Message from the Pastor, January 2026
The Work of Christmas (Howard Thurman, 1948)
When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart.
Dear friends,
As we cross over into 2026, Howard Thurman’s amazing poem captures so much that is in my heart this year, and maybe in yours, too. It speaks to me now more than ever after the hard year we have known here in our country.
2025 was filled with so much challenge, with our nation’s leaders pulling back the rights and dignity of LGBTQIA neighbors and friends, especially transgender siblings; arresting and deporting immigrant and refugee neighbors and friends in unprecedented numbers; abolishing programs to work against systemic racism in our institutions and businesses; rolling back climate justice programs and science; rescinding public benefits from struggling families among us, working to rollback women’s freedom over their own bodies and reproductive choices.
Our year ended last month with more acts of hate among us with mass shootings at Brown University and at a Chanukah celebration in Sydney, Australia. I am so grieved at the wars still destroying and killing in Gaza and Ukraine. We have much work to do, because in the name of the Savior whose birth we celebrate, I cannot give up his call to justice, healing, compassion, mercy and love.
My own New Year’s resolutions include continuing to lift up the values of our faith no matter how much hate and division surround us. The words of Howard Thurman still call to me to do what I know is right . . . and I bid you to do it with me. No matter how hard the storms of division and oppression may rage, let us continue to hold aloft the Christmas light of the Christ Child, Emmanuel, God-with-Us. He came to bring the Holy One near in our own flesh and blood, weeping with our tears, laughing with our joy, calling us in freedom to join him where we are the most broken, saving us with arms wide open again and again and again. Let us do that for each other and our neighbors, not just for some of us, but all of us.
In fervent love and hope,
Rev. Marisa