Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way.
So here we sit in the midst of Lent, in the midst of this pandemic, and in the appointed readings for Morning Prayer, we hear about the birth of Jesus. My first reaction was, “Really? Now?”
And yes. Really. Now. Now more than ever. To protect the least among us, we are self-isolating. We are drastically changing the way we worship. Our Lenten discipline has all of a sudden gotten very real. What are you giving up for Lent? Community. Church. Togetherness. Tough stuff. A Lenten spiritual practice is designed to bring you closer to God, better understand yourself and your relationship with God. It’s not about giving up chocolate, or something we want to give up.
So we give up corporate worship, and fellowship. How in the middle of that can we find good news?
Because Jesus came in the middle of the night, to a homeless refugee in a strange land, in their barn. Jesus knew darkness, and hard things. Think about how his earthly life ended! But Jesus was the ultimate of light. He brought light wherever he went, whatever he did. He was able to be loving, and merciful, even in horrid situations. From the cross, he prayed, Forgive them Lord. They know not what they do.
As incongruous as Jesus’ birth narrative is in these dark times, we need it. Especially because of these dark times. Darkness cannot overpower the light.
This morning, I’m thinking about God coming into the dark world in the form of a helpless infant. We need to remember Jesus’ life, how it wasn’t all roses and sunshine. And we need to remember that through Jesus, God brought unbelievable and yet very relatable light and mercy and love.
Today, I hope to reflect some of that light, in these weird times.
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