The Unlikely Matter of Christmas

I'm one of those people who, by nature, finds comfort in consistency. I like it when things fit the expected pattern, when matters are clearly defined and ordered. My wife went through a spell where she tried a different recipe every time she made meatloaf. After several months of experimentation, I finally requested a moratorium on meatloaf in our household. It's not that they were all bad (although there were a few tragic missteps), I just couldn't deal with the numerous, unexpected variations. I want certainty and continuity. Call me obsessive, call me compulsive, call me insane - it's just me.

In my more mature and lucid moments, when I recognize this tendency as a deep-seated and personal issue of control, I also catch a glimpse of how this shapes my perceptions, understanding, and expectations of God. You see, sometimes I want God to fit into my self-created definition, to work according to my preconceived expectations, and to be contained by the boundaries of my understanding. Although I may not admit it openly, part of me wants a God who is safe and predictable, a God who shuns surprises and acts in line with my notion of consistency. Christmas, however, reminds me that God is anything but that; it reveals a God who acts in surprising and unlikely ways, who breaks in unexpectedly and mysteriously. Consider the story again:

God comes into the world, not with sky-splitting glory and power that drops people to their knees, but in human flesh, as a baby with all the usual dependencies and needs.

The Word of God became flesh, and in the mystery and wonder of this incarnation, Jesus somehow embodies the fullness of humanity and the fullness of God.

A young girl, ordinary and unexceptional in the eyes of the world, from a backwater town, with the common name of Mary, becomes instrumental in this divine story of redemption.

A common laborer named Joseph, without position, means, or power, is entrusted with the role of raising and providing for the Son of God.

The news of this miraculous in-breaking of God's Light into the darkness of our world was shared first, not with those considered famous or significant, but with common shepherds marked by the dirt of the fields and the smell of sheep.

Pagans from a far off country, moved by the sight of a star, came as unlikely worshippers while the educated, religious elite remained oblivious to what God was up to.

And the Son of God, the Word made flesh, came into this world, not with the appearances and trappings of nobility and dignity, but born in the mess and smell of an animal stall.

This is not how I would write the story; it is not what I would consider likely, expected, or even appropriate. But this is God's story, one that reveals His delight in working in unexpected ways, in surprising places, and in unlikely people. Christmas reminds me that God cannot be defined by my idea of what is likely, He cannot be contained by my personal expectations and judgments. God is working in ways, places, and people that I would not expect or imagine, and my efforts to contain or tame Him will only blind me to what He is doing.

"Lord, in this Advent season, I am reminded that you are a God who works beyond my boundaries of understanding and expectation. As an ordinary person, marred by weaknesses of all kinds, that brings me hope. As unlikely as it might seem, I too can be an instrument of your grace. And even as I try to embrace that truth for myself, help me to extend that same grace to others. You are at work in surprising ways, in places I would not imagine, and through people I would not expect. I ask You, simply, to give me the eyes to see it."