A St. Nicholas Day Reflection

A framed calligraphy in a local thrift store provided a definition of redemption

Recently I stopped at the Mercer Island thrift store, my favorite shop in town. I was in search of a couple unique items to add to our “Santa Closet.” That’s what we call our guest bathroom when it is decorated with my collection of Santas. My trip was a success. In addition to a couple small miniature Santa figures, I found a reproduction of the original first edition copy of Clement C. Moore’s “The Night Before Christmas.” It was only 99 cents.

But before I left the store, my eyes locked on something I wasn’t expecting. What I saw caught me by surprise. To be honest, it was quite humbling. There on a shelf with other Christmas decorator items was a beautifully framed poem I had written.

The poem, illustrated by a calligrapher friend, was inspired by my favorite holiday movie “It’s a Wonderful Life.” I loved the way it turned out. I loved it so much I had framed copies made that I sold (along with books I have written about the movie) when I’ve appeared at the annual “It’s a Wonderful Life Festival” in Seneca Falls, New York. That what locals call “the real Bedford Falls.”

But what was my framed poem doing in our local thrift store? Perhaps I had given it as a hostess gift when my wife and I were entertained at some home during the holidays. And because they didn’t like it as much as I did, they dropped it off with other unwanted items. Maybe I had given it to as a birthday present to a resident at the retirement community where I worked as chaplain. When that person passed away, it’s possible their family donated items to the local thrift store when emptying out the apartment.

Humbled by the reality that my gift had likely been discarded, I began to reflect on the how humility is baked into the message of the Christmas story. The teenage mother of Jesus was humbled when told she’d been chosen to give birth to the Son of God. Facing the scorn of townsfolk for being in the family way without the benefit of marriage was far more humbling then than it is today.

Likewise, Joseph was no doubt humiliated when he discovered his fiancé was pregnant. After all, he knew it couldn’t be his child. Swallowing his pride, he chose to stand with Mary although unable to explain her situation to those in his sphere of influence.

The Apostle Paul also connects the concept of humility to the incarnation story. He calls Christ followers to follow His example by being willing to give up their rights and feelings of privilege. He claims that this is what Jesus did by being born a human baby.

In his letter to the first century church in Philippi, Paul writes, “In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature[a] God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature[b] of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross!” (Philippians 2:5-8)

Although initially humbled by finding my framed art in the thrift store, I now was humbled to realize I might be blaming the wrong people. Reflecting on the situation, it occurred to me that I might have inadvertently included that prized item in one of several bags to be donated after cleaning out my garage. Perhaps I was the one responsible. Alexa, how do you spell “egg on my face?”

Well, I wasn’t going to leave my framed IAWL poem at the store. But it was no longer mine to simply take home. To reclaim it, I had to purchase it. I added that which had once been mine to my basket of Santa Closet décor and made my way to the cashier. I had redeemed what I had lost.

Driving home with my reclaimed possession, the thought occurred to me “Redemption is also at the center of the Christmas story, too!” The reason God came to us as one of us was the buy back a treasured possession He couldn’t imagine spending eternity without.


In addition to each week’s post on this website, Greg Asimakoupoulos offers daily video devotionals on his YouTube channel. Here is a sample video. If you are interested in receiving these devotionals Monday through Friday, you can subscribe on Greg’s channel.

The Innkeeper Has a Name

The innkeeper in our nativity set bears a striking resemblance to me

For those Christians who follow the liturgical church year, Christmas is not just a day but a season. It’s a season that continues for a dozen days until Epiphany (January 6th). That concept is illustrated in the popular holiday song “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”

As a result, our family leaves our decorations up when many Christmas trees and wreaths are deposited curbside. Our tree remains lit. Alexa continues to play the carols and our Fontanini nativity figures remain in position at the entrance to our family room.

In our nativity scene, we have the innkeeper and his family next to the holy family in the stable. And this neighboring family bears a striking resemblance to our family. There is a husband and wife and three daughters. Like me, the innkeeper figure is mostly bald. Through the years we’ve even added a son-in-law and grandchildren.

Truth be told, the account of Christ’s nativity in the Gospel of Luke does not actually make reference to an innkeeper. But it does refer to the fact that Mary’s baby was born in a barn because there was “no room in the inn.” So, it’s fair to infer that there likely was someone who, recognizing their plight, directed Joseph and Mary to the only available shelter on his property.

The other day as I took time to ponder these plastic figures and the story they represent, I had a new insight. The person who offered the stable to the expectant couple was actually practicing a principle that the newborn baby would one day teach as an adult rabbi. In Matthew 25 Jesus acknowledges that when we care for individuals in need (the homeless, the hungry, the sick and the imprisoned) we are showing love for Him. In essence He said, “When you serve the least of these, you are serving me.” 

Even before Jesus was born, the innkeeper was serving Him by serving the homeless refugee teenager who was carrying Him. He was figuratively (and literally) doing what Jesus would later call all His followers to do. And he’s not the only “innkeeper” to serve God by serving others.

This Christmas season I am thinking of a modern-day innkeeper who began a life-changing organization one hundred years ago this year.  His name was Abraham Vereide. He was a Methodist pastor in Seattle who came from Norway as an immigrant in the early 1900s. Touched by the plight of the poor and disadvantaged in his adopted city, Pastor Vereide sought out local business leaders to find a tangible way to influence their community for good. And so, Goodwill Industries was begun in 1923. With $475 and a dream, Pastor Vereide rallied a group of Seattle businessmen to help provide employment, education and economic opportunities for those struggling to get by.

From the start, Seattle Goodwill collected used clothing and furnishings and hired individuals to repair and sell recycled items. Their initial motto was “Not charity but a chance.” Giving those who struggle a chance and giving used items a chance for a second life remains their mission a century later.

As an immigrant, Pastor Vereide understood the challenges of the refugee. And from the very beginning of this humanitarian organization, Seattle Goodwill has attempted to bridge the gap created by unemployment, discrimination and racial prejudice. Like the Bethlehem innkeeper, Vereide made sure those who worked with him looked out for others for Christ’s sake.

The rest of Pastor Vereide’s life was punctuated by a similar concern for others. During the economic downturn of the 1930s, he regularly met with Seattle’s mayor Arthur Langley and other city leaders. When Langley was elected Governor, he asked Pator Vereide to convene the first ever Governor’s Prayer Breakfast.

Eventually word of what was happening in the Evergreen State reached the White House. President Eisenhower called on the founder of Seattle Goodwill to created goodwill among lawmakers in Washington D.C. And, thus, the Presidential Prayer Breakfast Movement was born. 
Seventy years later this amazing phenomenon, that finds lawmakers from across the aisle meeting for Bible study and prayer, continues. And, oh by the way, I know about Pastor Vereide because he was the minister who performed my Norwegian grandparents’ wedding in 1921.

An Empty Place

Facing the first Christmas without that certain someone is painful

Lord, there will be an empty place
at the Christmas table this year
and I’m not able to face it alone.

Please pass a second helping of Your grace.
I can’t seem to get enough of it these days.

The lights on the tree are all ablur
as I look through swollen eyes.
The carols catch in my throat.

Wise men and shepherds,
angels and stars,
Christmas cards, candles and gifts–
They all used to move me.
But this year I’m scarred
by wounds too fresh to heal.

And I’m scared by what I feel–
haunting memories,
good ones,
but regrets, too.
Too many tears.
Too few tissues.
Too many days in December.

And all because the one I love is dead.
And is my heart.
I’m so afraid of what still lies ahead.

Please remind me that Easter,
and all that it promises,
will soon be here.

Dear God, maybe then I can celebrate
the good tidings of Christmas
in spite of this empty chair.

A Blue Christmas Hymn

For those who grieve, Christmas colors aren’t just red and green

Reds and greens blur into blues as
Christmas draws near.
Lights and music morph to black as
grief wrestles fear.
Silent night is not a carol.
Rather, it’s a constant peril
as a distant lonely sparrow
coaxes a tear.

In the darkness of depression,
day mimics night.
While my friends are celebrating,
I long for light.
Paralyzed and lacking feeling,
dizzied by my world that’s reeling,
desperate for a longed-for healing,
wrong disses right.

God in Heaven, hear my longings.
Draw near, I pray.
Free me from what holds me hostage
day after day.
In my anxious desperation,
be my safe and sure foundation.
Though I’m lost, be my salvation.
Show me the way.

tune: Ar Hyd Y Nos

An Advent Carol (Revisited)

This ancient tune invites contemporary lyrics

In a world of war and hatred
peace is trumped by power’s hand.
Airstrikes in Ukraine and Gaza,
bloodshed in the Holy Land
mock “Joy to the World”
and much-loved carols.
How we long for what God’s planned.

In a world of pain and suffering,
refugees and children cry.
Homeless migrants beg for shelter.
Alley addicts use and die.
Haunting carols heard in churches
stalk the dreams of passersby.

In a world where truth is questioned
and our freedoms are at stake,
decency is oft abandoned
or deprived of “give and take.”
Still the carols play continually,
rousing us for goodness’ sake.

In a world in need of Christmas,
we are actors on a stage.
Lines we learned as little children
call for us to turn the page
and live out the love the carols
prophesied for every age.