I have been thinking about the Nativity for several weeks now, really looking at the characters in the tableau. Who are they in real life, who am I in the scene, am I even in the scene? I believe it is easy to gloss over the Nativity, it has become so familiar, our eyes and brain take in one view, murmur how sweet it is, how beautiful, but not singling out any one character for a deeper look. And sweet, beautiful?…cave, desert cold, manure, scratchy hay, cold stone, and jackasses. Yes, that is the character I am stuck on, probably because I relate to seeing the ass in myself mostly, and the realization that Christ from His first moment had jackasses around Him, almost like the Father saying, this is life, you are always going to have manure and a couple of complete asses around you. Not much has changed in 2,000 years. Right? Under all the glitter, lights, artificial pine scent, there is still copious amounts of manure and well, yes, a jackass or two.
When I look at the Nativity, I see a young mother facing diapers, dirty swaddling clothes, where was she rinsing those out? When her milk came in and she had soaked through her tunic, where did she get fresh clothing? And Joseph, older, wiser, trying to help, trying to keep things clean, bringing fresh water, perhaps feeling overwhelmed. Silent Night? You ever been around a bunch of animals and a newborn? We are told the angels were singing and getting the shepherds wound up – enough that they came to see the newborn. Shepherds. The lowest of the low in that time. So lets look at who we have, an abundance of animals, mice, rats, birds, ox, a jackass, shepherds, tired new mother, tired old man, all in a cold cave. I remember just after giving birth to the boys that entertaining was not high on my list, actually I was continually throwing people out of my room, the hospital staff was always happy to get me out in 24 hours. Thank you very much.
But isn’t that life, people come bumping into our journey, shepherds, unwashed, on the fringe of society, do we allow them into our nativity scene? Tired mothers, who just want a bath, and maybe some clean clothes, do they fit in our pristine vision? Who else do we find? Wise men. We too have wise people come in and out of our lives, some stay longer than others, some are fleeting, momentary touches of clarity.
We are told that not long after Jesus’ birth, His mother Mary was told that a sword would pierce her soul. Unusual sentiment to offer a new mother, so should we be surprised when people say odd things to us? That the octave of Christmas contains great sorrow, and portents of great pain to come should tell us something of life. We should be aware of when the real characters of the Nativity visit us, they won’t look anything like a traditional manger scene, they will come in the distressing disguise of humanity.
We get so caught up in the panoply that has become Christmas, impressive displays, lots of paraphernalia, a full coat of armor, protecting us from real encounters. When we strip all the way down to an empty cave, then we have to fill our own Nativity with very real characters. I believe Mary visited me yesterday, a young mother so brimming with life and love, she left what she was doing to visit an old woman, and gave the gift of her presence, her light remained the rest of the day. I got to talk to a wise man yesterday, just a for a moment, he left the gift of gold, he was taking time out to reach out. I was spared the jackass yesterday, but as I kept mostly to my own company yesterday, I suppose that character was present also. Patient Joseph came home last night, faithful, quiet, weary. We had another surprise visit last night, an angel, she came and brought stories and food, smiles, left with much more dog hair than what she came in with, and was happy for it, our silly canine forgot his reserve and begged her to chase him through the house.
A true live Nativity is filled with real live people, more sinners than saints, more jackasses than angels, more manure than believable, for manure is a renewable resource, it is always there.
If I were to have a single wish fulfilled this Christmas, it would be that every soul who walks into a church tonight is welcomed like a son or daughter, that there were mirrors that truly reflected who we were in the Nativity, what a startling thing it would be to look and see two long ears and an asses’ jaw, or the worn garb of an unwashed shepherd. Who would we see?
