It has been a tortuous few months. In early October, Hamas forces launched a surprise attack on Israel, reportedly firing an estimated 2,200 rockets at the country from the Gaza Strip area and killing 1,200 Israelis. The result was a new conflict in a tinderbox area of the world, with countless innocent civilians, many children, suffering under the weight of years of unresolved tensions. All of this while the war in Ukraine also continues on with no end in sight.
Amidst all of this, on Oct. 31, I visited “trunk or treat” events at Clancy School and Jefferson City Fire Department, and saw gatherings of happy families safely sharing the Halloween tradition of costumes and candy. I doubt there were many with the thought of world conflict clouding their minds and displacing their good feelings. It was a fun time.
But then reality came back, with reports in late October and early November from the Anti-Defamation League of an over 400% increase in antisemitic incidents across the U.S. And in the Middle East, Hamas was still holding hostage hundreds of Israelis, many of them children; Israel was still bombing Gazan civilians.
Next came Thanksgiving, when once again, most of us could put aside thoughts of the larger world and focus on those we care about most, our families and loved ones. Life for us in Jefferson County was peaceful, and we could go about our daily lives without living in fear. I could get up each morning and walk my dog without worrying whether a rocket was going to hit my house or decimate my neighborhood.
Now we approach Christmas. Amid a slew of concerts and gatherings, a Christmas parade lit up Boulder. The Grinch descended Mt. Crumpit to visit Montana City and Jefferson City Firehouses. Santa came to Jefferson City on a firetruck, to the joy of little ones, their parents and families. Again, the crises of the world seemed far away and easily put out of mind.
Somehow, we live through this juxtaposition of joy and crisis in a place we call the Big Sky Country.
I am a member of a Facebook group called “The 406!” (I continue to be fascinated at how often we identify in this state by our telephone area code). We mostly share photos of the marvel that is Montana: sunrises and sunsets, mountains and rivers, wildlife, flowers, trees, forests, valleys, anything that reveals God’s glory. As I look out my window, it is lightly snowing and the ground is slowly being covered by a blanket of white. Is there anything more peaceful?
I admit that there are times I feel guilty for the life I have here. God has truly blessed many of us who live here and can appreciate without fear the majesty of God’s creation. It certainly is not so throughout the world.
As a person of faith, I ask: What am I to do about this circumstance? I cannot bring about world peace or end world hunger. I am not truly knowledgeable about issues in the Middle East so that I could help move the discussion forward and relieve the ongoing tensions here in our own country over what is happening. I can support organizations that more effectively do work in these areas, but somehow that is removed, at arm’s length. It’s important, but at the same time I feel a need for more.
So, what, then?
In the latter months of my mother’s life, I was not in a position to be able to spend much time with her, having a family of my own and living nearly 1,000 miles away. That task fell mainly to my sister. But I did decide that if I couldn’t be there for my mother, perhaps I could be there for someone else, some other person in the later stages of life in need of companionship and support. So I resolved to visit different shut-ins from our church, just to be present for them and let them know they were not alone. It didn’t take much, just a little of my time now and then.
It just seemed that sometimes what you can’t do for the greater world, or for a need far, far, away, you can do for someone right where you are, even though that person might be a stranger. In that way you can bring a little joy, whether in the midst of crisis, or the loneliness of waning years, in a simple way you might not have thought of.
For people of faith, we must at some point find a way to live out that faith, in joy, in crisis, in majesty. As we await with expectation the coming of a child in a humble manger, may we as well realize that there is more to the joy of the season than Grinches and Santas, concerts and parades, and even beautiful mountains and glorious sunsets. There are also others around us in their own lowly mangers of life who need joy as well.
And as we do unto the least of these, we do unto the Holy Child.
Roger Reynolds is a retired engineer living outside Jefferson City. He is also an ordained deacon in the Episcopal Church. His photo postings on Facebook can be found under Dcn Roger J Reynolds, as well as in The 406! group.
