Put yourself in the beginning of the "greatest story ever told". Who are you?
Are you Caesar Augustus or Quirinius? You have some position of authority in the world on some level, in some small capacity. Somehow you rule. Perhaps news of this birth and its circumstance has reached your ears; but with your elite status, you quite don't know what to do with it. Are you going to dismiss it? Investigate it? Leave it to Herod?
Who are you?
Are you one of the myriads who went each to his own town? Wanting to be an individual, you still are lost in the crowd. You follow along, sometimes going along just to get along. You are just a number to someone. You hear of this story as well. It awakens echoes of what you were taught as you studied your religion.
Who are you?
Are you Joseph? Caught between doing what is right and doing the right thing, which are necessarily one and the same, you perhaps trust your head too much and your heart not nearly enough. Yet, you do what is your duty to God and others in a spirit of obedience and loyalty. You are right in the middle of this story. Intimately.
Who are you?
Are you Mary? Having to endure the physical challenges of pregnancy, you also have to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune brought about by your saying "yes". The echoes of "How can this be?" reverberate with every action. Yet, you are consoled by the words of Gabriel and Elizabeth as well as you carry deep within your body and soul. You are even more in the middle of this tale; in fact, it would not have gone forward without your participation.
Who are you?
Are you the innkeeper who could not provide room for even one more traveler? You are not mean-spirited in any way. Your accommodations were stretched to the limit and perhaps beyond. Practicality had to take precedence. Perhaps many years later, you heard a rabbi tell a parable involving another innkeeper in a small way and thought, "Was this directed at me from way back then and when?
Are you the innkeeper who could not provide room for even one more traveler? You are not mean-spirited in any way. Your accommodations were stretched to the limit and perhaps beyond. Practicality had to take precedence. Perhaps many years later, you heard a rabbi tell a parable involving another innkeeper in a small way and thought, "Was this directed at me from way back then and when?
Who are you?
Are you one of the shepherds to whom the angels spoke? Considered somewhat outcasts in society, in a job nobody with any dignity would want, you wander in your night watches where your place in the world is. Your reputation is tarnished by the company you keep, others who are only hired help and not true keepers of the flock. The "Glorias" you hear that night ring in your ears and your hearts.
Are you one of the shepherds to whom the angels spoke? Considered somewhat outcasts in society, in a job nobody with any dignity would want, you wander in your night watches where your place in the world is. Your reputation is tarnished by the company you keep, others who are only hired help and not true keepers of the flock. The "Glorias" you hear that night ring in your ears and your hearts.
Who are you?
The answer to the repeated question is the same, no matter who you are. "Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this event which the Lord has made known to us."
Venite adoremus, Dominum.
Hodie Christus natus est.
This should be our response when we meet the newborn King. We should welcome the Santo Nino with open arms and open hearts. He does nothing less.
Hodie Christus natus est.
This should be our response when we meet the newborn King. We should welcome the Santo Nino with open arms and open hearts. He does nothing less.
The Word was made flesh and made his dwelling among us, and we have seen his glory:
The glory of an only Son coming from the Father, filled with enduring love.
But the better question is not who we are at the beginning of the Christmas story.
Rather, it is "Who are we at the end?"
No comments:
Post a Comment