Outside the beautiful church where we sang one of our Christmas concerts lies a sad mound of raggedy sleeping bags and blankets that serves as a bedroom for those who have no home. There is a tendency to avert your eyes as you drive by, to use that “if-I-don’t-see-it, it-doesn’t-exist” mentality which is so easy for those of us who are blessed with more than we need. And yet, a chorale member saw to it that one of our recordings was included in a fund-raiser CD which to date has raised $20,000 to combat homelessness in this city. Not as much impact as being out there with coffee and sandwiches every night, but it was something. It was a step.
Today, for the first time, someone invited us to talk about an issue that has upset us greatly for almost a year. I don’t know that all of our questions were answered or that the situation was resolved, but it was a kind and gracious gesture coming from a person on whom I have hurled anger and blame. In the wall of frustration and bitterness that I’ve erected, a sincere apology and a willingness to listen cracked open a door.
In the midst of the terrible war of words coming from the mouths of our leaders, someone from a totally unexpected place stepped out and said, “This is wrong, and no political gain is worth this behavior. This is not who we are or how we treat each other, regardless of our beliefs.” What he wrote may not change anything, but it was a powerful and courageous symbol of hope.
On a much smaller scale, after a nightmare customer service experience with an online company, I reached a lovely woman who went to extraordinary lengths to resolve my problem. When we finally ended the call, we were on a first-name basis and I thought she was going to invite me to her mid-western home for hot-dish. I shuddered when I saw the line at Kohl’s spiraling back the aisle, but the smiling cashiers were working as quickly as they could, I had a nice chat with the gentleman in front of me, and no one held up the line trying to use counterfeit Kohl’s cash or outdated coupons.
I don’t know that any of us will ever see a star in the East or have enough oil to keep our lamps miraculously lit for eight days. But when a tiny star pierces the darkness in an unexpected place, it still sheds light, perhaps all the more brilliantly because it’s singular and catches us unaware. I think many of us feel blanketed by darkness for so many reasons—some terrible and life-changing, some because of the burdens we carry, and some simply because of the world we live in right now. If you’re lucky enough to glimpse one of those tiny stars, cherish its light, see what it illuminates, and maybe take the occasional poke at the darkness yourself.
Wishing everyone a season filled with love, celebration, and tiny stars.