Christmas for the Rest of Us Five Christmases ago, Shawnda, Zoey, Journey, and I were at a large outdoor mall

in Los Angeles with Shawndas mom and dad. The outdoor mall is called the Grove, and there is single, paved walkway that runs through the middle of the area with stores on both sides. We had just finished eating at the farmers market, and we all stepped in to a store. Shawnda and I had Journey. We thought Shawndas parents had Zoey. Shawndas parents thought we had Zoey. Neither of us had Zoey. It took only a few second for absolute panic and fear to set in for all of us. I ran in the direction back towards the farmers market where we had just been. Shawnda, Journey, and her parents headed in the other direction. There were so many people there that day. People on the street. People crowded on the sidewalks. And a tiny child shorter than all of them somewhere in the midst of them. As I was running down the street shouting Zoey!, I had these terrible, ominous thoughts rushing through my head. What if this is it? What if this is that time when what you think happens to some other family, happens to yours? Why should this not happen to us? Oh my God Zoey, Zoey! Where are you? She was nowhere to be found at the farmers market. As I started running back to the store we realized Zoey was not with us, I just remembered praying, God, if you are here, be with Zoey. Be with us. Help us find her. Make her safe. God, be here. Please, of all the places you might be, please be here. I was crying so hard at this point that everyones face I saw just looked like a giant blur.

And then when I finally arrived back at the store, I saw Shawnda coming in the distance, and she had Zoey in her arms. Shawnda was crying. Zoey was crying. We all were crying. I took Zoey into my arms, and I wanted to scream, I told you to stay close. I told you to keep up. I told you, I told you. But I just held her. Once we all composed ourselves, I asked Shawnda where she had found Zoey. Shawnda said she didnt find Zoey. She said Zoey found her. Or to be more precise, the woman holding Zoey in her arms, found Shawnda. This woman, a mother at the Grove with her own children, saw Zoey walking through the street crying. She immediately approached Zoey to ask what was wrong. Zoey told her that she was lost and couldnt find her parents. The woman scooped her up in her arms, and they began to walk, the womans own children staying close by her side. When Zoey saw Shawnda in the distance, Zoey pointed her out, and Zoey was back in Shawndas arms in no time, but not before the other woman had some direct words for Shawnda, and Shawnda stood there, still crying, and she listened without interrupting. At a minimum, this is what you do for the woman who found the child who you, your husband, and the grandparents lost. This is what you do. (pause) Ive often thought that if I were to ever write it a book, it would be patterned after the Wheres Waldo books? Are you familiar with those books? You open the book, and on both pages is a themed environment, and hidden among the many characters is Waldo. But Waldo doesnt really want to be found. Right? If he wanted to be found, he would not have dressed in that red and white striped shirt, knowing that everyone else would be wearing red and white striped shirts as well. He would have avoided the

red and white scarf, and the red and white hat, and he would have taken off his giant black-rimmed glasses. Instead, he would have made himself larger than everyone else, worn an entirely different color outfit, and drew a giant, green-neon arrow above his head that stated, Heres Waldo. But something tells me that Waldo doesnt want to be found. Id entitle my book, Wheres Jesus? Id go through the Gospels and pull out all of the stories where Jesus is mentioned directly, and I would put him in the themed environment, but I wouldnt make people guess where hes at in the scene. Id draw an arrow above his head that stated, Heres Jesus. But something tells me that Jesus doesnt want to be found. Please dont be angry at me for saying this. I know much of our faith is based on the belief that Jesus really does want to be found, and that if we do the hard work of looking for him, then well find him. But something tells me that Jesus doesnt want to be found. Otherwise, why be born to an unwed peasant teenager that others thought of as property? Why risk being born to a girl who could have been stoned to death for the crime of unwed pregnancy? Why send an angel to minimum-wage workers living in the desolate wilderness whose sole responsibility was to tend sheep? Why not have Jesus be born in a city that actually showed up on a map; not an out-of-the-way, hole-in-a-wall place like Bethlehem that no one traveled to on purpose? Lets recap: Unwed, soon-to-be teenage, mom with not a penny to her name.

Minimum wage day-laborers watching animals. A town that doesnt show up on a map. Add it all up. Does any of it add up to a sign that states, Heres Jesus. Throw the three wise men into the equation, who see Jesus, and then swear they wont tell anyone about him, and you have to wonder if Jesus really wants to be found. Run through the gospels when Jesus is a grown man, and what does he keep telling people? Dont tell anyone about me. Dont tell anyone about what just happened. You were blind, but now you see. Keep it to yourself. If Jesus really doesnt want to be found, then why is it that so much of our faith-talk and prayer is spent on finding him, or at least talking about the necessity of finding him? The problem with making Jesus so easily found is that people start thinking about approaching him or not approaching him on their own terms. I heard that Jesus is going to be at Stoneridge Mall and then at the outlet mall. Id really like to go, but traffic is going to be a nightmare. I heard that Jesus is going to be at Chuck E. Cheese, but can you imagine all those kids there who are going to be sneezing and coughing on everyone? No thanks. Plus the pizza tastes like cardboard. When we start thinking that God is in the business of making Jesus so easily located, then we also start arguing over where he is and where he isnt.

And heres the easy equation we end up operating out of: In the places where people do horrible things, Jesus is on permanent vacation. In the places where people have lots of money and stuff, hes there. If only we possessed a story about a God who could birth the Savior of the world in a poor, uneducated, teenage girl, in an outof-the-way place, and send a messenger to tell the most unlikely of marginalized laborers all about it. That would be a story to tell. Still only a few weeks removed from the tragedy at Sandy Hook elementary in Newtown, Connecticut, it deeply, deeply disturbs me when I hear and read others suggesting that God was not at Sandy Hook elementary. Why, because something beyond human comprehension and sense-making happened there? But if God was not at Sandy Hook elementary, then where in the world is God? And why in the world would any of us aspire to give our lives to a God who would not or could not be at a place like Sandy Hook elementary? See, Id like to suggest a different equation this Christmas, that is not as easy as the earlier one I, and here it is: Where people are hurt and are hurting; where life does not make sense; where the inexplicable happens; where pain and misery abound; there God especially is. Where people are doing well and thriving; where life makes sense; where the explicable happens; where joy and celebration abounds; there God is too. See, the way I know that we do not have a corner on the Godmarket, is because if we had been in charge of directing the Christmas story, Mary would have been the queens daughter,

and Joseph would have been a prince. They would have dated for 13 years, gotten married, then given birth to Jesus years later, after having earned their masters degrees and buying a house in the suburbs. An angel would have appeared to movie stars and then later members from the white house would have showed up bearing gifts. But we are not in control of the Christmas story, which consequently also means we are not in charge of determining where God is and where God isnt. The story of Christmas, in my humble opinion, isnt about where Jesus is or isnt, and whos responsible for kicking him out, if hes thought to have left the building. Last I looked, God didnt need an invitation from us to show up at the house he built and owns. The story of Christmas is that God is where he wants to be, and if the Christmas story from Luke is to be trusted, then it means that God will show up where no one thinks he should and where no one would think to look. The story of Christmas is that whether we are looking for Jesus or not, hes looking for us. His birth was predicated upon a this truth: God is looking for us. Jesus is God with us. He is God with us at Stoneridge and the outlet mall. Hes God with us at Chuck E. Cheese. Hes God with us in our schools, especially Sandy Hook elementary. Hes God with us in Jesus on the cross. And after that terrible, tragic Friday, God had every right to just press the reset button. After Sandy Hook, and all of the crosses erected there, and the deaths of his children, God had every right to just press the reset button. But he didnt. Well, actually he did, but it sounded more like a whisper, than a crash, because God reset things in a vulnerable child named Jesus of Nazareth, that the world tried to

squash like an ant when he was born, but didnt actually succeed until he was in his early 30s. (pause) I am not an expert on locating God in the world, on determining where God is and isnt, but I do believe that five Christmases ago he was a woman who found the daughter whom my wife and I could not find on our own. I believe he was holding Zoey in his arms even while other children huddled by his side, possibly other children who had gotten lost that day too, but all of them his children. When the reunion began, it was not an easy one. Hard words had to be spoken and hard words had to be heard. This is Gods prerogative; the prerogative of the One who does the finding, to say to losers that more is expected; more is demanded and required. And while you want to puff out your chest and say you cant talk to me like that, you hold your tongue when you realize that as much as you want to defend yourself, God is the One whos holding your child. Try as you might, and no matter what choice words God might have for you, the Angry/Punishing God moniker doesnt stick when Gods the One holding your child. Maybe God had no business being at the Grove that day. Maybe God had no business of being at Sandy Hook elementary on December 14th, holding children and adults, dead and alive, but he was. And in both places he said, I expect so much more from you. I know you can all be better than this. He said this with humanity in his fullest embrace. Truth of the matter is we could keep open wounds open, spending more time debating whether or not God was there that horrible day in Newtown, or we could just agree that he was, and maybe then finally be free to stop pointing fingers and, instead,

start loving others more. The strategy to refashion us into Gods image began more than two thousand years ago in a whisper, in Jesus, who showed us what love really looks like, and consequently, still does. Love, and more of it, will change the world. Indeed, its the only thing that ever has. The good news of Christmas isnt that Jesus was hiding, and we managed to find him. Its that we didnt know what we were looking for or even what we needed, and so God went looking for us, in a whisper that shouts across two thousand years to say these deep words: Do not be afraid. I am with you. Amen.