Something occurred to me yesterday, as I was trying to salvage our beaten-up outdoor nativity scene . . . this feels familiar. Yes, familiar in that we have done this before, but also that this lighted Christmas representation is now looking like an accurate representation of my own faith. In that moment, it was a little humbling to relate my personal faith to this nativity that is held up by redneck magic of countless zip ties and stakes. But these are the weird ways that God often gets my attention.
We had considered scrapping it this year – I mean, most of the original lights have gone out and we’ve had to zip tie other strands to it. The wire is warped, the sparkle worn off, the fabric torn. When it came to us, the box looked like an elephant had used it for a stool, so I was kind of amazed it ever worked in the first place. Now we’ve had it for probably a decade and it’s still going. We no longer display it along the busy street because it’s so janky, but we still enjoy it in the back yard. Looks pretty bad in the light of day, but still shines in the darkness.
And all of that reminded me of faith. I’ve considered scrapping it a few times (not God per se, but religion and all the trappings), but there’s just enough there to compel me to keep working at it. The “shiny,” certain, victorious faith of my youth has worn off, and a lot of the original stuff no longer works. Doctrines have been bent, broken, torn and reworked. I no longer hold up my faith has something to display (ugh, I can’t believe I ever did!), but I remain inspired and filled with joy at the daily discoveries and beauty that faith affords. And most importantly, faith (in whatever shoddy form) still shines in the darkness. When faith matters most – when life seems dark, when I am tempted to be cynical or wring my hands about the world around us – faith brings the light. It doesn’t dispel the darkness, but it provides enough light to give hope and to remind me of Love that never gives up.
I wish that some glorious, grand light display reminded me of my faith. But no, it’s my beloved, warped, unstable, tattered old nativity that has been relegated to the back yard. In the daylight, I keep thinking it’s time for a replacement, but at nighttime, I only see the warm light and am reminded once again of Jesus and His ever-present, everlasting love.
Merry Christmas! May God infiltrate the mundane and show up in the dregs; may joy surprise you; may hope be impossible to contain; may Love get in your way.
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Great example about how God surprises us with joy and hope from things that we see as torn and tattered. Since God is often referred to as “Light” His glory can be seen in a worn out Nativity scene. God is good at taking old things and making them new. At my age I still have hope that his old worn out body will be resurrected into something special. Until then, Let’s shine.
Thanks Dad! You are still shining bright!