Showing posts with label Manger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Manger. Show all posts

Sunday, 23 December 2012

From The Squalor Of A Borrowed Stable

I'm a country gal, so I'm one of these people who simply loves the smell of a farmyard. 
 
However, whilst I love the smell whilst I'm out walking, it's not a smell I would like in my own home.  Far less, when I was giving birth.
 
We tend to have a preconceived, polished idea about the nativity scene: we send each other Christmas cards with an air-brushed Madonna and baby.  The shepherds and wise men are strategically placed to frame the newborn baby and the animals look as though they have just been washed and cleaned for the occasion.
 
But the reality is that Jesus was born in amongst the animals.  It would have been messy and smelly and dirty.  It wasn't a clinical, sterilised maternity ward with midwives on hand to ease this new mother's birth.
 
"[Mary] gave birth to her first child, a son. She wrapped him snugly in strips of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no lodging available for them."
 
[Luke 2:7 NLT]
 
When you think that God could have chosen to enter the world in any way possible, we must ask why He chose to be born in such dire conditions.  The circumstances of His birth are hardly the stuff of fairytale.  Nor do they suggest His true identity or royalty.
 
But I love that Jesus was born into a messy, dirty situation.
 
It reminds me that He lovingly steps into the mess of my life, too.  I don't have to 'clean up' or make myself tidy or 'presentable'.  I don't have to tidy the mess of my life before I can come before Him.
 
I don't have to pretend to be perfect, or go through some sort of ritual to make myself good enough to come into His presence. 
 
And what's more, I know that He understands what it means to live in messy conditions - both literally and metaphorically.  He can understand my struggles.
"This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do, yet he did not sin.  So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God.  There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most."
 
[Hebrews 4:15 NLT]
 
 
That's the kind of King I want.
 
 
 

Sunday, 9 December 2012

It's What's On The Inside That Counts

I've just started rewatching the Disney childhood classic 'Aladdin'.
 
At the beginning, the travelling salesman/narrator introduces the magic lamp and tells the audience that, like many things, It might not look like much from the outside, but it's what's on the inside that counts.
 
His line reminds me of Isaiah's description of Jesus:
 
       "He had no special beauty or form to make us notice him;
       there was nothing in his appearance to make us desire him.
       He was hated and rejected by people.
       He had much pain and suffering.
       People would not even look at him.
       He was hated, and we didn’t even notice him."
 
       [Isaiah 53:2-3 NCV]
 
There was nothing stereotypically attractive about Jesus.  Nothing on the outside to make us stop and notice Him.
 
But on the inside.
 
On the inside, He is the most attractive person who has ever lived.
 
But we have to look beneath the surface.  We have to choose to look beneath the surface.
 
The Jews rejected Jesus because He wasn't what they expected: they were waiting for a royal King to rescue them from oppression and to bring God's rule and reign to earth.  They were looking for a figure of strength and power and authority and instead, they found a tiny, weak, helpless baby in a manger.
 
They rejected Him because He didn't look like a King.
 
Sometimes we can reject Jesus because He doesn't fit our stereotype or our preconceptions.  We can reject Him as the One who can fulfil our needs and satisfy the longings of our hearts.  We can reject Him as the answer to our prayers.  We reject Him because He doesn't fit into our preconceived idea of what He should be like.
 
And He doesn't fit into our preconceptions, because He is bigger than them.  He is bigger than our ideas and our imaginings and our hopes and our dreams. 
 
But we only see it when we look beyond the surface.