And the Word was made flesh

As the angels once said to the shepherds - Fear not. I'm not about to launch on a full discussion of the Incarnation, which would not be possible at the moment. I'm no different than anyone else - I ate too much, drank too much, wept a little at the manger this morning (though the wonderful music kept me from indulging in that last unduly.) My family came for Christmas Eve lunch - this afternoon, I had a nice afternoon tea from the leftovers, downed yet another stiff drink, and then the cat and I played with one of the interactive toys Santa brought. So, now you all know what goes on in anchorholds on Christmas. :)

I am not immune to the allure of the Infant Jesus, no more than would any Franciscan be, yet I'm sorry, now and then, that much gets lost in the shuffle when we focus totally on how poor, or helpless, or well-behaved (Little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes... please! Newborns do not behave - it just is) the tiny Saviour was.

It is lovely to think of how the gospels capture the beginning of the story of our Saviour. Mark, with no attention to the early years, gives us the message flat out (a Marcan speciality): repentance. He begins his gospel with an event of such wonder that it would not have been apparent to those who observed it at the time: the first clear revelation of the Trinity, at Jesus' baptism. "My beloved Son," the descent of the Holy Ghost... pure wonder.

Luke, of course, gives us an extensive infancy narrative, and how I do wish we could see past the images of the ox and ass (whom Luke does not mention) and capture a bit more of the flavour of Gloria in excelsis Deo. (I'll spare my readers the reflection on how futile I feel about et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis, since men of good will may not exist until, perhaps, the parousia, based on my knowledge of world history.) Luke gives us Israel's first glance of the fulfilment of the promise that is as old as Eden. We see Zechariah, Elizabeth, Anna, Simeon recognise the Son of God - witness Gabriel's announcement to Mary - hear canticles - and, in the end ('finding in the Temple') hear Jesus himself refer to God as his Father.

There is much in Matthew about the infancy as well - but Matthew's special emphasis (found nowhere else) is the Magi. Divine truth's being revealed to the Gentiles - homage to the priest, prophet, and king. (Of course, I always did feel for the Magi, who had the best of intentions, yet were led, in the name of protocol and respect, to tell the wrong authority what they were doing. Herod's action makes one shiver, yet it sadly shows us how terribly violent authorities can become if they fear their rank is threatened.)

My love for the gospels must be clear, but no 'beginning' gives me the thrill of John's. It has shadows of sadness for human blindness - his own received him not. Yet we are reminded "to as many as received him, he gave the power to become the sons of God." Here is the true picture of His Church - the sonship, Jesus' by nature, is ours (by adoption) as his Church. Whether we prefer the infancy images of Luke or Matthew, let us remember that "all was created through him..."

I know - I am merely saying 'the grass is green.' Yet what is most wondrous and frustrating (and, I must add, 'faith challenging') in Christianity is that it perpetually is a religion of waiting - perhaps in hope, sometimes in doubt. It is all so far beyond us. Waiting for the Messiah - and not recognising him when he came. Waiting for his return in glory - then seeing that this would not be as immediate as one thought. Waiting for the parousia - and (God forgive me, but I'm honest) wondering if that, too, will be far different than we expect. The life in this world has always been difficult, and the wondrous events, with the Incarnation foremost, did not change anything as far as we can see. Perhaps the wickedness, however much it makes one shudder, is easier to accept, because it is the result of human choices. Yet so much suffering here has no explanation - it is no one's 'fault' - and it never seems to change.

Perhaps it will help, one of these days, for me to fully realise that Jesus experienced all of that as well. :)

Many blessings to all of my readers, and I wish you a joyous Christmas season. To avoid ending on a slightly 'down' note (sorry - somehow, no matter how much I see Jesus in the manger, the shadow of the cross seems to be on him - and the sermon I heard this morning was in that vein), I leave you with a glorious quotation from the Orthodox liturgy:

Your Nativity, O Christ our God,
Has shone to the world the Light of wisdom!
For by it, those who worshipped the stars,
Were taught by a Star to adore You,
The Sun of Righteousness,
And to know You, the Orient from on High.
O Lord, glory to You!