I am aware that our culture, even that within the Church, doesn’t much engage in talk, sermons, or tracts about the mysterious infusion, comingling, fusing of the divine and human in Jesus Christ. Expositions from the ancient and medieval church that established what the church holds most dear about the mystery of the incarnation—the en-flesh-ment—of God in Jesus don’t have much allure these days. It seems our words and language has shifted. When we read from the ancients that “God became humans so that the human will become divine” I am not sure we pause to consider, to contemplate, to wonder, to marvel, enough to be changed, and to allow our relationships to each other, to our neighbors, even to ourselves, be fused with the wonder God desire for us in this season. There’s a lot to distract us, including, let’s be honest, a lot of church busy-ness. Important, but not astonishing. God comes on Christmas to astonish us out of the usual.
So, I have a Christmas wish for my dearly cherished friends in this corner of God’s kingdom in New Hampshire. Let each of us devote some time this season to wonder at God’s Presence come close. May we set aside an intentional moment to be silent, on a walk in the woods, or by a fireplace or candle, or in a quiet corner of your home, to realize how God, the source of all Being and love, and life, and truth, and forgiveness, and light, is making a home in you, in your body even, and in the soul and of your friends, and even your enemies. Make some time in the silence of our heart, or even at across a table, to be with someone from whom you’ve felt estranged or have missed. Be one of the shepherds, or oxen, or even the Magii, who set aside months of hard and risky travel probably, to approach the manger in the stall in Bethlehem.
What would happen if all humanity saw in each other the truth that there is not one person on this splendid and sorry planet who is not the focus of the infinitely intense love of a parent who, if not earthly, is God? And this is true whether they be Palestinian, Israeli, Sudanese, Syrian, Haitian, American, Russian, Ukrainian, black or white, indigenous or immigrant, young or old. That’s a theological and spiritual message that turns every political message on its head. That’s the message at the very root of every Christmas. If, in world weariness, you’ve given up on wondering that “what would happen if,” then allow this Christmas, and your faithful friends in Christ, to help refresh you with the hope and light of carols, candlelight, prayers and children’s joy.
The message—that the Word that was present before the creation of all worlds has become flesh and is dwells among us—is the present that we get to unwrap not only on the twelve mornings of Christmas, but every day of our lives.