Journal of Sacred Work

  My earliest friend appeared in 1946 when, at three, I met my neighbor, Jill. We are still friends! (1951 photo by my dad)

   Because her family had a Christmas tree and gave presents, I did not know she was Jewish until about eight – or even what that meant.

   Christians, raised like I, childishly thought that our holiday, bearing our savior's name, must be the best. Even Jill's Jewish family celebrated "our" holiday. Therefore our religion must be superior.

   Then at twelve, we moved from L.A. to Toledo, My new best friend, Greg. was Catholic.    

   "You're going to hell," he said before Christmas.

   "What?"

   "Only Catholics get heaven,"* he said confidently. 

   "You mean being Methodist is not enough?" 

   "Nope," he said.  

   Greg was a year older and I looked up to him. It was like he was saying, "If you don't believe in Santa, no presents!"

   I asked my Mom. "Oh, those Catholics," she said dismissively. 

   When we moved to Nashville ("The Buckle on the Bible Belt") a hospital board member shook my hand, leaned in and asked in a loud whisper, "You're a good Christian, right?"

   "I'm trying," I answered, "and since you're a Christian,  how are you doing praying for your enemies?"

   His laugh signaled he did not take that teaching seriously. 

   Today, as an ordained minister, I follow Jesus and his teachings. Many Christians believe that Jesus spoke literally when he said, "You can only come to God through me." 

   My deepest belief is that God is Love for all, not just Christians. Why would a non-Christian who lives love go to hell?

   Love is the universal Santa. A patient's religion plays no role in treatment. Living love assures a sacred and magical holiday. 

   Merry Christmas from my family (including our five grandkids) to you and yours.

-Rev. Erie Chapman

Photo: 5 Grandchildren – by Tia Chapman.