Our church had its first Christmas Program rehearsal this morning during the Sunday School time. Squirming kids, hyper kids, talkative kids. (I loved the blurted question part-way through from the 2nd grade girl who asked, if Jesus was born king, who was the queen?) 5th-grade Isaiah the prophet coming down the aisle to declaim his prophecies doing what I can only describe as a pimp-walk. The girl who can do Native American sign language absent. The high school narrator giving a very low-keyed reading of the miracle of the Incarnation. Mary not wanting to stand close enough to Joseph to touch him. The ranks of the heavenly host depleted by a few absences. 7th grade Elizabeth not sure she wanted to wear a costume that simulated a pregnant woman. The special-effects boy pretending to shine a flashlight at one point because the real one must have been elsewhere. In other words, a typical first rehearsal of a Sunday School Christmas program. Controlled chaos that by the end of the hour was beginning to take recognizable shape. I'm confident that on the night of the 17th we'll have a respectable presentation of "Three Gifts for Jesus," written by one of our members. And in the midst of this morning, God's grace. The 2nd-grader with the question giving me a piece of paper after the children's sermon to "give to Jesus:" a marker drawing of Mary and Joseph with the baby Jesus in the manger between them and all surrounded by red hearts. Nevermind that she had squabbled with another girl during the early part of the service over the markers. Somehow the reality of the miracle of God's love for us had touched her, prompting this response.

Paul said that God puts his treasure into earthen vessels, into clay pots. That's the church. That's us Christians, the people of God. Clay pots. Controlled chaos, AWOL Sunday School students, missing flashlights, and strutting prophets. Yet somehow, God's love comes through. Have a blessed Advent.