On every
boyhood Christmas Eve, I remember waiting to get my brown bag of candy. The apple would get a quick toss to the
trash, but I dug deep to find my orange, sugar-coated gel candy. Sounds delicious when I say it out loud,
doesn’t it? People who are aware of my food tastes realize that those who
possess a sweet tooth belong to other family members. They will remain nameless for the safety of my
well-being. Regardless, I am rarely
enticed by too many sweets; probably my greater issue has been with liking sweet
drinks. Now I must admit it has been
difficult to appreciate regular tea as opposed to sweet tea. Yet, that cheap piece of orange candy enticed
me every year, which was odd because those bags cost 50 cents at the store. Not that they were out of my price range, there
just was something about eating that candy Christmas night before we returned
home to find out what Santa got us. It
revealed a narrative of my life.
Sometimes we forget details in our
narratives. Over Thanksgiving, our
family was talking about finding a needy family next year to support. I expressed my opinion that we should anonymously
choose a family and begin to learn their story. In our world of giving, knowing the story of
the lives of people helps us to understand what giving truly means. It was in a similar time for us that a piece
of my family’s story came out. It was
the period after the divorce when we were broke, and our church had even put us
on the giving tree. That was a truly
humbling experience for my family. My
wife was shocked to learn this. God has
changed my family narrative by adding Rod, my step-dad, to our lives. It was at that point that I realized that
Mindy and I had lived such different lives.
My wife’s family had its lean years, but during most of them she was too
young to remember. When we evaluate the narratives of our lives, we find pieces we
have not contemplated in awhile.
Undoubtedly, the Christmas services
create a whirlwind of different portions of the nativity narrative. Many of you may also have narratives created
in your minds by nativity plays that ended with the presentation of brown bags
of orange candy. You might remember
angels singing, “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.” You might remember Mary in a blue robe, and
Joseph wearing a brown one. You might
recall seeing little costumed shepherds visiting the new king, while the story
was read by a 5th grader who was super nervous. As we grow up, we return to the Gospel accounts
written by four men who had very unique perspectives on the telling of the
nativity. Over the last couple of days
we heard Luke’s very detailed and precise version. On Christmas Day there was a more general
connection to God’s Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us. This weekend we are reminded that this is not simply
some sweet story with cows and sheep keeping our Savior warm; rather this is
the story of a loving Father who came to rescue His people from a world of sin,
pain, and the devil’s attempts (through broken human beings like kings and
others) to destroy that plan. Yet, the
narrative of the nativity would not be stopped by the distractions of this
world. Every detail of God’s narrative
leads us to an important understanding of how Jesus came to rescue all people. And here we are today, experiencing another
Christmas time, which is full of the usual distractions, struggles, blessings, and
love; but most importantly, Jesus. Again
we hear this familiar story that we have heard many times, but this I pray: in your worship, in loving others, in reading,
and in your prayer lives, stop and notice the details of the narrative of the
nativity. I also pray that this account
blesses your life and reminds you of how much Jesus loves you. The story of Jesus’ birth has not changed, but
the kid who once loved the sweet taste of that orange candy has turned into a
man who prays that people are not so distracted that they miss the depth of
Jesus’ love for them. Your story has
changed this year, but God’s promise to send His Son will never change.
No comments:
Post a Comment