Little Lord Jesus: A short story

“Isn’t it just adorable?” It was one of those questions like “When did you stop beating your wife?” I was trapped into the expected response. “Yeah.” Half-hearted but acceptable. My wife gave me a sort of “what’s the matter with you” look but let it pass. After all, I made it to the children’s Christmas play. All of these kids, mine included, dressed up like shepherds and kings and animals. And, of course, the plastic doll in the fake feeding trough.

Frankly, I never did get the significance. I mean, I believe in God. Don’t get me wrong. When I really think about Him (I’m not gender-corrected yet), I realize that He probably has some issues with things I’ve done. But I do my best. I try. I’m a decent husband, a good breadwinner and I love my kids. That’s why I show up at these events. But God as some helpless, crying baby? I don’t think so! I mean, I know what that’s like. I can’t even imagine God in diapers. It’s like some kind of bad joke. Maybe my wife wouldn’t say this, but I’m glad that the baby stage is long gone. We were both worn out when Rachel got colic. I don’t think there is a parent alive who could seriously believe God could be a baby.

Now that I think about it, I remember those Byzantine paintings. Baby Jesus wasn’t really a baby at all. Just a kind of miniature man. Maybe that’s what this really means. A sort of “symbol” of our own helplessness. After all, God is all powerful, right? He doesn’t need to pretend to be helpless. He can do anything. So, if He wants to make us think about helplessness, He could use the birth of some human being as a symbol for us to remember. That’s sensible. If God wants me to be a better person, then I suppose He wants me to recognize that I can’t do everything myself. So, a symbol of my dependence is a good reminder.

I sat through the play, concentrating on Rachel’s part. She was one of the shepherds. I had this odd thought about the gender correctness of girls as shepherds. Maybe it was all just a ritual so it really didn’t matter. Then it was over. Loud applause. In a few minutes Rachel was holding up her hand for mine.

“Did you like it, Daddy?”

“Sure, sweetheart. You were great. You did a good job.”

She beamed. I love her smile. Makes it all worthwhile.

“My Sunday School teacher told me that Jesus was born so that He could save us.” Rachel tugged on my sleeve. “Why?”

I felt like someone just kicked me. “Out of the mouth of babes” goes the saying. Suddenly I was on very shaky ground. Fortunately our neighbors making their way through the crowd distracted Rachel.

“So glad to see you here!” John put out his hand. I knew he was genuine. Couldn’t have asked for a nicer guy next door. He always seemed to be ready to lend a hand or loan a tool. I liked him.

Rachel and John’s girl Emily darted off into the throng. My wife was already engrossed in conversation with John’s wife.

“It’s great to see the kids enjoying the holiday,” John offered. “Sometimes I don’t think they really understand how incredible Christmas really is, but at least they’re learning the story.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” I tried not to be too open about the subject.

“There’s so much commercialism around Christmas these days. It’s really hard to keep the focus on Jesus’ birth. Helen and I try but it’s tough when every store and every ad on TV just makes it into a shopping spree.”

Suddenly the thought of a new putter popped into my head. I tried to push it aside.

“You know, it wasn’t too long ago that I thought Christmas was pretty much a big scam. I mean, I knew it was supposed to be about the birth of the Lord, but I just got so fed up with all the shopping and the obligations and the parties. One year we just went to Australia and sat on the beach. That was before Emily, of course.”

“I hear you.”

“I don’t think I would have ever got the real message if God hadn’t knocked me flat. That time in the hospital changed my life.”

“You told me you had cancer but you never told me the story. Was it bad?”

“If being told you’re gonna’ die is bad, then I guess it was right up there.” He grinned. He was completely at ease, no fears or anxieties. “When I got the news, I was crushed. I was only 36. How can a guy 36 years old get cancer? And I never smoked or anything. But there it was.”

“What happened?”

“Well, Helen knew this couple at the church here, and she told them and they said that they wanted to put me on the prayer list. I tell you someone from the church called us every day. And a lot of people came over to pray at the house. If I weren’t standing here today I wouldn’t believe it myself, but God healed me. The doctors couldn’t believe it. I mean in about a month, it was just all gone. I got the surgery. Got the scar to prove it. They scheduled me for chemo but when I went in for the scan before I started treatments, I was healed, man. They couldn’t find a thing.” John took a big breath. He smiled again.

“I knew it was God. So I started talking to the guys who were praying for me, and that’s when I learned who Jesus was for me. I gotta’ tell you; I’ve never been the same. Now I know what Christmas really means.”

“I never knew. Wow! I don’t think I could handle anything like that.”

“Yeah, I was in pretty bad shape at the beginning, but every time one of those guys came to pray with me, well, I just was at peace. I realized that God really cared about me. Actually, it was about this time of year. November, five years ago. Let me tell you, Christmas was really special that year. It has been ever since.”

“Just before you came up to me I was thinking, “What’s this all about anyway?”

“God has a funny way of timing things, doesn’t He?” John paused, measuring whether he should go on. “Christmas changed for me because I met Jesus. It’s like Rachel’s birthday. Somebody who doesn’t know Rachel doesn’t care about her birthday. But people who know her do care. And you love her, so her birthday is really special.”

That made some sense.

John almost chuckled. “Christmas is really God’s celebration of the birth of His son, and we get invited to the party. God loves Jesus a lot, so the party is pretty amazing. The more we love Jesus, the more his birthday means to us. But if you don’t really know him, it’s just someone else’s party. I think it’s all about getting an invitation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when God starts to work on your life, He invites you to the party. But the invitation comes with an RSVP. You’ve got to respond if you’re going to get it. Did you get your invitation?”

The crowd was breaking up and the wives were back, children in tow.

John leaned forward. “I’d be glad to talk more if you want. Got time for coffee tomorrow morning?”

“OK. Come on over about 9.”

“Great. See you.” John, Helen and Emily waved as they moved toward the door.

“What was all that about?” Rosanne slipped her hand under my arm.

“John told me he had cancer. He said God healed him. Pretty amazing.”

“Yes, it is. Helen told me the story a few months ago. She says it changed their lives. John is a completely different person.”

What he said made me curious. Birthday invitations. I wondered if I ever got one.

The next morning over the smell of coffee, toast and jam, I felt a little braver.

“I hope you don’t mind if I ask. Actually, it’s Rachel’s question. Maybe it’s mine too. I mean I can understand the symbol, new birth, starting over, all that. I even get the “peace on earth” stuff. With everything that’s messed up in this world, we need some peace. But I guess I never thought about Jesus as a real baby. It seems kinda’ inefficient to me. If God wants us to change so bad, why not just do some gigantic miracle so everyone would get it?”

“He did.”

That took me by surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Well, think about it. What’s a bigger miracle than Christmas? God gives up all that He is as God in order to become just like us, right down to being a helpless infant. That’s pretty miraculous. And pretty risky. You know what babies are like.”

“Yeah, OK, but not everybody believes what you just said. I mean, I think most people just don’t even really think about it. Beside, don’t you think God would have wanted to do something so spectacular that everyone would automatically believe?”

John had the infectious smile. “We make Christmas so predictable, so ordinary. Even in the church. We know the story so well we never think about what it must have really been like when it happened. The truth is that God surprised the whole world when Jesus was born. Everyone was looking for just what you said – the big splash. And God showed up in a stable. Want to know why? Because God wants you to decide. He isn’t going to make you do anything. You’ve got to decide for yourself. Remember what I said about an invitation. Well, Christmas comes with an RSVP. God gave the whole world an invitation, but every person has to RSVP.”

“In a lot of ways, we’ve taken the questions out of Christmas. Just imagine what it was like when it happened. Even if you saw it with your own eyes, you’d still have to decide if you believed it. After all, Jesus looked like just another baby. Mary is probably the only one who really knew. Everyone else had some room for doubt, just like you do now. But I’m pretty sure God intended it to be like that so we would have to make a choice. Cut through all the hype and ask yourself, “What does the birth of this child mean to me? What difference does it make for my life? Of course, if you really want to answer that question, then you’ll have to do some serious thinking. You might be surprised by what you find.”

“I got to admit that I never thought of God surprising the world. I guess if Jesus really is God’s Son, then there must have been a good reason for him to be born like he was.”

“Yeah, lots of good reasons.”

“So, where do I start? How do I send back my RSVP?”

“That’s the right question.”