Missing Jesus

The crèche was set, the children were present, the carols were sung but we were missing baby Jesus. Our porcelain set of Mary, Joseph, Shepherds and animals filled the manger scene awaiting the final crowning occupant. A few moments earlier the “star” had refused to come on. The bulb had burnt out at some point prior to the service. What’s a priest to do? Fake it, that’s what. I switched on some lights reserved for concerts and plays to compensate for the failed heavenly light. Wow! The Manger lit up like the sun; however, the babe was nowhere to be found.

Were we a parish in a southern state this scene might have made a lovely tale of genteel church humor. Imagine:  the local parish priest searches diligently for the baby Jesus encountering along the way all sorts of quirky locals and chuckle-inspiring church traditions. Or imagine this: a cheesy detective story complete with a charming but slightly unstable choir member who steals the baby Jesus in order to wreak revenge on a sour-puss choir director whose expectations for Christmas Eve had driven the choir to zany acts of kleptomania. Were we in Mitford then the missing Jesus might have made for a best seller. Alas, New Jersey is not North Carolina.

The search party following the early Christmas Eve service uncovered nothing new. This didn’t stop our investigations and some tongue-in-cheek alternatives. At one point the crib contained a plush kangaroo, at another, a plump plastic baby who loomed like a giant over the other manger participants. These moments of silliness helped pass the time as we searched, but in the end the crib lay naked bathed in the now restored light of the star. There would be no Jesus on Christmas this year.

The incomplete crèche was a little embarrassing; yet the scene also invited reflection. What does an empty crib suggest? What, if anything, is at stake with a manger layout with all the characters but one? Drawing on John of Damascus, St. Thomas Aquinas spoke of the mystery of the incarnation as making known at once, “the goodness, the wisdom, the justice, and the power or might of God”. Looking at the other figurines surrounding the crib, we might imagine that we have a sufficient display of God’s goodness and power already. Didn’t Mary, Joseph and the shepherds receive visitations from the angels? Did not the stars and heavens display the glory of God’s actions? Isn’t Mary alone with her song of humility enough to show us God’s justice? The wonder in all these episodes is without question. To have Jesus absent, however, is to forfeit how the world and humanity have been taken up into a new relationship with God. In the Word made Flesh, Jesus, all creation has been saved, healed and enhanced. All our talk about God coming to us is fine; the real marvel is how we are elevated to God. Mary, Joseph, the animals and even the angel alone could not get us to that point.

 Aquinas goes on later to consider whether God needed to do anything for us. Yes, God could have “zapped” us and made as whole, healed and the rest; however, it was more ‘appropriate’ or ‘fitting’ (conveniens in Latin), says Thomas, that God send Jesus because, among other things, in doing so we received “sweet faith” in God speaking to us through his Son. Likewise, through the incarnation, God lifted our hopes, set an example before us of living life well, and God brought us to the trust and happy goal of life, that is, to a full share in God’s own divine life. God needn’t have sent his Son to bring about God’s ends; the point that Aquinas stresses is that all creation is better off because he did.

There is now a creeping mood of acceptance around the loss of Mary’s ceramic babe. Reflecting on the meaning of a missing Jesus does not replace the importance of his absence in our manger scene. Once the humor of it dissipated, several parishioners informed me of their concern. This is no laughing matter, they announced, what is a manger without the baby? The whole episode does stray into the realm of “Mitford” every now and then. No matter.  The empty crib teaches us something of how the incarnation is central and fitting to how we are reconciled and healed.  Some of us will continue to search and until then, we will rest in the bold assertion from one of our carols that invites us each year to sing, Joy to the world, the LORD has come.  Come, Lord Jesus, come.