Our Iraqi Christmas
It’s just us sitting here, Lord, together with lots of guns, some glory, and each with a longing to feel more of what we are feeling now in this place. We are searching for meaning in a seemingly meaningless place; longing for a spot of quiet in the unending noise of life. We want to hear church bells instead of booming guns and unfamiliar language. We want to sleep through the night without waking.
I wonder sometimes if Mary and Joseph had a quiet time during the birth of Christianity. Did car bombs wake their newborn baby? Did the Prince of Peace sleep through the night? Were there shouts from the marketplace? Were there generators and trucks downshifting past the stable? What were the noises of Jesus’ day? Did the donkey bray too loudly? Did He wake, crying, or did He smile, knowing? I wonder.
I wonder, like the wristband says, what Jesus would do. I wonder what he would think about us, here, each for different reasons, with all of our different desires. I wonder how he would talk to us; what would he look like; what would he say. Maybe he looks like everybody else here in the street. Maybe his name is Muthena, or Ali, or Sarah, or Ibtesam, or even Mohammed. I wonder.
I wonder how many sacrifices must be made before everyone realizes that it is Jesus, and the faithful, who are dying everyday, not just busses exploding or the shattering of humvee windshields and far too many young lives. I wonder. How would I recognize Him? What would She look like? If He was wounded, and I tried to help Him, would I be punished if I couldn’t? I wonder.
Then I realize the full truth of Christianity, and the ultimate difference between all religions of the world and the extreme beliefs of the few: it just doesn’t matter what we do, it doesn’t matter if we try and fail. In Christianity what matters is not the result, but the trying, the striving, the example we set.
God sent His Son to Earth with the full knowledge of the mission. He knew His Son would be crucified, and He accepted that as a small price to pay for correcting mankind’s errant ways and wicked behaviors.
We know it, too. We know, deep down inside, that God wants us to be here. Not for money, not for politics, not only for each other. He wants us here as an example; a light for the world. Joseph and Mary smiled that night, as the Son of God came into the world of Christianity. The Wise Men brought gifts, not poisoned drinks, or car bombs. The message of Jesus’ life in the world is not anger, or fighting, but living together, striving together, living. Not suffering, or violence, or death.
The message of Jesus’ coming into our world is as valid and fresh today as it was 2,000 years ago. That message is compassion, love, empathy, and forgiveness. For you, and Muthena, and Ali, and Ibtesam, and Sarah, and even Mohammed. Be the message. That is what the Messenger, the Messiah, wants from each of you.
Peace, and Merry Christmas.
I wonder sometimes if Mary and Joseph had a quiet time during the birth of Christianity. Did car bombs wake their newborn baby? Did the Prince of Peace sleep through the night? Were there shouts from the marketplace? Were there generators and trucks downshifting past the stable? What were the noises of Jesus’ day? Did the donkey bray too loudly? Did He wake, crying, or did He smile, knowing? I wonder.
I wonder, like the wristband says, what Jesus would do. I wonder what he would think about us, here, each for different reasons, with all of our different desires. I wonder how he would talk to us; what would he look like; what would he say. Maybe he looks like everybody else here in the street. Maybe his name is Muthena, or Ali, or Sarah, or Ibtesam, or even Mohammed. I wonder.
I wonder how many sacrifices must be made before everyone realizes that it is Jesus, and the faithful, who are dying everyday, not just busses exploding or the shattering of humvee windshields and far too many young lives. I wonder. How would I recognize Him? What would She look like? If He was wounded, and I tried to help Him, would I be punished if I couldn’t? I wonder.
Then I realize the full truth of Christianity, and the ultimate difference between all religions of the world and the extreme beliefs of the few: it just doesn’t matter what we do, it doesn’t matter if we try and fail. In Christianity what matters is not the result, but the trying, the striving, the example we set.
God sent His Son to Earth with the full knowledge of the mission. He knew His Son would be crucified, and He accepted that as a small price to pay for correcting mankind’s errant ways and wicked behaviors.
We know it, too. We know, deep down inside, that God wants us to be here. Not for money, not for politics, not only for each other. He wants us here as an example; a light for the world. Joseph and Mary smiled that night, as the Son of God came into the world of Christianity. The Wise Men brought gifts, not poisoned drinks, or car bombs. The message of Jesus’ life in the world is not anger, or fighting, but living together, striving together, living. Not suffering, or violence, or death.
The message of Jesus’ coming into our world is as valid and fresh today as it was 2,000 years ago. That message is compassion, love, empathy, and forgiveness. For you, and Muthena, and Ali, and Ibtesam, and Sarah, and even Mohammed. Be the message. That is what the Messenger, the Messiah, wants from each of you.
Peace, and Merry Christmas.
posted by tomk at 8:14 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home