Christmas Letter from the Rector

Dear people of Trinity,

This news may not sound remarkable in any way to you, but there it is. This year, for the first time in nine, or maybe 10 years, I put up a Christmas tree in my house. I’m not anti-holiday decor by any means, but I think my church-musician friend Jessica was right when she made this observation: not decorating in a timely manner can feel like an occupational hazard for many of us who work in parishes. Parishes can be so chock-full of Advent and Christmas services and concerts and other holiday activities during December, sometimes we church workers just can’t manage to do one thing more.

But this year, I found myself really hungry for light. For the glimpses and glimmers of sparkling brightness peeking out from amongst the dark green branches of a Christmas tree. So I pushed myself to decorate a bit. Right now, lights are the only things adorning my tree, except for the few ornaments I bought as candidates for our Ornament Exchange. And that’s okay. When I come home after sunset, I make a beeline for the tree, and switch on the lights. It gives me everything I need.

I think of light as hope. Not the kind of hollow, fake hope which promises that everything will work out just as you’d like. But hope as God’s presence in all, like light, fills the spaces in a darkened room.

Encouraged by this new vision, this season I’ve been on the lookout for moments of hopeful light wherever I can. The cry of a tiny baby as we began the Eucharistic Prayer last Sunday. The dolphins which surfaced so close to shore, just after Rachyl Pines, Will Barring, and I shared communion on Leadbetter beach on the morning of their wedding.

And the biggest, most hopeful light of all. . . God’s decision to come be with us in the person of Jesus, to share our humanity.

We humans certainly have our challenges. We let our fears beget violence; we are insecure, and so we turn to ego; we give in to scarcity, and make grabs for power. But there are also other things we can be. Funny and generous; tender and fiercely protective of the vulnerable; imaginative and courageous; persistent and forgiving. Glimpses of bright, loving humanity peeking out from amongst our prickly branches.

John’s gospel describes the coming into the world of Jesus as God’s Word made life. And that life was the light for all people—a light in the darkness which cannot be overcome. Let us welcome him by letting our hope-filled light shine. Turn on the tree.

The Rev. Elizabeth Molitors
Rector, Trinity Episcopal Church
emolitors@trinitysb.org