In the Still of Christmas Morn

Here I am…

It’s early Christmas morning. I’m sipping my coffee and checking emails.

Last night was a blast. The early “family service” was wonderful. One of the younger ones broke away from her family when the children’s choir was singing, toddled her way up to the platform, climbed up and stood with the kids singing. Soon to be followed by a still younger child. I think if it weren’t so near the end of the song we would soon have had all the kids joining in. Woulda been great.

About two hundred fifty adults and children.

The “Eleven o’clock at Nine” (The adult choir explained quite simply I could have an eleven o’clock service or I could have a choir) was perhaps the most magnificent service I’ve ever been a part of. A delicate blending of the tradition itself, featuring an only lightly tampered with rendering of Luke’s story together with more traditional Unitarian Universalist comments. “Every night a child is born is a holy night.” Totally true.

I’m mildly anxious about my homily delivered within the midst of the congregation without notes. On the way home my spouse said it could have been interpreted as a caution to the glib and intelligent and overly educated that they/we miss something when we over anyalize. Or, she said, it could have been heard as saying its good to be intelligent and highly educated…

Sigh… The dangers of not having a text…

Fortunately the music, oh my goodness, the music must have carried the day, or rather late evening.

Pushing hard on four hundred folk…

And now I’m here. Its an all adult household so no rushing about overly early to get the packages torn open.

That lovely coffee. And I hear a whisper from the kitchen saying make yourself another cuppa…

Later opening presents.

And I think I’ll make pancakes…

Lovely, lovely…