December 13th

The Birth of Christ

It's a little weird to be doing this Mystery during Advent. It feels like skipping ahead. We're supposed to still be in the Waiting Period.

I almost had more trouble, however, with which step this is in the progression of faith. Is it the first time that we bear true fruit? When we first bring Christ into the world, become a window for God to work His wonders? Is it our first true contact with the Divine?

If the Rosary is the story from Mary's perspective, if she is the example we are meant to follow, then the first suggestion seems to make the most sense.

Honestly, I usually get caught up on Joseph. Probably because of that rosary book I had growing up that had Bible verses for each Hail Mary. The focus for this Mystery was God explaining matters to Joseph, so I often tend to think of how God takes care of you. When He asks the impossible, He goes out of the way, where He can, to make sure that we can bear the load, that it is not harder than it needs to be.

Or I focus on the macro - the shock of Christmas. Honestly, it's amazing we have made it sweet (that's not really the right word but you get the idea). This is the most shocking thing that ever happened. As I talked about in the Sorrowful Mysteries, there are all kinds of stories of gods who die or priests who die representing gods. But for the Almighty, the Infinite to become human...

A being of infinite power, knowledge, love, influence, terror, wisdom - limited Himself. The Creator of the universe (and all the others) limited Himself. Became less. That's shocking. World-changing.

And all words cheapen it, so let that just sink in.

Boggles the mind, doesn't it?

There's a Medieval Miracle Play called The Second Shepherd's Play that I performed in (Third Shepherd) last year. It's a farcical romp about three shepherds (an old coot, a middle-aged man weary of his wife and a young wipper-snapper (me)) who have a young lamb stolen from them by a conman. The conman and his wife attempt to hide the theft by pretending that the lamb is their newborn child. This actually works briefly before the shepherds come back with gifts and apologies and discover the truth. Then, once they catch the pair, they forgive them and only "toss him in a canvas" before going back to sleep. Then an Angel (probably doubled with the Conman for contrast) shows up and proclaims the Birth of Christ; so they walk from Wales to Jerusalem in the length of three short monologues and meet Mary and the baby (probably doubled with the conman's wife though probably not the sheep for the baby).

It's a thoroughly ridiculous prelude to a Nativity Scene. But the part where God became man is much more absurd. They are three simple men, and they get it best. They offer grapes, a bird and, my favorite, a tennis ball to the newborn as offerings. Mary is very kind about their attempts to offer tribute. But really, what tribute could we have given?

Simple men who worried, respectively, that their time would come in the bitter winter, they were not happy in their marriage and that the end of days were upon us, found forgiveness and were rewarded with the revelation of the divine. They found compassion - they found no need for punishment since in the end no permanent harm was done - and they were shown the face of God.

May we all be so lucky.

Christmas is an earthshattering story of cosmic significance - and, honestly, it's a huge absurdity from any angle I can tease out with my human brain. That God Himself would become less, would limit Himself, for the sake of the silly little humans who misunderstand Him so regularly. About whom the best you can really say is that, though dim and worrisome and suspicious, they can find forgiveness and compassion if no real harm was done.

And those flawed little creatures see the Face of God, made human so that they can survive the sight. Made less so that they can hear His words. Limited so that they can know Him as much as humanly possible.

The manger and the stable is the least of it. A palace would still have been an utterly ridiculous place. In this one act alone is more love than this world can hold. God Himself so loved the world that He let Himself become less, long before He let Himself die. He became human so that we might live.

And may we, like Mary, bring that Light, that glorious and shocking and wonderful Light, into the lives of others. May we bear fruit, as He told us almost thirty-three years after this event. May we be a part of bringing Him back into the world for others.

Merry Christmas.