The church is quiet. Silent, in fact, other than the hum of a few lights and other background building noises. The worshippers all departed. I don’t have to be to the next thing for a while, so I took a few minutes to just be. Before the decorations come down, I wanted to really take them in. I’m not sure I’ve ever done that. As I did, I found myself praying: for those who donated the ornaments or the funds to purchase them, for the folks who drag these trees out of storage year after year and carefully assemble the pieces, and for those who unpack the precious cargo and delicately handle and hang the various baubles. I remember beloved decorators from years gone by who have since died. I chuckled as I pondered how many opinions regarding the placement of ornaments were likely expressed throughout the years. All the fuss. All the beauty. All the hope.
Hope? Yes. Hope for the church: this congregation and all churches. You see, I discovered a set of Chrismons several years ago, a lovingly preserved reminder of Christmases past. At some point in history, a decision was made to replace the Chrismons with something different. Something new. And the church moved forward. I have no idea if there were debates, discussions, or general cantankerousness around the issue of the ornaments. I don’t need to know that. I only need the reminder that change happens, often one little decision at a time, and that’s perfectly okay.
I examined a number of the ornaments. The peace ornaments captivated me as my heart longs for peace, within and without. Peace in our hearts. Peace in our homes. Peace in our world. I’m so grateful that I spent this time by these trees today, blessed by a glimpse of the Light of the a World. May peace prevail.