The First Christmas

"To us a child is born, to us a Son is given. And the government will be on His shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9v6

It's been a while since I last posted. I rather embarrassingly wrote a book instead. There's no easy way to say it really. Sorry to those of you who like me more concise, I got carried away. And then other people got carried away and here we are.

And so it is the most wonderful time of the year once again. And despite my last blog post on here calling for a revolution in tidings, I find myself feeling like an electrocuted cat.

I'm currently reading Advent Devotional -Comfort & Joy, by Matt Searles, and despite the fact that it is excellent and sets me right up for the day, by bedtime the mirror says otherwise. I have a firm grasp of comfort and joy at 8am, but keeping hold of it is an issue. 

This week was our last week at the toddler group I help run. We always like to make an effort and so I was dressed as an angel (complete with tinsel halo) when my sister-in-law called to tell me that the Christmas plans for our family had to be rearranged again. This was in spite of the last 6 weeks of effort which I can only describe as Mr Bean meets Chevvy Chase in terms of results. Current plans had resulted in my family agreeing to eat Christmas dinner on the A19 in our separate cars whilst travelling to have 'fun' together in another part of the country. As I stood there dressed as an angel, cooking 45 jacket potatoes and awaiting the arrival of a live donkey, willing to agree to anything my sister-in-law said, I caught glimpse of the other toddlers leaders, also dressed as nativity characters and wondered if the first nativity had been this fraught.

Initially, my mind flicked to one of those Victorian manger scenes, Mary finely reposed gazing lovingly at a very clean baby, laid on very clean hay, the ox and donkey looking adoringly on.

My Christmas was a long way from the stable. But as I turned over the people who we see standing by the manger on that first Christmas night, I realised I had forgotten what it took for them to actually be there.

Mary was a pregnant teenager in an age where you were stoned for being with child out of wedlock. She not only had to get on the back of a donkey whilst nine months pregnant, but then was homeless. She gave birth on the floor of a dirty and unsanitary barn, alone. She brought the Son of God into the world in pain, sweating and with tears. Maybe this is you this Christmas, tired, fearful and anxious. Feeling like you and everything around you is out of control.

The shepherds were a group ostracized by society. Treated as outcasts and looked down on, we find them in their safe place, on their own hillside amongst their friends and charges away from the judgemental eyes of everyone else and outside the town. Enter an angel. This was by no means the cherub-like, tinsel halo-clad being we all know and love. The bible describes these as warriors of light, huge, powerful and leaving you in no doubt that they could wipe you off the face of the earth at the word of God. There is a reason they almost always often start with the words "Do not be afraid". The shepherds too were terrified, for very different reasons. And then they had a choice to make, whether to leave their place of safety, their flock and livelihood and go into enemy territory to search for something no one else knew about. They would have looked crazy trying to find the baby in the manger. Hearing the scorn and ridicule of everyone else who hadn't had an angelic visit. Maybe this is you this Christmas, feeing on the outside, mocked by everyone around you, trying to find something you know is there but remains hidden.

And then there are the kings. It took two years for them to actually reach Jesus and when they did they went to the wrong place. While they may be the opposite in status to the shepherds their fight to the feet of Jesus was no less harsh. Their money, status and certainty would only have got them so far. And I wonder at what point they first considered turning back?  Six months in? 12 months? 18? Journeying in those days was brutal regardless of how much cash you had. There were no short cuts, or first class tickets. It was dirty, dusty and long. And when they did 'arrive', they were in the wrong place. Being interviewed by a power hungry maniac who offered them all they had wanted on the journey in return for giving up the location of Jesus. Perhaps you find yourself more with these guys this Christmas, slogging away to get to something you have started to doubt might be there. Tired, weary and tempted by the offer of someone with more power than you.

And finally there is Joseph. Possibly the most humble and faithful guy in the stable. He had found the woman he loved pregnant with someone else's baby, and to the eyes of the world, was a fool to stay with her. Even if he had left her, his reputation would have been tarnished and he would have always been followed by the whispers. He was about to adopt the Son of God, when it looked to the outside world that he was marrying a harlot having a breakdown. He would be forever ridiculed, and talked about. He was misunderstood, judged and looked down on. Perhaps this is where you are too.

All of the characters we see adoring the Son of Man in the manger had to fight to be there. Fight anxiety and fear. They had to persevere and have great faith in order to take their place in the stable.

It required monumental effort from each of them. A daily battle to find the comfort and joy that had been placed there. 

I think all my efforts around Christmas seem to carry with them the expectation that they will lead to a magical, 'holy' moment any minute. That if I do the right things, then I will be able to 'remember the reason for the season' and have a quiet revelation of God with us. But that's not what happened on the first Christmas. That scene was born out of struggle, pain, fear and tears. Mary was not sat there serenely nursing a child while Joseph stroked a lamb brought by one of the local shepherds.

It was messy and brutal. Jesus arrival was actually horrific. And those involved could have turned away, given up or been paralysed by fear (well, maybe not Mary, she was in it now and there's no going back at this point really, but she was, in all likeliness, terrified throughout.)

I don't know how messy your Christmas is looking right now. Or how anxious, fearful or lonely you feel. But Jesus was born into such circumstances and such emotions as these. He came as the King, and  He came to do business. He came into mess and left in pretty much the same way, proving that He does not shy away from the disaster that is our Christmas story this year. He is right there, in the midst of it all. 

Comfort and joy is here. But to take your place in the stable requires effort. It won't just magically happen over your Christmas Eve cheese and crackers. We need to fight through to get there. I sound the revolutionary call from last year once again to 'Just Say No!' to anything that doesn't pull you into the stable. But don't be surprised when this turns out to be a fight to the death. We need to be wise in where we place our efforts. We need to look for comfort and joy in all the moments of our Christmas - especially the awful ones. Your place by the manger is still there, waiting for you to fill it. So set your face towards it. Don't be conned into thinking your mess prevents you from being there. Be determined to sit by the manger and marvel at the One who holds the universe together.

It's worth it.

I'll see you in the hay.