First Person HOSANNA IN THE HIGHEST
The Rev. William Van Oss, Rector, St. Michael and All Angels, Sanibel
W
hen I was a child, the day after Thanksgiving was a very special day. It was the day my mother would climb up to the attic (a place too dark and scary for me to go) and retrieve a well-worn cardboard box and bring it downstairs. A table in our family room usually filled with family pictures was cleared, and I was given the supreme honor of setting up our family’s Christmas creche. Opening the box, I would first pull out the wooden stand and pieces of the stable that slid together easily after so many years. Next came some straw that seemed to diminish with each passing year. Then a single lightbulb on an electric cord was fitted into a hole in the back of the stable. Then the figures, each carefully wrapped in well-use tissue paper, would emerge from hibernation. Carefully pulled out one at a time, this was the most exciting moment. I would anticipate which figure it would
be: the ox or donkey? A shepherd or sheep? A wise man? Mary? Joseph? Each one had a certain place. The shepherds were positioned near the stable while the wise men were placed on the other side of the room (they would make a journey across the room that lasted until January 6th. I was a nativity “purist”). The ox and donkey each had its spot inside next to Mary and Joseph. Sheep could be scattered about (creative license). Baby Jesus remained wrapped up inside the box until Christmas eve. After placing all the other figures in their proper places, the last one to find its home was the angel. She had a wire loop on her back so she could hang from a small nail in the gable of the stable. She was brightly colored, with a beaming smile, holding a banner that read: “Hosanna.” My mother told me that meant joy. After it was all set, my family would gather around, and I would plug in the light. From above, like the angel with the Hosanna banner, we would behold the glowing scene: ordinary people who said “yes” to God’s invitation now gathered to welcome the Son of God into the world. Setting up that Christmas creche was always a reminder of how ordinary people (those in the scene and those standing in the room) can know Christ and make him known. Throughout more than 30 years of ordained ministry, I have witnessed this in a myriad of ways. Since coming to St. Michael and All Angels in Sanibel, I have seen Vaccine Angels secure over 200 appointments for people struggling to navigate online scheduling. I have also witnessed a willing group of
almost 50 volunteers who serve as Angels on the Go, do small household projects, give rides, make meals, and offer support for people in need. The angels above sing Hosanna as the angels here on earth embody Emmanuel, the love of God with us and within us.
I began serving as the rector at St. Michael and All Angels in September, 2020 after 20 years of serving parishes in Minnesota. I was born and raised in Green Bay, Wisconsin in a devout Roman Catholic family and ordained a Catholic priest in 1996. After 5 years, I resigned to marry Sue, and we have continued to minister together every step of the way. We have one child in college in Chicago. I love the beauty of the liturgy, the language of the Book of Common Prayer and music. I enjoy leading Bible study and small groups. I like exploring the questions with other seekers who are trying to pattern their life on Jesus' life. I love the beauty of Sanibel, jogging and riding my bike.
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