Good morning…
Over the phone, she describes in detail her favorite painting of the newborn Jesus with his mom and dad. She notices the image as her guide for this unusual Christmas.
She begins, “It’s a dingy stable room instead of a soft warm space. The setting reminds me of the small, one room apartments we would encounter when we served in Uganda. Bare. Concrete. A few steps up to a metal door.”
“Joseph is sitting on something, looking tired and traumatized, hunched over the manger which is laying on the hard floor,” she paints me a picture with her words. “I think this scene is way more accurate. Joseph is staring at the manger, staring at it hunched over, with a vacant look to him. Mary is on the ground with her back against the wall, slumped over, exhausted, head leaning against Joseph’s left leg as he looks at the manger. She seems empty herself, spent, worn out, but my perception is that she’s able to take in a little more of moment.”
“The room is dark, grey light is coming in from the open metal door,” my friend continues. “Jesus in the manger has a glow about him, the steady glow of him illuminates the faces of Mary and Joseph, allowing us to see their expressions. Empty and vacant. Empty, in need of the light of new and eternal life.”
At my request, she sent me a photo of the mesmerizing painting.
What are you struck by as you study this realistic rendition?
What details catch your attention?
What intrigues you, surprises you, unsettles you the most?
In this moment, how do you relate to this work of art?
As we each ponder our own perceptions, we too are illuminated by the glow of God in human flesh. If you were to turn your emotions into words, what might you whisper to baby Jesus as you prepare your heart for Christmas morn?
While in Bethlehem, she went into labor and gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped the baby in a blanket and laid Him in a feeding trough because the inn had no room for them (Luke 2:6b-7, VOICE).
…Sue…
