Gracefully Broken

“Let your light shine brightly, that they may see your good deeds and glorify God." ~ Matthew 5:16

Allow me to introduce myself. In the grand scheme of things, I’m pretty insignificant; just a tube that contains a chemical reaction. Small and unassuming, all it takes is a few snaps and a quick shake to release what’s inside.

Scientists have always been fascinated by the light produced by fireflies and other creatures. My history dates back about 50 years when several US patents for glow stick devices were first issued.

One of the first patents for glowing hand-held devices was awarded to the US Navy. We quickly became an essential piece of military equipment with a vast array of uses, including emergency, target, and landing zone markers. Concertgoers embraced us shortly thereafter at a Grateful Dead concert in New Haven, CT.

Inside my plastic casing is a floating glass tube containing hydrogen peroxide surrounded by fluorescent dye. When you snap me, the internal glass tube breaks which allows the chemicals to mix. It’s this mixing that causes the glow through chemiluminescence. And for a short time, a beautiful glow is released.

It’s not so fun to think about how many times we’ve been snapped and shaken to release the light inside of us. But don’t pity my “brokenness; it’s the price paid for light to shine through.

If you’re human, you’ve experienced some form of “brokenness” in your past too. 

Perhaps you have grieved from a broken heart, complicated situations, loss of health, or relationships. Whether it’s from choices we have made or circumstances beyond our control, sometimes we find ourselves so profoundly broken that we don’t know how things could ever be restored. It feels permanent. And for some it is.

In those moments of desperation, God can use the ugliness of our pain and weakness for His glory and our good. And like the little glow stick, out of a fractured heart, His Light shines brightly.

Brokenness makes room for deeper understanding, empathy, and repentance. Without climbing the mountains, the views at the top wouldn’t mean as much. By experiencing certain trials in our lives, we gain deeper empathy for those around us. It is during those hard times that we learn to lean on God for comfort and healing.

Jesus died and took our brokenness upon Himself. Through Jesus’ death and resurrection… we became unbroken. And now, we can be a glow stick for others to see the “Light”!

Let’s go shine this Light as glow sticks that never fade, loving and serving all our neighbors, as much as we serve ourselves. Embrace, and look out for, those breaking moments, know your purpose as you shine a light for others, and have fun along the way. Shine on, shine on!

Lord Almighty, You hear our prayers in sorrow too deep for words. Your love gives me comfort - Your Word, hope. Take my brokenness and use it for Your purpose, knowing that Your Light will shine brilliantly and make me whole. Amen

"Away in a Manger"

 “Mary gave birth to Jesus, wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger." ~ Luke 2:7

The two met monthly for coffee to discuss issues of importance. They differed in educational and political backgrounds – but their talks were never argumentative and always respectful.

Each was elevated by the other's presence; moments to savor the peace that comes from within the arms of friendship. Greeting each other warmly, they ordered coffee and made small talk until steaming mugs arrived. They settled comfortably in that way that good company beckons.

Today’s topic – “Where was Jesus born?”

It seemed one steeped in Christian tradition and known so well. Mary and Joseph traveled to Bethlehem and were turned away from the village innkeeper. Contemporary nativity sets depict them taking refuge in a stable, where baby Jesus was born and laid in a manger.

“I’m sorry to spoil your Christmas preparations,” David began. “But Jesus wasn’t born in a stable. The New Testament barely hints that this might’ve been the case.”

“Early church tradition says the site of the nativity was actually a cave near Bethlehem. The earliest testimony came from St. Justin Martyr, who wrote around 150 A.D. that the child was born in a cave near the village.” David added, “This was common knowledge in the third century, even among non-Christians.”

Joshua listened patiently while his friend offered sound reasoning before offering his own opinion. “The Biblical story of Jesus’ birth is found mostly in Luke’s gospel. He neither quotes nor mentions an inn, a cave, or even a barn, but rather a house!”

Joshua stated, “The Greek word for Inn, ‘kataluma,’ was a reception room in a private residence. The same term is used to describe the “upper room” where Jesus and his disciples ate their Last Supper. In that context,” he continued, “the kataluma was likely a guest room in the house of the family where Joseph and Mary were staying.”

“Further,” he said, “the actual design of Palestinian homes would’ve been a single-room house, with a lower compartment for animals. Either a room at the back or space on the roof was for visitors. Jesus wouldn’t have been born in a detached stable but on the lower floor of a peasant house where the animals slept.”

They talked on but as usual, finally reached common ground. They agreed that Jesus had been laid in an animal feeding trough after His birth. They also concurred that there was nothing wrong with our popular imaginings of events in the life of Jesus, as long as they help us reflect on the essence of these events: that a simple manger became God’s throne.

Let’s not overlook its significance because we’re preoccupied with details God didn’t believe were important enough to preserve.

Lord, we celebrate the Christmas story that unfolded in a manger in the little town of Bethlehem. We humbly kneel before Your throne of grace when we understand that the infant child was born so that He could die for our sins. Amen

"Only the Lonely"

 “He is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." ~ Psalms 34:18

We buried both of my parents just days before Christmas, eleven years apart. No one holiday was more difficult to endure than those first Christmases without each of them. Everyone was buying gifts, decorating their homes, baking family recipes, and enjoying the holiday spirit. I remained silently present in the shadows at Christmas.

It reminded me of another who played a role behind the Christmas scene.

Yet what an important role he played in the early life of Jesus. He supported and wed Mary, even though the child wasn’t his. He remained a calm presence at the manger, and later led the family to sanctuary in Egypt. He mentored Jesus during those formative years, teaching Him carpentry skills and a love for the Law.

Joseph reminds us to remember the forgotten people at Christmas. The widow, with every greeting card she opens, who feels the sadness of facing the holiday without her husband. The soldier on deployment thousands of miles from home who longs for her familiar Christmas festivities. The first responders working holiday shifts who feel more stress than any other time of year.

This season is for everyone, not just those who can celebrate with family and friends. The Christ of Christmas was not only a baby surrounded by awestruck shepherds and wise men.

He champions the lonely… because he knows their pain.

His young mother was probably more than a little scared amid unfamiliar surroundings. The birth announcement was not a hospital photo mailed first-class to neighbors and family.

Instead, angels appear to shepherds on a hillside, men who were probably lonely and bored until they heard the news.

To read the Christmas story tenderly is to appreciate God orchestrating the events of Christ’s birth to include the lonely; making it clear that He understood their pain. A Samaritan woman at a well, an outcast tax collector, a woman with a painful illness - Jesus drew near to them, sometimes singling them out for special attention or favor.

In a world where presents at Christmas hold such a dominant place, the best gift we can give is our presence for forgotten people. So as Χρῑστός, or Christos (Greek) approaches, please remember the lonely in your prayers.

Take a moment to think about different people in your life. Start with your family and work outward. Think about co-workers and neighbors. Think about people who might have a recent life event that might have left them feeling isolated.

Cry out to God for those whose holidays are mournful reminders of loss or lack in their lives. Pray for those who are far from home over the holidays. And pray for joy in our hearts, hope in our God, love to forgive, and peace on the earth.

Loving God, in this Holy season, we come to You who reveres the brokenhearted and ask You to shower Your favor on all of the above, in the name of Jesus, Your beloved and only-begotten Son. Amen

Candy Cane Legends

 “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean." ~ Psalms 51:7

According to the National Confectioners Association, nearly 2 billion candy canes are produced each year, with 90 percent of the red and white striped treats sold between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Their evolution is steeped in charming folklore.

One legend has it that in 1670, the German choirmaster handed out sugar sticks to his fidgety young singers to quiet them during the lengthy nativity services. He bent the treats to represent a shepherd’s staff, appeasing those who complained that sweets were not appropriate in a church.

European Christians also began using Christmas trees as part of their Yuletide celebrations about that time. They were often decorated with cookies and candies.

The first documented use of the confection as Christmas décor dates back to 1847 when a German/Swedish immigrant, decorated a small blue spruce tree with “J” shaped, solid white candy treats. It soon became a tradition that would captivate holiday devotees.

The first red-and-white-striped candy canes appeared some 50 years later when peppermint, known for its stomach-soothing properties, found its way into the sugary concoction. Local apothecaries, often doubling as candy makers, utilized peppermint to mask the taste of unpleasant medicines.

Early on, the cane’s popularity was limited as it tended to break when candy-makers added the crook. Bob McCormick, a candy-maker in the 1920s, reportedly solved that problem with help from a Catholic priest who invented a machine that that made turning straight candy sticks into curved ones automatic! It not only streamlined production and reduced waste but also paved the way for millions of candy canes to sweeten the holiday season.

Today, kneaders to twisters, produce the iconic stripes and shapes that define iconic candy. Being portable, relatively neat (compared to chocolate), affordable, and tasty all add to its popularity.

There are many other legends and religious beliefs surrounding the humble candy cane. Many of them depict the candy cane as a secret symbol for Christianity during a time when Christians were living under more oppressive circumstances.

It’s been argued that the cane was shaped like a "J" for "Jesus" and that the red-and-white stripes represented Christ's blood and purity. As for the candy cane's peppermint flavor, it represented the use of hyssop, an herb referred to in the Old Testament for its flavoring and medicinal uses.

However, no historical evidence exists to support these claims.

Personally, I love them for their refreshing, cool taste. Above all our ornaments, the candy cane brings a sweetness that spreads into our holiday atmosphere. And although the candy cane may be a legend, the truth it can symbolize is not!  Every Christmas we should be reminded of the great love God has for each one of us!

Lord, may the same thrill and anticipation that filled Mary, draw us close to You. May our spirits cry out, “Alleluia,” with the good news of great joy to humble awe-struck shepherds that night so long ago. Amen

The Gentle Judge

 “When you help the poor, you’re lending to God and He will repay you." ~ Proverbs 19:17

"Order in the court!" Judge Caprisio rapped his gavel twice and instructed the bailiff to call the next case. A disheveled young woman named Dasani stepped to the podium. She isn’t too different from many other defendants that the stately judge has overseen. She has technically violated the law, but not for reasons under her control.

Dasani fought the urge to cry while telling the judge about her life and how she ended up in this mess. She escaped an abusive, alcoholic father and has not been in school since the fifth grade. Autism and relationship problems pushed her into a homeless existence on Brooklyn’s streets. She doesn’t exaggerate her situation, not even a little bit.

She’s around 27 years old and has been living in her car up until recently. She’s before the judge because a Traffic Control officer “booted” her car. Now it’s immobile. Not having transportation is plenty bad enough on its own, but even worse when it doubles as the only roof over her head.

Dasani added that she just got a job cleaning hotel rooms and was hoping to ‘work out some sort of payment plan’ to at least keep her car, one of the last pieces of her life.

Known for his kind and caring behavior, Judge Caprisio listens patiently to the poor woman though he’s heard stories like hers hundreds of times in his 37 years on the bench.

His voice is gentle as he gives her a sentence of $400. The mandatory boot fee is $100 plus $300 for the ticket and court fees. “How much can you pay now?” he asks softly.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Dasani claims to have only $5 to her name, he couldn’t in good conscience take the last of her meager funds.

Then the Judge rendered a judgment that would leave her speechless. He’ll pay off the $350 for her with money from the Filomena fund, a charitable fund named after Judge Caprisio’s late mother, from whom he probably inherited his compassion. The fund supports people unable to pay for traffic violations from small donations by people around the world.

Judge Caprisio gave her a month to pay the remaining $50. Should the circumstances decide that she still couldn’t pay it by then, he’ll probably pay that off too. But that seldom happens.

Almost unable to speak, she said, “Thank you so much your honor, thank you.” Tears of sadness turned to smiles of gratitude.

But there was one more act cooking in this courtroom drama. As Dasani turned to leave, a stranger in the courtroom approached the bench with an offer. “I play guitar in restaurants for free food,” he said, offering her the free meal he’d get that night.

Kindness breeds kindness – pass it on!

"Lord, let me never forget all that you do for me on a daily basis. Lead me to live my life as a testament to Your many incredible blessings, that Your love may be known and experienced by all those I serve. Amen

Sharing Without Speaking

 “Don’t look back, lengthen your stride, and press toward the goal." ~ Philippians 3:13-14

A dear family friend passed from this world into glory a month ago. You never truly understand someone’s impact until they’ve departed from this life. Her story taught me the beauty and value of simplicity.

Dawn was a gentle spirit. She never really grew sophisticated in her understanding of the world, yet her smile was contagious. You might say that she was mildly cognitively impaired – or maybe in a way, she was just lucky.

Neighbors embraced her. Church members helped with financial advice, nutritional support, and minor home repairs.

Dawn’s gift to a community that adored her was her simplicity; the infinite enjoyment she took in the everyday blessings that crossed her path. She laughed at snowflakes, was delighted when a dandelion puff exploded in the wind, and became excited when a salmon leaped from the river sending a spray of water into the air like pearls against the sky.

Her house was simple. Clean. Comfortable. All were welcome in a home that conveyed warmth, peace, and happiness. She brought humble beauty into every aspect of life.

She was quiet, Dawn seemed to know that there was more to be heard in silence; that sharing love could be done without speaking. She invested in the lives of others just by sharing her genuine satisfaction with every moment of her life, strangely immune from anxiety, depression, and callousness.

Her homemade cookies and pies were delicious. Most of all, we loved Dawn because she touched many lives. She never wanted to be the leader, but rather the servant of all. It was pure humbleness to which the mighty should aspire.

This woman was a glorious example of contentment, pure comfort with who she was, oblivious to the need for more, but realizing the beauty of how much she already had. Regardless of her own circumstances, she could bring light, hope, and joy to those around her through her example of authenticity, kindness, and inner peace.

Life is too precious to rush through in the far-left lane, too short to overlook the beauty of creation that we’re called to care for. To love and touch one life at a time, was Jesus’ example on earth. He welcomed all to enjoy the bounty that God blessed us with.

Complexity is often mistaken for intelligence. Many of us think we attract friends by being ‘impressive’, but the reality is that deep friendship is usually accelerated through vulnerability.

So, we often turn to community, which is exactly what God made us for. We’ve all experienced what it’s like to be vulnerable and, to some degree, an ‘outcast’ in society, conditions which grow our compassion for others and develop an increased sense of God’s justice for all.

Almighty Father, let me live with awe and humility, present in each moment and grateful for the gifts of life that You fill to my brim - so much that my joy will overflow and make better the lives of all around me. Amen

Answer to a Prayer

 “I am the Light of the world; those who follow Me will have light and life." ~ John 8:12

The heavy bronze doors of St. Patrick’s Cathedral were locked tightly. No crowds gathered amid the secular bustle of Rockefeller Center; its neo-gothic archways and spires were only dimly lit by the city streetlights. She’d arrived too late.

It was nearly 11 p.m., the night before Thanksgiving, and the sprawling cathedral was closed.  I should have come sooner, she thought, swiping away a single tear.  She’d blown the chance to light a candle in honor of her Mom.

Before her passing two weeks earlier, lighting a candle at St. Patrick’s had been her Mom, Elaine’s sacred tradition. She traveled every week from her home in the Bronx, sometimes even twice a week if there was a holiday.

No matter the weather or her declining health – faithfully, she’d make her pilgrimage to the back corner of the church and light a little white candle in one of the votive glasses. Then she’d pray for every person on her “list”- from her 5 kids to the homeless path she had crossed that day.

The candle’s glow prolonged her prayer and desire to remain in God’s presence after she left the sanctuary.

Facing the first holiday without her, Sandra had vowed to continue her tradition. St. Patrick’s was only a few blocks from her midtown office. But every time she got up from her desk, something came up. New clients. Last-minute meetings. Holiday deadlines. Soon it was too late.

So much for keeping traditions! Sandra sprinted to Penn Station and slipped aboard the last train to Long Island just before the sliding doors closed, reaching her stop just after midnight.

Shivering from the November chill, Sandra ducked into one of the station’s four phone booths to call home. As he removed the receiver, a crisp paper bag sitting upright on the shelf caught her attention. Curiously, she peeked inside. Its contents sent a shiver as she felt her Mom’s presence.

Sandra’s husband pulled up a few minutes later, finding his wife smiling and clutching the brown paper sack. “What’s in the bag?” he asked.

“A single white candle in a gold votive glass - waiting for a match and a prayer,” Sandra replied.  “It’s time I own it, make no apologies, and deliver on the promise I made to Mom.”

She now likes doing it and found that as her family grew, so did her love for candle lighting. When the mood is relaxed, she sometimes lights candles at home too, closing her eyes and saying special prayers for people on her own “list.” When she opens them, she sees her children gathered around, copying her. It’s such a special moment, she has to fight back the tears.

Lord, may this candle be a light for You to enlighten me in my difficulties and decisions.  May its fire burn away all my pride, selfishness, and impurity. Through my petitions, I place in Your care those I’ve come to pray for. Amen