God Enters the Mess. Merry Christmas!

He did it! He came! He’s here!

Jesus Christ, the light of the world, the King of kings, the Lord of lords, the Savior of all mankind, is born today – right into our mess.

“The word became flesh and made His dwelling among us.” –John 1:14

Jesus broke into Bethlehem at the height of a census in the middle of winter, in a dirty stable. He descended from a broken family, a poor foster father and was immediately exiled. He was homeless, cold, and hungry. He was laid in a manger…and in his soft Mother’s arms. He was loved.

Thank you, God.

We’re nuts! Human beings are nuts! And God came anyway. He created Jesus to link human and divine so we could go to heaven. He became human. He became one of us. “What if God was one of us…?” We are slobs. God’s not. But He choose to be among us even in the midst of our slob state.

Thank you God.

I recently visited a bachelor’s pad and was reminded of the messiness of my heart and the glory of Christmas in Bethlehem. Imagine…Condiments lined the living room mantle. Empty toilet paper rolls littered the bathroom floor. And a skateboard sat at one end of the long hall for easy access to the other side.

Who arrived? God. These men had nothing to hide. They leave their door unlocked and occasionally strangers stumble in from the restaurant next door. They don’t even mind.

I wouldn't want to live in this state of affairs, but I marveled that these people do. There is something glorious about raw living, where people simply live how they live and don’t put on a front. In spite of the mess, I was still welcomed and offered water in a styrofoam cup.

In reality, there’s no hiding the mess. God knows every single mess I’ve made in my life and He decides to love me anyway. He loves me through my messes. And I am grateful.

There I experienced the poverty of Bethlehem – and remembered the raw reality of a baby born in a messy stable, to two exhausted parents.

I spent time with some parents yesterday. At the end of the night, they alternate between cleaning downstairs and bathing the children. The one-year-old actually had two baths--she was washed in the sink mid-dinner so she could see since spaghetti sauce somehow blocked her vision...

By the end of the meal (the parents had decided it was warm enough to let her eat shirtless), she was completely covered in sauce, including her belly, hair, ears, etc. She got a proper bubbly washing with her 2-year-old sister in the tub later.

That same two-year-old had run through puddles on our way to the corner store, and remarked at the animals she saw on the way.

We passed one house where two large black dogs barked furiously and strained at their leashes. The owner warned my friend’s daughter that they wouldn’t harm her. Oblivious to his comment and totally unperturbed the little girl greeted the beasts cheerfully and called in all sincerity, “Hi kittens!”

At dinner time, she offered the compliment, “You’re a niiiiice cookin’ chef.”

Earlier that day, I delivered Christmas crafts to a student who missed the last day of school. His sister was pogo-sticking on the front porch. I walked inside to find his brother who held out the family cat. A few other siblings and friends made gingerbread houses at the long kitchen table while the mother showed me the dry wall where the kitchen was under construction. On my way out, another sister showed me their pet... chicken.

Tonight, I watched fire trucks circle my neighborhood as Santa and Mrs. Clause greeted the residents and firemen handed candy canes to children. I also watched my neighbor and his family curse and laugh as they carried out their yearly tradition: launching a glowing Christmas star high in the sky—carried by helium balloons and powered by a very long extension cord. The curses arose with the wind, which led the star between trees and made quite a hilarious scene.

Yes, God. You made human beings. We’re totally crazy. And you became one of us. You made us little and full of energy, innocent and humorous. You allowed us to experience pain, as we got older --and rejection, humiliation and fear. You allowed us to have coping mechanisms and addictions and you allow us to heal through the love of other human beings.

You recreate us in the midst of our woundedness and bring beauty out of brokenness.

My students brought beauty from brokenness when they created a Bethlehem scene from trash. Boxes and cartons serve as the inn and stable. And all the people, angels, animals and star are made from scraps of cardstock.

Jesus lays in a box filled with shredded yellow felt. Mary has stars around her (like Our Lady of Guadalupe)... and the little drummer boy looks pissed off.

Perhaps he’s mad that he’s poor and doesn’t have a gift. Maybe he’s angry that he didn’t make it into the Bible. I don’t think the child intentionally made the drummer boy look angry, but it’s good to reflect once again that Jesus was born into a broken world -- and I have no way of knowing all the details of the true Nativity story.

Another child adapted the Nativity story with her Popsicle stick play. In her rendition, Mary asked, “Joseph, would you knock on the inn and see if maybe we could stay in the stable?”

Mary leads me to Jesus, her Son, so perhaps in her gentle womanly way, she nudged Joseph to ask about lodging. Who knows? But I enjoy the reflection.

Humans. We all need support, inspiration and love. I saw a sign today that said, “God sees us as we can be but loves us as we are.” 

God knows the mess. He knows every single little thing about me -- because He made me. And that's why He gives me the greatest gift of all: the cure, His only Son, King Jesus.