In the name of the Divine, wars are waged, people are persecuted, prejudices are justified, and rules and more rules are often strapped onto the invisible backs of souls.
Where is freedom of the human spirit in that? Or a recognition of human equality? Or the good? Or God?
Today is the response to questions like these. The magic of St. Nicholas. The lights adorning homes, stores, bicycles, Douglas Firs. Kitchens aglow with whirlwinds and aromas. The (almost) pause in commerce. Radios, iPods, and TVs vibrating seasonal notes. And anticipation as palpable as an exhale on a brisk morning.
The genesis to all of this takes place a long time ago in the outskirts of a small town on a piece of farmland. An under-the-radar birth; a baby born both God and human. A boy who became a carpenter who grew into a man who spoke a simple message: love one another, forgive one another, have faith, remember to pray.
The message makes sense. The man and his divinity are more mysterious. Between the two is a chasm without a bridge, only belief.
Don't you love a good mystery?