Usually in our neck of the woods, even if we don’t have a white Christmas, we’ll have an acceptable layer of snow in January. This is great news for those who have been waiting for winter activities all year – the skiers, both Nordic and downhill, the snowboarders, the snowshoers. And for some it can be an isolating time. The cold and ice make it harder to get outside for simple exercising; the early darkness and constant threat of more snow results in more challenging driving conditions, and it’s hard to make and keep plans. And of course, everyone experiences the whole spectrum of delights and frustrations to some extent.

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The month of January is also covered by our liturgical season of Epiphany. This is the season when we remember the ways that Jesus’ divinity was revealed to various people. The Christmas story that we just celebrated means nothing if Jesus is not, in fact, God. AND the Christmas story that we just celebrated means nothing if God does not, in fact, live among us as fully human. It is Eurocentric to think that Jesus was born “in the bleak midwinter when snow had fallen snow on snow.” Jesus was born in a hotter climate with olive trees instead of fir trees. So no, he was not a snowboarder, and he didn’t have to worry about driving in icy conditions. Okay, maybe the 2,000 years between us is also why he was not a snowboarder or driver. But even across the world, even through time, he did experience exhilaration and fear, contentment and frustration just we do. As my mom put it when I was a child: “Jesus knows what it’s like to stub your toe.”

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Beloveds, my hope for you this month is that you may embrace the wacky mystery that Jesus is no less human, even in this season of Epiphany, and that that understanding may bring you a sense of comfort and affirmation. For those who saw the vulnerable baby or the toddler at the peak of his terrible twos, the challenge was to see a heavenly king. For us 2,000 years later, it may be to see Jesus’ full humanness. But in our times of trial he does not just empathize with us, he sympathizes, because he has felt temptation and anger too. When we celebrate, he celebrates with us because he knows what joy and inner peace feel like. Through Jesus’ baffling identity as fully human and fully divine, God can never be separate from us. Beloveds, next time you are riding down the mountain, know that God takes delight in your joy. Next time you are shut inside and feeling lonely, know that Emmanuel never leaves your side. And when you stub your toe, don’t feel bad about what comes out of your mouth. Jesus probably had something to say about it when it happened to him too.

 

Blessed be,

Pastor Alison