Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Bingo!

St. John’s, Decatur loves to play bingo. On parish retreat when we compete, everyone gets so engrossed in the game that often the winner or the caller are accused of foul play from all those who do not yell out, “BINGO!” In the first years I served at St. John’s, during the season of Advent (this time when we remember Christ coming into the world and look ahead to Christ coming again), we also gathered to play bingo—except this version differed from the standard variety. This was St. Nicholas Bingo!

In St. Nicholas Bingo the rules were the same, but the board on which we played was different. Each square’s picture had something to do with the life of St. Nicholas. A funny looking hat that we call a mitre indicated that in his life Nicholas of Myra was a bishop. A candy cane represented that our modern sweet treat actually connects to a bishop’s crosier, which in itself symbolizes a shepherd’s crook. There were squares with boats because Nicholas allegedly saved some sailors lost at sea. And, of course, there were bags of gold coins.

Church historians do not have an abundance of hard evidence about the life of Nicholas of Myra. They know he was a bishop. They know he lived in the 4th Century. They know he lived in modern day Turkey. They believe he took part in important councils in the Church. More than that though does not seem verifiable. Still we remember the legends that surround this man and in particular a story of Nicholas helping out a family in need.

Back when Nicholas was a bishop in Myra he learned about a man who had three daughters. The family was very poor. When the daughters were old enough to be given in marriage—the practice of the day—the father worried that he could not afford the dowry. Without the dowry—that bit of money given by the bride’s family to the groom to help the family get started—the father worried his daughters would turn to an unsavory line of work. On three consecutive nights Bishop Nicholas came strolling by the poor family’s home—and depending on who tells the story—either  threw bags of gold through a window, down the chimney, or into stockings hanging out to dry. In this way the women were saved and Nicholas’ anonymous giving sparked a movement that we continue to this day. You see, the legend of St. Nicholas and the gold coins has given to us and to the rest of the world our modern character of Santa Claus—if you say St. Nicholas quickly enough it actually sounds the same as Santa Claus.

Somehow in the telling and re-telling of this story though we lost the plot, or rather we added some extraneous and harmful details to it. Perhaps it was parents who were tired out by their children and wanted some help corralling them. Maybe it was marketers who wanted a little bit of help selling some more toys for good boys and girls. Possibly song writers came up with this characteristic of the anonymous gift-giver all on their own, but somewhere along the way someone added, “He’s making a list and checking it twice/He’s gonna find out who’s naughty or nice.” This tiny little detail shifted the story from one about anonymous giving to judgment. This tale of Nicholas and the bags of gold originally did not support this description of conditional love. In fact, at this time of year the legend of Nicholas charges us to live in an entirely different way.

Giving without others knowing who has given the gift stands out as a particularly appropriate way to remember and honor St. Nicholas. Certainly we can be part of this by taking names off of an angel tree, participating in our own shoe drive with the Boys’ and Girls’ Clubs of North Central Alabama, or countless other random acts of kindness. And yet, I think that there is even more to this.

Our challenge at this time of year may be to feel like we have to do something good, so that we do not appear to be like Ebenezer Scrooge. This though, is getting things out of order. During Advent, when we watch for God coming into our lives—past, present, and yet to come—may we come to God like the little children in our Gospel lesson for today. First and foremost, they were curious about Jesus. They came to him wondering how they might receive instruction, blessing, and mostly love. Jesus invites us into this as well. May we be curious first, yearning to learn about God, and then once we have been so transformed by God’s blessing and love, may we go out to care for others.

If we think that we have to earn our way into God’s good graces, if we think that we must be nice to get St. Nicholas’ approval, or if we think to assuage our guilt we must be nice to others we have not approached God like those little ones came to Jesus. The reign of God exists for all, but Jesus makes it clear that the ones who approach with curiosity, openness, love, creativity, innocence, gratitude, and other child-like attributes will be the ones who enter it, experience it, and get transformed by it. Although we do not know everything about Nicholas we can see through his acts of kindness that he had the creativity, gratitude, and love like that of little children. At this time of year and especially on this day may we not worry about who’s naughty or nice and instead approach Jesus like little children and when we do may we welcome others just as Jesus, Nicholas, and little children show us we can!

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