Giving control to the infant King.

By this time in December, you've probably heard the Christmas story reiterated by radio plays, church sermons, and festive books multiple times now: Mary, the virgin, conceives a child after being told by an angel. Joseph is a little freaked out at first but after a visit from an angel, he keeps his faith and sticks with Mary. They travel to Bethlehem because of the census, and there was no room in the inn, but no worries, because the stable was free. The baby is born, the wise men bring gifts, and the shepherds stop in. The end.

Yet I'm convinced that there is so much more depth to this Christmas story - that the Christmas story is wedged deep in each of our hearts because we can relate to some, if not all, characters in the story. The storm of questions that must of entered Mary's head when the angel bestowed her with the impossible anointing of being Jesus' mother. The initial fury and feelings of betrayal that welled up in Joseph, and the incredible doubt acting as an initial roadblock to faith. The uncertainty of the shepherds who felt filthy and unworthy of being in Christ's presence, even in a stable. The furious ruler who is terrified of losing control of his kingdom, who goes to all lengths to kill this babe of a savior who could supersede his power and reputation. They're all human, some of them presented with Jesus so closely that they could touch him. They all get to witness the beginning of heaven kissing earth. But when we're confronted with Jesus, it means He's the real king. It means we're not in control anymore.

I'm finding the Christmas story is one of losing control, and one of trusting the strangest and strongest Savior we've ever known.

Soak in the humbling reality of finding a light and depending on it to lead you to the Savior, the incredible trust it takes to let your actions be guided by an angel, your schedule be transformed to make room for a visit to the King. To sacrifice your gifts. To bow down before baby Immanuel.

Think of the shepherds. Keeping watch over their flock of sheep, lying in the filth and darkness and making small talk, just as every night before - and suddenly angels light up the whole sky and deliver the best message they could possibly hear.

In the Charlie Brown Christmas show, Charlie Brown goes to pick out a Christmas tree only to fall in love with the wispy, admittedly pathetic tree that collapses under the pressure of a single silver ball. In a way, we and the shepherds are the tree. And while Charlie Brown may not be a typical Jesus-figure, Jesus likewise chose us - all of us, for we all have impoverished and weak hearts with Him - to catch a glimpse of heaven. Of all people, us! Of all the people, the shepherds! What a strange decision for God to make in such an important moment. Yet Christmas clearly shows that we can't predict or control God.

And oh the hope! The hope of being told we're believed in, of being told we'll be rescued by the strongest heavenly hand! But can we believe it? The concept of Jesus as king rebels against every concept of a savior that the people had ever known. No knights or valiant followers, no crown or tangible throne? Not just sent from God, but sent as God, as a personal and humble fraction of heaven? What trust this takes - knowing Jesus as he is, not as we expect him. It's the only way we can ever accept the fullness of His sacrifice and love.

It's a strange sensation, serving the humble baby but defying the 'king.' Though the three wise men were on their way to see Jesus, King Herod tried to force them to cough up some insider information about the Christ baby. They didn't, and he could feel himself losing control of the situation; so he ordered all babies ages two and under to be killed.

I'm pretty sure King Herod had a control issue as well, one that placed him in the center of his world to be worshipped by his people as a god. He was a schemer of the day who worked his way to the top through manipulation and sheltered his weaknesses from the public eye. Someone trying to take that control of that? It's like trying to break down one of the iciest walls hiding a broken heart. He began building up towers of jealousy, anger, selfishness, fear, around his heart. Jesus was a threat.

How often, when we're presented with Jesus, do we immediately shield our hearts out of fear of losing control?

We learn, however, that fear is not an uncommon reaction to Jesus. When the "glory of the Lord shone around" the shepherds, whose schedules were flipped upside down with news of the birth, were "filled with great fear" (Luke 2:9). Mary, who lost control of her body, her betrothed and the reactions of those around her, was "greatly troubled" at the angel's greeting, and had to be told, "do not be afraid" (Luke 1:29-30). Joseph also had to be reassured to not fear. It doesn't say explicitly in the Bible that King Herod was afraid as well, but I'm willing to bet his heart was struck with the most fear of all. How we react to that fear, though, is what truly matters. King Herod reacted with intense fury, violence even, but Mary, Joseph and the shepherds reacted with amazing faith.

I once heard a story of someone who was drowning in the ocean. They were flailing and splashing and panicking, trying desperately to stay afloat and just get one more breath, when the lifeguard swam out. The lifeguard was perfectly equipped to save, and quite ready, except the drowning beach-goer was trying to save himself. The lifeguard tried to tell him to stop thrashing, to let him hold him and carry him to shore. But he couldn't save him until he rested his limbs, released control, and let himself be held.

In that situation, it's the most ridiculous idea to release control of your limbs. Yet often our situations call for us to release control for us to be saved. We have to stop trying to control God, stop trying to be God, and let him be the Savior he showed us through Christmas.

We typically understand Christmas as a time of warmth and benevolence. It's a time we're supposed to make sure the traditions are done, the lights strung up, the presents all shopped for and the calendar scheduled and filled. But what if we're still like the shepherds and wise men, waiting for a light to guide us to the King, terrified that the night will never end? And if our hearts are cold and hardened from the fear we never quite moved past, or from fear of losing control? Yet the birth of Jesus brought the news lovely and strong enough to cast beams of light onto our dark paths and draw our hearts home. When we're scared we'll forever be hiding being these walls of having control, we can be reminded that the hands that eventually stretched out to save us started small and weak as our infant King's.