A Spacious Christianity
A Spacious Christianity
Christmas Eve: Making Space for Love to Be Born, with Rev. Dr. Steven Koski.
ONLINE Dec 24th: Christmas Eve: Making Space for Love to Be Born, with Rev. Dr. Steven Koski.
Description:
Christmas Eve: Making Space for Love to Be Born, with Rev. Dr. Steven Koski. Series: Rediscovering Jesus A Spacious Christianity, First Presbyterian Church of Bend, Oregon. Scripture: Luke 2.
Wondering what Christmas is really all about? Join us Christmas Eve online or in-person, as we explore how even a small bit of openness can make room for unexpected love and hope. You don’t need to have it all figured out; just come curious and see what this story might awaken in you.
At First Presbyterian, you will meet people at many different places theologically and spiritually. And we love it that way. We want to be a place where our diversity brings us together and where conversation takes us all deeper in our understanding of God.
We call this kind of faith “Spacious Christianity.” We don’t ask anyone to sign creeds or statements of belief. The life of faith is about a way of being in the world and a faith that shows itself in love.
Thank you for your support of the mission of the First Presbyterian Church of Bend. Visit https://bendfp.org/giving/ for more information.
Keywords:
Christmas Eve, love, gratitude, grief, hope, Wally, Christmas pageant, improvisation, Maya, nurse, warm conversation, compassion, space, God, miracle., presbyterian, church, online worship, bend, oregon
Featuring:
Rev. Dr. Steven Koski, Rev. Sharon Edwards, Becca Ellis, Brave of Heart, Guests
by us. They left running and found
Sharon Edwards:Merry Christmas. Welcome to the Christmas Eve service at First Presbyterian Church. My name is Sharon, and I'm one of the pastors here. We are so grateful that you have joined us so that we can share in the peace, the joy and the hope of Christmas together, we practice a spacious Christianity. At First Presbyterian you will meet people at many different places on their spiritual walk. We love it that way. We believe that diversity is a strength. Questions and doubts are gifts that lead us to deeper conversations. Everyone's story is sacred. There's a place at the table and around the tree for everyone, as we learn together what it means to live the spacious and radical love of Jesus so that all might flourish in this world. So welcome. Christmas is not just a story of what happened once, long ago. It is the story of what keeps happening. Love keeps showing up. Light keeps breaking in, God keeps choosing to be with us. So make some room in your heart and in your lives so That love might find a Home in You This Christmas.
Unknown:Lord, We We In we light the Christ candle to celebrate Jesus' birthday. May we make room in our hearts for the love that was born that first Christmas to be born again in our hearts this Christmas. Mary and Joseph and the baby lying in the manger. Seeing was believing. They told everyone they met what the angels had said about this child. All who heard the shepherds were amazed. Mary kept all these things to herself, holding them dear deep within herself, the shepherds were turned glorifying and praising God for everything they had heard and seen. It turned out exactly the way they had been told
Steven:on Christmas Eve, when the world sits between wonder and weariness we gather to remember a story so small it could have been missed, a story of God slipping quietly into the world through the narrow doorway of an unlikely and ordinary life. Now some of you might find yourself this Christmas with hearts full of gratitude and joy. I'm guessing many of you find your hearts full in a different way, full of questions, full of grief and sadness, full of exhaustion, full of the kind of heaviness that makes it hard to imagine you have room for anything more, but Christmas whispers the truth God doesn't require a perfect space, only an open one, Even if it's open just a sliver the first Christmas came to an overcrowded, anxious, violent, weary world, much like today's world, and yet love, love still found the smallest corner where hope could take its first breath. You know that reminds me of my absolute favorite story to tell at Christmas. It's the story of Wallace pearling and the Christmas pageant that took an unexpected turn. Now Wally was nine years old, and while he desperately, he desperately wanted the role of the innkeeper in the children's Christmas pageant, now he thought he could do a great job of scowling and telling Mary and Joseph there was no room in the inn with just the right amount of firmness. So he rehearsed the perfect sky. All in the mirror. He tried to get the tone just right, turning Mary and Joseph away. So it was the night of the pageant. Wally was was so excited. He was wearing his costume. He looked around at at all the decorations and the families gathering in the pews, and his eyes were were wide with childlike wonder. The pageant director told Wally to get in place behind the inn door and be ready, and Mary and Joseph made their way down the center aisle of the church. Joseph knocked on the inn door now Wally. Wally was ready. He swung the door open. Now he looked straight ahead above their head so so he wouldn't be distracted, and he bellowed his lines, just as he'd rehearsed. There's no room in the inn now, Joseph said, Please, please, my wife, Mary, is about to give birth. Surely there's a corner we could stay. Now at this point, Wally was just supposed to slam the indoor shut, but Wally looked down at Joseph for the first time, then he looked into Mary's eyes that looked so tired and worried, Joseph turned and With his arm around Mary, they began to walk away. Now again, Wally was just he was supposed to slam the indoor shut. But there was a pause, a long pause. The pageant director whispered from the wings Wally. Shut the door. Wally didn't hear a thing. He was lost in the moment. Tears rolling down his cheeks as he watched Mary and Joseph walk away, and this, this is when the pageant took a sharp, unexpected turn. Wally shouted, Joseph, Joseph, wait, bring Mary back. And Wally's face brightened, and his eyes grew large and joyful, and Wally said, she can have my room. Love. Love took over Wally's heart, and he abandoned his script that he had memorized, and with great joy, he said, she can have my room that Crispus pageant had a surprise ending. You know, love does that when we make even, even a little space for love to take over, old scripts are abandoned. New stories are told. Surprise endings are possible. That's what Christmas Eve is about, making space, even a sliver of space, in our hearts, to be overcome with the love of God revealed in the child in a manger, so that like Wally, we might go off script, and that we might love with the with the kind of love where new stories are told, surprise endings are possible now. Wally's improvisation wasn't planned. It certainly wasn't polished. It was messy, sincere, impulsive love, this weary and aching world of ours is waiting for us to go off the tired old scripts, waiting for us to love with the kind of love where new stories are possible. A friend of mine named Maya shared a story that happened to her last week. She was driving home from her shift working as a nurse at the hospital. She she was exhausted, as so many of us are, and she was just ready to collapse into the couch at the end of her shift, at the end of the day, but at a stoplight, she. She noticed an older man standing on the corner with a cardboard sign. Now that the cardboard sign didn't list needs or complaints, the cardboard sign simply said, I'd love a warm conversation for the light turned. Traffic moved on, and Maya started to continue her path towards home, but something tugged at her heart. She could have just kept going. She she could have said she didn't have the energy or the time or or the space. But instead, she took the next left. She went through the drive through at Starbucks, bought two hot chocolates, parked and walked back towards the man. She handed one of the man and said, I Maya, what's your name? His name was Robert. He told her he he wasn't lonely every day, just on holidays, especially this holiday, when the world just seem to speed up and pass him by. Maya said she too felt especially lonely during the holidays. They talked for about 20 minutes about his dog, her parents, the weather and how strange and beautiful people can be nothing dramatic happened. There was no miracle ending, just two people making space for one another on a cold corner when they parted ways, Robert said, Thanks for seeing me. Maya said to me later, she said, I didn't give him much, but I gave him a little space in my heart, and he gave me something too. I felt hopeful and human again. Maya's unexpected detour, you know, leaving the script of what she had planned that evening. It didn't fix the world, but it created a little space for love to be born, and sometimes that's the miracle. So on this Christmas Eve, I ask you, gently, where might you make space for love to be born? Maybe it looks like pausing long enough just simply to breathe. Maybe making space means softening towards someone you've kept at a distance. Maybe it means loosening your grip on a fear or regret that has filled too much of your inner room. Maybe it means allowing yourself to be seen, to receive help, to trust that God can work even in the parts of your life that feel messy or overcrowded or maybe like Wally and Maya, maybe it means simply noticing someone who needs compassion and choosing to open a door rather than close one, Mary said yes to God without knowing The full plan, she simply created space and everything changed. Christmas is not just what happened once, long ago, it's what keeps happening. Love keeps showing up. Light keeps breaking in. God keeps choosing to be with us. So on this Christmas Eve, you don't have to fix your life, you don't have to feel ready, you don't have to make sense of everything you're carrying. All that is asked is this, leave the door unlocked, clear a small corner, make room, even just to sliver for love to be born again, because the love of Christmas does not arrive with force or fanfare. Love comes quietly. Love comes tenderly. Love Comes looking, not for perfection, but for permission for space, and when we make space, however small it feels, love always finds a way to enter, and the story always becomes more than we imagined. May it be so for you this Christmas, may love find a home in you, and may others find a home in your love.
Sharon Edwards:Amen, let us pray. When the world was dark and the city was quiet, you showed up right beside us and no one knew, only the few who dared to believe that God might do something new. Will you do the same this Christmas, God, will you come into the darkness of tonight's world? Not the friendly darkness as when sleep releases us from tiredness, But the fearful darkness in which people have stopped believing that war will end or that food will come, or that a government will change, or that Christians care. Will you come into that darkness to do something different, to save your people from death and despair? Will you come into the quietness of this community? Not the friendly quietness as when lovers hold hands, But the fearful silence when the phone has not rung and the text remains unanswered, the friendly voice no longer speaks the doctor's face says it all, will you come into that darkness and do something new, not to distract us, but to embrace your people? And will you come into the fearful corners and the quiet places of our lives. We ask this not because we are guilt ridden or want to be, but because the fullness of our lives, long for depends on us being as open and vulnerable to you as you were to us when you came wearing no more than diapers and trusting human hands to hold their maker. Will you come into our lives if we open them to you and do something different, something new. When the world was dark and the city was quiet, you came and you lived beside us. Do the same this Christmas God, do the same. Amen.
Steven:The light shines in the darkness, and no amount of darkness can extinguish that light. A little bit of light can dispel a whole lot of darkness. May the light of God's love revealed in the birth of Jesus burn bright within you. May you be inspired to share that light with others, bringing as much love and goodness into this world as you can in this moment, as we sing Silent Night, let's make room in our hearts, let love take over, so that we might give to one another and to the world, the gift that really matters, the gift of our hearts, the gift of our love. As we celebrate the birthday of Jesus this Christmas, Jesus actually gives us his own wish list for gifts. Jesus said, Whatever we do for the least of these our brothers and sisters, we do for him when we offer gifts to those in need, it is offering those very gifts to Jesus, food for the hungry, care for the sick, drink for those who are thirsty, hospitality for strangers, compassion for those imprisoned in body or mind. First, Presbyterian Church of Bend exists to serve those in need, bringing love and compassion, hope and healing where it's needed the most this Christmas, so many are struggling. I ask you to please give generously if you're able, so that we can be generous in love. You can make a gift online@bandfp.org you can use the QR code on the screen, or you can mail a check to the church. Through your generous gifts, we will let those in need know that they are not alone, that God is with them, that they are loved. Thank you for joining us for this Christmas Eve service. We hope you enjoyed it, and we Hope you'll join us again. Merry Christmas. You