Hinsdale Magazine | Insight
The Christmas crib The crib in bedlam It was bedlam in the Harrison household on Christmas day. Wired on too many candy-canes and the frenzy of gifts too easily given and too quickly torn apart, the kids were running amok. When the two-year-old smashed the creche-scene in a fit of jealous rage, mom could take it no more. Grabbing young Tyler by the arm, she hauled him upstairs, and practically threw him into his playpen. The child wailed like his life was over, and though the door was slammed shut as his mother left, everyone downstairs could still hear the tantrum. A few minutes later, grandfather entered the child’s room. Tyler was clutching the edge of the playpen, and still jumping up and down, crying. At the sight of his grandfather, the boy’s little hands shot up, as he burbled through his tears, “Out, gramps, out!” It was only natural for the older man to reach down to lift the child out of his predicament. As he moved to do so, however, the voice of his daughter snapped from behind: “No, dad, that’s not helpful. Tyler, you are being punished—so you must stay in.” The grandfather was at a loss. The child’s tears and outstretched hands reached deeply into his heart, but the mother’s wisdom in correcting her son couldn’t be taken lightly. As he stepped back from the crib, Tyler’s wailing soared to a new pitch. Collecting herself in the kitchen a moment later, mom returned to the living room, shaking her head in exasperation. It was then that she noticed that the noise from above had stopped. “I don’t believe it,” she said. Quickly mounting the staircase, she burst through the bedroom door, her mouth already moving to berate her father for stopping the lesson before its work was done. But what she saw simply made her stand in shock. Grandpa had not removed the child from the playpen; he had climbed into the pen with him. The manger in Bethlehem Do you think Mary grasped the staggering descent at the heart of Christmas? Did it occur to her as she gazed into those quietly-blinking eyes and touched that puckered mouth, that this tiny, helpless infant in her arms was actually the most enormous presence and the greatest power in the universe? Did the significance of the words of the angel now really
come home to her—that this was not simply a baby she held, but “Emmanuel,” literally meaning “God with us?” Did she understand that on that holy night, the Most High God had climbed over the rail between eternity and time, and let himself down into the crib of humanity?—More importantly, do we? The meaning of it all What does it mean to you that God entered the crib of human flesh and life? I’ll tell you what it means to me. First, it means that God understands everything about the confines of human life that limit and stress us. He knows the fatigue and aches you feel at the end of a trying day. He has hit his thumb with a hammer, and suffered with a cold. God knows what it is to be hungry, to thirst and to have a headache. He understands what it’s like to feel pulled in a dozen different directions by clamoring people, and to not want to watch the news. God has felt the terror of his body giving out and shuddering under the cold, creeping shadow of death. That God came into the crib with us also means that God knows what it’s like to endure the consequences of human moral failure. He has felt what it is to live with angry or insensitive people. He gets what it is to be criticized, maligned and misunderstood. He knows the pull of temptation you feel, and the agony of hard choices. He understands loneliness and the pain of separation from those you love, or rejection by those whose love you want. He can be with you and me in these things, because he has been there himself. And finally, Christmas means that God offers hope and help for us all. It is important to remember that while the one we honor during this season has come into our crib, he comes from beyond it, from far “above the rail.” Like a cosmic grandparent, God has abilities we don’t have in ourselves. He can counsel us through our present troubles and tantrums. He can pronounce us forgiven of our failures, and grant us a new beginning. He has the capacity to carry us to new life, even after our bodies wear out. Whether we are Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu or none of the above, every time we give good gifts to imperfect children, or stop to offer someone our full presence when we could have left them to struggle alone, we are entering into the mystery and marvel of what Christmas means. May yours be filled with grace.
DAN MEYER Columnist Dan Meyer is senior pastor of Christ Church Oak Brook. His additional writings and messages can be found at www.christchurch.tv. 72
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