It Started With a Lion: The Real Christmas Tree

It Started With a Lion: The Real Christmas Tree: “Well, that’s different.” I thought to myself as I drove by the large cross stuck in the front lawn.   “Wait!   Is that blood?”   By the tim...

Behold the Nativity

Carl, my potentially apostate budgie, deconstructing the nativity.

The sound was peculiar, a faint tapping followed by a click.  Too quiet to be a child, I immediately suspected Carl our budgie, of a new form of misbehavior.  I was resting peacefully in that strange world between sleep and consciousness when I suddenly wondered what the little beast was up too.  Carl wasn’t allowed out of her cage without a family member present.  A survey of the soundscape indicated no child in the vicinity.  Willing myself to open my eyes was unsuccessful and I drifted back to sleep.  

When I awoke the second time, I again heard a faint tapping noise.  This time, it was more repetitive and rhythmic.  I opened my eyes as the realization swept over me:  I had fallen asleep on the couch while Carl was out of her cage.  Sitting up quickly, I looked around and concentrated on the noise.  A first glance there was nothing amiss.  When suddenly a budgie hopped through my peripheral vision.   Thanking the Lord she wasn’t hurt, I squinted through sleep to understand what I was seeing. 

The on the mantel piece stood Carl happily gazing at the nativity.  This nativity consisted of a small wooden stable with little nails, upon which a different character was hung for each day of advent.  Aww.  I remember thinking to myself.  Carl is admiring the pretty lights.  What a happy Christmas bird.  At that moment, I was struck by the sweetness of the scene.  “You are a good bird, aren’t you Carl?”  In response, Carl chirped happily and tapped at one of the wise men with her break.  I leaned back on the couch content.  Sleep was still thick in my vision, and perhaps it was a remnant sugar plum fairy that caused me to think such insipid thoughts.  I sighed happily and wrapped my blanket around me.

“Carl?” I sang. “Chirp!” Carl replied.  “Are you a good bird?”  I’m not sure what I was expecting Carl to say, but I certainly wasn’t expecting her to grab the closest wise man by the head and fling him off the mantel piece.  The sound I made in response was somewhat indescribable.  Sensing her freedom was coming to an end, Carl grabbed a sheep off the nativity, dropped it and then pitched a stargazing shepherd after the wise man.  I sat back in astonishment before laughing hysterically.  From time to time I had suspected my bird was unredeemed but this seemed a bit extreme, even for her.  Yet take apart the nativity she did, that day and every other she could manage.  It became an unorthodox family tradition. This year, when we unpacked the nativity, my heart ached.  Our little feathered slice of creation died this spring and I miss her.   

In my part of the world, Christmas has become a slick commercial affair.  There are events to attend, sights to see and trinkets to buy all of which can enhance or diminish the message of the season.  That is, presuming you are familiar with the message of Christmas.   

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:5  

Our world is fallen.  That is an important piece of the Christmas message.   I can’t explain many things that are happening on our planet right now.  But it seems to me, many are waking up to the realization that the world can be a dark place.   Some are offended by the realization, many are saddened.  This is where commercial Christmas can’t help.  The lights that are strung on streets and houses do nothing to enlighten a bereaved heart.  Those who are experiencing profound loss and pain can’t be bought off by trinkets, at least not for long.  So the message for Christmas becomes all the more important.  The good news is that God didn’t leave us without hope.  The world was in darkness, but God sent a light.  

and behold, a voice out of the heavens said, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased. Matt 3:17

The second part of the Christmas message is that God sent his son.  If you say this, it can make people really cross.  It isn’t surprising, people have been trying to separate the Father from the Son for a long time now.  However, Jesus went through a great deal to wear the title “Son of God,” and for the broken and sinful it is a fabulous name.  It is a name that heaven hears.  

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be.  But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God.  You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.” John 1: 29-33

This part of the Christmas message is sticky because it involves God’s kingdom and parts of God’s kingdom we can experience now and the parts we can’t tend to make us angry.  In my crisis moments, I could not have survived without help – Christian help.  Those who were devoted to Jesus who took up my needs as their own and offered me hope when everything around me, including my faith, was failing.  They brought kingdom hope to my grieving heart.  

But there are things that no Christian can provide.  Things we will experience in the future when creation is rolled up and we meet God face to face.  Justice for egregious wrongs, understanding, and lasting peace have not yet been attained. They are promised yet we must discipline ourselves as Jesus folk not to become discouraged because they have not yet arrived.  

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Look! God's dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death' or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Rev 21:3-4

Christmas here and now, with its tinsel, lights and carols cannot come close to fulfilling the above scripture.   If I attempt to obtain joy from the trimmings of Christmas I will come away unfulfilled.  But if I can remember Christmas points back to his first coming and forward to his second true joy can appear.  If I, unlike my sweet bird, can keep the nativity in sight, intact and in focus I will be ready for Christmas and His appearing.

I’m praying for you this week,

xoxKaren

PS:  Clearly the most important kingdom gift God bestows is that of immediate forgiveness.  It is central to the Christian faith.   However, I can’t figure out how to say that in this message gracefully.  I’ve tried cutting and pasting it in several places, but it isn’t working.

It seems odd to place a central tenant of our faith in a footnote, but I’m not thinking clearly.  My furnace broke this Monday and I’m living in my basement in a make shift blanket fort.  No kidding.   My house is as cold as my refrigerator, with the exception of one room in the basement.  We have been holed up in here with three space heaters, while they work on getting me a new one.  All this while the polar vortex consumed Seattle along with 123 snowflakes.  It’s rough.  Pretty sure I heard the snowflakes screaming as they fell.  

Not going to lie, I’m wishing hibernation were an option.  

Sock it to me Jesus

They were working fine....

Friend!

Has it been a good week?  I was thinking about you last night as I decorated our Christmas tree.  We were a tad late in purchasing one this year but it is very nice to have a Christmas tree in the house again.  

We pulled the decorations out of the garage and set to work.  Each year I am faced with a mystery.  In January, when the tree is taken down, I check the light strands, coil them and place them gingerly in a plastic bin.  The mysterious part is why these lights never work when I take them out of the bin 11 months later.  I simply don’t understand.  Sure enough, two strands of last years lights no longer worked.  I didn't  touch them so how did they break?  To make things even more perplexing, only ½ of a carefully stored snowflake light strand was working.  The first half lit up, the second half refused to come out of hibernation. Why? What am I doing wrong? 

When I voice my amazement at the darker side of Christmas light storage, my man gives me a lecture about how the lights are not made to last, poor quality…ya da ya da…. only three dollars…ya ya ya.  He feels it is his annual duty to deal with my vexation. I’ve heard it all before but it still makes me cross. 

Worse yet, I can't throw out an almost functional set of Christmas lights! It’s so wasteful I can’t stand it.  I think about the reams of lights in landfills, sitting there, not decomposing.  I worry dreadfully that some duck named Bernice is going to happen across my Christmas lights from 2001 and get them stuck around her feet.  Granted, for the first few days she might view them as an upscale ankle bracelet, but what happens when Bernice needs to fly somewhere and is entangled in my lights from Christmas past?  It haunts me.  

So much so, that a few years ago, instead of throwing out a broken strand of lights like my hubby told me too, I hid in the garage and chopped the entire green strand into two inch pieces. For nearly 6 months my family had indestructible twist ties on their bag lunches.  They couldn’t figure out where I had purchased such satanic home supplies. I couldn’t tell them.  My guy doesn’t need to know everything about the woman he married.  Sometimes, you need to cope alone.

It was a blessing therefore, to hand off the Christmas lights to my teens, effectively removing myself from my annual Christmas light angst.*   I sat on the sofa watching the girls work until my little one handed me one of my Christmas treasures.  Most families in my world have a favorite nativity.  A couple of my friends even collect them, which is an admirable if not space consuming endeavor.  Carved olive wood from Jerusalem, stone pieces from Bethlehem, treasures handed down from Grandma, these nativity pieces are steeped in symbolism and meaning.  A cultural cornucopia of Christian Christmas symbolism. 

The Jesus from my nativity….not so much.

Behold, sock Jesus

Yep.  That’s a sock Jesus. In case you were wondering.  

This masterpiece was brought home by a 3 year old, who placed it gently under my Christmas tree.  I will save the story for another day.  All you need to know is that I madly love this sock Jesus.

Last week I confessed I often want a Santa Jesus.  I thought this week we could talk about sock Jesus because He is in high demand these days.  Sock Jesus is an easy going fellow who smiles sweetly at most things - well, everything really.  As long as you are happy and I am happy, sock Jesus has nothing much to say.  Sin becomes irrelevant which is too bad because the fact He condescended to enter this mess is significant.  However, sock Jesus doesn’t worry much about sin because he’s too busy being happy with everyone for everything. 

Truth isn’t important to sock Jesus either.  As long as we agree to get along, truth isn’t needed.  You can tweet what you like and make up your own reality as you go.  Sock Jesus doesn’t tweet because of the whole lack of arms thing, but if he did he would mostly tweet pictures of craft projects.  Sock Jesus doesn't challenge you like your  friends who speak the truth in hard times, love you in the pit and hold you accountable.  Friends like that don’t smile like He does, they’re too busy trying to enforce some warped form of altruistic legalism on a grace filled world.  

All in all, sock Jesus is pretty great, unless you find yourself in a world where souls break, people hurt and life goes wrong.  When that happens all sock Jesus can do is cover up stinky things, like funny looking feet.  You need Emmanuel when life gets hard.  “God with us” is the way to get through when you unpack some broken items in your Christmas box.    

So I’m praying for any broken things you might encounter this month my friend. That as you seek to accommodate a less than perfect Christmas, you will experience the real Jesus.  The one who can forgive you in your sinfulness, comfort you in your pain and bring you joy despite your sorrow.  

I’m thinking of you this week,

xoxKaren

* Totally untrue, I’ve hidden the broken lights so they can’t be thrown out. I’m trying to figure out what to do with 60 plastic snowflake light covers.