St. Nicholas

Listening for the Baby’s Cry

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

On the 6th day of December many Christians around the world observed the Feast Day of St. Nicholas. As Bishop of Myra in ancient Turkey, Nicholas was a kind and generous man in the third century who became the patron saint of children and sailors. Nicholas’ legacy as a gift-giver gave rise to the legend of St. Nick (or Santa Claus) that continues to this day.

But on St. Nicholas Day this year, I found myself pondering another person with a similar name and a much smaller frame than the historical figure. The person who occupied my attention was a pint-size human born to my youngest daughter a month ago. In an homage to his Greek-American grandfather, they named him Niko Gregory Moore.

Truth be told, Niko’s birth was complicated. He arrived ten weeks early and tipped the scales at just under two pounds. He entered the world with serious issues a full-term baby would not typically have. In his first twenty-two days of life, our tiny saint underwent three significant surgeries. It’s been a tough beginning, but all the same, most days are good.

Words cannot adequately express how grateful we are for advancements in medical technology. In spite of the lengthy stay Niko will likely have at Seattle Children’s Hospital, this precious child of God has brought much joy to our world.

But like another infant boy born a very long time ago against the backdrop of challenging circumstances, Niko is surrounded by a host of those who love him. His family, his doctors and his nurses are his continuous cheer squad. This little angel sleeps in heavenly peace much of the time. And we pray for an abundance of silent nights (except for the hum of life-sustaining machines).  

There are no sounds of cattle lowing and donkeys braying at Niko’s “manger.” But there are sounds of computerized equipment and alarms that monitor his vitals and sustain his life. Cocooned in a cradle of wires, tubes, probes and miniature Pampers, our little Niko stretches his tiny feet and arms with rhythmic grace while his adoring parents and his grandparents look on. 

Like the awestruck shepherds who stood around the infant Jesus, we peek into Niko’s high-tech incubator with reverential awe and nervous optimism. We exercise our faith muscles embracing fear and uncertainty, complications and confusion as well as hopes and dreams. 

As you can see, this Christmas finds me connecting to the events of Christ’s nativity on a deeply personal level. A newborn beginning life in less-than-ideal circumstances makes for a natural comparison. And welcoming a baby into the family this time of the year ratchets the comparison up a notch. It’s as though I’ve been hearing the Baby’s cry from a hay-filled manger in Bethlehem. 

Ironically, because my grandson has been on a ventilator since his premature birth, I am still waiting to hear him cry. All the same, the situation we are living through allows me to relate to the ancient Christmas story with clarity. In the midst of our anxious and joyful days, I am reminded of Immanuel (God-with-us). There are ongoing whispers that God is with us.

But I’m not the only one who can hear Immanuel’s cry. So can you. The familiar message, music and traditions of the season intersect with where you live. There is every reason to believe that Immanuel is attempting to get your attention. 

But hearing the cry from the manger requires slowing down and shutting up. The ancient Hebrew poet was right. It takes being still to know that God is in the room. As you take time to reflect on the Biblical account of Jesus’ birth, dust for Divine fingerprints. Allow the references to the supernatural in the Biblical texts to encourage you in the circumstances that find you anxious, fearful or hopeless.

The birth of my daughter’s son finds our family drawing closer to God. And in the mystery of it all, we are drawn closer to each other. As you listen for the Baby’s cry this season, I pray the same for you. After all, that is what the birth of Jesus was intended to do!

A St. Nicholas Day Reflection

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos
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.