I think that devout people are
sometimes a little envious of the shepherds and the Magi. I think some of
us wish we had been there, that we could have seen the Holy Infant in the
manger, or seen the Toddler on his mother’s lap in their house. But, to
be honest, we are probably better off than they were. They saw him in his
physical body as it existed before his resurrection, while we see him as
he chooses to appear in his risen and glorified body. They saw him for
only a few minutes, whereas we can see him far more often than that if we
choose. Perhaps one or another of the shepherds of Magi might have
touched him, or even held him, but we are allowed more; we may caress him
within the tissues of our own body.
You still don’t think we are better
off than the shepherds and the magi? Consider this, that the one who made
this world—for without him nothing was made—also scripted his ministry
upon the earth. When we are first getting to know someone we often ask,
where do you come from? We expect that someone who answers, “I was born
in Washington DC” will be different than someone who says, “I was born in
Racine, Wisconsin.” We expect someone from Washington to have been
exposed to a more cosmopolitan culture and have more liberal values, while
someone born in Racine would have more traditional values and a more
conservative bent. So the One whose birth we celebrate today arranged
that he be born in Bethlehem, Hebrew for “House of Bread.” And why “House
of Bread”? Was he giving us a clue—some token—by which we might recognize
him when he appears after his resurrection? If his risen body could
appear and disappear, and if he could change his appearance so that two of
his disciples could not recognize him as they walked a good way talking
with him and then—and only then—recognize him in the breaking of the
bread, could he not appear in the guise of bread?
Oh, you might say, this is true but
more appropriate for Easter. Say something to us about Christmas.
Alright, consider this, there would be no Easter without Christmas, for
Christ would have no human body with which to die and descend to the dead
and conquer death itself in so doing. Christ had to confront death on its
battlefield, and for that he needed to assume flesh. By taking flesh and
becoming Man Christ has consecrated our flesh and blood, and made it the
vehicle of salvation, and so his birth is the celebration of our
possibilities, our challenge. While the devil might have laughed at our
crude flesh at one time, now he is humiliated by it. No Christmas, no
Easter. Christ is born, glorify him!