Love Your Neighbor
As the days to Christmas countdown, let us be reminded that
“Christmas it seems can’t be bought in a store, Christmas, perhaps means a little bit more.”
Let us love and embrace the unlovable this Christmas. Let us look around and notice the lesson in the star that shined so bright in the sky 2000 years ago.
The message was love. Love came to earth to teach us how to love and love we must.
We must love.
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Missing It…
Let’s be honest.
Things haven’t changed THAT much in 2,011 years. Women are women, always have been, always will be. We are busy, we fail to often to embrace grace, we compare far too much, we have to watch out for gossip and did I mention, we’re busy?
If I had been alive THEN it likely would have looked a bit like this:
I imagine that if I would have been up before the cock crowed and I would have gone about the chores of the day.
I would have fetched the water, I would have fed the baby, I would have swept out the barn, (even though it was supposed to be somebody else’s chore.)
I would have fed the animals.
I would have made the bread.(Wondering outloud, how in the world can these people of mine eat so much?)
I would have pressed some olives and drawn some water from the well.
I would have mended somebody’s tunic that had gotten mysteriously ripped. (Time for the “play tunics” talk again.)
I would have made my way to the market.
I would have conversed with the women in the market, always trying to stop short of gossiping.
I would have ’heard’ the rumors,everyone heard the rumors
I would have returned home, put the fire on; I would have made dinner and I would have put the babies to bed, and I would have taken one last look around our home before turning in for the night.
I would have looked up in the night sky, and simply not noticed that THIS night was different.
Let’s fast~forward 2,011 years and welcome to our world!
I get up before the alarm goes off, and I begin my day. I spend some time in quietly praying before my feet hit the floor, but it’s often not the quiet time I hope to have, imagine having.
Then it’s off the bathroom for a shower and make~up, I’m over 40, there’s work to be done.
I would complete the never ending pile of laundry, and find myself mending the jeans that have mysteriously gotten ripped; need to have the “play” clothes talk again.
I would move on to emptying the dishwasher, (even though it was supposed to be somebody else’s chore.)
The list of daily tasks would go on and on, you know it, you live it. Addressing the cards, calling a friend, making a meal for a friend, responding to emails, buying the gifts, wrapping the gifts, waiting in the endless post office line, going to the grocery, going back to the grocery to get what I forgot the first time, chauffeuring my people, remembering the teacher gifts!
The list continues and I find myself unloading the groceries, (wondering, how these people of mine can eat so much) making dinner, convincing them it’s delicious, tucking everyone in or in my case now, texting everyone to make sure they are safe, watiting up unitl they arrive home from work, unplugging the tree and the outdoor lights when everyone is where they are supposed to be, and finally pausing to look up at the stars in the night sky.
Our lives with all their modern conveniences really haven’t changed that much.
She missed it 2,000 years ago, not because she intended to. Sure she had heard the rumors swirling all about the town. Rumors of a baby born in a manger. She MEANT to be there, but she was just too BUSY.
The truth is, I am her. I am that same woman in Bethlehem 2,000 years ago.
Simply too busy to notice WHAT was going on around her.
The blessing in hindsight is that I can learn from her, the lesson of a lifetime.The heavenly hosts will announce it, the shepherds will find their way, the Kings will bring gifts, and as every woman who has ever walked before me, I have an opportunity to notice the significance of this night, the opportunity to notice the significance of the life of Jesus. Jesus, who came to live in darkness as the perpetual light. Miss that and I miss the meaning of this life. All the other things simply don’t matter if I don’t know this Jesus. This Jesus who came to earth in a stable, a stable for us, for me.
I silently vow that I will not be immersed in my own busyness that I miss it. I WILL see that star in sky; the star of HOPE, the star of LOVE, the star who welcomed GOD,coming to dwell with us. The star that whispers still today, “Be still and KNOW that I am God.”(Psalm 46:10) I will not miss the arrival of a Savior, a Savior who came to dwell among us to teach us…
The Well Worn Manger
I remember exactly why we bought them.
They were not on this newly pregnant couple’s budget, but I wanted a Nativity that this child and any others to come could touch. Two more followed and touch they did. They imagined and played with this set as if they were there. I have many memories of one or another toddling up to me with the Baby Jesus announcing, “Baby Jee!” Those camels and donkeys made the trip to Bethlehem more than once.
It’s only when you look closely, that you see the GAPING hole in the Wise Man’s head (a hole that would require surgery of enormous proportions.) The camels and donkeys have lost ears in their time with us, the angel’s star hangs on by a thread, and the crib that holds the baby Jesus…well, it stands only on one leg, having to be sandwiched between Mary and Joseph.
I’d often find Baby Jesus lying upside down when I passed by, one run past the table or too much jumping from the floor above and He was shaken to the point of a faceplant that I have to “fix” the Savior several times a week…There is something about baby Jesus laying there face down that just doesn’t seem right.
At first glance they ”look” just fine.
It’s only upon further observation that you notice the flaws.
It reminds me of most of the people I know, including myself.
We are flawed, broken and worn, trying our best to pull it together for the outside world.
I walked by that set the other day and paused to notice how worn-out and broken those pieces looked. I thought silently that they are likely more “realistic” to how the REAL Mary, Joseph, shepherds, Magi and animals really felt out there. Not unlike how I often feel; Not unlike the teenagers I now have feel. Broken, exhausted and as if someone has taken a piece of me and the world seems to say “no room here today.”
Worn out, and yet at the same time, all of those present that night must have had an overwhelming peace, knowing that for a brief moment, they were experiencing something on Earth that was Divine.
Mom called a few years ago and told me that she was trading in her manger set that looks JUST LIKE THIS ONE, with one exception, hers had not had little hands play with it, break it, imagine with it. Hers has sat neatly, and lovely under the tree and it remains in perfect condition.
“Do you want it?”
“YES, I would LOVE to have the set that isn’t broken!”
Then I thought about it.
It was as if a voice spoke just loud enough for me to stop, ”But isn’t that how you come to the manger?”
Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28 (New Living Translation)
I’d love to tell you that I’d get all dolled up for a visit to a stable. The fact of the matter is I come to the manger looking very much like that Nativity of mine. As much as I love the Master’s rendition of that night in Bethlehem, I doubt that any of them looked as perfectly as they are depicted in the fine artist’s mind. They were filthy, exhausted, fragile and broken themselves. That is how they arrived at the stable that night.
We too are invited to come to the manger as our authentic selves.
Broken? Imperfect? Flawed? That is who we are.
He doesn’t want us to clean up and welcome Him in, rather He wants us to open that door and allow Him to see, gaping holes and all.
It’s in the broken Nativity that I see the humanity of it all, the humanity of our authentic selves. We come seeking hope and peace. We come BECAUSE we are broken and in need of a Savior. He came so that we could approach that manger with the same peace that those there that night in Bethlehem felt, the peace that transcends all understanding. The peace found only in Him.
It is exactly how I come to the manger. Less than perfect, exhausted with a few rough edges that are still in need of smoothing out, and even embarassingly gaping holes at times. It became so clear to me that this is exactly WHY I need this manger.
It’s me, it’s us…
Get rid of the broken, imperfect, worn Nativity? NEVER.
It’s who He was born for. The ones with the gaping holes, rough edges and flaws. He lie in a manger so that the lonely and exhausted could approach with hope. The message is there, always has been I suppose, for anyone who cares to look closely enough.
Linger at the manger this year, look closely, bend low and allow your brokenness to show, after all He came into the world for you and me.
May the peace of the season be yours in renewed hope that only a baby in a manger can bring to a very broken world.
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