The places in which we are seen and heard are holy places.

They remind us of our value as human beings. They give us the strength to go on. 

~ from “The Meeting Place” in “Stories That Heal,” by Rachel Naomi Remen, MD

I have a story for you today. A story of faith and perseverance, generosity and love, small miracles and big surprises. It is a story that reminds me of Mary and Elizabeth, but actually begins with two women named Patience and Caroline and a little boy named Stephen.

Way back in August of 2022, I got an email from Patience asking if she could come in and see me. Patience is an immigrant from Nigeria who had taken shelter here at our church during the pandemic. We had gotten to know each other a bit during her time here in part because she is a woman of deep and abiding faith.

Well, Patience needed help and she figured that First Churches was the place to turn to in her time of need. She came to my office, sat down, and told me all about her nephew, Stephen, who still lives in Nigeria. She pulled out her phone and showed me a video of a little boy, maybe four years old, who can barely walk because his legs are so bowed and twisted.

Stephen was born with severe rickets but, as it turns out, the good people at Shriner’s Children’s Hospital in Honolulu had accepted him for corrective surgery that would enable him to walk and grow normally. Shriners was willing to pay for all the medical costs as well as the cost of the flight from Nigeria and the hotel stay for Stephen and his mother, Caroline. All Stephen and his mother needed to do was secure visas and passports from the Nigerian government, and Shriner’s would take care of the rest.

“That’s amazing,” I said.

“Yes,” said Patience, “it is. But my sister does not have the money for the visas.”

“Oh.”

“Pastor, please,” she said, “I just need you to wire $1000 to my sister in Nigeria so she can pay for transportation to Lagos City, stay overnight there, appear at the embassy the next day, and apply for their visas and passports?”

“You want me to wire a $1000 to Nigeria?”

“Yes.”

“Oh Patience, I’m sorry. But I can’t just do that.”

I mean, you get that, right? As you can all well imagine, I get a lot of requests from people in need and thanks to all of you, we have a pastor’s family fund that enables me to help where I can. As a church we often help people cover everything from rent and utilities to veterinary care and minor car repairs. But the one thing I always require is a bill so that I can keep a clear record of where the money goes.

One thing I don’t do is just give people money to go spend however they see fit. And I have never wired money to anyone, anywhere, but certainly not to a person I‘ve never met in a foreign country.

I want to be clear that I believed Patience and my heart went out to her, but I also didn’t know how I could help her. However, that didn’t stop Patience from coming back… again and again… a bit like the persistent widow in the gospel of Luke (chapter 18).

Now you also need to know that Patience gets around with the aid of a walker. She has a stutter. English is her second language. She has limited access to the internet and she does not drive. She has found housing in holyoke, but she needs to take public transportation to get anywhere, including here, and those busses cost her money and energy she does not have.

My regretful insistence that I could not help was just one more obstacle Patience was determined to overcome. And her persistence on behalf of her sister and her nephew moved me deeply.

Patience would appear month after month and we would pray together for a break through and then strategize. I was happy to give the money to Shriners if they could facilitate the visa. I was happy to find a UCC or other church mission on the ground in Nigeria that could facilitate the transfer of funds, and I would donate the money to them.

I really wanted to help, but I wanted an official organization to work through so we could track the money. Unfortunately, after months of work on this, all of our leads and ideas came up empty.

Then one day Patience showed up in my office with a thousand dollars worth of food stamps that she had set aside over the months hoping she could barter with me so it wouldn’t cost the church anything to send the money. This women was willing to sacrifice anything and everything she had to help her nephew and she was using every asset, every tiny scrap of power, all the creativity and care at her disposal to turn the tide in his favor.

Her love and sacrifice for her family and her faith in the goodness of God and the potential of the church just about broke my heart. And so I prayed and I prayed and I prayed about this, and finally I made a deal with God.

I was leaving for Assisi in a week and had spent a good amount of time learning all about St. Francis; a man who would have sent the money to Nigeria - along with his only cloak and last pair of shoes- without a second thought regardless of the risk or the need for a paper trail. It’s why he’s a saint.

I, however, am not. “But God,” I prayed, “if nothing else comes through before I leave for Assisi, I’m just going to do it. I’m going to wire the money to Caroline, trust in you, and hope for the best. Amen.” And friends, the day before I left on pilgrimage, that is exactly what I did.

Thanks be to God, Caroline got the money. She made the appointment at the embassy and gathered all the relevant paperwork - including the letter from Shriner’s who had scheduled Stephen’s surgery for September 2024. She secured transportation and made the long journey to Lagos, only to be told at the door that her appointment was actually scheduled for a year from the exact date when she had been told to arrive.

Patience came to my office once again and told me all of this through her tears. “It is a very corrupt government,” she said. “From the paperwork they know that we want to get Stephen here for his surgery and they did this on purpose. They understand the urgency and wanted my sister to bribe them to move the appointment forward a year.”

Anticipating her next question I said, “Oh Patience, I don’t think I can give you any more money, and I certainly can’t give you money for bribery.”

“I would never ask you too,” said Patience. “I don’t want to give those people a cent. I just need you to contact the U.S. ambassador to Nigeria, and ask him for help.”

“Oh. Well, Patience,” I said, “I don’t know the U.S. ambassador in Nigeria.”

Somehow this did little to deter her. She just sat there and looked at me with tears in her eyes. We had come so far, just not far enough, and I hated to disappoint her, so I said, “But you know who I do know? Lindsay Sabadosa,” our representative here in the Massachusetts House. “I’ll call her,” I said. And I did. Of course they don’t work internationally, so they couldn’t help, but Lindsay’s office put me in touch with Jim McGovern’s office and a young aid by the name of Koby took our call.

Koby listened as I told him the story of Patience and Stephen and Caroline. God bless that man, he waded through the reams of documentation we had assembled over more than two years. And friends, Koby did not disappoint. He secured a new appointment for Caroline, and we thought we were saved.

Unfortunately, when Caroline and Stephen arrived they were willing to see her but not him. Somehow Stephen had been left off the paper work. Cue Patience in my office… again. Cue me at the keyboard sending e-mails to Koby…again. Cue Koby on the phone with officials in D.C. and Nigeria…again.

And, dear reader, although I don’t know who he talked to, somehow Koby broke through. He broke through so hard that, I kid you not, his calls resulted in a formal apology from the consular section chief in Lagos.

Long story not so short, thanks to Patience and her persistence, along with the help of First Churches, Lindsay Sabadosa, Jim McGovern, and a dogged congressional assistant named Koby, Lagos rolled out the red carpet and Caroline and Stephen finally received their visas and passports and will be traveling to Honolulu for surgery on January 8th.

In a series of emails to us all, Patience and Caroline wrote: “Once again, our God have proven that nothing is too hard for Him to do. Please with the deepest gratitude and sincere appreciation of everyone's assistance. Our family wish to update everyone that the US Embassy in Lagos have finally delivered the passports .… Our entire family send their love and appreciation for all your supports and kindness. …May God Almighty throw open the floodgates of heaven, and send help to everyone of you whenever you need it….Thank (you) for your kindness and compassion.  We are so happy and full of gratitude to God and to all of you for standing with us and supporting us in this rollercoaster journey. Thank you. This is truly a dream come through [sic] and a mighty miracle of God.”

***

“Blessed is she who believed…believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord’” (Luke 1:45).

Those are the words that Elizabeth spoke over her cousin Mary, but those words could just as easily be spoken by Patience over Caroline or Caroline over Patience.

And yet to look at any one of these women, “blessed” would not be the first word that comes to mind. These women are no strangers to suffering and heartache, setbacks or hardship.

When Mary set out alone, pregnant, and on foot, she had nothing but her faith to guide and sustain her as she scrabbled through a dangerous countryside for her cousin’s house. Mary had little to no money, power, security, or standing…all things we associate with a #blessed sort of life.

When Elizabeth received Mary, she was in an equally vulnerable position. Her husband was homebound, mute, and on leave from the temple where he worked. In her advanced age Elizabeth had hidden herself away for she was as susceptible as Mary to the vagaries of pregnancy and public opinion.

When Patience grabbed her walker and set out alone for my office day after day and when Caroline set out alone for the embassy in Lagos, they had little to no money, power, or standing. Travel was not easy, safe, or secure for either of them.

Convincing people to believe in them and their plight, trusting in the goodness of others, humbling themselves to ask people for support and convincing those people to advocate for them even after door after door had closed and there seemed no way forward - all of it was an uphill battle at every turn.

And yet all of these women believed. They believed that God was on their side! And I am so humbled by their faith.

Mary and Elizabeth, Patience and Caroline: they did not give up hope when all hope was lost, when the odds were firmly against them, when people told them over and over again that what they longed for and believed was possible could not possibly be done.

They did not give up hope because they believed wholeheartedly in God’s promise, the promise that God loves the least, the last, and the lowly. They believed that what is impossible, especially for people on the outside and underside of this world, is possible with God.

They had faith that God was at work in them and in each other and -here is the kicker - faith that God was at work in us…that God would come through for them through the kindness of people like you and me and a congressional aid named Koby.

And day after day they doubled down on that promise and eventually their prayers were answered.

Friends, we tend to think of Christmastime as a season of small miracles, and it is, but I don’t think it’s because this season is holier than any other. I think this is a season of miracles because people like you and me are just a little more open to showing up for each other, seeing each other, believing in each other, and doing what we can to help each other.

It’s a miracle that Mary and Elizabeth survived their pregnancies…but it was a miracle that was aided and abetted by their love for one another, their solidarity with each other, and the fact that they saw and affirmed God at work in each other.

It’s a miracle that a little boy from Nigeria will make it all the way to Shriner’s hospital in Honolulu and finally learn to walk; a miracle aided and abetted by a pastor and the generosity of her church, a government aide who truly cares about the people he is in a position to serve, and two women who refused to give up on each other or the little boy in their care.

In her daily devotional from this past Monday, Vicki Kemper wrote: “God’s promises are true. We may not (always) live to see them fulfilled, but our faithful lives can hasten their coming.” Mary and Elizabeth’s faithfulness to God and each other hastened the fulfillment of God’s promise into the world. Patience and Caroline, with a little help from us, hastened it a little more…and friends, there is yet more to do.

“Blessed is she who believed,” and blessed are we - you and me - when we see - really see - the people God has placed in our paths, and then open our hearts and our hands to help them as we are able.

God’s promise to lift up the lowly and fill the hungry with good things begins with us.

God’s promise to lift up the lowly and fill the hungry with good things will always be true in as much as people like you and me and Patience and Caroline and Mary and Elizabeth believe it is true and act on our belief.

Blessed is she… and blessed are we…. blessed when we believe in the promise of God and one another. Thanks be to God and thanks be to all of you. Amen.