I spent the morning trying to decorate my house...a creative christmas venture. I found it a little overwhelming taking all my decor out and realizing that I know exactly where it should all go in my former home, but in this new house, it was a whole new space. You would think it's a lot of fun, but it felt a little like moving where you try your couch one place, the couch you love a lot, and it just doesn't seem right. These little holiday treasures have become so special to me...and for some of the things there just isn't the right place for them...yet. :)
I took a moment in my perceived "stress" to pull out my advent devotional and read. I read a portion by theologian J.B. Phillips which is underlined from years before. I like coming upon something I've read and already loved enough to underline it. This essay is titled "The Dangers of Advent". Today I liked this portion:
"By far the most important and significant event in the whole course of human history will be celebrated, with or without understanding, at the end of the season, Advent. The towering miracle of God's visit to this planet on which we live will be glossed over, brushed asside or rendered impotent by over-familiarity. Even by the believer the full weight of the event is not always appreciated."
I am always seeking to be in a state of awe that God has in fact visited this earth, and that at the end of the day, that is the most important thing to know when we grapple with who has created us and what God is like. This piercing reality is the kind of thing that changes everything. I think of the greeks who bowed to statues and mythological gods who were narcissistic, moody, and to be pleased.
Here, God breaks through our uncertainty and shows us what He is like...he is kind, loving, gracious, merciful, humble, serving...God is love.
This stunning reality, made known in Bethlehem continues to bring me to tears. As I read Phillips' words further on in this essay, I began to cry. I began to cry because I know this loving Jesus, he is my savior and dear friend. He walks with me and loves me and redeems me...and the closer I come to Him, the more in awe I am of the paradox of a God who knows every hair on my head and yet also makes the sun rise and set and holds the plants in place and even calls them into existence.
You see, Jesus is here by his magnificent, powerful, logic-defying Spirit which interacts in my everyday life...every day.
This portion causes me to ache with love inside:
"What we are in fact celebrating is the awe-inspiring humility of God, and no amount of familiarity with the trappings of Christmas should ever blind us to its quiet but explosive significance. For Christians believe that so great is God's love and concern for humanity that he himself became a man. Amid the sparkle and color and music of the day's celebration we do well to remember that God's insertion of himself into human history was achieved with an almost frightening quietness and humility. There was no advertisement, no publicity, no special privilege; in fact the entry of God into his own world was almost heartbreakingly humble. In sober fact there is little romance or beauty in the thought of a young woman looking desperately for a place where she could give birth to her first baby. I do not think for a moment that Mary complained, but it is a bitter commentary upon the world that no one would give up a bed for the pregnant woman- and that the Son of God must be born in a stable."
When I read the words "heartbreakingly humble" I think of the janitor that has stayed late at my work to clean my office for minimum wage. I think of the two women who come to my home once a month and with careful detail love me by cleaning my house. The way that they attend to detail is achingly beautiful. In their broken english, these women seek to let me know that they too know this Jesus, they too follow this baby savior king. The way that these people who our culture gives little too, reminds me of the way that Jesus was known to this world.
I have known and know a few people in this world who so embody the spirit of Jesus Christ that being in their presence is almost overwhelming. They are so kind, so loving, so deeply present that it is almost hard for me to maintain eye contact without tearing up. A pure experience with real love is heartbreaking. We are all starving for it...even if we think that we are not. Even a glimpse of this love is overwhelming. This is why it is to be our goal as Christians to become more and more of a vessel for God's love to pour out through to this world. I have found that my eyes are generally the best place that love comes through. To look at someone and love them as they are is the greatest gift we can give.
I recognize that to many this whole story can seem all too mythical and mystical. After wrestling through the facts, details, and historical backings...I am left enough proof but most overwhelmingly with only the testimony of a gradual getting to know of Jesus that has happened over my life. It has left me with a stunning sense of awe.
Phillips also talks a few paragraphs about familiarity and what it breeds. The old saying he says "familiarity breeds contempt" is only true if the person you are becoming familiar with "superficial and at heart unreal who let us down when we grow familiar with them. It is then that our previous admiration can turn to contempt."
Conversely, with the best kind of people, the more we know them, the more we grow to love and respect them for who they are.
And so this is how I feel for this aching moment in history. To imagine it in its fullness, and experience it for its quiet beauty, is the kind of love that God is like. It's different than we expect, but deeper, authentic, more achingly merciful and humble than anything that this world could offer us. And so it is for this reason that my heart bows deeper and deeper in worship of the baby in Bethlehem, Jesus.
