He’s been living rough for a few years but drawing big crowds for his impassioned calls to change direction and act justly, in anticipation of one who will really transform people. He knows he is setting the stage for someone else but doesn’t know him – until one day he’s baptising a long line of people in the Jordan River.  

We are in the home stretch toward Christmas and a new year, whatever that might mean. On the way we have the shortest day of the year, probably one that provides mixed feelings because we will have barely 9 hours of daylight on the 21st as our little planet spins us to ever longer days for the next 6 months.

It’s a season of joy and anticipation, mixed with constrictions and anxiety. Many carry on as though nothing has happened while others line up for food or medical care. Folk in Ukraine celebrate the calendar differently than we do and have assaults and occupation to endure while lighting candles of hope and celebrating “God with us”.

His handshake was gentler than his normal bear-like grip. A grandfather holds the tiny fingers of his infant grandson. A friend holds a hug longer in a moment of sorrowful comfort. A younger woman holds the arm of an elder, steadying her balance.

It feels like Black Friday is just an extension of Hallowe’en. I think it’s over but there have been ads in every sort of media non-stop for too long. On one hand deals on every sort of consumer good are on offer – “It’s our national duty to support the economy”. While on the other, food banks and housing advocates are pleading for attention. People in our country of affluence and conspicuous consumption can’t afford food and shelter.