Home for the Holidays

Wednesday, December 20, A.D. 2006

At this festive time of year, I can’t help but recall the many Christmases I have spent away from home. I am mindful of so many in our world who can merely dream of being “home” for the holidays. For the years I spent serving in Bosnia and Herzegovina, I vividly remember what Christmas was like far away from anything familiar. No Christmas cookies, no Bing Crosby singing “White Christmas”, and no stockings to hang. But I also remember the freedom from consumerism, the race to beat everyone else to all the sales, and the tendency to believe that Christmas is only about what happens to show up under your tree.

In war-torn Sarajevo, I remember that Christmas was about a tiny, vulnerable baby born to peasant, refugee parents with nowhere to care for their newborn. I remember that Christmas was about this little life bursting into the world with such force that the wisest of the wise walked miles and miles to behold this life for themselves. I remember that Christmas was about the Word becoming flesh so that all of us could experience deeply in our bones what it means for God to be fully present within and among us.

I remember celebrating Christmas around a meager table offering all that one family had: a shot of homemade pear brandy, their last lamb, “young cheese” made from the milk of their coveted cow, walnut cake and the obligatory Bosnian coffee (a cup of mud!). Gathered around the table, we sang songs of peace and praise, our voices blending in a cacophonous, yet pure, way as we exclaimed that Christ had come into the world. In the mid-90s in the former Yugoslavia, there was nothing that was needed more than the peace of Christ in a place ravaged by years of war.

I also remember the Muslim family courageous enough to return to this predominately Catholic (thus, Croatian) village, making a point to stop by our gathering to wish us a sincere “Sretan Bozic!” (Happy Christmas). They, too, were hoping and praying for peace. It reminded me not only of how connected we all are as human beings, simply yearning to live in peace, but also as closely related children of God. In typical Bosnian hospitable fashion, our Muslim neighbors were invited in, asked to join the Christmas celebration, and treated as part of the family.

This was Christmas: all our words, all our talk of wanting peace and harmony…and the Word became flesh…when our neighbors showed up at our door…so that all of us could experience in a very real, physical way that God was, indeed, among us, in many different forms and faces and faiths.

On September 1, 2005, mere days after Hurricane Katrina devastated the Gulf Coast, I began my new call to service with Week of Compassion. In barely one year and a half, I have learned of the myriad of ways that God uses our gifts of compassion, whatever they may be. I think about the ongoing horrific situation in the Sudan and how God has invited us there to be present for a people desperate for peace and the basic necessities of survival. I think about the Middle East and the Lebanese crisis in the past year and pray that peace will be sustained. Two years ago the tsunamis ruthlessly struck Indonesia and other parts of southern Asia, impacting places as far away as Somalia. My recent trip to India reminded me just how long it takes to recover from a disaster of that magnitude. And, of course, Katrina, so close to home, and Rita and Wilma following closely after her, have changed the landscape of America indelibly. Will those still displaced from the hurricanes have a place to call “home” this Christmas?

Through all the disasters, however, I have also witnessed Week of Compassion’s impact on those now healing and rebuilding after a storm or war or famine. I think of small farmers once lacking resources who are now able to sustain themselves and their families on their own. I think of women in India who have organized themselves into a coconut fiber cooperative, providing job security for themselves and their children. I think of thousands of seeds in Zimbabwe, gifts of our compassion that are now providing adequate food supply for a year for families there. While the images of development are not as visible or perhaps as easily recognizable, this is the ultimate goal – to accompany our sisters and brothers, learning from them and with them as we all struggle to equitably distribute our shared, God-given resources.

And so I rejoice this season for all of you. Because of your generosity and desire for everyone to be “home for the holidays”, we have been able to respond to many homeless in our midst. May your Christmas be a time of homecoming, peace, communion, joy, and of the miracle of the Word becoming flesh and dwelling within and among us.

Merry Christmas.
Amy Gopp

WOC 2007 Offering

Congregations that have an existing standing order for Week of Compassion materials will receive their order within the next month. Your standing order consists of any or each of the following items: offering envelopes, inserts, coin boxes, and posters.

The WOC office is continuing to maintain its own data base. We would appreciate it very much if those congregations with an existing standing order would check the number of items received against the number of items actually needed for the offering. If there is any change in numbers desired, please use the yellow card enclosed with the standing order to notify the WOC office. Or you may e-mail Elaine at ecleveland@woc.disciples.org or call 317.713.2442 with changes.

If you do not have a standing order but would like to initiate one, please use the card, e-mail or call to do so. If you need extra materials or you order on a year-to-year basis, please e-mail or call Elaine as soon as possible.

Map for Congregations

Click here for the latest additions to the WOC interactive map/poster. For a complimentary copy of the WOC map/poster for your congregation, contact Elaine Cleveland at 317.713.2442 or ecleveland@woc.disciples.org.