incarnation

There was once a young couple who was deeply in love and had decided to marry.  A few weeks after a beautiful wedding and an incredible honeymoon, they had settled in and begun the process of crafting their new life together.  It was everything they’d ever dreamed.  But before too long the new, young wife began experiencing a strange dizziness and a slurring of her speech.  It was soon discovered that she had a tumor in her brain that was growing daily and had to be removed.

The surgeon met often with the young couple over the next days and weeks, explaining in detail all the treatment options available; of which surgery would be by far the most beneficial.  He told them everything about what the surgery would involve, including both his highest hopes and the greatest risks of such a procedure--one of which could be partial paralysis of one side of her face due to the tumor’s proximity to a nerve that controlled many of her facial movements.  So in hopes of extending their days together as long as possible, they decided to go through with it.

The day of the surgery came, and the procedure was completed.  The young couple sat together in the recovery room anxiously awaiting word from the doctor as to the success of the operation.  The good news was that the tumor was removed and the prognosis for the future was very good.  The bad news was that, indeed, during the procedure—in order to get all of the tumor—a nerve  had been damaged that would forever alter the smile of this beautiful young woman. 

The young wife was so thankful for the success of the surgery, but inwardly devastated to learn that her face, from this day forward, would always be contorted; and that her beautiful smile would be permanently disfigured as a result.

The young husband was simply wonderful in his love for and affirmation of his new bride’s beauty as she dealt with the hard news.  “I think it looks cute,” he said, “I wouldn’t change a thing.”  And as tears streamed down both of their faces he leaned over to kiss his bride gently on her newly disfigured lips.  And as he did he twisted his own mouth to fit hers in order to show her that their kiss still worked.

Christmas is the season where we celebrate the incarnation--God taking on our distorted flesh...in Jesus.  God twists his own lips to match ours, in order to show us that our kiss still works.  O Come Let Us Adore Him!

room for christmas

While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. (Luke 2:6-7)

Room is a very important thing in the life of the Spirit.  As a matter of fact, new birth seems to require it.  Unfortunately, and ironically, during this season—just as in the time of Mary and Joseph—it is so easy for life just to fill up.  And when life is over-filled there is simply no room for something new (of the Spirit) to be born in us; the pace and demands of the season are at odds with the room and reflection necessary to pay attention to how, where, and when God might be entering our lives/world.

Maybe that’s why the words of the old Christmas carol remind us, “let every heart, prepare him room.”  It seems that the writers of those wonderful songs of old knew well the secret that unless we work diligently to make room for him, it will not simply happen on its own—it will not just “fall on our heads.”  Making room takes effort and intention and prayer and planning.  And unless we are willing and able to put forth the  energy and effort to pay attention, it is likely that when he does eventually come, we will miss him too.

joseph

Luke only mentions his name a couple of times; Mark and John not at all.  The little we do know of him comes from a few verses in Matthew—and that’s not a lot.  We know he cared enough for Mary that he wanted to protect her from the public scorn and disgrace that a young woman in her circumstances was destined for.  We know that he was a righteous man that believed what the angel of the Lord had spoken to him (in a dream; always in a dream) and thus was obedient in all that he was asked to do and to be.  We know that he led his family to Bethlehem for the census and was resourceful in providing a safe (yet humble) space for his young bride to give birth.  And we know that he protected his young family from danger when he fled with them in the middle of the night to Egypt to keep them safe from Herod’s wrath.  Caring, protective, righteous, believing, obedient, providing…a pretty good list of qualities to say the least.

And yet Joseph was never intended to be  a main character in the story, probably because, although his role was important, he realized that he was not the point—Jesus was.  It is as if he voluntarily stepped aside, into the background, in order for the main character to take center stage.  His role in this drama would be one of background rather than spotlight.  He was simply part of the supporting cast; somehow both recognizing and embracing this reality.  In fact, Joseph’s very best work—the nurture, care, and guidance of Jesus in his formative years—was done in virtual anonymity.  Not a word, other than the instance at the Temple when Jesus was twelve, was ever written about it.  He was a hidden and silent partner in the unfolding story of God’s life on earth.  For the most part he was unrecognized, unsung, and unnoticed—and it is simply beautiful.  It makes me want to be just like him; to realize that God is the point of the story, and therefore to embrace the covert and behind-the-scenes ways we are called to help “bring him into” this dark and broken world.   

john

There came a man who was sent from God; his name was John.  He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all men might believe.  He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.  The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world. (John 1:6-9)

It is such a temptation in this life to try and be something you’re not…at least it is for me anyway.  Somehow, thru the years, I have become convinced that who I really am is simply not enough.  So I subtly—and sometimes not so subtly—begin to seek people, and/or things, and/ or accomplishments that will make me feel like I have value and worth; make me feel like I am somebody.

Maybe that’s why I have been really drawn to the life of John the Baptist for the past few days.  He seems to get it.  He seems to realize that life is not about him.  He seems to clearly see his place in the larger story—and embrace it.  John is fully aware that he is not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.  He knew who he was and fully embraced his role; he didn’t succumb to the temptation to try and be someone or something that he was not.  He didn’t try to pretend that he was the light, but instead was wonderfully able to point people to the light, rather than to himself.  What a great example to follow.  John encourages me to be careful: to not block the light, to not get in the way of the light, to not dance around for attention in front of the light…to not try and be the light.  He reminds me that any light that is seen in me is only a reflection of the True Light, nothing that I—in and of myself—possess or produce...it is all Him.  So whenever people are drawn to that light in me, or in any of us, I/we must always point them quickly back to Jesus, lest they mistake this little reflection of the light in us for what it truly is--not us, but the True Light itself.

mary

The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you…Luke 1:35

What exactly happened in that moment?  That wonder-filled instant when the Holy Spirit came upon you; when the Most High overshadowed you?  What was it like?  I have to know!  Was it heavenly?  Was it more wonderful than anything you ever dreamed of, or dared to imagine?  God entered into you; he penetrated you to the core, more deeply than anyone ever thought possible.  God, the Most High, entered into you, and that entry created new life within.  He left something of his life-giving-self deep inside; something beautiful beyond imagination was conceived in you.  You are pregnant with God and have the unbelievable privilege of carrying him around inside of you; of nurturing his new life within you until time reaches its fullness and he is ready to come forth, to show himself, to be born into this world.  You, Mary, are the Holy Theotokos—the God-bearer, because God entered into you.  And because he entered into you, he can enter into us as well.  May we, too, be come upon.  May we, too, be overshadowed by the Most High.  May God enter into us, penetrate us to the core, and bring to life something of himself deep within our souls.  May we, too, be pregnant with God; and nurture and care for his new life within us until it is ready to be born into our lives…born into our world.

centered

Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?—every, every minute?

                                                              (from the play Our Town by Thornton Wilder)

What a question…a great, great question.  Do they?  Do we?  Do I?  It seems that if I did, it would make a world of difference in the way I went about living that life every day.  It would affect the who and the what and particularly the how of every single minute of every single day.  A few years ago I was sitting with a dear friend at my favorite table in my favorite restaurant and a similar question bubbled to the surface: “Are you living the life you want to live?”  Of course the question was not about winning the lottery or living in a house on the beach, but more about, “In the life and the place you have been given, are you living the quality of life that you really want to live?”  It is a question, not so much of circumstance, but of depth and quality, of priority and investment.  And as we sat with that question and considered it deeply another question followed on its heels…”If not, why not?”  Sometimes we live our lives feeling more like our lives are living us instead.  Feeling like our life and our world is filled with things we really have no choice about; running frantically and busily from one thing to the next, out of control.  I think that’s what Jesus was addressing at Martha’s house (Luke 10).  Martha was distracted.  The word for distracted, I am told, in this context can be more descriptively translated “to drag around.”  Martha was feeling drug around.  She had no choice…after all look at all that “has to be” done.  But Jesus always has a much different perspective, a different way of seeing and of being.   Look at what Jesus has to say to her: “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one.  Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:41).  It is almost as if Jesus is saying, “Martha, dear Martha, you are missing it.  Realize life while you are living it.  See what is truly primary and what is only secondary; what needs to be foreground and what has to be kept in the background; what is important versus what is merely urgent.  Do not center your life on circumstances, or on duty, or need, or reputation, or agenda…center your life on me.  Everything else, including the “to do list,” will take care of itself.  You are worried and upset about many things…why is that?  Come to me, the one needed thing—the best thing.  Be with me, sit at my feet, listen to my words, look into my eyes, and allow the rest of your life to be determined by that.” 

prayer

But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.  And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them… (Matthew 6:6-7)

I’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that there is much more to most things than meets the eye—prayer for instance.  For years I was under the impression that prayer consisted of closing your eyes, bowing your head, and talking to God.  The pictures and images of prayer that I carried around in my heart and mind, quite frankly, left much to be desired.  Prayer was not an activity I was particularly drawn to or excited about.  My guess is that this had much more to do with my definition of prayer than it did with the real practice of prayer.  It wasn’t until much later in life that I began to see that maybe my definition of prayer was far too small and rigid.  Prayer wasn’t so much about performing a duty as it was about building a wonderfully intimate relationship.  Prayer was not simply throwing all the words I can muster at the unseen God, but it—at its very core—has always been about union with the God who lives within us.  I think that’s what Jesus is really getting at in Matthew 6; he is trying to recapture the true meaning and practice of prayer, which is simply being with God.

Don’t stand on street corners, don’t babble on and on; prayer is much more intimate and personal than that.  Instead go into your closet—that space where true intimacy is possible—and shut the door.  Leave everyone and everything else on the outside; I want it to be just me and you.  I want us to be together in a way and a place where I have your undivided attention.  I have so much I want to say to you; so much of me that I want you to know.  And this space and time is the place where that is most possible; the place where I can have the deepest desires of my heart fulfilled, which is just to be with you, my Beloved.  Come inside where things are still and quiet and you can hear every whisper of my loving Spirit deep within your heart and soul.  That’s prayer.

"Here's what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place so you won't be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense his grace.” (Matthew 6:6 The Message)