The "Just Enough" Invitation of Christmas
God's humble nearness, the shepherds' story, and the formation of worshipers
I’ve enjoyed getting responses from you over the past week on some of the mini-essay’s I’ve sent out. I might post a couple more coming before the New Year, but I wanted to pause over Christmas. Instead, I want to share with you the gentle invitation I’ve been meditating on.
Setting the scene for nearness
One of my favorite parts of the gospel is how God came near to us in the most humble and relatable ways—as an infant born of pain, water, and blood. The scene was set among animals in a repurposed feeding trough. He came near to humankind a colonized land among an oppressed people, where he’d soon flee with his family from horrific violence as a refugee.
The characters of the story were determined only by their willingness to play a part. Young Mary played a role, as well as her elders—Elizabeth, Anna, and Simeon. An honored priest, Zachariah is in the story. But so is Joseph, a craftsman in the small hicksville of Nazarath. And both the wealthy magi and the undervalued shepherds were invited to welcome him.
The shepherds’ story
I’ve always loved the scene in the Christmas story where the Shepherds are overtaken by a heavenly host (Luke 2:8-20). Some suppose the messenger was a “rando” that suddenly and creepily appeared in the shepherds’ campsite. Others imagine a glorious cloud of brightly shining faces. Many Christians depict this scene with strobing and singing spotlights. But what if this heavenly host actually looked like those fantastical cherubim, with an outrageous number of eyes, wings, and animal faces as they intoned their worship?
"Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth goodwill for all mankind."
Did the shepherds have their families with them? Were there just a handful of people? Or were there scores of campfires where they slept watching over their sheep? They were undoubtedly of a lower socioencomic station, but what else do we know about them?
Miracles do not demand attendance
What stands out most to me, though, was how surprisingly little they were told. It might have been a baby announcement, but it came with no address. The shepherds had to do some work if they were going to find the swaddled nearness of God, even in a small town.
“You will find him.” Was that foretelling? Or was this more akin to, “hey, just in case you want to find him, look for this?” Could we even call this an invitation? If anything, it was passive, open-ended, and gentle.
This incredible proclamation didn’t demand action. I wonder how many of the shepherds that night didn’t go searching for this anointed one. Even now there are plenty of us who’ve heard of the miraculous yet do not seek the source.
These shepherds, with such a role to play in the Christmas story, only had a minimal amount of information. But it was enough to pull them in.
The formation of worshipers
This is what I’ve experienced time and time again with God. He only gives us just enough to seek and find him. If we take action—wanting, looking, knocking, crying out, and pushing forward in trust through the darkest times—we do find him.
The shepherds were part of a family whose wait for the Messiah had been embodied for generations. No wonder many shepherds responded as if they were clearly invited to find and worship their long-awaited Anointed One.
The perseverance of hopeful longing forms us. It changes us into people who worship with a level of gratitude that might look ridiculous once we finally encounter God. Like in Jesus’ parables, we become the ones who’ve sold everything to buy the field and dig for its treasure. We are the ones who have swept in every corner to find the lost coin—rejoicing when we do. We don’t even mind pouring out our alabaster jars of ridiculously priceless perfume, in awe, on our knees.
And like the shepherds, from this place of formation and awe, we share the goodness we find as well. Even when it comes from the humblest of sources and is wildly unbelievable. But once we’ve experienced wonder, what else are we to do?
My prayer for you this Christmas is that you too respond to the “just enough” of an invitation to seek out the Emmanuel. I am confident you will encounter him if you do.
If you would like other Christmas season readings, here are three others that might meet you where you are.
Why Christmas Needs the King of Justice
Here was a powerful realization I had last week as I was reading Advent scriptures. I wrote about it at Patheos. It has been a focus of my worship today.
As I’ve been reading the prophecies about Jesus as the coming Messiah this holiday season, I’ve been struck by how rarely we use Jehovah Tsidkenu as a name for God, let alone as one to reflect on during Christmas. Yet, it seems we should.
Read this article here.
Magnificat
Multiple times in the past couple week’s I’ve pulled this version of Magnificat up to pray along with Mary’s prayer. I still need it just as much as I did then.
I felt akin to Mary in a way I never had the Christmas before last. I was at my lowest with an unwanted pregnancy, handicapped, and deathly ill. I was unsure if my baby or I would make it. Everything else was stripped away. The only thing I felt sure of was God, and even that was just a desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, he was near…
Read (or pray) it here.
Mary’s Yes and Our Good Judgement
To my surprise, “Mary’s Yes and Our Good Judgement” has been my most read article. I am not sure why. Probably because I’m not the only one who has struggled with decision-making anxiety under religion. Or maybe there is even a simpler reason—the Christmas story ignites wonder within us.
My daughter is sixteen. She might be the same age as Mary was when she gave birth to Jesus, if not a couple years older. Honestly, it really makes me rethink this whole virgin birth thing. In fact, it makes me wonder about my own teenage faith and ability to make judgments. Has the virgin birth provoked these thoughts for you, too?
Read it here.
I’m serious when I tell you the winning pool is small! Last I checked only fifteen people had entered. Choose one activity to do to enter here. (Your help is deeply appreciated, whether you leave some stars saying “I’ve read her other work so I am looking forward to this” on Amazon, or messaging your library. Thank you!)
You can find past posts visiting authenticallyelisa.substack.com
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See What’s New on my Patheos column: Flourishing Faith and Justice
Read the Rest of the 2024 Mini-Essay Series starting here
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