The Birth of Hope
Tonight I watched the fourth and last episode of the BBC's version of the Nativity. Biblically inaccurate, unnecessarily back storied, but still the tears streamed down my face at the birth of a peasant boy in a small village in the middle east.
How can this be? Why does this story, imperfect and muddled, annoying and enchanting by turns still have the power to bring such strong emotions forth? Is it the connections we make to our own experiences? Is it the beginning of an amazing story, the shaping of a man who changed the world? Is it the orthodox view of the coming of the Messiah, the beginning of a religion that has shaped the values of the society and culture we live in whether we like it or not?
Or is it the essential truth that each birth is miraculous, a bundle of spiritual and physical potential, unsullied by disappointment and failure and betrayal, the triumphant cry of hope that rings eternally throughout the universe?
I don't know, but this Christmas is special because of this flawed but timeley reminder of what we can all be...miracle workers, world changers, sons of God
No comments:
Post a Comment