Searching for baby Jesus was the theme of my day yesterday. Ironically during this Advent season we are all looking for the Baby Jesus. We are waiting with open arms to welcome him, longing to see his face more clearly. Yesterday, I literally was looking for Baby Jesus in the basement of my parent’s house. It all started when we decided to forego our usual family outing to obtain the ideal Christmas Tree. Every December we (dog included) gear up for a trip to the tree farm, armed with a saw and tree wagon. We walk over the bridge next to the lake filled with 2 white swans and trek up the hill and back down again until we can all agree on one tree. It can’t be too fat, too short, too thin or have dead spots. Once agreed upon Wayne gets down on the ground and saws away. One of us guides the tree to the ground and then help lift it atop the wagon. We take turns pulling the wagon down the hill to a place where the tree is shook free of any debris and wrapped. We then carefully hoist the tree onto the roof of the car and strap it down for the journey home. After this we enjoy popcorn, apples and a visit to Santa at the tree farm. It has become a tradition. This year we wanted to return to our original tradition of pulling out an artificial tree from the attic, assembling it and getting it up with what seems to be ease? When the kids were little we always put up an artificial tree. The first Christmas Wayne and I were married we obtained a tree from a local department store which was used for a display. It had sleighs, white balls and snow babies on it. We had to get to the store early on December 26th and lay hands on the tree to claim our stake. While Wayne got a shopping cart I undecorated the tree and placed all of the ornaments in a box provided to us by the store. Much to the disappointment of other eager shoppers – we obtained the tree. This year we return to that tradition as my oldest daughter Jessica asked if we could put up the tree she remembered from her early childhood. And in doing this – I realized that I could not locate the appropriate tree stand for this tree. Much time was spent looking in boxes in the attic, basement and closets. It would have been easier to cut the tree down instead! However I thought – “Hmmm my parents must have a tree stand that I could use”. So Jess and I ventured into my parent’s now vacant house. The house is still complete with furnishings and memories. Whenever I go in the front door I yell “I’m home!” in my Ricky Ricardo voice fully expecting my Mom to answer me. She was always busy at work in the yard or in the kitchen. She hung out our wash on the clotheslines in the yard no matter what the weather. Often my Dad’s work jeans would come in as a frozen sheet. I would hug my Mom as she came in from the cold, crisp and smelling like the outdoors with a scarf tied around her head. But today I looked out the kitchen window into a yard of disrepair. Clotheslines down, swimming pool busted and bushes overgrown preventing one from getting out the patio door into the yard. It reminds me of a ghost town of sorts. Or one of those towns you see on TV where the people are abducted by aliens and the home is empty except for the remnants of life left there. People taken mid conversation, mid-eating soup at the kitchen table…you know the scene. And so with these thoughts I venture into the basement looking for a tree stand and to my surprise I find one setting atop of a pile of decorations nestled amid boxes on the ping pong table. My Dad and I used to pass the afternoon on a Saturday playing ping pong till my Mom would call us for a ride home from work. We would do trick shots off the wall and floor. Just when you expected your opponent to drop the ball on the floor it would hit the ceiling and bounce back onto the table. This table now acts as a storage place for things collected from deceased relative’s homes. While I am there I remove many recyclables that are blocking my path. Jess and I both spot a cheetah print dress at separate times. She asks if she could try the dress on at home. It is totally in vogue for this time and I think it would fit. I say yes. Then I remember that we always put a lit nativity scene out every Christmas. It was Mary, Jesus and Joseph and a manger with straw. As a little girl I would run down into the basement and lift up each piece - approximately 4 feet each - except for Baby Jesus. I would carry him gently upstairs and place him in the manger. I wanted to carry on this tradition and frantically searched for the nativity scene – a staple of my childhood. But where could I find it? I told Jess that I was looking for baby Jesus in Nana and Papa’s basement -an unlikely place for the babe to be. Or is it? God comes to us in the most unexpected and forlorn places. Amid our misery and sadness and during those times when we least expect it. For me He was hidden in a box with His parents in the closet amid spider webs and insulation hanging askew. This was hardly a place for the Savior to be found. However these cobwebs and disintegrating spaces are the places where the Savior needs to be -and where He comes to us. The cobwebs of materialism cloud our vision and our hearts, while the disintegrating spaces of our culture blossom when human dignity is compromised by convenience. This is most especially noted in our attitudes toward the elderly, the unborn child and the disabled. They are weak and need our attention.
I felt the childhood sensation of excitement when I dug through a series of boxes to the one box that I remembered as containing the holy family. Much to my approval I found all three of them nestled together a little more worn than I remembered. I yelled up the steps to Jess – “I found Jesus!” - The basement lights blinking from a burned out bug-laden fluorescent bulb and screen. (It reminded me of a burned out sign in front of a Motel 8). We excitedly carried the family to the car, anxious to test them out when we got home. Joseph was the only one who needed some attention. His light bulb was burned out and his screws were rusty. I could not help but wonder if my tetanus shot was up to date as I unscrewed his base and replaced the bulb. Jess and I set up the manger scene – minus the baby Jesus. He will have to wait to be delivered till December 25th when He will be revealed to us in His entire splendor. My wish for you is that Jesus comes to you during this Advent season amid the cobwebs that cloud your vision and in the most unlikely of places. Have a blessed Holiday season!
