Amazing, to me

A very long time ago - over two thousand years ago - magi traveled from the East, maybe Persia, to Judea, to find a king. They traveled a long distance, following a star. A star, of all things - but they were probably people who studied stars, and they were convinced they should follow this one, and that it would lead them to a star.

Amazing, to me, that they did this.

They arrived in Judea, and traveled to Jerusalem, to the King's house. That's sensible enough - where else would you look for a king? The were able to speak to King Herod. This king was afraid - so afraid that he had murdered his beloved wife, Mariamne, her two sons, her brother, her grandmother, and her mother.  He also killed his first born, Antipater.  The man was not mentally stable, and he had a dark, violent streak.  He (maybe slyly) asked the magi to continue their quest, and to report back to him on what they found.

The Magi continued on their journey, following the star, until they arrived in Bethlehem. They found what they did not expect, I imagine, when they started this journey. They found a baby with his mother, not in a palace, but in a humble house. This? This is the king we are searching for? I don't know if they said that, but I would have.

Amazing, to me, that they were convinced that this was the king they were seeking.

They demonstrated great faith and presented gifts to this Infant King - gifts fit for a king. And they knelt and honored him. They were then warned in a dream to ignore what King Herod had told them, so they returned home a different way. They did not tell Herod where the newly born king could be found.

Amazing, to me, that they believed the dream, disobeyed the orders of the king, and headed home a different way.

What would you have done?

 

Real

I'm (slowly) reading the book of a sermons called Between a Rock and Holy Place by Rev. Tom Nolan. I'm reading it slowly because it is a book of seasons through the season (Advent, Christmas ... all he way through Ordinary time).

I'm a little behind and catching up. In what I read today, Tom tells the story of a Christmas pageant in Kentucky. The characters - Mary, Joseph, angels, and others - were played by preschoolers.  Jesus was someone's baby brother.

As the angels left the stage, one of them stopped and stared in amazement at the baby in the manger.  "Look! It's a real baby."

In the Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples that they need to have a child-like faith.  In Matthew 18:3, Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven."

As I read about the angel who was amazed that the baby was real, I am reminded that we can have that kind of faith, too. We can believe that Jesus, the child, the man, the son of God, is real.

What difference will it make in our lives and in the world if we have that kind of faith?

 

O Little Town

 

A few weeks ago, probably during Advent, our congregation was singing O Little Town of Bethlehem. I noticed there is a phrase of music in the third line that is lacking some of the harmony that is present in the rest of the song.  As you sing it, you arrive at this section, and there is a musical unity to it that was striking to me. 

This time singing it, though, I looked at the words that we sung at this part of the music (and I've expanded the word phrase a little bit to place it in context:

• the everlasting light
• proclaim the holy birth
• but in this world of sin
• the great glad tidings tell

When you read them in sequence, they are almost a poem.  I don't know why there is this unusal (for the song) piece of unharmonized music (or at least, less harmonized), but I like to think it is because the musician wants us to notice something. 

There is an everlasting light, born to us. We live in a world of sin, but we have great glad tidings to tell - to proclaim the holy birth. 

Give it all away

But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not
because of any works of righteousness that we had done, but according to his mercy, through the water of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit. This Spirit he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.  (Titus 3:4-7)

It’s Christmas Day.  We opened the packages, emptied the stockings, and shared good meals with our families. Today is Christmas day, and what we might want more than anything is a nap.  But the time has come.  Christ has come.  Now what? 

The passage we read today tell us that Christ appeared, and brought salvation – not because of acts of righteousness, but because of God’s mercy.  “The spirit is poured out on us richly through Jesus.  

 A few years ago, we were with our boys at an amusement park in Florida.  We were having a great time together when the rain started.  This was not a drizzle, or a sprinkle; this was a downpour, unlike anything I had seen before.  The rain came down from heaven by the bucketful.  We were soaked – as they say – to the skin.  There was no escape, there was not dry shelter to be found.  The water covered us, and we have never been that wet. 

For me, that is what is means when the author of the passage says, “The Spirit is poured out on us richly through Jesus.  As we read these words on Christmas day, imagine that grace falls like that downpour upon us.  Drenching our lives.  Covering us completely.  The spirit pouring on us.   This is grace, abundant and overflowing.  Covering us not because of anything we have done or not done, and not because of anything we have earned.  Grace covers us not because of who we are, but because of the mercy of God.  

Christ has come.  Now what? We are covered in grace so that we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.  Open your hands and feel the hope land gently upon them.  Open your hearts, and know that hope recreates you.  Open your eyes and see the difference hope makes in your life.  

And then, because it’s Christmas, give it all away.  

An Extraordinary Moment

In Frederick Buechner's book, Beyond Words, as he describes Advent, he first uses three illustrations:

1. Imagine the moment before the conductor begins directing the orchestra - every instrument tuned and ready, the baton in the air. The room is silent in anticipation of the first note. 
2. Imagine midwinter dusk, and the anticipatory silence of the world. 
3. Imagine walking up to a front door and catching a whiff in the air of what is inside - maybe a crock pot cooking a roast, or a cake baking - but the only clue you have is the fragrance of anticipation.

Those moments are like Advent. Buechner writes, "The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is matched only by the extraordinary moment just before it happens. Advent is the name of that moment.” 

Today is Christmas Eve. It is the extraordinary moment just before Christmas happens. It is as if the world is holding its breath in anticipation. In the rush of preparation, if we will be still and quiet, for just a moment, we can sense it. We can hear the wind blowing through the trees, whispering the coming of Christ. We can almost detect the coming of the ringing of church bells. In the glistening of the Christmas lights, we be feel the soft heat of the love of Christ, coming into the world. 

This evening, before you go to bed, take a moment to be still, and to anticipate. Christmas is coming. It is an extraordinary moment.              

Wandering Wise Men

In our office are three wise men who wander the hallway from the time we start Christmas decorations until Epiphany.  I've posted about them before. They were a gift from Rev. Monty Brown when he retired from active service as a minister.  When he had them, they wandered the hallway at St. Marks until Epiphany, when they gathered around the Christmas tree outside his office. 

Their path through our hallway is sometimes arduous.  Sometimes they go off the path and get lost in someone's office for the day.  The day before we left for the Christmas holiday, they ended up on a conference room table (gathered there to prevent the cleaning staff from bumping them with a vacuum cleaner).

I like the wise men.  They teach me something every year.

1. Discipleship requires patience.  They don't end up at the tree right away.  It takes weeks for their travel. And it's not very far.
2. Discipleship doesn't always follow a straight path.  Sometimes there are interruptions or mistakes, but we keep moving anyway.
3. Discipleship isn't without danger.  One of the wise men looses his head (literally) every time he moves.  Poor thing. 
4. Discipleship can begin as a gift from someone else.  Who can you help on the way today with your gift of love and grace?

When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was.  When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy.  Matthew 2:9-10

 

I Have Heard you Calling in the Night, Part 1

January. It’s that time of year when we may or may not make resolutions. It’s the time of year when we pack away the Christmas decorations. It’s that time of year when I’m glad we use an artificial tree, and I feel sorry for those of you who have to dispose of the real ones. The last time Steve and I did that, we suffered through the whole process, getting jabbed over and over by dry needles – the same dry needles that then fell to the floor to bury themselves in the carpet.

Anyway, it’s the time of year when we pack away the stockings and the nativity scenes.  Except in our house. In our house, we keep the nativity scenes up all year round.  And we collect them, so there is an entire bookcase in our house devoted to nativity scenes. Big ones and very tiny ones. One of them is from my childhood, and I remember it always being under the Christmas tree. I would play with it, moving the pieces around. The characters are a little damaged, and when you look at them, you can see some attempts at repair, but the set reminds me that our faith should be accessible to all of us, including our children. It reminds me that my faith has been a part of me since I was a child. Another set is from Guatemala, and it reminds me that Christ is bigger than we can imagine – Christ is not a gift we can keep to ourselves, but must share with the world, and Christ is a gift that the world shares with us. One set is made of rock, and it reminds me that God is older than I can ever understand. One set is just of Joseph and a pregnant Mary as they make their way to Bethlehem. The two pieces are made so that Joseph interlocks behind Mary, sheltering her, and it reminds me of Joseph, and the role he played in the nativity scene.

These sets are beautiful – some to look at, but all are beautiful in the language they speak to me, reminding me of our faith, and what it means. Even so, they are not complete – they do not tell the whole story. And sometimes, in their beauty, we miss what might be the most important parts of the story of the incarnation of Christ.

Hear these words from the book of Matthew, chapter 2, verses 13-23:

Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, “Out of Egypt I have called my 

When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah:
“A voice was heard in Ramah,
    wailing and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
    she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”

When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said,  “Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, “He will be called a Nazorean.”

The word of God, for us, the people of God.  Thanks be to God.

Job Description for a Mother

Imagine for a moment that it was your job to find the mother of Jesus. I don't mean to go on a hunt for Mary, but I mean, what if you were the one God chose to find the woman who would carry and raise the Christ. What would be on your list? What would you look for in the mother-to-be?

Would she be learned? Old enough to know the ways of the world? Married to a "nice, traditional Jewish man?" Would she be in a family that had enough money to provide a "good home?" Perhaps it would be helpful if she read and spoke Hebrew so that she could help with understanding the Torah? In all serious job searches, we want to find someone with experience, so even if she wouldn't have raised a Messiah before, maybe it would be helpful for her to have had other children first, so that she wouldn't be a "rookie" parent. Maybe a priest's wife, so that her husband could show the son the ropes of the faith. All of that, plus be kind, gentle, but firm?

Maybe she would be the perfect Proverbs 31 mother, owning land, knitting clothes, dyeing wool, keeping her family warm and her husband proud of her?

And who does God choose? Mary. A young teenager in a no-where town, who was unmarried, and not at all experienced. Why choose her?

Mary was full of grace.  What does that mean? I think it means that God had gifted her with the ability to love others. To see the poor and alone and to have a heart for them, the way God does. To be full of grace would mean that she could forgive the child when he stays behind in Jerusalem to teach in the temple. To be full of grace might mean that she could survive when he leaves her to go and preach on the mountains and in the valleys among those who would not be welcomed in most homes. Maybe to be full of grace would mean that she would have enough faith to live through her son's death, even as she had to watch it happen.

Perhaps God chooses better than we ever could.

Unlike Anything she had Seen Before

The smell of the city was indescribable
And it was nothing like home.
The crowds, the sounds, the noise,
Was foreign.
The pain in her back
As she rode the donkey
Could be ignored
If she concentrated on the people around her.
It was unlike anything she had seen before.

When Joseph had told her
That they had to go to his hometown,
She thought Bethlehem would be interesting.
She wanted to know more about the man
Who would be her husband.
She never considered that the journey
Would take her through Jerusalem.
She was looking everywhere,
Afraid.
She hoped that they would leave soon.
It was unlike anything
She had ever seen before.

She ran a hand over her swollen belly,
Ignoring the rough feel of the cloth
To marvel at the push of the tiny feet
Against her skin.
Still amazed that there was life growing inside of her.
Still shocked that she had been chosen
By God.
To carry this child.
To be mother to the incarnate God.
It was unlike anything
She had ever imagined before.
It was all so very much unlike
Anything.

She remembered the stories
Her parents had told her as she was growing up.
Stories of Solomon and his palace.
Stories of Kind David.
And she looked around,
Wondering if she would see
Where these wonderful places
Had been.
Wondering if she would pass the temple.
The holy place of God.

Where would this trip take her?
What would it mean to her life
That she had said yes to God’s angel?
What would it be like to give birth
To a baby?
To this baby?
To be a wife?
To be a mother?
To raise the man who would be greater
Than King David?
It was unimaginable.
It was unlike anything
She had ever seen before.

The Shepherds Responses.

In Sunday school a few weeks ago, I taught a lesson based on Luke 2:8-20.  This is the passage that describes the angel appearing to the shepherds and the shepherds response.  The material talked about three responses the shepherds made:

1. Fear – verse 9:  Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shown around them, and they were terrified.  Why were they afraid?  No doubt that an angel appearing would be frightening, but what else? We often talk about the fear of God; what does that mean? The material talked about thinking of the word "fear" as reverence.  We should have a reverence for God.  That response isn't fear in the normal way we think of the word. A couple of questions to consider:  First, how can fear separate us from God?  Secondly, how can we increase our sense of awe in life?  How would that change your approach to each day and each interaction with the world and the persons around you?
2. Joyful honor – the author of the student book asks us to imagine what it must have been like to be sent from God to bring the news of the incarnation of Jesus.  We have the joyful honor of bringing God’s light to the world.  Have you ever experienced that?  Have you ever met someone who walks into a room and brings with them light?  They demonstrate what the author calls “angel joy” – the honor of bringing Good News.  Question:  Who do you know who possesses that lightness of spirit and sense of honor in bringing joy?  Have you told them that about themselves?  How can we do this more?  
3. Grateful response – verse 20 – The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.  Is it difficult to share the good news of the joy and wonder of Jesus birth with others?  Why is that?  How can we share this good news?  What can we do this week to make sure this glorious message is shared?  It is a joy, not a burden – how can we make it so?

Hope was Born

In a noisy cave
in the heat of the night
amid worry and grime,
crowds and farm animals,
Hope was born into the world.

After accusations of unfaithfulness,
Following the threat of death by stoning,
At the end of a long journey
forced by a foreign government
Hope was born into the world.

To parents who did not expect
that their lives would be turned upside down.
To a world that ached with readiness
but was completely unprepared,
Hope was born into the world.

Shepherds, shunned by the world,
an unchosen people,
were illuminated by heaven’s light
as angels announced that
Hope was born into the world.

Creation opened its weary arms,
The earth groaned in relief,
and a few recognized the joy that
Hope was born into the world.

Into the sweltering night,
under the light of a star,
God worked to do
what couldn’t have been imagined.
Hope was born in to the world.

And our world has never been the same.

Christmas Meals

Another Christmas tradition is our Christmas Eve meal.

When I was growing up, I remember my mom preparing a Christmas Eve dinner (usually ham).  My grandparents and my aunt's family would come to our house, and we would eat in the family room on card tables.  The next day, Mom would fix another big dinner (usually turkey (and leftover ham)).  This dinner would be the two of us and my grandparents.  I loved it, but I know it was a huge amount of work for Mom.

In Steve's family, there was one large Christmas dinner, and it was on Christmas Eve at his grandparents' house (turkey with salt-rising bread stuffing).  On Christmas day, his family and his aunt's family would get together at his house for a casual evening together.

Our own traditions have morphed from those two, I think.  We have one Christmas meal, and we have it on Christmas Eve at our house.  My mom, Steve's dad, our boys, and we gather for a large evening meal (menu varies).  Late that night we go to Church for the candle lighting service - it lasts until midnight.  The only meal we prepare on Christmas Day is breakfast, and it's easy.  Mom comes over, and she and our family share breakfast and enjoy the morning together opening gifts.  If I cook any more that day, it is only a pan of brownies to take with us later that day to my brother-in-law's home.  The casual evening that Steve and his brother remember is now done at their home with bowls of chili and hotdogs.

Christmas Day is family and relaxing, and might even include a nap.

Office / Lab Tree

Do you have traditions in your Christmas celebration?  I imagine so - I know we do.  I thought I

would take a few posts in December to talk about particular traditions of mine and my families.  I'm doing this to keep in mind that traditions are a two-edged sword.  They can bring back memories - thoughts of family and friends - the joy of past celebrations.  They can also hinder us from change, so we need to be careful with them, and use them wisely.

First off, the tradition of my office Christmas tree.  (pictured in this post).

This tradition began when I was working in the endocrinology research lab with Mary Beth.  We put up a tree - a smaller one than this one - and decorated it with tiny ornaments, and a few lab supplies, I think (like a few pipet tips, maybe?).  We put it up each year, and then when Mary Beth moved to clinical research, I continued with the tree.  I moved the tree to our new lab in the new building, and then when I left research and came to the Foundation, the tree came with me.

It's not the same tree we first put up in the lab - that was over 25 years ago.  This one is bigger and somewhere along the line, I added lights.  (Lights are my favorite part of the tree).  Each year I add a few ornaments, and when I started working for the Church, some of the ornaments I added were words of faith, and nativities.  When I worked in the lab, there were people of many faiths, and I wanted my actions as a Christian to speak louder than the ornaments on a tree, so I kept the ornaments more secular - like Santa and the very appropriate mice.

This year when I put up the tree, as I hung up a small angel, I remembered that she had been on the original tree.  I thought about Mary Beth (Hi!) and our friendship.  As I hung up the little wooden nativity, I gave thanks for where I work now, and the opportunities that have come my way.  When I hung up the words joy, peace and hope, I remembered why I was putting up the tree.  And when I turned on the lights, I smiled, because that's my favorite part.

The Darkness

I read a portion of Adam Hamilton's book, Not a Silent Night, this morning.  The book is written to lead the reader through looking at the life of Christ through the eyes of Mary.  The chapter I'm reading right now is about the crucifixion - what would have been Mary's thoughts?

What caught my eye today is the connection between Christmas and crucifixion.  Adam writes that the first ornament his family hangs on their Christmas tree is a replica of a Roman spike that would have been used in a crucifixion.  They hang it close to the trunk of the tree; they know it is there, although visitors wouldn't notice it.

I wonder how it changes his family's experience of Christmas to have a spike hanging in their tree? How would it change yours and mine to remember the sacrifice and love offered by Christ?  Could being reminded of the "end of the story" be a way to step back from the gift giving and santas for even just a moment?

Christmas is joy and beauty, lights in the darkness and love on the air.  We don't really want it tainted by the sorrow and grief of Good Friday, do we?

I make cards, and one of the tricks in the art of card making is to include the shadows in the coloring, and to use a fine line black pen to darken the outlines.  These tricks make the colors pop and bring the art to life, instead of leaving it one dimensional.  Could the same idea be applied in this case?  Does remembering the grief and sorrow make the joy that much more purposeful, make the lights that much more brighter?  And does it clear away the clutter of the holiday so that we can see the Christ?

Am I Ready?

This is the handmade nativity scene that graces the altar of my church each Advent and Christmas season.  See how classical the arrangement is? One year, I was working with the Chairperson of Worship, and we decided to take a different approach.  During Advent, only Joseph and Mary were on the altar.  On Christmas Eve, the baby appeared, and the wise men held off until Epiphany. We've never repeated that arrangement, and I'm sorry we don't.  I liked the symbolism of it.

Instead, we want the tableau perfectly in place, without waiting for it.

So many times during December, I was asked, "Are you ready for Christmas?"  I know it is a question to fill time -- small talk -- but I don't like it.  Am I ready for Christmas?  If you mean are all of the presents purchased, the meal planned, wrapping done, house clean, then the answer will be no.

I usually (and this year was no exception) come home from the Christmas Eve service (which ends at midnight) and wrap.  I wouldn't mind doing this earlier, but wrapping requires camping out with all of the supplies and taking over the family room.  I can't wrap as I go, or we would be overwhelmed with bags and paper, all December long.  Wrapping has to wait its turn.

So it is with Christmas.  Was I ready for it to come?  If you mean spiritually, then the answer is no. Who is ever ready for the coming of Christ?  It's a process, and every part has to take its turn. God and I are working on it -- that's sanctification.  It is finished?  No.  And by grace, God hasn't given up yet.

Am I ready?  No, but we're working on it.

A Christmas Card

Merry Christmas to you, 

your family and friends.

I appreciate all of you

and pray for God's blessings of grace
on your lives.

Thank you for the moments you spend 

reading my thoughts; 

I hope God works through them somehow 

so that in the space between what I write 

and what you read, 

he is at work, 

revealing himself to you.

In the coming year, 

I pray we all grow in grace
and move closer to God.

Christmas Eve Devotional

Luke 22:50-51:  Then one of them struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear.  But

Jesus said, ‘No more of this!’ And he touched his ear and healed him.  

On Christmas Eve, we close our eyes, and we can imagine what it would have been like to have been standing in a stable, in a dark corner, watching as Mary held her newborn son.  Perhaps Joseph kneels near them, held speechless in the amazement that parents feel when a child arrives. We can imagine the love shared between the three of them, and it surrounds us, filling us with joy. As we watch, we are humbled by the realization that God has come into the world because of that love.  What have we done to earn this love?  It is no wonder that grace is described as amazing.

Then we read the words of Luke 22:50-51.  Even in the moment of betrayal, the love expressed in a stable is made evident.   In the slice of the sword, can we hear the echo of the weapons used to kill the young infant sons in the time of Jesus’ birth?  In Jesus’ gentle touch to restore the slave, can we feel the brush of a father’s hand against his son’s newborn cheek?  In the power of healing, can we remember Jesus love made manifest in his incarnation?   Jesus not only loves us, but he also models for us what love is, and how love acts.

Our world is not a quiet stable.  It is more like the world of the garden, when betrayal and fear threatened to overcome love.  What is our response in a world such as this?  Will we respond to hatred with hatred?  Violence with violence?  Or will we offer what has been offered to us?  Will we offer what Jesus offered to the slave of the high priest?  When we respond with healing – the love of Christ – all of us are made whole.  Consider today who in your life needs the healing touch of Christ through you.

Prayer:  Creating God, we thank you that you give us grace enough to love each other.  Amen.

St. Nicholas, Part 2

To continue the discussion from yesterday about St. Nicholas...  First, I found this painting, which I share today instead of an image.

To learn more about the painting, click this link. 

The artist is Gentile da Fabriano, and the painting is the Dowry of Three Virgins. Remember the story from yesterday?  This is his artistic interpretation of the story, painted about 1425.

Continuing my thoughts about St. Nicholas....

Did you know circumstances suggest that he was one of those present at the Council of Nicea, and perhaps one of the the signers of the Nicene Creed (per Hobbs)?  This statement of doctrine has shaped the faith of billions of people over the years.  Through the work that was done to shape this Statement of Faith, we have come to understand the idea of the Trinity.

I love the idea that Bishop Nicholas of Myra, said, in effect, "This is what I believe.  Here is my faith."

Then, he took his beliefs and lived them out in generosity.  What he believed about Christ shaped how he lived his life.  We should follow that example.

St. Nicholas, Part 1

December 6 was St. Nicholas Day.  Do you know much about St. Nicholas?  I don't.  My assumption is that he is one of the inspirations for Santa Claus.  The devotional book I'm reading during Advent, "Lighten the Darkness" by Dena Douglas Hobbs, talked about St. Nicholas on December 6.

He is known for his generosity.  The most famous story about him is that he supplied dowry money for three daughters in a family where there was no money for dowries. Without dowries, the women couldn't get married, and would have no real life.  Depending on the story you read, Nicholas threw money over a fence, or down the chimney, or even into the girls' stockings so that they could start their lives.  Light, in darkness, supplied through generosity.

Light - that's why people put oranges in stockings.  They represented balls of light.

Anyway, think of Nicholas giving money to this family.  He redeemed the daughters from what would have been lives of poverty or prostitution, for in that society, that would have been all that would be open to them.  Through his generosity, he gave gifts of grace that let them live a redeemed life.  Christ does the same for us.

Lost Jesus

I was in a church meeting yesterday.  Several of the people in the meeting were discussing the nativity scenes in their homes or at the church. I heard more than once that the baby from the nativity was missing.  In one case, the woman's young daughter had taken it to play with, thinking it was a doll.  In another household, the missing Jesus had been replaced with a snow baby.  In one case, someone was piling hay around the manger to keep the baby warm (that one must have been outside - at least, I hope so).

As I was listening, I was thinking -- surely in this there is a blog post!  We talk a lot about missing out on Christmas because we miss its purpose.  Jesus is missing from our own nativity scenes. Beyond that, though, I was interested in the rest of it.  Do we substitute something else to replace Jesus?  Like the snow baby?  Does it work?  Do we sometimes take Jesus out and play with him, like a toy?  Are we so busy piling up the hay that we fail to even see Jesus?

So what do we do?  What is the solution?  I think it's something beyond being less busy and turning on the Christmas carols.  What is Christ calling us to do that we are just playing at, or ignoring or substituting with something else?