Christmas and the Ordinary
Often we like to focus on the extraordinary of Christmas. The choirs of angels. The star. The wise men from the east. It's easily to look at Christmas from a miraculous perspective because, well, it was pretty miraculous.
But there's another perspective from which it is equally as important to look at Christmas from and that is the perspective of the ordinary. Mary and Joseph never saw the angels. They had no idea about the star. Until the shepherds showed up, the first Christmas for them was all about giving birth to a little boy in somewhat difficult circumstances. No miracles. No angels. Just the ordinary travails of humanity.
I think this second perspective is a critical one to look at, because by focusing only on the miraculous of Christmas, we lose sight of God's presence in the ordinary, the hum-drum, and the occasionally boring episodes of daily life. God did not come to earth on a cloud, or as a stately king. But rather, "There was in him no stately bearing to make us look at him, nor appearance that would attract us to him" (Is 53:2). More than all the miracles, all the extraordinary moments, all the heroes, and famous men, God came to sanctify the ordinary. There is no moment of human life and human existence too base or boring for God. The little baby Jesus nursed, slept and pooped just like all the rest of us. And in doing so, he sanctified all of it.
I fear that we look for Jesus too often in the big things, the outstanding experiences and the famous people. But if we truly want to find him, perhaps we should look at the little things, the quiet places and the unknown and unwanted. For he has sanctified those no less.
Merry Christmas!
But there's another perspective from which it is equally as important to look at Christmas from and that is the perspective of the ordinary. Mary and Joseph never saw the angels. They had no idea about the star. Until the shepherds showed up, the first Christmas for them was all about giving birth to a little boy in somewhat difficult circumstances. No miracles. No angels. Just the ordinary travails of humanity.
I think this second perspective is a critical one to look at, because by focusing only on the miraculous of Christmas, we lose sight of God's presence in the ordinary, the hum-drum, and the occasionally boring episodes of daily life. God did not come to earth on a cloud, or as a stately king. But rather, "There was in him no stately bearing to make us look at him, nor appearance that would attract us to him" (Is 53:2). More than all the miracles, all the extraordinary moments, all the heroes, and famous men, God came to sanctify the ordinary. There is no moment of human life and human existence too base or boring for God. The little baby Jesus nursed, slept and pooped just like all the rest of us. And in doing so, he sanctified all of it.
I fear that we look for Jesus too often in the big things, the outstanding experiences and the famous people. But if we truly want to find him, perhaps we should look at the little things, the quiet places and the unknown and unwanted. For he has sanctified those no less.
Merry Christmas!