Luke's version of the Christmas story
invites us to turn our attention
to the embodiment of Christ
in the untidy ordinary:
a baby born in back-water Bethlehem,
a poor family shivering in subpar accommodations,
a stable, cows, pigeons, manure,
uncertainty, chaos, anxiety.
Sure, angels made the brief and flashy pronouncement,
but then directed the shepherds [unkempt, lowly!]
not to a temple to pray,
nor a cathedral to sit in hushed silence,
but to this strange, impoverished setting:
earth, not heaven,
you and me, not angels,
this kitchen table, not a sanctuary.
The truest incarnation
is apparently the lowliest:
here, now,
without, within,
painful, like childbirth,
then relief, joy,
and once again,
the newborn Christ.
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