This morning, Christmas Eve, I had a divine appointment with an empty beer can.
I don’t normally come into work on Saturday mornings, but then again this has not been an average week. My schedule has been rearranged and thrown topsy turvy by all sorts of seasonal excitement. My nights have been late working in “Santa’s Workshop” and the mornings have been early thanks to a double ear infection in my youngest.
For some reason when I got into my car this Christmas Eve morning I opted out of Christmas music on the iPod and went for some Mumford & Sons. The driving bluegrass folk rock does nice things to my psyche and their lyrical content is amazing. But I digress.
Dawn was still breaking, the trees were bare and the chilly 24 degrees was just enough to remind your lungs why most stay indoors this time of year. The ride was very quiet as most people are still shaking off the cobwebs.
As I drove into Hawley I saw it. In the middle of the road there was an empty beer can rolling around haplessly back and forth submitted to the will of the car drafts that were pushing it.
I wondered who had the drink that came before the discard. Why would they discard and pollute the planet, the carelessness of possibly drinking and driving. What sadness grips a person to drown in substances that destroys? Then my ear turned to the music I was listening to. The haunting melody played the perfect soundtrack for what I was seeing:
And there will come a time
You’ll see
With no more tears
And love will not break your heart
But dismiss your fears
Get over your hill and see what you find there
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair
All of a sudden, I felt like was punched in the chest and was overcome by the sense that what I was experiencing was something far bigger than myself, my day, my Christmas. I was experiencing something holy.
I was blindsided by the reality of what we celebrate as Christmas. I always know-but there is a big difference between head and heart knowledge.
This was for the heart.
As I thought about the empty beer can, the image of Jesus as a baby in the manger penetrated my heart: discarded and unknown to all except a few first century peasants. His obscure birth and humble life were all intentional and part of the design for us to experience the divine.
Christ came for the obscure and discarded to bring them joy. And when I say joy I mean what is described in the aforementioned lyrics. Who would not want to leave the pain that brings about tears? To possess a love that does not break your heart, but dismisses your fears.
This is not something reserved just for people who can afford it but the humble birth of Jesus shows that God seeks out all. It is a gift that feeds a deeper part of the soul than any physical object or possession. So as you celebrate tonight and tomorrow I ask you to just step away.
Make time to step away.
Grasp at something that goes beyond what will come and go. Reach for the eternal who has become a centerpiece of this season. Don’t let it be just a gentle decoration see off to the side of a party. But let it be a deep truth.
Christ comes to feed and enrich the deepest parts of the human soul. To bring us back to the divine. To show us real love.
