This past month I would have the joy of reuniting with classmates for a 50th anniversary luncheon. It was great to see so many from my past at Collingdale High School.

Since I am pastor, I can usually count on things like, “ Hey Bear, you’re gonna pray, right?” This time I came prepared.

They had a memorability corner, with year books, the bronzed football boot that would get passed between us and rival Sharon Hill after the big Thanksgiving Day game and other things. I brought a sweatshirt that had been emblazoned with the name of the school, the year 1970 (talk about an ancient archaeological artifact), and the name Camp Canadensis. They hosted our football camp.

I told them that it had a story behind it. You could tell that it would have been more comfortable on an elementary school student. There was reason for that. Being white my mom must have washed it in warm water, because it shrank. Oh well, it adorned one of my daughter’s teddy bears for a lot of years. Because it shrunk, it survived. Instead of being worn, torn or discarded, it still exists.

This brings us to the Advent/Christmas Cycles. I’d like to think that in this time of shortening days especially we anticipate “The Incredible shrinking God.” Think of it, Handel’s Messiah echo the words, “King of Kings and Lord of Lords.”

The Lord is God of galaxies. I’m always humbled, for instance, that if we could shrink our sun to the size of grain of sand, the closest star, Alpha Centauri would be over four miles away. If we could design a ship that could travel at the speed of light it would take over four years to get there. And that’s just two stars in a galaxy of billions.

And yet, divesting himself of any pomp and circumstance, our Lord becomes small enough to fit in a human womb and finally in a manger. He would be so helpless, that if Joseph had not been warned in a dream, a sword might have quickly ended his story. Made small to be of service. Perhaps that is lesson for us all.

I didn’t learn the meaning of “sacrifice” literally until I was in my forties. If you break the word down you get, “ Sacri” meaning sacred and “fice,” meaning to make or to do. When we sacrifice for others, we are doing sacred things, we’re being Godly. Given Christ’s’ coming in stable, I get choked up each year when I hear the French carol “Il Est Ne Le Divine Enfant.”

One stanza that gets me weepy tells of his lodging in stable with straw as bed. “ Pour un Dieu quel abaissiment” (For a God, what an abasement.). Talk about a come down. Talk about humility. Pardon the play on words, but our Lord became a cellar dweller for us. Talk about a voluntary demotion.

The Advent Christmas Cycle teaches us about humility. That word comes for “humus,” fertile soil. When we practice humility, we become fertile for service and suffering for others. The human family has always been plagued with sinful pride. In Genesis, the devil tempts us with telling us to take the forbidden fruit and become like gods. We’ve either know, or been folk that ought to be called “legends in their own minds.”

I knew a pastor who joked about healing services that he would do. Usually, it would consist of having people come up, anointing them with oil and praying, “I lay my hands upon you in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, beseeching him to uphold you and to fill you with his grace, that you may know the healing power of his love.”

It’s a good prayer to memorize and use on others and yourself. (Raking pine cones, oh my aching back.) Anyway, he said he knew some church members that instead of putting oil on their heads, he’d prefer to use “Preparation H.”

The best answer to our world’s “big headedness” is seen in the manger.

God comes to us as a small child. How are we getting small in ministry to others in our world?

I will never forget a hot summers after noon at a little country church in western Maryland. A young pastor was simultaneously being installed and ordained, so the bishop was present.

The Rev. Doctor Paul Orso was in attendance. He brought his bishop’s ring and bishop’s cross and bishop’s shirt and his bishop’s chasuble (communion poncho). Everything was going well, when there was a glitch during the communion service. Nobody came forward to collect the empty communion glasses. The bishop shrugged his shoulders and started receiving the empty glasses.

There he was, with his bishop’s ring and his bishop’s cross and his bishop’s shirt and chasuble, collecting the empty glasses. I thought to myself and still think to myself, “if a bishop can pick up the empties …” How do we shrink down our egos to be of service to the one comes in a manger?

My Dad ran the coffee concession with his fellow railroad car inspectors. Talk about little things, little drops of condensed milk, little grains of sugar and coffee. One of his recipes was railroad coffee. Measure it as you would for your Mr. Coffee, but put the water and a coffee in the same pot and bring it to a boil three times. You’ll know why the trains rain on time.

Afterward, during Christmas week my job would be to gather up the tiny pennies, dimes, nickels and quarters and put them in their appropriate sleeve to go to be bank. Little things like grains of coffee and dimes help put me through Muhlenberg. Like the song says, little things mean a lot.

Julia Carney, would write.

“Little drops of water,

Little grains of sand,

Make the mighty ocean

And the pleasant land.

Little deeds of kindness,

Little words of love,

Help to make earth happy,

Like the Heaven above.”

Dear Jesus, as you came into a world as a small babe, help us to shrink our egos for your service. Use us as instruments of your love that seeks no grandeur. Help us to get smaller to do greater works. Use our hands, feet, heart and mouths to follow your way of humility and sacrifice. Amen

A blessed Christmas and New Year. Keep up the God Work!