A childlike faith

I have known the Christmas story for many years. When I was a child, probably around 7 or 8, I was chosen to play the part of Mary in a nativity play. I had a blue dress and wore a dish towel over my head - I think it was a dish towel, and I got to hold the baby Jesus and speak to an angel in a white bath robe with tinsel around his head. There were shepherds in their bath robes; one cried because he was pushed by the head shepherd and that was not the way we had rehearsed the play. I held hands with a boy named Joseph who was going to be my husband, and said my lines in the right order at the right time much to the relief of my mother. I sat down with a sheep and a goat and a camel (the stuffed toy kind not the bleating, smelly and real kind). I meekly bowed my head on cue and looked lovingly at the baby doll lying upon my crib which was surrounded by straw and softer things upon which to sit. There came wise men from the east, the other side of the church, bringing their shiny gifts and announced to all assembled that they had made the long journey because they had followed a star that gave light to all around. It was such a bright star that it must mean something special and they were star-studying experts. And so they followed the light and came down the green steps to visit me, Mary, and my husband, Joseph, and offer those gifts to my new born baby lying peacefully and gently in my doll's crib.

Many churches across denominations will re-enact this story in these December days. Every year we do this to remind ourselves and our fellow human beings that long time ago in Bethlehem, so the Holy Bible says, this really did happen. That indeed a shoot came up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch did appear. That the Spirit of the Lord rested on him, the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the Lord, and he delighted in the fear of the Lord. The Spirit of the Lord anointed Him to proclaim good news to the poor, sent to bind up the brokenhearted, proclaiming freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners. His name is Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of peace (Isaiah 11).

Whenever God's story is presented, no matter how we choose to do that, with children, or grown ups or a combination of both, God's truth is revealed. Perhaps we don't see a lot of peace or wisdom or understanding in our own lives and of those around us and we are mistakenly led to think therefore that the child in the manger was really just a doll, just a nice story, and the children re-enacting the picture were just cute little kids doing what the grown ups told them to do. Perhaps it really is just a nice story, suitable for bedtime reading but not having any more significance for our lives than that.

Or perhaps God really has entered into the human story by being with us, by coming disguised as one of us. Perhaps the truth is that we have missed the signs and we are much like the innkeeper or guesthouse owner who didn't recognize that the young couple knocking at the door looking for safe sanctuary was actually the human parents chosen to care for the most precious gift they could have.
Perhaps we need to return to our childhood selves and in our grown up understanding see through the dishtowels and bathrobes and soft, squishy straw so that we will be once again filled with awe and hope and expectation. Hope that is beyond our comprehension even in our grown-up-ness; that God in so wanting to reveal Himself to us, to redeem us, and walk us through how to live in His kingdom would come as one of us,  the Son of God in wrapped in human skin and vulnerability.

This is what the Lord Almighty says: "In those days ten people from all languages and nations will take firm hold of one Jew by the hem of his robe and say, 

'Let us go with you, because we have heard that God is with you'" (Zechariah 8:23).