EDITORIAL: Divine surprise: Think outside the crib
What was God thinking?
The world was a rambunctious, rancorous, rancid mess. And God sent a baby to do what everybody else thought should be a king’s job.
Unless you were a senator in Rome, a scholar in Alexandria or a member of the Sanhedrin in Jerusalem, the world was a pretty rough place a little more than 2,000 years ago. By today’s standards—even economic recession standards—those people had it bad.
Take the Jews, for example. The stars of the Old Testament. God’s “chosen people.” But by this time, the mighty had fallen. Once considered—in their own minds, at least—the preeminent nation on Earth, they had been relegated to a dusty outpost astride a modest trade route in the Roman empire. Foreign troops occupied their land. Their economy bobbed along unproductively. Government at every level took advantage of them. They had virtually no middle class, with a chasm between upper and lower classes. They hadn’t even heard any decent preaching in 400 years.
Now, if you or I were going to fix this mess, we would start by sending brigades of elite special forces to throw out the occupying army. We would call in our Council of Economic Advisers to jump-start business, pump up the tourist and convention trade, and recapitalize the central bank. We would commission ambassadors to write new treaties with neighboring countries and put a trade czar in charge of drumming up reciprocal relationships with craftspeople from Asia to Gaul. We’d dispatch a healthy Billy Graham to preach a great revival. And, for sure, we would elect the wisest, strongest, most experienced warrior/CEO/politician to manage all the redevelopment.
But God sent a baby. Of course, Jesus was no ordinary baby. But the Bible says he was as fully human as he was fully divine. So, he was a baby, just the same.
Leave it to God to think outside the crib. No conventional political or commercial wisdom for the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob (who, come to think of it, weren’t exactly the prototypical nation-building patriarchs you’d choose if you were hiring for the job).
No, God took on the shape and substance of a baby to turn the world upside down. Before Jesus ever left heaven for the limitations of infancy, he knew how this would turn out. Of course, Jesus the holy baby probably didn’t know it, but the eternal Jesus, the Word who spoke the world into being, understood the life that baby would lead. Rejection, suffering and misunderstanding. Forsakenness, heartache and persecution. Sure, this week and next, we will romanticize Christmas and the Christ Child. But back then, patience, love and sacrifice were his weapons of choice against a world gone wickedly wrong. Redemption, not revenge, was his plan.
I grew up in a family who loved Christmas surprises. In fact, surprise was the valued variable in our gift-giving equation. No peeking; you had to be surprised on Christmas morning. As an adult, I look back and think we were onto something: Surprise as a metaphor for God’s response to all Earth’s heartache. God sprung a surprise on the whole world that first Christmas. The Jews wanted a big, burly Messiah. God sent a baby from a poor family. Surprise.
A little more than 2,000 years later, the world seems even more messed up now than it was back then. Despite our progress, despair is having its day. The gulf between rich and poor is greater. The tyranny of despots is even more ferocious. The gap between wish and hope seems almost beyond reaching.
So now we wait for Christmas on a violent, forlorn planet, near the end of one of the hardest years in memory. Let us expect surprises from God. We can’t plan them or manipulate them. Most likely, we won’t understand them. We merely accept them, love them and “faith” them.
This Christmas, we sorely need divine surprises.