A holy, sacred, imperfect yes

It’s been a little over 13 years since I first arrived to serve as one of the ministers here at First Universalist, and year over year I find myself moved to tears during one particular part of our Christmas Pageant. It’s the time when Mary and Joseph, often played by youth from the congregation of a variety of genders, ages, and ethnicities, one on the verge of giving birth and the other doing their best to help them along, walk down the aisle of the church with varying levels of dramatic flair each season, but every year they ask the same question to the unwitting folks in the pews: Do you have any room? Please, my wife is about to give birth. Where is your compassion?

Do you have any room? Please, my wife is about to give birth. Where is your compassion?

They repeat their questions until finally an innkeeper appears and says, we don’t have any room inside, but we do have some space in our barn. It’s not perfect, but it’s warm, and you are welcome here. Mary and Joseph make their way into the barn where the baby is delivered, and one more redeemer comes alive in the world. 

Each year I watch and think, thank god I’m behind the pulpit and not in the pews. I don’t know if I could do it, even as part of the play, if I had to look those youth in the eye and tell them no, there’s no room for you here, even with a baby on the way. 

Last winter, this wondering I have every year during the pageant got put to the test. As part of our ongoing connection with Pink Haven Coalition, a collective of organizations and individuals who are committed to trans liberation and joy and to growing community defense, I and other area clergy from a variety of local congregations were contacted with a request. There was a trans couple who needed support as they sought to make the move from a state where their safety and health care were in danger. One of the members of the couple was pregnant and disabled. Could we help? I and others sprung into action searching for a safe, accessible, and affordable apartment in the Twin Cities. Weeks went by as we searched and came up with nothing suitable. First Universalist was already financially and emotionally supporting one trans individual through our partnership with Pink Haven, as well as several other families at risk, and we were at our max of what we could do. Other congregations were maxed out, too, and wary of jumping in to welcome folks in such a direct way without the structures that would offer support. I tried to look away, to say no, there’s no room at the inn, but as the weeks went by and this couple became homeless and the baby’s due date got closer and closer, I just couldn’t do it, and neither could you. 

Together, we found a good enough apartment and furnished it with the things this family would need. We hosted a baby shower when they arrived and the congregation continues to support the family with groceries, diapers and formula and the cutest, warmest clothing for this first full winter in Minnesota. It’s been about 8 months since this family made the move to Minnesota, and in that time they’ve been able to stabilize here. A safe, warm, and welcoming home has offered the steadiness they needed in order to receive consistent healthcare, apply for community services, and find joy in new friendships and our church community. A few weeks ago, the baby that was born just days after their parents’ arrival in Minnesota was dedicated in our church. This Saturday, that same baby will be the child that plays the baby Jesus in our Christmas Pageant, and we will say again that each child is born one more redeemer, one more light in this world.

If, like me, you ever wonder what you would do if someone came to your door about to give birth seeking shelter, I hope you now know your answer. We said yes. You said yes. A holy, sacred, imperfect yes. 

We said yes. You said yes. A holy, sacred, imperfect yes. 

Being a part of this church community, hearing the ancient stories told anew, asking ourselves the questions of the generations – it challenges us to take the risks, to say the holy yeses and the sacred nos that shape our lives and the lives of those around us. 

Miracles of kindness and compassion do still happen, and they happen a whole lot more often in a community committed to living with an ever-expanding love at the center. This holiday season, may your heart expand to the breaking point, may love lead you to the holy yeses and the sacred nos needed as you make your commitments real in this world, and may you know that you always have a place here at church where we promise to make room for one and all. 

In gratitude,

Rev. Jen Crow