Unchain Jesus

            I crossed the street to get a better look at the large crèche outside a local business, and lingered to admire the figures. A donkey rested, a shepherd held a lamb, and Joseph stood guard, as Mary tenderly knelt near the animals’ feeding trough that served as cradle for her newborn son.

            Something out of place in the traditional scene—shiny, metallic—jarred me, and I leaned closer. Not quite hidden, a chain secured Baby Jesus and the other statues to the nativity scene. That was understandable; I’d heard of holiday decorations disappearing. The owner was thwarting thieves or mischief-makers. He didn’t want a manger with a missing Messiah.

            After New Year’s Day, the business owner will unchain Jesus, box him up, and stow him away for eleven months. That’s understandable, too. That’s what you do with December’s decorations. I anticipate again enjoying this three-dimensional profession of faith displayed in Milton.

            However, I hope that the real Jesus will not be handled like his plastic reproduction:  chained as an infant in a manger for a few weeks, then boxed in storage for most of the year.

            Jesus experienced similar treatment at times during his sojourn in Galilee two millennia ago. His biographers Luke and Mark recount Jesus’ visit to his hometown congregation. While there, he read a messianic prophecy from the scroll of Isaiah, then proclaimed, “Hey everybody, this is about me!”

            The response of the locals? Isn’t this the carpenter—Mary and Joseph’s boy? We know his family—he couldn’t possibly be anybody special! Who does he think he is, claiming the scripture is about himself? His neighbors still pictured Jesus as the cute tot toddling after Daddy in the wood shop; they took offense when he taught about his Father in heaven.

            Twenty centuries later, some still react like Jesus’ contemporaries: The mute baby-in-the-manger creates warm, fuzzy feelings, while the meddling adult Jesus makes us hot under the collar. We love the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay, but resent the wake-up call, “So why do you keep calling me ‘Lord, Lord!’ when you don’t do what I say?” (Luke 6:46, NLT)

            The chained baby in Milton’s manger reminded me that every person must choose how to respond to the real, crucified, resurrected, ascended, and still-living Jesus:

            Deplore him, like his offended neighbors and the religious hierarchy who wanted him dead.

            Ignore him for most of the year, becoming misty-eyed in December, like even many who consider themselves Christians.

            Adore him. Study his teachings and try to live them. Write him on every day of every month of the calendar.

            Jesus—he’s not just for Christmas.

Samaritan in a Pickup

And behold, a certain lawyer stood up and tested Him, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?”
He said to him, “What is written in the law? What is your reading of it?”
So he answered and said, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind,’ and ‘your neighbor as yourself.’”
And He said to him, “You have answered rightly; do this and you will live.”
But he, wanting to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

Then Jesus answered and said: “A certain woman went down from Watsontown to Milton, and the brand new wheel bearing in her 2002 Kia Rio melted and smoked, leaving the car half dead next to a corn field.

“Now by chance certain drivers came down that road. And when they saw her, they passed by on the other side. And when she phoned home, she cried unto an answering machine.

“But a certain bearded man, as he journeyed in a pickup truck, came where she was. And when he saw her, he had compassion. So he crawled around on the ground and examined the tires. And he studied the skid marks the tires had left on Route 405. And he sniffed the smoke and shook his head sadly. And he set her in his own vehicle, and drove her home. And behold, he was not a pervert, and did not assault her, but drove away promptly.

“So who do you think was neighbor to her whose Kia fell among defective wheel bearings?”

And he said, “He who showed mercy on her.”

Then Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

There are still compassionate strangers in Northumberland County and many other locations. I thank the bearded Samaritan who rescued me.

Do you have a Good Samaritan story? Please send it to me.

Based on Luke 10:25 – 37, NKJV (www.biblegateway.com) and real life.