This morning I had a random thought: All of the people who came to see the newborn Christ came in groups.
Does it matter? I’m not sure. But it does give me pause, as I consider whom I might find next to me when I worship the Baby Jesus.
It could be that person with whom I’ve been irritated lately. So I ask myself: Could I offer my heart to Christ kneeling next to my nemesis, or are there hard feelings (and blame) I’d have to let go of first?
Or what if I had to worship alongside someone who had hurt me? I test the idea by mentally pulling people into the manger scene, to see if my forgiveness has gone deep enough to allow me to pray with them.
Then there’s the problem of giving reverence side by side with the people whom I have neglected, or brushed off or wounded with words. Have my attempts to make amends been significant enough to allow us to sing hosannas together?
Oh, these questions make me squirm! But I ponder them because if I’m going to meet Christ in a humble stable, I need a humble heart. One way to get there is to place myself at the foot of the manger with the people I’ve judged, begrudged or failed. For then I see what Jesus sees when he gazes upon me: how well I’ve served him through the relationships he’s put in my life.
