A traditional part of our family’s Christmas celebration is an Advent calendar. The first time I bought one was at a German deli about 30 years ago. If you haven’t seen one, they are a cross between a jigsaw puzzle and a box of chocolates. Printed on the front is a large picture of something portraying the Christmas season. This year the calendars I purchased have a picture that resembles the “Whos” gathering around the Christmas tree in Dr. Seuss’s “Whoville” on Christmas day. Then, spread over the larger picture are smaller segments of the picture that stand as pictures on their own with a face, tree, balloon, ornament, etc. Over these smaller pictures, a number is printed for each of the 24 days of December leading up to Christmas. These dates cover perforated cardboard openings that one pries open and act like a hinged door—and here is the best part—behind each door/portrait/number is a piece of chocolate! So, today, I opened door 4 and found a piece of chocolate formed in the shape of a poinsettia leaf. What a great excuse to eat chocolate.

The Advent season itself is part of a greater whole. What I mean is that the story of Christmas does not stand alone. It is what the postmodern philosopher Jean-Francois Lyotard might label as a petit narrative, or at least the stories of Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, etc. who had their personal stories. Lyotard promoted the idea that there are no overarching stories in life that explain everything—what he called metanarratives. He said that petit narratives are all that matter. He thought that only individual’s stories give explanation for life. I disagree. That kind of relativism came about as a reaction to failed or abusive metanarratives like Marxism, Darwinism, or abusive false religions--even cults claiming to be Christian. While I can understand rejecting false metanarratives—like the idea that science can explain everything—I am not willing to make the leap that there is no such thing as an overarching story that gives meaning to everything.

The story of Advent is part of a greater story, an overarching story of a good Creator who created a good world and partnered with humans to make it even better. But in order to have freedom—freedom to love or freedom not to love—the Creator gave humans the power to choose. Unfortunately, humans chose wrong. They believed a lie. But the Creator did not give up on His creation—none of it. When God pronounced each part of His creation as good—the universe, the stars, planets, and moons; the earth; the oceans, the land; the mountains; the birds; the fish; the land animals and finally humans—He never backed off of His commitment to His creation.

So, even though humans goofed up the plan, God chose a nation to spread His light and love through creation, but they also failed. Then, this good God came in person to save His creation and make sure that His ambition to be with His creation in relationship forever would be accomplished. This is what we celebrate at Advent. This is the grand metanarrative I believe explains and gives meaning to my life and everything and everyone else. God is a good God and I expect to meet Him someday face to face and spend eternity with Him.

I reject Lyotard’s idea. There is a great story, and you and I are a part of it, whether we choose to accept it or make the foolish choice to reject it. I hope you will take the leap of faith and accept it--accept Him. I have, and with all the regrets I may have, accepting the truth of the story of the Bible is something I’ve never regretted. Plus, I love happy endings. The story that God so loved the world (in Greek kosmos--all creation) that He sent His son to take the death sentence Adam and Eve earned is a story of the good God who loves and is totally committed to be in relationship with you and me. “And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Rev. 21:3-4 ESV)

C.S. Lewis labeled the Incarnation "the Grand Miracle." He wrote: "The central miracle asserted by Christians is the Incarnation.... Every other miracle prepares for this, or exhibits this, or results from this.... It was the central event in the history of the Earth—the very thing that the whole story has been about" (Miracles, chapter 14).

Most people would say the grandest miracle was something else … blind Bartimaeus, curing leprosy, raising Lazarus from the dead, or Jesus’ resurrection. But as Lewis points out, all other miracles either paved the way for this or happened as a result of the Incarnation.

Can you imagine the anticipation of the angels as they waited for God’s directive to go to the shepherds in the field outside Bethlehem to make that glorious announcement? From the time Gabriel made his statement to Mary all of heaven must have been abuzz with anticipation. My imagination runs a little wild when I think about a bunch of crusty shepherds tending their flocks one cold desert night. It was a clear night in the desert, so they were probably grousing about the chilly weather as so many workers tend to do on the second-shift outdoors. I can also imagine the stunned silence when the angels appeared to them. Every account in the Bible where an angel appears there seems to be terror. No kidding. When a giant creature comes out of nowhere with a glowing white garment it would tend to terrorize. But imagine a “host” of them coming out of nowhere on a dark desert night! I can imagine an innumerable multitude populating every hill surrounding them. Then, the announcement: “Why are you standing here dumbfounded? Go see the baby-Savior!” Then, as quickly as they appeared, they disappeared.

Inexplicably, they took off toward the a stable on the edge of the village and upon arrival could do nothing but bow before the infant-king. I love the understatement of the account in Luke 2: 16 And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger. I think “they went with haste” is hilarious. I can imagine them gathering up their robes and sprinting!

When we stop thinking of the shepherds, Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus, and the stable as a cute nativity set with everything in miniature, our imagination is free to think about the awesomeness of the scene. Truly, at that moment—at this moment—when considering the “grand miracle” the only reasonable thing to do is bow before the king in worship and join in the chorus: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace and goodwill among men.”

The story of Jesus’ birth was not a neatly packaged holiday tale like one would see on a Hallmark holiday special. This story is full of details that are anything but tidy. An unwed pregnancy at that time and in that culture was not just socially unacceptable—it was dangerous. The long trip to Bethlehem—at a cost the young couple could ill afford was financially overwhelming. The birth of the baby without a home, a doctor, or a sanitary natal-care unit was physically hazardous. Then, after surmounting those obstacles, they must go into exile to Egypt to escape the jealousy and neurosis of Herod which must have been emotionally wrenching at the very least. Some Christians I know today would say that these things could not be God’s will because “they just don’t have a peace about all the trouble.” Yet the Bible says that it was in the fullness of time—meaning the exact right time—that God sent forth His son.

Most of us have asked for a miracle—pled with God to intervene in a situation and redirect circumstances. But miracles can be messy. When they come they are violent. Not violent always in the sense we make think. What I mean is that they violate the status quo. So even when miracles result in peace the beginning may look a bit messy. The violence of the world stands in stark contrast to the way of Jesus—the Prince of Peace. When will we become the People of Peace?

The prophet Isaiah foresaw a day when “they will hammer their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks…Never again will they learn war.” Isaiah 2:4 Weapons become farming implements. Violence will cease. But before that peace comes, violence must be done to the chaos and evil of this world. That is why Jesus said during His ministry “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” (Mt. 10:34)

How can Jesus be the Prince of Peace and make a statement like that? To bring real peace—real shalom—the present kingdom of darkness must be overthrown by the kingdom of light. A statement Jesus made after His resurrection to the disciples gives us a clue as to how this will happen. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.” And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. (John 20:21-22)

The Incarnation is about God on a mission. He means to restore His image-bearers and defeat the powers of darkness and He means to use us in the process. God became one with us by incarnation that we might become one with Him by the Spirit’s incorporation. And being one with God relationally we cannot help but be missional like God. Miracles are messy because they change the status quo. Lord, may we be messy peacemakers—shalom-bringers—image bearers. May the forces of darkness shudder when a peacemaker draws near just as the legion of demons cried out in the Gadarene demoniac when Jesus appeared on the other side of the lake in area of the dead—the tombs. May we have the fortitude to imitate Jesus and be a troublemaking peacemaker. What a glorious paradox. Miracles are messy. Lord send a miracle anyway! Your kingdom come, Your will be done.

And Mary said, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” Luke 1:38
Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. Philippians 2:5-7

The “Yes” of Jesus
The coming of God in-the-flesh began with a “yes.” It is true that Mary said “yes” to Gabriel which is an amazing display of childlike faith. Mary’s “yes” was not the first “yes” required for the Incarnation to take place however. It is important to remember that Creation and the Incarnation are inextricable. God’s commitment of Himself to this finite and fragile creation is a first act of self-humiliation on God’s part—an act continued in His descent into flesh, reaching its pinnacle in Christ’s self-surrender to death on the cross. “The Lamb slain from the foundation of the world” (Rev. 13:8) reveals there was already a cross in the heart of God before the world was created. Thus, the plan for God to be a human was a Trinitarian plan. The Father loved and sent, the Son humbled himself and came, and the Spirit conceived and empowered.

The “Yes” of Mary
In the Greek text, Gabriel speaks 118 words, whereas Mary utters only 17. This disproportion may be due to the enormity of the announcement, but it also seems to highlight Mary’s submission. It is simple obedience. In essence, after the enormity of the implications of Gabriel hits Mary, she simply says “so be it.”

The Upshot
The combination of Jesus’ “yes” and Mary’s “yes” are the reason we have hope. Without the incarnation—without Jesus doing what Adam as an individual and Israel as a nation did not do—we would be stuck in our mess. Instead, we have hope. It must be noted that the “yesses” of Jesus and Mary are not based in contractual or legal terms—they are based in relationship. The very life of Jesus is not simply about transactions. His actions proceed from His being, not the other way around. It must be at the top of one’s mind continually that the Incarnation, Ministry, Atonement, Resurrection and other events in the life of Jesus are mysteries of His being, not simply transactions—even the atonement. Jesus as YHWH en-fleshed, is “I Am-ing”— not transacting. The narrative shows Jesus being the Redeemer, not doing redemption. Jesus’ “I Am” sayings in John’s gospel demonstrate this claim. Irenaeus would say that Mary’s delivery of Jesus from her womb delivers humans, not something He did later.

In His birth, the births of all humanity are recapitulated. And in His circumcision all humans are afforded the opportunity to become a Jew. (Col. 2:11) Likewise, in His baptism, temptation, cross, and resurrection, Jesus recapitulates the failures of humanity and turns them into triumph by being God in flesh. And now, Jesus shows us what it is like to live in a glorified human body—the first fruits of the resurrection—because the most amazing thing about the Incarnation to me is that when the Godhead decided the Word would become flesh—it was a forever decision. Jesus never stopped being God, but He has also never stopped being human. He died as a human, was resurrected as a human, ascended as a human, sat down after the finished work as a human, and is coming back as the God-man. When YHWH put on skin, He kept it on. Amazing. May you have a blessed Advent season.