A STORY THAT BELONGS TO EVERYONE

Fourth week of Advent (Wednesday)

Luke 2:4-7 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, ... 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.

My grandmother used to say of a story “If it isn’t worth exaggerating it isn’t worth telling.” I’m not sure “exaggerating” is the word I’d use, but I do think she was onto something. A good story begs for added detail. It catches us up and draws us in, and we drag in all sorts of things without even noticing we’re doing it. The story of that first Christmas is a good story, well worth telling. And it has, consequently, drawn in millions of people through the years, who have, in turn, added plenty.

• The manger has morphed into a stable with sheep, an ox, an ass, and even halos, background music, a shining star overhead, and a little drummer boy. In some versions the animals talk. In a few ancient versions even the baby talks.
• “No room for them in the inn” has become an uncaring, nasty innkeeper who slams the door on a desperate young couple, or a caring, kindly one who leads the expectant mother and her husband to a meagre place of shelter.
• Magi, who brought three gifts at some later time, have blossomed into three kings, each from a different race or ethnic group, with a caravan of camels and servants, all crammed into this little stable scene.
• And even Mary’s donkey is an added detail.

And what we couldn’t add to the story, we’ve added to the feast: holly, ivy, mistletoe, Yule logs, wreaths, Christmas trees, coloured lights, candy canes, songs and stories, plumb pudding, nuts, egg-nog, gifts and stockings, pageants, reindeer-powered flying-sleighs, elves and Santa.

The purists shake their heads and grumble about commercialism and pagan influence, and worry that Jesus is being lost in all of this. But Jesus can take care of himself, so all that does is add a note of discord to the festivities.

Christmas isn’t transported, but translated everywhere it goes. And, being the feast of the incarnation, it’s quite appropriate that this is so. When “the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1:14) it was first century Jewish flesh, in a first century Jewish world. And everywhere he goes he is indigenous.

When we first meet Jesus he looks rather like us, or at least like someone we might want to become. And as we become more like him we find he looks rather like others. We begin to see his face in boy and girl faces; black, brown, yellow and white faces; rich, poor, young and old faces; in the faces of innocent victims and even of guilty offenders. Why, we actually begin to see his face in flowers and lakes, earth and sky; in all of creation.

This is the incarnation. God enters his world at any point in time and space; from there he touches everything.

Some Children See Him – James Taylor

(See you Sunday.)