Nearly a decade later, it’s still the story on the tip of my tongue and the image that instantly comes to mind when I think of Israel. There are others, of course, hundreds of places and moments and new-to-me things discovered that I could choose—and when someone goes beyond “I saw that you went to Israel! What was your time there like?!”, if they ask a follow-up question, I do. The quick answer is: “It was like everything went from black and white to vibrant technicolor. It didn't change the Gospel, but now I can picture locations and estimate distances and see and taste and smell some of what it would have been then, there, like the already-alive pages came to life in front of me. If you ever get to go, GO.”
But if they lean in, I tell them about the manger.
If you’ve received my emails for a looooong time (and if you have a phenomenal memory, what with all the pings and notifications every day of our lives), you might remember that the very first blog post I wrote after returning home in the summer of 2016 was about how my view of Jesus changed in Israel. The entire piece revolves around the manger.
I’ve shared bits and pieces on social media since then because I’m very much still not over it, but I haven’t talked about one of the oh my word moments from the second trip. The two actually go hand-in-hand, and though it’s been six and a half years, I think it’s time to attempt to wrap words around oh my word.
We’re halfway through Advent now. We’ve walked through the weeks that, traditionally, have the themes of hope and peace. The light from the Prophecy candle has carried to the Bethlehem candle, and today we move toward the theme of joy as the Shepherd’s candle joins the trio flickering in the night.
We’re halfway through Advent now, but maybe you don’t feel any closer to the end of your wait. Maybe the weight has only grown heavier, the glimmer of joy dimming, the night stretching on and on and endlessly on, and quite frankly you’re over it. Or maybe you’re confused and exhausted and brokenhearted, feeling like you’ve been overlooked and passed over. I have something to say about that next week, but for now I wonder if I can just sit with you in the long unknown (week one) here on the floor (week two) and share a couple details that don’t change the story—but bring joy in the meantime?
These details won’t change your life. But knowing that God so deeply cares about the details might.
First, the manger.