12/19/2021
Sending God's love and light to you all during this challenging time.
In an abundance of caution, the Church will not be having a Christmas Eve Service this year in light of the increase of Covid-19 in our area. There will be no worship service for either Friday December 24th or Sunday December 26th.
Please see the message below from Pastor Penny Rich Smith and may these words comfort and guide us during the Christmas holiday.
CHRISTMAS EVE MESSAGE
“GOD’S LOVE IS BORN”
North Bennington Congregational Church
Rev. Penny Rich Smith
Once again, we listen to the familiar Christmas Story about Mary and Joseph’s long, weary trek from Nazareth to Bethlehem, and we sing our way to the nativity with the angels and shepherds and magi and all the creatures who gather round, and it is ever new and transforming because we experience the energy of a miraculous event that brings new life into all.
At Christmas, we lift our eyes heavenward to the Star, and we take an extra moment to gaze at its light and allow God to speak to us as we peer into the manger. And we carry with us hopes and dreams and prayers for God’s light to shine in the darkness and bring love and peace into hearts and homes, right here and throughout the world.
On that holy night long ago, everything just stopped for an incredible moment, and a hush fell over the world, like a silent blanket of snow. Angels winged their way softly in and out of the earth with the messages of God – they sang, “Fear not…for we bring you glad tidings of great joy.” Shepherds stopped what they were doing and followed a Star – and they said, “Let’s go and see.” And wandering wise men saddled up their camels and ventured forth into the night bearing gifts for a child – giving Jesus their hope and they said, “We’re not stopping until we find him.” The time had come for kneeling.
Hopes and fears meet most always in the ordinary places of our lives, and it is into those places that God sends a shining star to illumine our paths of darkness and guide the way – to encourage us to keep going when things get tough. We depend on God for that light and love so special that no darkness could ever overcome it.
This year we especially carry prayers for love and comfort to come into hurting and struggling hearts and homes. This has been another difficult year – one filled with great anxiety and sorrow as we have seen so much sickness and losses during the Covid-19 pandemic that still overshadows much that we do and so much despair in the aftermath of severe storms tearing across our country. We have seen tragedies of indescribable magnitude. We have been sending love and prayers in so many directions.
And so, we look to the Christmas Star more than ever to remind us of the light of God’s love and hope that has shown forth in the birth of the Holy Child of Bethlehem. I have a story to share with you that I hope will touch your heart and renew your belief in the miracle of God’s love born at Christmas. Author, Steve Burt tells this story about two brothers who had not spoken to each other in 50 years and how they came together one Christmas Eve. It’s entitled, “Last Ferry on Christmas Eve.”
Dutch and Rummy Leland hadn’t spoken a word to each other in fifty years. Not an easy feat since the brothers seldom left Fair Haven. Yet even on the tiny island they managed to avoid one another. Now, on this bitter Christmas Eve, their mother lay critically ill on the other side of the bay at Rockland Hospital, an odd twist of fate had forced the two men – for the first time in fifty years – to board the same ferry, the last ferry on Christmas Eve, to be with her.
Once they arrived at the Rockland terminal they would walk the chilly mile, on opposite sides of the street, no doubt, to the hospital, where they would say their goodbyes and sit with their mother. Except for the purser, the below deck engineer, and the pilot in the wheelhouse, the granite-faced brothers were the only souls aboard. No cars, no trucks and no other foot passengers. Everyone was somewhere else, warm at home or visiting family.
The pilot throttled back the engines that held the double-ended ferryboat in its docking slip and prepared to engage the propellers on the other end. Dutch Leland shivered and stared in the direction of Rockland’s lights to the west. On the opposite rail, Rummy Leland gazed out over the black waters. The engines revved, the propellers churned up the frigid water, and the boat moved away from the dock.
Suddenly there came a shout from shore. “Wait up! Wait up!” On the terminal’s loading ramp stood a slim figure, arms waving madly. “Hey, Cappy! Cappy!” the purser yelled up at the forward wheelhouse, pointing in the direction of the dock. The scowling pilot stuck his head out, “What?” he barked. “Cappy. It’s Mary and Joseph. They made it!”
The engines quieted and the grey-haired pilot, voice softer now, called out toward shore, “All right, sonny. Hold your horses, I mean, hold your donkey. We’ll be right back.” The engines rumbled and the vessel eased back into the ferry slip. The boy was fourteen, dressed in a long burlap robe and leading a donkey. Beside him stood a young girl, about the same age, also in a lightweight burlap robe. The purser rolled one of the gates open and the couple led the donkey aboard. “Told you we’d make it,” the boy said. “Oh, me of little faith,” the purser quipped. “But you cut it mighty close. You two almost had to go out in search of an inn.” “No room there,” the girl said. The three of them laughed.
“So how’d it go?” the purser asked as the engines rumbled again and the propellers once more churned up cold black water as the boat gained momentum for its ten-minute crossing of the bay. “Went great,” the girl said. “Live nativities are always a hit. Have donkey will travel.” The boy said as he reached under his robe for his wallet. But the purser waved him off. “This one’s on us. A free ferry ride is the least we could do for a pregnant mother on Christmas Eve.” “Pregnant,” the girl exclaimed. “Not anymore. I just delivered, and in a manger. And, oh my Joseph, we left the baby behind again!” “Every year,” Joseph said, “you leave him behind in the manger every year.” And the three of them laughed so hard.
The purser turned, called to the sour-faced man at the rail, “Hey, Dutch! Warmer up in the cabin, you know!” The man at the rail shook his head and just hung out at the rail. “What’s with him?” the girl asked. “Oh, he’d rather be miserable,” the purser replied. Then he turned in the other direction, and said to Mary and Joseph, “Watch this”, and he called out, “Hey, Rummy! Cabin’s heated you know. The heat’s free!” The man at the rail waved him off with what looked like a stump of an arm.
“What’s the matter with those two?” Mary asked as she shivered in the wind. “Brothers,” he said, rolling his eyes, “Dutch and Rummy Leland. Nicest guys you’d ever want to meet – separately. But you can’t seat them at the same table. They hate each other. Have for fifty years. Haven’t spoken a word to each other that whole time. “Wow!” Joseph said. “What happened?” “Accident. They were fourteen or fifteen, about your age. Cuttin’ ice on the pond with their father. It had just got dark and the three of ‘em were finishing up by lantern light. It was the end of a long day and they were tired and grouchy – and they got to horsin’ around, the way kids do. Next thing you know, Dutch’s pant leg is caught in the tractor’s power takeoff hitch. And so is Rummy’s sleeve.”
“Which is why the guy limps,” Joseph said. “And why the other’s hand is mangled.” Added Mary. “So, that’s why they hate each other?” Joseph asked. “Well, sort of,” the purser said. “But that’s not the whole of it. You see, their father tried to free them, but he couldn’t. He finally managed to shut down the motor, but he slipped getting back down and fell into the ice hole they’d cut. He had a bum ticker, and the shock of it threw him into a heart attack.” Mary and Joseph grimaced.
“The boys were hurt bad, and still caught in the machinery. Worse, though, they couldn’t get loose to save the old man. They watched him slip under.” Mary and Joseph both shivered as their eyes filled up with tears. “They blame each other for their father’s death. And now, oddly enough, fifty years later, it’s the death of their mother bringing them together tonight. They’re on their way to sit with her.”
“You two oughta go warm up in the cabin. I’ll hold the donkey until we pull into Rockland.” Joseph handed the reins to the purser and headed for the stairway. “Be right up,” Mary said, then spun around and headed straight for Dutch Leland. “Hello and Merry Christmas,” she said. The man gave the girl a paned smile. “You, too,” he said. “Sorry to hear about your mother,” she said. The man nodded. “I’m glad you can both be with her,” she said. The man’s jaw tightened. “You’re lucky to have each other, you and your brother,” she said. Dutch shot the girl an icy stare.
“Two years ago,” the girl began, my brother died in an accident. Seemed like we fought all the time. We were always getting into trouble with our parents.” She turned to walk away, then looked back, “I miss him. I just miss him.” Dutch Leland’s mouth hung half open. “Merry Christmas,” the girl said and faded toward the donkey. On the other rail, young Joseph turned from a gaping Rummy Leland. Fragments of the boy’s words drifted in the wind. “I miss her, just miss her. Merry Christmas.” A moment later, the purser handed the reins of the donkey back to the boy.
And then, a strange thing happened – as the boat eased between the oak pilings at the Rockland ferry slip, the purser rolled aside the white iron gate and as he did, the gate at the back sprang open and the sudden clatter spooked the donkey, which bolted for the open gate – dragging Joseph alongside, his hand tangled in the reins. “Let go!” Mary cried out, “Let go!” But the beast and the boy plunged through the gate into the frigid churning waters. “Man overboard!” screamed the purser. “Man overboard!”
Then, out of nowhere, came Dutch, limping on the run. “I’ve got the life ring!” called a voice behind Mary, and there was Rummy ripping a life ring from its bracket on the wall. “Can you see him?” he called as he raced toward the open gate. “Must have gone down,” yelled Dutch, thrusting his hand out behind him like a relay racer would to take a baton. What he clasped was his brother’s twisted hand as Rummy reached the gate with the life ring. Before they could make eye contact, the two of them leaped out into the churning black waters.
The purser couldn’t see, but he could hear gasping and splashing and snatches of voices in the night. “Got him! Got him! Get the rind on him. Is he breathing? Where’s the donkey? Swam for shore! Let’s go toward the lights. We got him! Then a yell: “Ahoy! We’re headed for the beach. Call an ambulance.”
Ten minutes later, pilot, engineer, and purser stood on the beach at the terminal. The purser held the donkey as everyone stared at Mary and shivering Joseph, blanket around his shoulders. The dripping wet Leland brothers stared at the odd crazy creche before them. “Lucky you were here tonight,” a voice drifted in on the wind. “The two of you saved this boy’s life,” said the EMT who had arrived.
Dutch and Rummy Leland looked at one another, looked without being blinded by the anger and hate for the first time in fifty years. They looked, but had no words, no way to describe the loss they had experienced over the years. Tears welled up in their eyes and they reached out and wrapped their arms around one another and genuinely hugged.
Fifteen minutes later, the two men set out for the hospital on foot. This was a night to behold! They were an odd pair, making their way through the quiet village that Christmas Eve, walking together on the same side of the street!
What was it that came on this midnight clear and touched these hurting hearts? The Child of Christmas was God’s love born anew. The promise of God had come – Mary and Joseph hadn’t left Jesus in the manger after all! God’s love came to heal, to strengthen, to empower, to liberate, and to bring us all together in peace. In the midst of our fears and hurts, losing hope is not a choice for us because God’s love born in the Christ Child has the power to transform everything.
We live in a complicated world, a noisy world, a confusing world and it’s easy to get overwhelmed by all the bad news – we cannot deny these are difficult times and there are no easy answers. And so we need the strength and guiding light of our faith and God’s love in our hearts more than ever as we trust that God walks with us through it all. Our Compassionate and Loving God calls forth our devotion and commitment. And yet we must admit, that often we have forgotten to follow that wondrous Star and we have lost our way, and wandered into the maze of the fearful world. How fortunate we are that our God always knows where we are and finds us and sends a shining Star to guide us home. And so, this Christmas, we turn to face the light, to look up to see God’s Star – the Star that fills our hearts with shimmers of light and love, the Star that will bring us to our knees in a whisper of hope and peace.
In this holy season, may we pause to ponder and give thanks for the good news of God’s coming into our often inhospitable world as a vulnerable child. We are still waiting, still watching, still hoping, still listening for the Holy Child of Bethlehem to touch our hearts and transform lives everywhere. Look what happened that Christmas Eve on the last ferryboat. Remember the power of love and may you say “yes, there is room” for that love in my heart. This is the hope of the world and it shines forth from within us. That, my friends is the miracle of Christmas – it is a gift too wonderful for words! In peace and joy, let us say, “Glory to God and on earth, peace and glad tidings to all!” Christmas blessings to you and your loved ones. Amen.
