Mess
I was a messy child. My
mother would often say how she could always tell where I sat at the table. Apparently, I would leave too much evidence of
my presence behind. If I didn’t want to
eat something, I would discretely slide it off of my plate and tuck it under
the edge. When the plate was lifted the
evidence would remain…but not until I had already been excused from the table. I would then pretend to not hear the calling of my mother to come finish my
supper. Even in the event that it was a
supper that I enjoyed…the speed of which I ate would often result with food flying around my face, much like a wood chipper devouring
an oak branch.
My messes were not just localized to the dinner table…they could also be found in my bedroom…and in fact anywhere I went I would leave a trail of
evidence behind. Socks, pants, stolen
cookie crumbs, toys, candy wrappers, etc. could be found leading to my
whereabouts like Hansel and Gretel’s bread crumbs before the birds ate them
up. In this case I didn’t stumble upon
the “old lady” as much as she followed me via my trail.
When I was 23 years old, I had been hired as the student
ministries pastor at Alliance Church in Little Falls. I was single and living in a basement
apartment. I was engaged to be married…but not until June of the following
year.
During, my first Christmas in that apartment I set up a lowly
Christmas tree. It was a tree that I had
cut myself for free from a local farmer…he had lots of trees in his field and
so I am sure he didn’t mind. The tree
was decorated with one strand of lights…one strip of garland…one strip of red
beads…and 12 ornaments…that was all I could afford. It was one pathetic…empty…ugly…messy looking tree…but it went with the décor.
If anyone would have walked into my apartment during that
Christmas season, they would have found dirty clothes scattered all around the
floors…not just the bedroom…dirty…socks…shirts…pants…unmentionables…a half
eaten pizza on the coffee table…peanut shells all over the table and carpet…empty
bottles of Mountain Dew.
It was every bit of the stereo typical bachelor pad…a messy
bachelor at that. I grew up in a small town…12 miles out of town…in a small
town in fact. Locking your doors seemed unnecessary…especially in a basement
apartment…where you have your landlord living upstairs to keep a watch over
things.
One evening during this Christmas season…my landlord was
apparently gone…or had his eyes closed or fixated on a Minnesota Viking game. I
returned home to find my apartment had been broken into…I suppose broken into
is an overstatement, considering the lack of the door being locked. As soon as
I stepped in, I knew something was off…someone had been in here.
Someone had stolen my pizza…someone had stolen my empty pop
bottles…someone had stolen my unmentionables!!! Someone had stolen my peanut
shells…(which incidentally make for a great sweeping compound…just not on
carpet). Not only had these things been stolen…but they also stole the dust from
my floor…the cobwebs from my corners…and actually added Christmas lights and
ornaments to my incredibly lame Christmas tree.
It was then that I found the note…a handmade Christmas card…“Merry
Christmas”…and then listed the names of the perpetrators…about a half a dozen
of my students.
I was surprised by my reaction to this event. It would seem
reasonable to think…“Wow!...How nice! They cleaned up the apartment…they
beautified the tree…and the rest of the place!”
But that is not how I felt…I actually felt…mortified! Here, within
the confines of my walls, were the secrets of how I actually lived…the messy
life that I didn’t really want anyone to see. If anyone were to come over…I
would hide my mess…the real me…before they could enter. These students however,
entered into my mess…my real mess…and they changed it…from the inside…without
me asking.
When Christ came…on that first Christmas night…the world was much
like my apartment. It was a disaster.
There was pain…poverty…disease…persecution…oppression…corruption…and
darkness.
When the world was at its DARKEST…God gave to us…a light.
When Mary and Joseph first arrived at the innkeeper’s door,
looking for a place to stay…the innkeeper had nothing to offer…but he gave him
the barn…a cave really…the floor didn’t have pizza crumbs, pop bottles, peanut
shells or unmentionables. It did have…dirt, animals, animal excrement, perhaps some hay
and a feed trough.
Jesus Christ…came…into a messy place…a messy world…for us.
“WHILE WE WERE STILL MESSY”
Sinners.
He did not wait for us to get cleaned up for him…He stepped into
our mess…at just the right time.
This Christmas, I am willing to bet that you will find a
moment…when you look around…and see all of the empty boxes…the torn wrapping
laying around…dirty dishes in the sink…stains on the table cloth…or floor.
May it cause you to pause…and understand that Christ desires to
enter into your mess…and take care of it. My hope for you is that you will come
to a place where you will invite him into your messy life. He says that he will
do it, if we will just ask.
Will you ask?
We cannot clean the mess on our own.
If you are tired of trying to clean up your own messes
unsuccessfully…may you choose Jesus this Christmas.
AND…may you always keep your apartment doors locked.
Merry Christmas
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