I realize you’re very busy right now but I’m hoping it’s not too late to offer up a plea – not for myself but for everyone. See, I know we’ve made some mistakes this year; not signaling before changing lanes and forgetting to claim a bit of income on our 1040. And there have been some big ones too, like the rape of women and children, and indefinite incarceration without attorney availability. We’ve started wars and we’ve broken promises, and we’ve been victims of those same human frailties. We’ve chosen to focus on what moniker by which we label this time of year instead of how to better serve the Lord so many of us claim to worship. We forget our history and heritage, if we ever knew such things, and instead we watch reality television and subsist on the misery of others because deep down we’re resentful of their money, success, beauty and lives. We’ve had moments of greed and envy and spite and rage; We’ve judged and we’ve blamed; and we’ve been remiss in our duties, our loyalties and our priorities.
We’ve screwed it up, big time.
But mostly, we try. We fall short because we get so wrapped up in the minutae of our own lives, but our intentions are good. We retreat because we’re scared, because we’ve been hurt and taken advantage of, and we don’t know how to break the cycle. We love, but not with our whole heart, afraid we’ll lose ourselves in unseen tides to be washed up on unfamiliar shores. But really, we want more, we know we’re capable of so much better.
So I ask you, Saint Nicholas, patron saint of children, lovers, soldiers, paupers, pilgrims, poets, sailors, scholars, and the unjustly condemned (just to name a few) – I ask you not to turn away, but to give us back the best of ourselves; patience when faced with ignorance, compassion in a typhoon of intolerance, and wisdom in a sea of misinformation.
But most of all, I ask that you give us Faith. The serene, silent knowledge that we can reach our potential, that we can improve the world, that we can live without victimizing or oppressing others. Grant us that small, still voice that knows it’s not important what name you give your diety, as long as you honor her/him with your ability to understand and act in the best interest of all humanity and not just yourself. Remind us of our fallibilities, our fragility, and our simultaneous strength. Remind us to Love.