Dear Co-laborers with Christ,

Harold lived alone. His wife had died some ten years earlier, and now, at eighty-eight years of age, Harold struggled to maintain his small brick two-story home and keep his life together. Childless, and with few surviving relatives, he had grown accustomed to solitude. Bothered by arthritic knees, he rarely left his home. Neighbors would check in from time to time, but for the most part, it was just Harold.

At Christmas time, he did put up some meager decorations. When I visited to bring the sacrament to him, I saw a small artificial tree in the living room window and beneath it an old nativity set that had clearly suffered the attrition of time. There was a shepherd with a broken staff and two sheep, one Wise Man, a three-legged donkey, Mary, Joseph, and a manger. But no baby Jesus. The manger was empty. This year, the baby had gone missing.

"He wasn't in the box," Harold said, "or on the floor of the closet. I don't know where else to look."

It seemed sad to me, that empty manger. But the truth is, in our crowded lives and our tragic world, the Christ Child often seems to be among the missing, and many do not know where to look. The shepherds were told to look in a most unlikely place. The  savior, Christ the Lord, praised in the highest heaven, is to be found in a stable, in a food trough. It would be understandable if they had been somewhat skeptical. But they took an unlikely risk, went to an unlikely place, and there they found Jesus. Where might we find him in this crowded world, this busy season, with no angels apparent to guide us?

Well, Jesus himself told us where to look, if we believe him. "Where two or three are gathered in my name..." Certainly we find him in our acts of worship. He speaks to us in the preached word, in the familiar readings, in the music that is the language of praise. He is present when we gather at his table and share his supper. He interacts with us when we pray together with open hearts. But if this is where Jesus is to be found, many do not often look. Many spend little time with this encounter group - an hour a week (or a year?), if that. And many of those who do come do not expect a real encounter with Jesus. Surveys have shown that the large majority of mainstream churchgoers have no real anticipation of any kind of spiritual experience associated with worship. If we do find him here, he often takes us by surprise.

But once we do find him in this obvious place, we realize that he cannot be confined there. He is also found in unlikely and unexpected places, for the doors that are exits from the church are also entrances into the world. There, Jesus told us, we would encounter him in acts to mercy to "the least of these..." And so, at Christmas and every other time the Child of Bethlehem is present in emergency rooms, with medical personnel who work on Christmas Eve; in squad cars patrolling our streets and in prison lockups; in nursing homes and shelters where people are cared for; in the tears and fears of women in domestic violence shelters, and in the caring and compassion of the counselors and staff; in cardboard boxes on top of steam grates; in refugee camps; and with those who visit the lonely and bereaved. Having encountered him in our fellowship of worship, we recognize him in the paths of life.

Harold was on to something, though he didn't realize it at the time. The manger is empty. The tomb is empty. The Risen Lord who is the Child of Bethlehem is loose in the world. He seeks us and draws near as we look for him. After we finish our carols, blow out our candles, we find him in the hard realities of human need and loving service. This is where Jesus always is.

May the Child of Bethlehem, our crucified and risen Lord, bless you this holy season, and always.

Faithfully, your bishop,

+B. Penrose Hoover

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