It is just a few days until Christmas. From my office window I can see the rain blowing in horizontal sheets, virtually assuring me that a Seattle white Christmas will only come in shades of gray. If I’m not careful I could slip into a real seasonal attitude disorder.

I have to admit that for the past few decades I’ve spent much of the season on a search for Christmas spirit. One year I dragged my family to well over ten Christmas shows performed by various churches and community groups. They were described as “multi-media,” “fast-moving,” “rocking and jiving” and even a “hip-hop Christmas experience.” I observed spotlighted dancers, rocking drummer boys, video productions, light shows, and dry-ice induced smoke puffs from which emerged angels and snow queens.  I always left feeling surprisingly hollow.

I’m a Boomer, so I grew up in those idyllic Leave it to Beaver years. I have vivid childhood memories of pageants where we re-enacted the Christmas story. Costumed young teens portrayed the holy parents and little children in oversized bathrobes mimicked the shepherds who had been watching their flocks by night. Burger King crowns and Avon bubble bath bottles accessorized the three kings. And preschoolers in glittered angel wings jumped on one foot and then the other to catch the eye of a doting parent. The whole experience seemed so real, so touchable, and so incarnate.

Later, as a young pastor’s wife, I directed numerous Christmas programs. In so doing, I secured the coveted roles of Mary and Joseph for my own kids. Once we had to rescue my daughter from a near fall off a real donkey spooked by the luminaries lighting the way to the stable! I’ve laughed and cried over the Best Christmas Pageant Ever because it is so real!

Now at midlife, my heart feels like an empty manger lined with rough and overused straw. I’m not entirely “old-school” and, in most seasons, I embrace the new worship styles and join in with the energetic expressions of praise. But I confess that I struggle to find triumphant joy or peace and goodwill in over stimulating multi-media presentations.

Recently something changed. As I left what I thought to be a rather raucous service, I took the back hallway for my exit. And there, abandoned in the dark corridor, sat an almost life-size crèche. Mary and Joseph were huddled around the manger and a little ceramic baby Jesus wrapped in swaddling clothes looked up at them. I paused. I gently touched the well-worn figure. I slowly realized that at last I discovered what was missing in the show, and for that matter, in my calloused heart. It was the baby Jesus.  He wasn’t in the middle of the noise or production. He was in the quiet of a forsaken corner, waiting to be noticed. Waiting to be brought on stage. Waiting quietly to come to a noisy world and bring peace, comfort and joy.

How is your Christmas search going? Have you found the baby Jesus in the midst of the chaos? You may have been in the church for years, or you may have never met Christ personally. I’m here to tell you the good news: He truly is quietly waiting to be brought on to the stage of your life.

Be near me Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay…..

By Leona Bergstrom, Director, Re-Ignite

Manger photo courtesy of  StinkiePinkie/Flickr