Pondering the Incarnate

What's up with this photo?

     This Christmas season, my two year-old Thomas has been asking me all kinds of deep, philosophical questions about Christ Incarnate.

     Like, Did Jesus have a pee-pee?

     Now, I’m used to my kids attacking me with inquiries from way out in left field (and sometimes from way out in the bleachers as well). And I know it’s perfectly natural for a little boy to wonder about the anatomy of the Christ Child, who was in fact another little boy. But there are some questions that just don’t seem very reverent to ask about Mary’s perfect, sinless child.

     I hardly wondered about Baby Jesus when I was younger. I knew Who He was, I knew Where He had come from, and I knew why He had come. What was left to ponder?

     Then I had sons of my own and started to imagine what it would be like to have a child who was truly perfect. Jesus the Baby had no sin nature whatsoever. Does that mean the carol is right after all, and Mary and Joseph looked at each other a few days after Jesus’ birth and remarked, “Wow, what a great baby! No crying He makes!”?

     Jesus was perfectly sinless, but He was also flesh and blood. So did Jesus spit up on Jospeh? Did He give Mary a little morning shower when she went to see if His swaddling cloth was dry? Did He get colic and keep His parents up all night with His shrieking?

     What about His circumcision? Did Jesus scream His head off in pain and anger? Did He spend the next few days fussier than normal? And what about nursing? Did Jesus cry whenever He got hungry, even though as God He must have known Mary was busy at times and couldn’t tend to Him right away? Did His cries get louder and louder the longer Mary tarried, as if it were possible for God in the flesh to demonstrate impatience? If Mary’s ducts got clogged, did Jesus heal them immediately with a thought, or did He just holler because He was hungry and wasn't getting what He wanted?

     And what about His life as a toddler? Did Jesus cry when He scraped His knee? If Joseph tried to comfort Him, did Jesus pout and demand Mommy instead? Could the just and perfect Divine have had a favored parent?

     Did the Christ Toddler get scared? Did He cry during storms? Did He cling to His mother's skirts whenever Mary tried to leave Him for a few hours with friends or relatives so she could go shopping at the market or fix Joseph up a nice dinner without the "help" of an active two year-old?

     Jesus was sinless, but He was born into a weak body. Did He get sick just as often as the other children in Nazareth? Or was His body naturally stronger because it was free from sin and its consequences? Did Jesus have many friends as He grew up? Did He play with his neighbors? Could He read their thoughts, know their fears, sense their insecurities? Did children like Him? Did Mary stay up late at night wondering if Her Son "fit in" with the Nazareth crowd?

     The mother in me would like answers to these mysteries, and more. But my pedantic side assures me that if God wanted us to know all these details, He would have included them in the Scriptures. Maybe when I get to heaven I'll ask Mary to join me for a cup of hot chocolate and whipped cream and ask her some of these questions myself. 

     Then again, maybe I'll just sit back in silent awe, try once again to grasp the enormity of Christ Incarnate, and do my best to meditate on the one Mary called "Immanuel —which means God With Us" (Matthew 1:23).

What about you? If you could ask God - or His mother - one question about Jesus as a youngster, what would it be? (Feel free to leave your comment below.)

He Stepped Down Into Darkness

What's up with this photo?

     As a culture, we are addicted to Christmas lights. We put them on our trees, on our houses, on our windows ... some of us go so far as to put them on our earrings and  brooches! We give and receive scented Christmas candles with labels like Arctic Pine and Mrs. Claus Cookie Dough. We attend candlelit services on Christmas Eve and hope our toddlers don't burn down the sanctuary curtains ... again.

     I love Christmas lights too ... except when they tangle, break, and jack up my electricity bill every December. Truthfully though, I love just everything about Christmas. It's all so feel-good, what's not to love? For the average American Christian to say she doesn't like Christmas would be like the average American turkey saying he doesn't like vegetarians.

     Even for those of us who not only love Christmas for the flashing lights and free gift wrapping at the mall, but for its spiritual significance, it's still hard to keep from getting distracted by all the neon lights and general hype. How many of us, like Snoopy in A Charlie Brown Christmas, "go commercial" once Black Friday announcements start arriving in our mailboxes (and inboxes, and Facebook newsfeeds, and Twitter accounts, etc)? We waste our time - and money - at the toy store and body shop, not to mention the post office, and feel pangs of guilt because we know we should also be preparing our heart for worship, meditating on the inconceivable concept of Christ Incarnate.

     How do we keep from pulling a Snoopy and going completely commercial? Advent devotions don't come with a guarantee ("If you read one devotion a day, you will not go into debt this holiday season, you will get all your shopping done with a cheerful and peaceful attitude, and you will refrain from decking the man who tries to cut in front of you in the USPS line") but at least they help you spend a few minutes each day focusing on the real reason for this joyous time of Christmas.

     Well, we started our advent devotions this morning (a day late, but don't tell the neighbors). And I came to a striking conclusion: No matter what advent devotional you use, no matter how many different advent books you buy and go through over the years, no matter how hard you try to "spice it up" and add variety to your family's advent experience, the first day of advent will always include a Scripture reading from Isaiah. I find this only slightly ironic considering the fact that Isaiah lived hundreds of years before the angels appeared to the shepherds with the urge to "go tell it on the mountain."

     This morning while eating stale leftover cereal (I'm trying to make room in the cupboards for all our extra Christmas cookie ingredients) the boys and I read Isaiah 9:2. "The people walking in darkness have seen a great light." Again with the lights theme. You'd almost think Isaiah was getting some kickbacks from Walmart's home decorating department, wouldn't you?

     If you're like me, you've probably heard this verse in regards to advent a few dozen times. Unfortunately, we're so obsessed with Christmas lights that we try to forget about the darkness that consumed the world at the time of Christ's birth.

     Do you have a nativity scene? So do we. But it certainly doesn't include the soldiers who slaughtered all the boy babies of Bethlehem. It doesn't have the crucifixes in the background where Romans tortured Jews by the hundreds - those who were guilty as well as those who were innocent. 

     Christmas is a beloved holiday, and rightly so. Believers and unbelievers alike adore Christmas because it makes us feel so darn good. We light up our trees (and our garage doors, and our window sills, and our roofs, and yes, even our brooches) and we sit down and watch George Bailey promise Mary the moon. Why? Because we all are living with the absolute certainty that Christmas is supposed to make us happy. (Case in point: Nobody has ever watched Schindler's List in order to get into the Christmas spirit, right?)

     Now don't get me wrong. I'm as much a sucker for the steroidal-sized endorphins running rampant this time of year as anyone else. Show me the Ghost of Christmas Present blessing the feast of even the humblest of London's poor, and I'll probably choke up. (I've even been known to cry listening to Junior Asparagus singing Christmas carols on our boys' VeggieTales album.) And, lest there are any thinker-judgers out there reading this article, crying because something sappy tugs at my heart actually means I'm quite happy, thank you very much.

      But with our addiction to feeling good at Christmastime, have we forgotten the truth of Isaiah 9:2? The people of Jesus' day were walking in the darkness of sin. They were oppressed by a horrific regime. They were in slavery - to their fears, to their sin, to their captors.

     Is that description jingling any bells in your head? 

     Jesus was born into a dark world. That's the whole point. So this advent season, as you plug in your flashing Christmas decorations and light up your gingerbread and allspice candles, don't forget that Jesus came for us, "a people walking in darkness" - the darkness of the world around as well as the darkness of our own personal sins.

     Are you walking in darkness or light? Are you crouching in secret, hoping no one will discover your guilt? Jesus said that "Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed" (John 3:20). Maybe this advent season is the time to confront that sin that's been holding you in bondage. "Bring it into the light" by confessing your struggle to someone you trust.

     Are you harboring hatred or forgiveness? John tells us that "Whoever loves his brother lives in the light, and there is nothing in him to make him stumble" (1 John 2:10). Are you living out this season in the light of love or towards darkness of unforgiveness? Are you ready this advent to let go of the pain and hurt of bitterness? Are you willing to extend grace to someone who has wronged you .... again?

     Are you a flaming light on a stand, or a flickering candle under a bowl? Jesus reminded his disciples that nobody lights a lamp just to cover it up. "Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light  everyone in the house" (Matthew 5:15). As Christians, we have been given the light of Jesus Himself. But are we letting it pierce the darkness around us? Who do you know this advent season who needs the peace Immanuel brings? Pray for opportunities to introduce those who are walking in darkness to the true Light of the World. 

     Are you broken over the darkness around us? This advent, while we spend money on fancy presents that our kids will play with for a day, a week, or a few months if we're lucky, there are parents worried for their children who have run away, who have been given devastating diagnoses, who have been shipped overseas to fight dangerous wars. While we fret over how much weight we'll gain this holiday season and go out and buy our turkeys and hams, there are literally millions of people starving in the world today. Some of them reside in our very own zip codes. Are we willing to mourn over our neighbors' misfortunes? Are we will to break the yokes of their oppression through prayer?

     Are we willing to weep this Christmas ... not when Clarence gets his wings, but when babies die in senseless wars, when children starve in horrific famines, when families suffer in ruthless regimes? To truly prepare our hearts to worship the Light of the World, we need to start by realizing just how deep the darkness here really penetrates.

     It's a darkness that will take much more than blinking brooches to overcome.

What about you? What advice can you give others who want to shine more brightly this advent season? What area will you be focusing on this advent to make the world a brighter place? (Feel free to leave your comment below.)