From the Pastor’s Desk

Merry Christmas from Kenya!

Years into our marriage, we had not yet acquired a nativity scene. Part of it was grief. On our honeymoon Erin and I had looked at a beautiful set in the woodcarving region of southern Germany but had decided against it because of the price. On vicarage we saw a nativity set display from the Vatican in Hartford, Connecticut. One African creche had all the pieces in ebony, and the baby Jesus carved in ivory. A few years later I met Fred. Fred was a pushy salesman from Kenya working over the internet to drum up business. His company name, “Fredex,” amused me. Claiming to be Lutheran, he sent numerous emails and I succumbed. “I want a European set, not the African animals,” I specified, “and the baby Jesus in white stone.” I was told from my missionary contact, Rev. James May from Lutherans in Africa, to be careful when doing business with Africans. They don’t do business like Americans. It wasn’t going to be cheap, but it would be a present for my wife. I made my purchase in early November so that it could arrive in time for Christmas. He sent the package by airmail promising delivery in less than a month.

Christmas came and went, and I had to inform my wife that I had been swindled by an African businessman. We had a good laugh over it. Christmas then, for another year, was without a nativity. Fred was persistent. “Have you received the package?” “No Fred,” I said, ingratiating him with a response. He sent me a picture of the box with tracking information. The tracking information didn’t work. In July my wife called. “You will never believe what showed up,” she said. In order to save money, he had sent the package by boat. The thin cardboard box that had made its trip halfway around the world was covered with Kenyan stamps. As I opened the package my heart sank. “I got the package that you sent Fred, but what am I supposed to do with broken manger scene pieces?” “No problem,” he said. “Just glue them.” Then he had the audacity to ask me if I would send him $50 more for a stone carved crucifix he had put in the box as an extra. “How about this Fred,” I said. “For a broken manger scene and a cross I didn’t ask for, I won’t pay you anymore money, I won’t review your product, and you can never contact me again. We spent some time gluing the pieces together. Joseph was cracked in half, and the skirt of Mary’s robe was damaged. Surprisingly, the one piece that had come through the voyage unscathed was the baby Jesus.

Each year we open the dilapidated box from Kenya. We bring out the pieces, marred, broken, and glued back
together, and we set in the middle the one piece that is different than all the rest. The baby Jesus reaches out. White and smooth and simple, He embraces the world He came to save. Occasionally a wise man falls over and his head rolls off, and we are obliged to get the rubber cement out again. We are all broken by this world. Not Christ. He is the Spotless One. His little arms reach out for us all. He is the Savior who, from a long distance, came to where we are. People may leave our home at Christmas saying, “Did you see the manger set the pastor has, it is made up of broken pieces!” Our nativity, however, is one of the most special Christmas treasures that we own. A few years later I ran into James May who lives outside of Nairobi. “Do you by chance know Fred from Fredex?” I asked. His teeth flashed. A big beam crossed his face. In a quiet voice he said. “Yes, I know him.”

A blessed Christmas to you all from our family to yours.

In Christ,
Pr. Seifferlein