Despite Jacob's best efforts and attempts to reassure his parish that he has so much more than he ever dreamed of, they ambushed him anyway this weekend. He was joyfully hoarse from spreading his messages as we delivered cards (and pies!) yesterday.
He has been spending weeks encouraging the congregation to reach out, support the food banks, donate warm things, give to local charities that could look after people without a place to lay their heads and in general to step outside of themselves and abandon the materialistic temptations of a commercialized season, instead helping others and showing the spirit from within. This time of year it's especially important. It's so cold out there you would freeze in moments. And the holidays? They're just difficult as it is. People need to be reminded that while they are celebrating, others are suffering. Dark times, my friends.
Of course it's preachy.
He is a preacher.
He puts his money where his mouth is, too. So do I. You would be surprised how many times I cried last week over things that had nothing to do with my life. How many times I was smacked in the face with something bigger and more difficult that anything I have ever had to face personally. These are financial pledges and personal obligations that I have grown to covet, for they keep my perspective fresh and my selfishness in check. In years past I have always gone down for a few hours and packed boxes or helped cook or serve somewhere heartbreakingly full of people but this year it's become an urgent, all-encompassing endeavor. A brand new full-time job for me, a welcome addition by Jacob's side, though I am sick and not quite as tireless as he is.
It's been a welcome distraction from my usual life and all the other stuff we're going through.
And still I watch as Jacob comes home with presents for the children from members of the church, 'little somethings' for us as a family, generous outpourings of acknowledgment for Jacob who has become an extended member of the family to everyone he's ever met, and the kids and I an unexpected completion, a compliment to his life, in their eyes.
He remarked this morning that his record of 54 invitations to Christmas dinner received last year as a single man (read: long-distance estranged husband to his ex-wife) will not be broken because this year he received exactly one invitation, dinner at his own home, with his wife and children and that it was the best invitation a man could have and that he hoped everyone had a home wrapped in love and surrounded by faith and touched with the true spirit of the holiday season.
I came home with a stack of cards in my hand two inches thick. When Jacob arrived later on, the backseat of the car was covered with gifts. He's thrilled and yet chagrined. This money and effort could be better spent.
It's difficult. Everyone knows that this is his last Christmas with the church. They want him to know he is unforgettable and will be missed. They have few other ways to profess their love for him, their appreciation for the work he has done, the sacrifices he has made, the hours he has spent. They understand why he's leaving and that he's not really leaving.
And we got a very special completely unexpected gift this year from one of Jacob's community minister friends, who requested to perform the Christmas Eve service, which was printed in the bulletin as a surprise after Jacob signed off on inclusions. So he'll be home, here with us, for the first time, for our first Christmas as a family.
Who needs presents when you have this?
In gracious acceptance of the gifts we received this morning we're going to attempt to put a value on all of it and donate that same amount in addition to what we do already. We can't come up with any other way to make this generosity right.
We are blessed. I'll end this with a small part of Jacob's closing prayer. (He rambles spectacularly, so I put in the good parts remembered in spite of the Dayquil haze-forgive me if some of what I wrote is poorly strung together today.)
Dear God,
Bless our family and all its members and friends. Bind us together in your love and in your light. Give us kindness and forethought to help each other in difficult times and support and knowledge in everything we do...May peace enter into our hearts and remain with us...May we rejoice in the blessings you have given us and thank you for this one day that we have shared together and for all the days that remain.
Amen.
