We Must Not Forget

"Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit." (Matthew 1:18)

A young girl, pregnant before marriage, shamed by her family and community, was my Savior's mother.

"And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn." (Luke 2:7)

My Savior was born a refugee. My Savior was born with no home. My Savior slept, for the first time, in a manger meant for animal feed.

"When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, 'Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.' And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger." (Luke 2:15-16)

One of the lowest viewed people, both economically and in cleanliness, who lived on the margins of society, were my Savior's first guests.

"Now when they had departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, 'Rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him." (Matthew 2:13)

My Savior was forced to flee for his life. My Savior was vulnerable and very much in need of saving.

"Then Herod, when he saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, became furious, and he sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem and in all that region who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had ascertained from the wise men.Then was fulfilled what was spoken by the prophet Jeremiah:'A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be comforted, because they are no more." (Matthew 2:16-18)

My Savior, as a babe, threatened the power structure. My Savior caused a scandal.

This is how my Savior's story starts.

This is the Jesus I serve.

We must not forget the person Jesus came here as. We must not forget the people who he celebrated with. We need not miss the darkness of our "Christmas story." We need not miss the pain. 

We make our Christmas season all about the Light, but what is the point if we don't first dive deep into the darkness of the world around us and in us? How do you recognize the Light when you're closing your eyes in the dark?

This passed month I have felt the presence of my Savior the strongest and seen the Light in a whole new way by experiencing the ache that comes from looking the darkness of this world straight in the face. I've found Jesus in the midst of peaceful protesters and meetings full of hurting people longing for justice. I have felt him in the pavement beneath my feet and the chill of the wind on my face. In listening to mothers and fathers cry for their children that are no more. I have found him in very dark and very painful places.

And it has hurt and sometimes, it makes you tired. There are tears and there is anger, and it weighs heavy on your heart, but there is no doubt in my mind that, that is where we, as people of faith, need to be, right in the middle of this deeply broken world.

It's where Jesus stood from the moment he was born.

I am asking you to wake up this Advent season. Open your eyes. See the deep darkness of this world. Open your ears. Hear the weeping of all of the Rachels whose children are no more. Let yourself feel it deeply. It's not time to sit back and watch. It is time to stand up.

The Christmas story leaves us with this question of allegiance. Where will you stand? With the powerful or the One born on the margins?

Remember, as we fill our world with Christmas lights and reflect on the birth of Jesus this season, that "we do the Light a disservice when we underestimate the darkness." (Christena Cleveland)

I pray that you step into this world's heavy darkness so that you feel the deep, desperate hope that Jesus came here to be.

For heavy hearts.

Recently, I've been heavy with the weight of the hurt and pain I see around me. In the people I know and share life with. In the neighborhood and city I've come to love. In my church family. In the little faces that have pieces of my heart.

I find myself heavy over pains that aren't mine. Crying over injustices I have not been the victim of. Feeling all of these hurts that weren't meant for me. Pleading on behalf of circumstances I seem to have nothing to do with. And I've been asking God "Why?" a whole lot recently. Why do people get cancer and brain tumors? Why are kids abused? Why do people commit suicide and people are left with empty hearts? Why are there so many unloved orphans? Why do people have to be homeless and turned aside because of it? Why do girls get sold into sex slavery everyday? Why do ladies walk our streets at night? Why?.. And where, God, are You in all of that?

I was praying with a heavy heart the other day and crying out to God saying, "I feel all of this weight and hurt and pain, but God, I don't feel You." And in that, I heard his response. "That is me. When you feel all of those hurts and pains; when you cry over the brokenness of this world. There?.. That's where I am. It's just a different piece of me. I am with you. I cry alongside you. Your heart is starting to line up with mine and in that you will feel these pains deeper than you ever have. But I am there."

I don't have any answers. But I believe this weight I feel is actually good. I think I'm making a transition from being broken for the people around me to being broken with them. That's what the incarnation is all about, isn't it? Sharing in each others pains and burdens. Breaking alongside each other. It's what he came here to do for us. I don't know why terrible things happen. I don't think I ever will. But as I pray, "Break my heart for what breaks Yours." I should expect to be broken. With others, with my own brokenness, and with my God. But the beauty is that he is there in the brokenness, longing to fill every crack, this broken world has caused, with his glory.

May we be people who have hope through the pain and disappointments of life, for he is right alongside us.
I don't know why, but maybe that's the wrong question to be asking.

"That which tears open our souls, those holes that splatter our sight, may actually become the thin, open places to see through the mess of this place to the heart-aching beauty beyond. To Him. To the God whom we endlessly crave."

- Ann Voscamp

May we be people who see the heart-aching beauty beyond.