December 2025
“Welcoming Christ at the Door”
“I was hungry and you gave me food… I was a stranger and you welcomed me… Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25:35–40)
After Daylight Saving Time ends, the days feel shorter and the nights seem longer. In the same way, Advent is a season of waiting in the darkness—waiting for Christ to come, waiting for light to break into the shadows, waiting for hope to rise again. But Advent is not only about waiting for a baby in a manger. It is also about preparing our hearts to welcome Christ as He comes to us today—often in unexpected ways, often through people we tend to overlook.
This year, I’ve been thinking a lot about doors. December is full of them: the doors we decorate, the doors we open to family and friends, the church doors we walk through for worship, and even the doors we close against the winter cold. But Advent asks a deeper question: What doors in our hearts are we opening—or leaving closed—to Christ?
Scripture reminds us that Christ comes not only as the Prince of Peace, but also as the stranger at our doorway. He comes as the homeless one seeking shelter, the lonely one longing for connection, the poor and powerless waiting for justice, and the last in line who needs someone to say, “Come in—you matter.” Matthew 25 speaks powerfully to me, especially in the winter season: “I was hungry and you gave me food… I was a stranger and you welcomed me… Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”
This Advent, our communities face real challenges. With government support reduced and programs struggling, more families are feeling the weight of food insecurity, heating bills, and the simple difficulties of daily life. In these moments, the Church’s calling becomes even clearer: to welcome Christ by welcoming those who are hurting.
Every act of compassion becomes a doorway. Every shared meal, every prayer shawl wrapped around someone’s shoulders, every Operation Christmas Child box, every hour at the Food Shelf, every kind visit or phone call—these are ways we open the door to Christ Himself.
Jesus said, “I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (Matthew 25:35). This is Advent hospitality—not just preparing our homes for Christmas, but preparing our hearts to receive Christ in the faces of those who need hope.
So, this December, I invite us as a parish to ask:
Where is Christ knocking today?
Who is waiting at our door for welcome, comfort, or help?
What small act of kindness can become a doorway of grace?
May our churches be places where no one stands alone in the cold.
May our hearts be open to Christ’s surprising presence.
And may this Advent season lead us to welcome Jesus anew—not only in the stable, but at every door where love is needed.
Blessings to you in this holy season of waiting and welcome.
In Christ’s love,
Pastor Jenny