A
few years ago I was part of a large staff that afforded me a big,
cushy office. I had lots of wall space for posters – Jesus Died to
Take Away Your Sins, Not Your Minds – and the like.
These days, whenever I see a baby, I marvel. We were all once that size. We were all dependent upon someone to feed us and bathe us and change us and make sure we didn't suffocate or get sick or throw up too much. We were all completely dependent upon others for care and love. We were all that small. . . and through the Mystery of the Incarnation, so was God.
My
mind returns to that poster originally printed in 1938: who would
have been the Refugees who would have been aided through friendship,
interest, and/or gifts in 1938? Who would have been vulnerable in
1938? The world was on the brink of destruction. Humanity was acting
pretty far-from-human. As we break through the veil of Advent, we see
that Christ comes to us – in the form of the vulnerable – once
more.
Do I miss my big, cushy office? Some days, but on those days I like to think about that poster. Christ Jesus did his work in this world in an ordinary body, with ordinary people. God came to dwell with us in the most vulnerable way. When we encounter the vulnerable or when we ourselves are those vulnerable, we have the opportunity to see God, present in that relationship. What a gift to receive.
Merry Christmas.
This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on December 25, 2014. It has been reprinted here with permission.