ABOUT WHEN WE LOST JESUS IN THE BOX

I am quietly elated when my artistic and analytic son agrees to empty the boxes of seasonal decorations. As he unravels the protective newspaper layers and styrofoam from the boxes, the Bethlehem creche pieces are randomly displayed and I hear my voice ask, "Can you make sense of this mess?"


For we cannot keep God in the box. I think about Jesus who was never purposed to be stored in a  box to be set out later on a single celebratory occasion for display. This Messiah who was born into an unraveling mess was never purposed  "for display only." Certainly, there is no limit to God's  grandeur. He is to be adored and revered and praised, but He desires commune in both our delight and our distress.  

His life was designed for all generation's and all people's messy history.   His life was Divinely destined to be used and spent and broken and bruised that we could make sense of this gift of life we are boxed in.  He is the gift of the beat up box and the antique family heirloom box and  the eloquently wrapped new box. He is gift wrapped in swaddling clothes for the downcast and the destitute, the hungry and the  privileged, the babe and the elderly, the lost and the sure.

But we cannot keep God in a box.  When my son sets the scene of the birth...the gate, shepherds, animals, wisemen, gifts, an inn... history emerges.   

A busy Bethlehem bustles with sojourners sharing rooms on mats, with merchants selling silks, cheese, olives, grapes, tea, and fish.,  with servants working to wash clothes, wash feet, and bake bread,  and with a Savior to be born near a not so silent town. Finally, the story begins to unfold as we search the box for the  the baby Jesus we will set at his birth in Bethlehem.  

How to make sense of the mess of our days, of our busy, bustling Bethlehem days? And what inn have I boxed Jesus?  Am I the sojourner whose head lies on a crowded room's mats in search of a night's rest who misses the Promise of the birth of Shalom?  Am I the merchant that sells the fish to men but misses the birth of the Fisher of Men. Am I the lowly servant whose heart has missed the birth of the Hope it longs for?   What box have I tightly wrapped Jesus within? 

I view my son's most  accurate portrayal of the Luke scene. But HARK his mother cries as I realize we are missing the most important part of this scene!   BABY JESUS IS NOT THERE. JESUS IS LOST!  HE WAS NOT IN THE BOX!

My son can't imagine this could be true and hunts to find him. We laugh at the irony of the scene

set before us. We joke that the placement of the wise men outside the city will definitely have to remain that way if we cannot find Jesus. Nothing of this scene can move forward without his birth.

And this night is about his birth and our birth and His birth within us. We sense the precious and fragile.

We agree that we have time to find Jesus before Christmas. And we joke that Jesus probably wasn't really born in December, but probably more like September around all the other feasts and festivals. That could leave us a lot of time! We exchange excuses for why we have time to leave Jesus out of our Bethlehem. What will we do? WILL WE FIND HIM BEFORE CHRISTMAS?

And it all feels so urgent!  We must seek the King wherever He may be found.  And then suddenly it is.  He is not where we supposed Him to be.  He is not in the box we intended Him to be. We must look carefully around and search  places overlooked before. 

The proposal begins to form around the edges of my mind?  Can I leave Jesus out of our Christmas scene? My heart  falls to my knees because I know the times I have found excuses to leave Jesus out of my chaotic world.  I have placed Him in a box and lost Him.  I have set Him on display and called upon Him as the occasions need. Have I grasped the full truth of the scene of  Jesus' birth with eyes that see beyond this simple display stored in a box? 

As Western culture translates the account, on the night that Joseph and Mary arrived in Bethlehem, they were rejected by a local hotel that had its “No Vacancy” sign turned on. But His birth didn't occur on the day of their arrival.  There was time to prepare for His coming!  

I too have lived full and missed the vacancy  that allows Jesus room to move and speak. People didn't leave Mary  to deliver Jesus alone as I depict in my mind.  

She would have been assisted by others waiting and preparing. There will be no excuses for not wandering  ready and awake anticipating what Jesus births. His delivery is precious and fragile and expected.

Mary and Joseph were  cared for days in advance of the birth probably at Zachariah and

Elizabeth's or a private home who let them in the family living quarters. And with the business of the days, the owners of the home would have given guests the upstairs chamber and then sacrificed their space in the family area.  And the valuable animals were also content and calm there on the first floor where people ate on cloths on the floor. And Jesus would be content, calm, guarded , and warm in a clean stall where feed for animals of travelers was placed. The picture painted of a world that left Jesus to be born among animals, isn't accurate. There was genuine hospitality. 

Is the box I placed Jesus in accurate?   This giving and joy of service demonstrates the true meaning of Christmas. Have I carried the cares of others in my arms?  Have I sacrificed my comfort for His way of service and peace? Have I offered to use even my meager means to serve the needs of those around me? Have I kept guard over ones that cannot defend themselves? Has the shalom of the birth of forgiveness been birthed in the chambers of my heart?

Christ was sent and birthed into this mess to become the Messiah in a most unusual way.Jesus was not born into a home where people closed their hearts and doors, but He was born into one of giving and sharing and helping and sacrificing of space.  Christ doesn't need a scene of poor circumstances that make His life seem demeaned and sad. He was born into life to die; His life a gift to give away  

 It is the birth of the extraordinary among common circumstances.   The true spirit of Christmas is that He was born into these common and usual celebratory circumstances.   And it is the birth of an extraordinary God displayed in my life and heart and not within the box I try to keep Him that shines light in the world. 


It is the about the conception of the inconceivable, the "word made flesh" for today and tomorrow,  that we shout. Jesus came and gave, and He comes and gives. Shepherds sharing the extraordinary announcement of His birth by angels made His life extraordinary news.

And so my son and I joke about how we lost Jesus in a box. When we find Jesus, we may not find Him in His usual box this Christmas. Thinking back to the beginning of the unraveling of this scene of the request of my son, "Can you make sense of this mess?"  I realize the lost Jesus from the box was meant for me to be found anew within my heart this Christmas.