Big Dreams

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Big Dreams” Matthew 1:18-25

Eugenia Bergstrom pulled the last batch of Christmas cookies from the oven. Her cheeks had that rosy glow that comes from working all morning in a kitchen superheated by holiday baking. She pushed a damp strand of hair out of her eyes and surveyed her work: crispy gingerbread men, Lingonberry hearts, peanut butter kisses, and sugar cookie stars flooded with bright royal icing. There would be plenty for the church cookie swap and extra for Christmas when her daughter Ella and son Lukas would be home for the holidays.

Christmas was Eugenia’s absolute favorite. Her husband Sten died in a hunting accident when the kids were little, just five and seven. Eugenia had done her best to be both mother and father, especially at Christmas. Each December, they would drive over to the “Kut-It-Yourself Christmas Grove” and pick a tree. Once they were home, out came the homemade ornaments: popcorn and cranberry garland, macaroni wreaths, popsicle stick reindeer, yarn-wrapped God’s eyes. After Christmas dinner, they would have a little toast, Eugenia sipping a tiny glass of sherry and the kids raising fizzy cups of sparkling cider. “To Poppa,” they raised their glasses. Looking back, Eugenia sometimes wondered if she had really made Christmas special, or if she had just forced merriment into the Poppa-shaped hole in their hearts that had been left by Sten’s death.

The phone rang. Eugenia swiped the face of her cellphone at least six times before the call connected. “Hello?”

“Eugenia, it’s Pastor Bob.” She instinctively turned north, as if she could see two doors down to the Presbyterian Church.

“Oh, Bob. I thought you might be one of the kids. What’s up?”

“Marge wanted me to check in and see if you would join us for Christmas dinner. Paul will be home from school, and Marge is making ham and scalloped potatoes.”

Eugenia thought of the decadent layers of thinly sliced potatoes, heavy cream, and gruyere cheese. “Bob, I thought you were watching your cholesterol.”

As he often did around Eugenia, Bob felt a little like a naughty child. “Well,” he hurried on, “It’s only one day. You know it’s Paul’s very favorite dish. Hey, I won’t tell the doctor if you won’t. But really, Eugenia, we hope you’ll join us.” She often did.

“Sorry to disappoint, Bob, but my kids will be home this year. Lukas is coming from San Diego with his family. Ella has asked for a few days off from the hospital. We are having a real family Christmas.”

Bob found this interesting. The “kids,” who were well into their forties by now, hadn’t been home in years. “What great news!” he said.

Eugenia had no time for Bob and his chitchat. She looked at her watch. “I’ve got beds to make and the ornaments to get down from the attic. Bye.” Eugenia punched the red “end call” button with authority.

Bob looked at his phone and immediately dialed his wife Marge. “Hon, guess who is coming home for Christmas, Ella and Lukas Bergstrom! No Eugenia at our table this year.”

Marge, who was as skeptical as Bob was trusting, snorted into the phone. “Phhh. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

The next day brought an old-fashioned Nor’easter, dumping two feet of snow that wrapped the village in Christmassy magic overnight. Eugenia stood on her porch with her pug Calvin and contemplated digging some pathways for him to wander for his morning business. Just then, José Rodriguez from the church pulled up with his plow, gave a wave, and began clearing the driveway. Right behind him in her SUV was his wife Heather. She parked and climbed out, followed by the twins. While Heather slogged her way through the snow to the porch, the twins plied dueling snow shovels and cleared the front walk.

“Eugenia!” Heather greeted her older friend, “Isn’t it beautiful? I’m always dreaming of a white Christmas and just look at this!”

“I’ve been looking at it. I may dream about a lot of things, but a white Christmas isn’t one of them.” Eugenia answered.

“O, Eugenia! You know you love it. But hey, we want you to come over for Christmas dinner. José is going to deep fry a turkey on our outdoor patio stove. Sooooo good.”

Eugenia doubted that deep fried turkey could ever be good, but she smiled and patted Heather’s arm. “What a treat that will be. I’m afraid I have to decline. Lukas and Ella will be home for Christmas this year.”

“Really? Well, isn’t that nice?” In the fifteen years that Heather had lived in the village, Heather had never met either Ella or Lukas. They certainly had never been home for Christmas.

Eugenia saw that José had not only plowed the driveway, he had also cleaned off her car. And those twins had dug a labyrinth of trails for Calvin the pug to wander on his morning perambulation. Eugenia cleared her throat, “Duty and doo-doo await, Heather. Thank you, dear.”

Heather and the twins piled back into the SUV, José honked the horn on the truck, and Calvin tugged at the end of his leash, eager to explore his new trails.

On Christmas Eve morning, Eugenia was back in the kitchen, apron tied tight around her skinny frame. Lukas and family were already aboard a redeye flight out of San Diego. Ella’s shift at the trauma center would finish up at 1pm, and she would be headed north soon afterward. Eugenia was making the final plans for the Christmas Julbord, their traditional holiday buffet. Swedish meatballs? Check! Christmas ham? Check! Pickled herring? Present and accounted for! Smoked salmon? Ready! Potato casserole? Yes! Lussekatter buns? Yes! Eugenia had even gotten some sparkling cider. It was going to be perfect.

The first call came mid-morning. It was Lukas. She could barely hear him above a racket of static and amplified announcements in the background. “Momma!” he shouted into the phone.

“Lukas!” Eugenia shouted back.

“Momma, we’re grounded in Denver. Big storm in the Rockies.”

“Oh no!” Eugenia felt her heart sink. “It sounds like you won’t be home in time for the Christmas Eve service.”

“Momma,” Lukas shouted above the din, “Momma, you don’t understand. Turn on your tv. No one is going anywhere. The airline says they can rebook us for Saturday morning.”

Eugenia’s mind turned over the news, “But Lukas, you were only going to stay until Sunday. How can you come one day and go home the next? Is that even possible?”

“Not really, Momma. I’m so sorry. I think we’ll wait things out here in Colorado. Maybe we can get in some skiing. But let’s look at the calendar for a summer visit when we won’t have to worry about winter storms.” Eugenia could hear someone paging Lukas in the background. “I’ve gotta’ go, Momma. Love you.” The call ended.

Eugenia was buttoning her best blouse, the silk one with the smart bow tie, when the second call came. As she did every Christmas, Eugenia was one of the Christmas readers. She knew her lection practically by heart, having run it through in front of the mirror at least a dozen times. Eugenia peered at her phone. Uh oh. It was Ella.

“Momma?”

“Ella, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you on the road?”

“I’m still at the hospital trauma center. We’ve had a multi-vehicle accident on the throughway. It’s a mess, and I’m short-staffed. I’m going to be here all night.” Ella sounded tired. Eugenia had been proud when Ella landed the head of nursing job, but it hadn’t left her daughter with much of a life. It seemed like she was on duty or on call for every major holiday, but this year was supposed to be different.

“Isn’t there anyone who can cover for you, Ella? I’m just about to head to church. You could go home and rest then drive up first thing in the morning. I bet you could be here by noon. The Julbord will be waiting.”

“I’m sorry, Momma. I’ve got three nurses out with flu, more already on vacation, and this latest incident has got us scrambling. Maybe Friday? I don’t know. I’ll try. Love you.”

Eugenia looked down at her feet, where Calvin the pug was looking up at her with adoring eyes. She bent down and picked him up. He licked her face while she scratched under his fat chin. “Thank you for the kisses, Calvin. Looks like it’s just you and me again this year.”

On Christmas morning, Eugenia stood on the porch in her winter boots and down coat while Calvin sniffed and wandered through his front yard labyrinth. Maybe she should just sell the house and move into one of those senior apartments on the other side of town. Why was she hanging on to the old place anyway? Why was she keeping traditions that no one seemed to appreciate or have time for. She sighed and turned to go back inside. “Calvin, come!” she called. The fat little dog ran up the steps and through the front door.

The first knock on the door came at 4:00pm. She was heating the ham. Already the crockpot with Swedish meatballs and the buffet with herring, salmon, and Lussekatter were waiting for her in the dining room. Calvin sat watching her every move, licking his chops from time to time in anticipation of the tasty treats that he would sample later.

“Now, who in the world could that be?” Eugenia wondered, making her way to the front door.

It was Pastor Bob with Marge and Paul. Marge was carrying a well-swaddled casserole of scalloped potatoes and Bob was wearing a Santa hat. Paul, who had always had a sweet spot for the irascible Eugenia, gave her a hug.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Bob thundered while Paul rolled his eyes. “We were hoping to join you for Christmas dinner.”

Marge walked past Eugenia into the dining room and placed her potatoes on the buffet. “Smells great in here, Eugenia,” she called over her shoulder.

Feeling both flustered and pleased, Eugenia poured glasses of sherry for Bob and Marge and a flute of sparkling cider for Paul. She set three more places at the table. Just as she was checking the temperature on the ham, the doorbell rang again. She bustled into the hallway, saying in mock irritation, “What is this? Grand Central Station?”

On the porch was the entire Rodriguez family—Heather, Jose, and all five kids. Jose held a platter with an immense deep fried turkey that smelled delectable. “Merry Christmas!” all seven family members shouted at once. Heather pushed the kids into the foyer where boots, coats, hats, and gloves were jettisoned while Jose gave Eugenia a kiss on the cheek and began to recount the details of deep frying a turkey.

It was, perhaps, the nicest Christmas that Eugenia had celebrated, at least since Sten had died. Pastor Bob said the blessing. Then they all lifted their glasses of sherry and sparkling cider. But instead of saying, “To Poppa,” Bob said, “To our hostess with the mostest, Eugenia!”

“Here, here! To Eugenia!” every glass was lifted.

Later while Pastor Bob washed dishes and Eugenia dried, they visited about this and that. “You know, Bob, after Sten died, I always felt like I had to somehow make the perfect family.”

Bob listened, “Hmm.” He prompted her to go on.

“But sometimes families aren’t perfect.”

“I hear you, Eugenia.”

“But maybe family isn’t just about flesh and blood.” Eugenia paused to look out into the living room where the Rodriguez twins were tossing a ball for Calvin. “Maybe it’s also about the families God gives us. The families we make. Don’t you agree?”

Bob paused and nodded. He was glad that his glasses were fogged by steam rising from the sink because he suddenly felt a little teary. He dried his hands on his apron and put a brotherly arm around Eugenia’s narrow shoulders. “I couldn’t agree more, Eugenia. Merry Christmas.”


Matthew 1:18-25

18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be pregnant from the Holy Spirit. 19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to divorce her quietly. 20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

23 “Look, the virgin shall become pregnant and give birth to a son,
    and they shall name him Emmanuel,”

which means, “God is with us.” 24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife 25 but had no marital relations with her until she had given birth to a son, and he named him Jesus.


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Unprepared

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Unprepared” Matthew 3:1-12

It was finals week. An entire semester’s worth of work depended upon some big tests. I was cramming for my exams, making the most of reading week. I felt good about my impending tests. Then, I suddenly realized that there was one exam that I was completely unprepared for. I don’t know how it escaped my attention, but there on my schedule was a course that I had overlooked for an entire semester. I hadn’t gone to class. I didn’t know the professor. I hadn’t read the books. How could I possibly pass that test? Like all college students, I began to panic. What if I stayed awake all night and skimmed the reading? I didn’t own the books! Could I borrow someone’s notes? I didn’t know who was in the class! It did not look good. I was unprepared.

Perhaps you have had that nightmare or something like it. I’m told that many professions are plagued by their version of the school dream. The contractor dreams of an overlooked job that must be done immediately. The caterer has a nightmare about a huge wedding that never made it onto their calendar. The business manager dreams of a surprise audit. I can testify that the pastor’s nightmare entails going to a new church on Sunday morning and discovering that you are expected to preach, and when you look down, you notice that you are naked.

Psychologists tell us that these dreams are typically provoked by unresolved anxiety or feelings of inadequacy. When we are stressed and overwhelmed, our brains work overtime to cope, even in our sleep. We awaken with our hearts pounding, feeling sweaty and gripped with self-critical worry. The experts say we should pay attention to dreams like this. It could be a wake-up call from our subconscious, telling us to attend to a particular issue, make a big decision, or change our course of action.

I bet John the Baptist had school dreams. He was born to prepare the way of the Lord, but the more John tried to live into his calling, the more he noticed that the folks who came out to the Judean Wilderness to hear him preach were totally unprepared. The messiah was coming with his baptism of fire and his winnowing fork in hand! God’s great redemption of humankind was about to unfold! But the people, they were eating, drinking and being merry, as if they had all the time in the world and could not be bothered to do their homework.

Even the piety experts, the Pharisees and Sadducees, were slackers. They may have been savants on the requirements of the Torah, but as far as John was concerned, they were a brood of vipers. They talked a good game about loving the Lord, but their actions spoke louder than words. The righteous deeds that were typically born of a transformed heart—like caring for vulnerable widows and orphans, feeding the hungry, and loving their neighbors—those deeds were nowhere to be seen. Where was the good fruit?! “Repent!” John cried, trying to infect his listeners with enough of his anxiety and urgency to inspire them to turn their lives around.

We aren’t strangers to anxiety in this Christmas season. No other time of the year is so steeped in preparation and timeworn tradition. There’s a lot to do, and we’ve got to get it done before Christmas Day. Our to-do list is as long as our arm: gifts to buy and the tree to decorate, cookies to bake and old family recipes to duplicate, packages to wrap and charitable giving to do, parties to attend and guests to host. Every year, right about this time, we wonder, “How will we ever get it all done?” As I talk about the Christmas juggernaut that is bearing down upon us, arriving in exactly eighteen days, perhaps you are feeling a little infected with John the Baptist’s anxiety, perhaps you are feeling like you just woke up from a bad school dream.

Our seasonal Study Group is reading Advent in Plain Sight by Jill Duffield. In our reading from Thursday, Dr. Duffield recounted attending a small group meeting at church a number of years ago when she was a young adult.  Their pastor asked them what they thought about Advent. The responses focused on the baby Jesus, the infant so tender and mild. Folks were thankful for the incarnation, the breaking of barriers between heaven and earth, the confidence that God is with us—Emmanuel! I’m sure everyone in the group had that good feeling you get when you know the answer to the question that the professor asks in class.

But right about then, the pastor went a little John-the-Baptist on them. He blurted out, “No one ever thinks of the Second Coming!” It’s true. In this Advent season, we look back, remembering and giving thanks for the baby Jesus. But Advent means coming. We are also called to look ahead, to anticipate the ultimate fulfillment of the great redemption that God has begun in Jesus. We are talking about End Times, Judgment Day, the Kingdom of God, the apocalypse. We’re talking about the inevitable fact that each of us, one day, will meet our maker. The ultimate final exam awaits us all—and we don’t have much say about when that will happen. Are our hearts pounding? Are we feeling a little sweaty and gripped with self-critical anxiety? Then John the Baptist and I have achieved our mission.

We are really good at preparing for the baby Jesus, aren’t we? Just look around the church—the purple paraments, the greens, the Advent Wreath, the Christmas tree in the Great Hall. But on the second Sunday of Advent, John the Baptist shows up, like a bad school dream, and he thinks we are unprepared. John wants us to temper our nostalgic looking back with some prophetic looking ahead. He calls us once again to prepare the way of the Lord, to live today as if Jesus were coming tomorrow, to bear fruit worthy of our repentance.

For John the Baptist’s listeners on the banks of the Jordan, all those years ago, preparing the way of the Lord began with a change of heart. They heard the truth of John’s words and knew they could do better. They returned to God, wading into the waters of the Jordan in an outward sign of their inward repentance. I like to think that their watery rite was followed by some fruitful living. They were kinder to their families. They prayed fervently, worshipped ardently, and feasted on God’s word. They lived with a renewed compassion, service, and love for the world around them that can only come from a life lived with God.

On this second Sunday of Advent, we, too, can have a change of heart. We can draw near to God even as God draws near to us. 18 days and counting. We won’t be wading in the Jordan, but amid all our Christmas preparations, I trust that we’ll find the quiet moment today to commit our purpose to God’s purpose. We’ll resolve to love the Lord our God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength, and we’ll go forth to love our neighbors as ourselves. We’ll bear fruit worthy of that repentance. The basket at the side entrance will fill with cans of corn for the ecumenical holiday boxes for neighbors in need. Our shallow well gifts will provide clean drinking water for many villages in sub-Saharan Africa. We’ll invite a hurting friend to attend the Longest Night Service with us this Wednesday. We’ll set an extra place at the Christmas dinner table for someone who might otherwise be alone. When that final exam comes, we’ll be ready.

Prepare the way of the Lord, my friends, make his paths straight.

Resources:

Adam England. “What Does It Mean When You Dream about Being Back in School?” in Very Well Mind, Oct. 30, 2025. Accessed online at verywellmind.com.

Catherine Sider Hamilton. “Commentary on Matthew 3:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 7, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-of-advent/commentary-on-matthew-31-12-7

Arland J. Hultgren. “Commentary on Matthew 3:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 8, 2013. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-of-advent/commentary-on-matthew-31-12-3

Stanley Saunders. “Commentary on Matthew 3:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 9, 2007. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-of-advent/commentary-on-matthew-31-12-6

James Boyce. “Commentary on Matthew 3:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 4, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-of-advent/commentary-on-matthew-31-12-2


Matthew 3:1-12

1 In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord;
    make his paths straight.’ ”

Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region around the Jordan were going out to him, and they were baptized by him in the River Jordan, confessing their sins.

But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming for his baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Therefore, bear fruit worthy of repentance, and do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 10 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.

11 “I baptize you with water for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is more powerful than I, and I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12 His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”


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