Grace Notes: Crèche’s humble setting reveals where to find God today
I’m fascinated by crèches, maybe because the one I have is, well, somewhat different.
You see, my husband put the stable together from scraps of wood a few years ago, but to this day, the scene still lacks the essential figures you’d expect to see, such as the parents and the baby.
Still, something about the rough-hewed dwelling draws me back to the Nativity scene so long ago.
I find myself wondering why God came into the world as a helpless baby. Surely he could have come as a mighty, full-grown king.
Also, I find it puzzling that the one called the savior of the world, whose arrival the prophets foretold, chose such a wretched place to be born. Why would his first bed be a manger, a place where shepherds fed animals?
After all, if this baby boy was indeed God, it’s easy to imagine him being born in a sumptuous setting, perhaps a splendid castle. There would surely be servants rushing around to help with the birth, then wrapping the child in the finest silken garments and placing him in a luxurious bed.
The whole thing doesn’t make sense, and yet it makes perfect sense. You see, I think the crèche reveals the surprising message Christ brought to the world.
Although he was God incarnate, he never presented himself as a king, and he lived humbly with very few frills. Instead of saying rich people were God’s favorites, he warned his friends that wealth could stand in the way of salvation. And instead of describing himself as strong, he preferred “meek and mild.”
Rather than waiting to be served, he waited upon others, and rather than dining with the posh and polished crowd, he preferred the company of outcasts.
I think God coming to the world as a baby reveals his love for those who are helpless and dependent on others, as little ones are. And it reminds us we all rely on God for everything from our daily bread to our every breath.
As for the down-to-earth setting of Christ’s birthplace, it tells us God has a special place in his heart for the poor and weak and lowly.
It also gives us a clue about where to find God today -- and it’s in a strange place indeed.
We should look for him not in mighty mansions but in sheds and shacks, not in power but in poverty.
We should seek him in the faces of starving children and in people who are broken-down and bedraggled.
True, some might protest that Christ was born in a place that was not fit for God. But God has a way of turning our expectations upside down. He’s good at surprises.
And the humble crèche invites us to seek God in unexpected places and in unfamiliar faces. Turns out, God knew exactly what he was doing -- and the simple stable was the perfect setting after all.
Lorraine V. Murray’s latest books include a biography of Catholic writer Flannery O’Connor, “The Abbess of Andalusia,” and her second mystery, “Death of a Liturgist.” Her email is lorrainevmurray@yahoo.com
