It’s that time of year again! Where
nativity scenes take over the airwaves—little ones adorning the mantle-piece;
big, inflatable ones set out in the yard; even living ones complete with
spitting llamas and blue-lipped Joseph because it’s too stinking cold outside
to be holding this god-forsaken pose for three hours straight!
It’s
everywhere, a tableau, an image frozen in time and remembered every month of
December, reminding us of the historical moment that gave birth (pun intended) to
its reconstruction. I love nativity scenes because they tell a story—a really
extravagant story with vastly different characters holding vastly different
roles. And yet all of the characters and their respective lives converge, like
tributaries running to the sea, in this one, solitary scene. And it is a moment
we’ve captured in writing and live in, over and over, each year, when we reenact
it.
But
thinking about this reenacted moment, I was confronted by an obvious question
that I had never considered before. That being, do you realize how many
unnecessary characters are in this scene? In fact, there are even characters
not present who are crucial to the scene coming to be! I pose this obvious
question because it got me thinking of how it is God likes to work in our
world. I’ll give you a hint—it’s extravagantly, with a lot of unneeded excess.
Why? Because
that’s what Love does!
We see this
characteristic shining in the story of Jesus’ birth. So in
light (punned again!) of the Christmas season, I want to list all the characters related to the
story, just so you can get a glimpse that God’s ways aren’t ours. Whereas we
are all about the bottom-line, efficiency, limiting unneeded elements, God is
about throwing the most extravagant, wildest, most-talked-about party the world
has ever known—and you better believe everyone
is invited!
1.
Mary, Joseph (and eventually Jesus)—These are the only must-haves in the story, and truly,
if we’re being frank, Jesus is really the only must-must-have. God-made-flesh
was to be born, which of itself is unthinkable enough. Mary and Joseph weren’t
needed. God could’ve figured out another way to show up on the earth. Truly, if
our God was a practical God, an economic, efficient, bottom-line type of God, Jesus
would be the only character in the nativity scene. He’d just be standing there
with a full beard and a Paul Rudd look of nonchalance on his face like, “What’s
up guys. I’m here.”
But he wasn’t.
Because our God is an extravagant God. A God who loves as his primary state of being. And love requires more than one
person. So he elected to come through the messy, bloody, painful, but
oh-so-joyful process of birth. Which means he needed a surrogate, and a
righteous man who could put aside his pride and serve his betrothed with honor
and humility. The whole means by which Jesus showed up on earth was entirely
unnecessary! And it leaves us absolutely speechless at the goodness of
God.
2.
Angels and Shepherds—I group these two together because
they’re inseparable. God commissions the angels, thousands of them, to deliver
the news bursting from the seams of heaven, like water about to explode from an
over-filled balloon, that the Messiah had come! The King had been born and
light had returned into the land that had dwelt in darkness for so, mournfully
long. “Go! Tell them!” God exclaims. And so the angels go.
And who do they
tell, but the people God has a soft spot in his heart for—shepherds. God loves
the outcasts, the pariahs, those who society looks upon with a sneer and mocking
repulsion. Those who the world says are unlovable, these are the precise ones God
says, “Oh, how indescribably special you are to me!” Like shepherds.
God could’ve sent angels to tell anyone, and the rational candidates would be
the world leaders—Pharisees, King Herod, Caesar even—so as to make the
succession of lordship from the old power-holders to the new One as seamless as
possible. But no, God doesn’t care about power. He already knows it’s all his
anyway. He wanted to tell shepherds. God wanted to tell those who had
no hope that Hope had returned and that they, the last, were so favored and
honored by God that they received the good news first.
And the angels delivered
the message through song. Song is unnecessarily poetic. That’s our God.
3.
Wisemen and the Natural World—Just when you
think God only favors the outcasts, he halts that judgmentalism in its tracks.
Oh no, God’s extravagant love is for all people, regardless of how ordinary,
how powerful, how wretched or sinful or hungry they may be. The wisemen were
your intellectuals of the day, the philosophers, astronomers, physicists,
economists, political advisors, all rolled into one. They were brilliant and
they were sought out by kings and rulers alike. Yet also, they were trackers of
the divine. And God, in his sheer extravagance, had been leaving clues in the natural
world—like the alignment of planets and the over-illumination of stars,
which just so happened to rest above Jesus’ home. When I said earlier God’s joy
is bursting at the seams, I wasn’t playing. The stars in the sky were giving
away the secret! And brilliant intellectuals were catching on. So they
came too, to offer their gifts, recognizing the party that was about to be
thrown.
4.
Animals—This might seem like the ultimate waste
of God’s creative energy. Why would it be necessary for dumb beasts to be
present at the birth of Jesus? Well, simply, because Jesus created those
dumb beasts. Harkening back to another story about God’s extravagance,
he didn’t just choose to make humans in his world. No. God’s love and grace is
much bigger, wider, deeper than you and I. He made more species of plants and animals
than we could ever hope to discover. Think about that: there are species of animals on
this earth that no one knows about except for their Creator who takes care of
them. That’s our God. And that’s why animals were deemed worthy to
witness the birth of their Maker. Because God’s love is too extravagant to be
limited to humans alone; all the earth must know, must join into their Maker’s
joy—stars and sheep and spitting llamas too.
5.
Emperor
Augustus—If the animals were the ultimate example of God’s creative waste, then
Augustus
is the greatest example of God’s ironic humor. He’s not in the nativity
scene, but it was his decree that made it all possible. As we learn from
Matthew’s gospel, the Jews knew that the Messiah would come from Bethlehem.
Jesus had to be born in that town, the same place David hailed from. But
instead of simply telling Joseph and Mary to travel south from Nazareth to
Bethlehem (a very long journey), God decided to use the Emperor of Rome, the
most powerful man in the world at that time. We know this because it says in
Luke 2:1, “In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.” You
can’t call for all the world to be registered unless you’re the ruler of all
the world.
But that’s the
joke. Augustus isn’t the ruler of all
the world—even though he thinks he is. Jesus, the baby about to be born, and
through the bidding of God the Father, is the ruler of all the world.
And without telling Augustus, God had him nudge
the process along—the process of making sure Jesus’ birth fulfilled all
prophecies. If God was only a bottom-line type of God, he wouldn’t have used
the Emperor of Rome to make Joseph and Mary travel to Bethlehem. Gabriel
would’ve just mentioned it to Joseph in a dream when he spoke to him the first
time. But God is too extravagant—and too much of an ironic jokester. To
prove that he was the ruler of all the world, Jesus came as a baby (not a
powerful warrior), and he incited the “supposed” ruler of all the world to do
his bidding. Just to prove that all power and authority had always
been, and would always be, his alone.
So there you have
it. The characters of the nativity scene. Jesus being the only one necessary!
And yet, our God’s ways is to work through as many people (or animals, or stars)
as possible. Why is that?
Because our God is
an over-joyed, reckless Lover. He goes above and
beyond what is “needed” or “prudent” so as to do this. His name is Love. Love
is only so if it is the mutual selflessness, desire and joy found between
living beings. The reason the nativity scene is so big and wide and extravagant
is simply because that’s who our Maker is.
So the next time
you think, “Ah, God doesn’t need me,” take a look at a nativity scene. And as
your eyes are tracing over the various characters in that dingy, putrid stable,
keep in mind that you’re right! God doesn’t need you. But you can bet your last breath that he wants to include you. You can rest assured that you are
absolutely invited to his party. Because our God is an extravagant one.
And extravagance isn’t selfish. All are invited to the party. His entrance into
the world proves this.
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