Corina Hurst is our new Multigenerational Ministry Guide. She will be with us each Sunday to cultivate deepened faith and relationships with families, children, youth and the whole congregation. On Sunday, December 29, she shared this story in a casual “Cocoa and Carols” worship service! We are glad she is with us. Corina will focus on elementary age children and up and thier families. While Crystal Lind our Preschool Director will provide nursery care for children 1-3 years.
The Story:
Many of us are still displaying cute, ceramic or wooden depictions of the nativity in our homes today, and the season of Christmas is still in our midst. An assortment of gentle, sleepy animals, two reverent new parents, a heavenly being who probably looks more like us than the realm she really came from, a babe born into poverty, lying happily in a bed of straw, and 3 unlikely visitors, dressed in opulent colors with skin that contrasts that of the little one these fragile sculpted figures came just to see.
The scripture that tells us of the star seekers is short, but calls Christ "king" and "Shepherd" in nearly the same breath, a stark contrast only exaggerated by the knowledge that he was the seemingly illegitimate child of a teenager and a carpenter. It would have made sense to us, for a horde of wise aristocrats, astrologers and scholars from the East to follow a star or the planet Jupiter across wilderness to find a strong, cunning emperor to lead them, and a palace that would host their lot in feasting and festival, the party of a lifetime. That is something I would travel for. But what the magi saw over the dunes when they reached the place where the star stood, was not much, I imagine. The strangers were welcomed into the grand hall... of a stable. They fell down beside the child to worship at the foot of not his throne... but a feeding trough. And yet, the bible says they were overjoyed at the sight. I can't imagine.
Sometimes when our human expectations are not met, we choose to cut our losses. You arrive at a restaurant and find out that there will be a wait, so you get back in the car and drive to another. You show up to a gathering only to find out that your best friends aren't there, so you fake a yawn, make an excuse to turn in early and sneak out. You start out a new year with hope that your life will magically change -- and when it doesn't, you go back to your old ways. It's fairly easy for us to say, "eh never mind". We do it all the time.
Each of use chooses to cut things out of our everyday for the sake of living our best life... But when we turn our back on hard relationships, long journeys, and the dirty work of being human... Occasionally, we miss out on the very heart of the Divine.
I've sat in wonder, at times, at the fact that the scripture about the magi does not read "Half of the magi bowed down before the child in awe and wonder, and the other half took their frankincense and headed to the nearest tavern, disappointed". Whatever they saw that night was enough. Enough to kneel, with silk-covered knees in the filth of a stable, to bestow the fine gifts of royalty, and to defy a powerful and dangerous King, simply to spare the life of a boy, a poor commoner from another tribe. That is the mystery of seeing the face of God... Following a promise, or just a ray of hope, into the most unexpected, unglamorous, undignified place and then kneeling at the sight.
How often do you follow a star in the sky, only to find a barn basking in the light where you thought a castle would surely stand? And the real question is, do you turn back and trek the path you came from without even approaching the doors? Sometimes I do.
What auspicious sign are you following into this shiny new decade, approaching with all the promise of a star rising in the East? When you reach it, will you choose to see a sad assortment of livestock and a grimy child... or the face of God and a cloud of witnesses taking shelter in the clear night? Will it be enough for you to say "Yes, God is in the midst of this, too."? While the star doesn't always lead weary travelers where we expect or hope, the lens is our choice.
Tomorrow, and in the new year, may you find saints where you imagine only farmhands would tread. May you be surprised by angels in the dark field while you watch over your sheep, and may you find holy strength where you expect earthly weakness. More than anything, may you see the stable at the end of the road and say "Yeah, that's enough." Amen.