thousands of people probably saw the star that Christmas night in the fields. but the shepherds looked at the star and they knew. They followed it because they knew. And they found Christ in the manger because they knew.
I've been thinking about Christmas in Mongolia being a bit like the star that night so long ago.
it's there for all to see, for all to find, for all to discover but it's also just a day.
some of us know- we gather, we celebrate, we light candles and we rejoice. and then there is the rest, the majority, the large consensus that doesn't. for whom it is a normal day, a day with final exams and work and chores and...life.
society doesn't stand still here. stores don't close. families don't gather. santa doesn't come. reindeer aren't spotted in the sky.
and yet some of us come together, we sit in a crowded room and we light the Advent wreath and we sing of the angels and the shepherds and the baby and we celebrate the birthday of a Savior who was born into the mess.
we are not a club, we are not a secret, we are not hiding.
we just simply see the star and know because in the story of life and its multitudes of ways and God's grace we have come to know.
and so we celebrate even while life continues outside the doors of the crowded room. and we look to the star, to Christmas, to this holiday and we point towards it. we explain and we hope that in explaining we're doing justice to where the star has led us. to how it has changed us. to why we sit around and celebrate the birth of a baby who came into life among animals and hay and parents who were probably scared out of their minds.
it's new here. it is not a tradition or a story or a cultural consumerism event.
there are no yearly family christmas activities or santa claus theories or presents bought and exchanged.
I sat in the back of a crowded ger on Christmas day and I cried because the children of this five-month old church had decorated the circular one-roomed tent by themselves- a pouring out of excitement and joy and....it hit me.
it was their first Christmas.
their rendition of the nativity story left me in tears.
because it is all new, it is all treasured and learned and discovered and suddenly, they've seen the star.
and they are pointing too, journeying towards the manger scene because God has come and told them that a Savior is to be born.
maybe they don't know what that means yet. maybe most of us don't really know what it means. maybe most of us are still following the star, still trusting that we will figure it out one step into the dark night and over the fields at a time.
Christmas is quieter here- a celebration in the midst of a daily life that doesn't pause like it seems to in the U.S.
but the star shines in both places. and no matter what corner of the world we're seeing it from...it's still the star over Bethlehem. it's still Christ in a manger and we can still be the shepherds; walking towards He who calls us, searching for the baby who saves us and inviting others to join us on the journey.
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