It's Christmastide. Outside my brother's house in Port Angeles, darkness fell hours ago, and a storm front has brought wet wind and rain. But inside, we are warm, dry, and full of good cheer and my sister-in-law's good cooking. A fire blazes in the woodstove, and lights blink on the tree. On the television, the choirs of St. Olaf's College are singing: "Sing we Noel, Noel..."

Back in Seattle, where the numbers of homeless people are growing and crowded shelters are full, thousands of people must sleep outside tonight in the cold and rain, as Paul Leighty explains in a Seattle P-I editorial. Fortunately, the City recently responded to rising criticisms and a campaign led by Real Change: it suspended its sweeps of homeless encampments in the city's parks and greenbelts. Until a few days ago, police officers had been making unannounced visits to encampments and removing homeless campers' personal belongings, often leaving people without the means to pass the night safely in the winter cold.

The first of many readers to comment on Paul's editorial characterized the homeless as either "lazy, crazy, or stupid." But it's worth giving a bit more thought to who is homeless today, and who has been homeless in the past. Today, for example, the Dalai Lama remains homeless in Dharamsala, India, far from his home in Lhasa, Tibet. Likewise, many of Tibet's greatest teachers are now scattered across the world, and the beloved Zen master, Thich Nhat Hanh, has lived in exile far from his homeland of Vietnam for the past three decades.

A little more than two thousand years ago, King Herod became fearful of rumors that he would be overthrown by the newborn King of the Jews. He began sweeps of his own, sending soldiers to kill male children under the age of two. Warned in advance by a dream, Joseph gathered his wife and child, and fled across the border to Egypt. Just like thousands of Iraqis today, this little ancient family escaped violence in their own country to became homeless refugees in a foreign land.

So as a young child, Jesus was homeless by necessity. Later, he became homeless again, this time by choice. We can only speculate about the reasons that led him to this decision. Perhaps the Prince of Peace understood how too many possessions can burden the spirit and harden the heart. Maybe he heard the voice of God in the desert.

We also can imagine how compassion for the dispossessed must have grown in him during the years of his own young life as a homeless exile. Perhaps if one is homeless and dispossessed for a time, as Jesus was, one can never feel superior. May Jesus' example inspire compassion and generosity of spirit to grow in our own hearts as well. Merry Christmas!