Maybe Not So Silent Night

 

This week we are letting Mary and Joseph’s story read and re-author our story.  We have connected our own feelings of being pushed to the fringe and fray with how we meet Mary and Joseph there.  We have let the truth that as humans we still cancel each other because there is something in the human condition that doesn’t have room for diversity and inclusiveness. 

Today, I want to shift to God entering vulnerably as an infant, born in a barn, to two unwed parents for whom there was no room.

Let’s be clear, most of our theology (God talk) doesn’t have room for this truth.  We prefer a God that is a mighty fortress and declares victory and takes our side.  We prefer a God who is bold and brave and even a bit brash with the barbs to “those” people.  We prefer a God who is strong not weak.  We prefer a God who is winning not born vulnerable.  We prefer a God who is splashy and specular, not a baby who doesn’t immediately overthrow the powers that be and make everything magically better.  This narrative should challenge us and the stories we tell ourselves.  Instead, we tend to romanticize and glamorize the birth of Jesus ~ not as painful and messy as birth is ~ but as filled with halos and angels singing.  Look at the art of the Christmas cards you receive, most can be idealized visions of what was exhausting and emotional and overwhelming. 

If you are feeling exhausted, Mary knew this.

If you are feeling unsure about what to do next or what your role is, Joseph knew this.

If you are feeling vulnerable, God enters this space in you still this day.

I pray that as you stand in the straw amid the shepherds, you would let the truth of what a messy miracle birth is reside in you.  Birth is chaotic and painful and causes all kinds of questions and at the same time a joy that causes your heart to burst.  I pray that as we gaze upon God’s entry into the world, that we might fling open the barn doors of our life for God to meet us amid the messiness of our so-called life.  May you and I find in our heartfelt honesty a manger size space for God to move in and reside not just now but every day in the year to come. Amen.