To
be perfectly honest, I don’t believe there was another way to get our
attention. The Incarnation. We would
have never paid attention otherwise. God had to put on skin. Humans are
complicated and complex and I think that is what God loves about us. We are not
simple and rarely do we make things easy.
I kind of like to think that is why God invests so much in us. God loves a good challenge and humans are
challenging at best, even on our absolute best days: like Christmas eve, eve,
perhaps. And I am willing to bet that today God was putting on his best Dr. Phil voice and saying, "Let me know how that works out for you."
I am prone to making my life far more complicated than it
need be. Take this afternoon for
instance. About once a year, I become
delusional and fancy myself an accomplished baker. Usually this coincides with some major holiday that revolves
around 17 or so people coming to eat at my house. I can cook and I can bake but
it is probably not in my best interest or those of my guests to try out new
recipes. I should probably stick to
things I know how to bake. Like:
chocolate chip cookies or pound cake or pumpkin pie.
I love the seven caramel layer cake. Decided I would make one for Christmas
dinner. How hard could it be? I would
like to add, unless you have attended cooking school, don’t try this at home.
While, the cake itself (if you don’t mind baking seven layers), is easy
peasy to make, that frosting is wicked.
It is a boiled frosting and for those of you that don’t know, think
Julia Childs on her worst manic day, with that psychotic cat running around her
kitchen, jumping on everything and Julia drinking her second bottle of wine and
speaking that fake French and she left out the part about: it must be
buttermilk. Not cream, not
whole, not half and half, not evaporated, not 2%. Only buttermilk. This
frosting officially has taken me 27 hours to make. The recipe boasts that it can be made in less than 30 minutes and
that would be a lie. And if you think
you can substitute any other milk product in this recipe, think again.
And this of course, led me to the Food Lion incident and
thinking about Joseph and the prophet Isaiah and Mary and how much I miss my
friend Sarah at this time of year. I am
standing in the corner (did I mention corner?) of the aisle staring at the
seven different kinds of buttermilk, trying to decide which one I need. And to be honest, had I just gone ahead and
texted my friend Sarah instead of feeling sorry for myself, none of this would
have happened. I had no intention of
making a repeat trip and clearly from my previous attempts, perfection was
required. I guess it is remotely possible;
that I was taking too long to make up my mind, and I guess it is possible I
should have noticed the woman waiting (who waits for buttermilk anyway?) to get
her buttermilk and offered to move. But then she screamed at me and told me I
was in her way and to hurry up and then I sort of went postal, if the stares of
others mean anything. I shouted, (just
like the prophet Isaiah, I might add), “Really, are you kidding me? I hope
the love of Christmas finds your heart.”
Of course, everyone was staring at me, and then I
felt the need to defend myself, “She started it.”
Fuming, I stormed to the check out line with buttermilk in
hand. The gentleman behind me says, “Are you ready for Christmas?” At least I turned around at looked at
him. I may have smiled, I hope I did
and I hope I sounded as least hopeful as I said, “I think so.” And then I did manage to get out of my own
narcissistic spiral and ask, “How about you?”
He said with tears running down his face, “This year I will be
alone.” He went on to tell me about his
wife of 59 years, who had died four weeks earlier. And how many good memories he had and how blessed he had been to
love her and how much he missed her but he knew that in the end love trumps death. He went on to say that many people never
know a love like that and that his being sad just reinforced how much he loved
her. He also went on to say that life
is brief and fragile and we should just all be grateful and love each other.
After, I choked back tears, paid for my buttermilk and gave
him a big hug, suddenly I wasn’t so mad anymore and suddenly as if an angel of the Lord appeared before me: "Peace, Goodwill."
I thought about the words of Isaiah and Joseph and
Mary.
Those are perhaps the most gorgeous words for what we
celebrate this time of the year. That
text was written 700 years before the birth of Christ and we can forget it can
stand on its own without interpreting them through the eyes of Christmas. These words don’t take on meaning solely by
the message of Christmas. Isaiah’s
words offer powerful hope for those in darkness in any time, any place. Even in the aisle of Food Lion. And I
suspect my new friend already knows about this kind of peace. He would not have gotten out of bed today
otherwise. He would not find hope in love and he would not see hope beyond death if he didn't know.
God took a chance that night long ago. God decided the only way to get our
attention was to take on skin. It has
often been called the great mystery.
The Incarnation. I am not so
sure it matters much how it happened as much as us deciding to do something
with it. Sometimes I think that in my
less than holy moments, it is only then that God shows up. More often than not, I suspect I don’t see
him, but today I think I did. In
both encounters. How frustrating it
must be for God to wait on us to see what is sitting right in front of us like
seven different kinds of buttermilk and yet when God shows up in chance
encounters and love is spilling all over the aisle at Food Lion, we lie on a
backs like shepherds watching the night sky in awestruck.
And maybe the stars will shine brighter tonight, and maybe the skies won't be as dark as before and maybe tonight love is raining down on all the world tonight, it is what we all are praying for.
God is for us, God is with us, God is in us. Emmanuel.
All is grace,
Kathleen
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