When my Midwestern sister-in-law sincerely and genuinely asked me over dinner, "Aren't you nervous traveling so much and sometimes seeing Muslims on the airplane?" I was dumbfounded, especially since I'd recently flown Jordanian Air, clearly the minority passenger.

 

Wonder why she - and any of us - hesitate to form relationships based on appearances?

 

Since John reminds us no one has ever seen God, what's the model for how the others should look?

 

There's a Jesus in my attic, framed, ready to hang on the wall, looking very Roman. Family folklore surrounds this piece of art but I don't find his face comforting. Perhaps I should try again, applying the notion of God's love being perfected in me when I love the others, even Roman soldiers.

 

Perhaps the unknown artist wasn't presenting a lopsided vision as I have assumed all my life.

 

Advent is already influencing me as I contemplate having a role in perfecting God's love in me. That strikes me as a big deal. 

 

When I broaden the way I love one another, I can adjust my thinking about refugees, and immigrants, and those with family histories vastly different from mine. God gets it right but if I visualize his love perfected in me because of the way I go about loving others - my incentive to try harder reaches new heights.

 

As a classically trained journalist, I seek facts. As a Stephen Minister, I listen to others as they share the facts of their life's experiences because in that sharing, people often find new insight.

 

As a cradle Episcopalian, I recognize the opportunity for new awareness and understanding swirls around me all the time.

 

Entering this season of Advent by thinking outside the manger, I claim the abundance possible as I act more vigorously on the call to love one another.