strange Christmas

a burning bush, burning skies, and burning hearts

“Now Moses was tending the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian, and he led the flock to the far side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the LORD appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up. So Moses thought, ‘I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up.’ When the LORD saw that he had gone over to look, God called to him from within the bush, ‘Moses! Moses!’ And Moses said, ‘Here I am.’” - Exodus 3:1-4

I will go over and see this strange sight is a phrase that dances in my mind. A recognition of the remarkable and a desire to draw closer.

I love the use of “strange.” It feels like the right way to describe this Christian life—something unusual, surprising, mysterious, and worth exploring. And in our curiosity, in our drawing nearer, we find ourselves led to holy ground.

This Advent season, that passage came to mind as I read the story of the shepherds in Luke 2. The angel makes his extraordinary announcement, the glory of the Lord shines around the most unlikely audience, the heavenly host appears and praises God’s glory. It’s fear, beauty, and awe like they’ve never known. It’s the strangeness of the burning bush, now stretched across the sky.

The heavenly declaration is impossible for the shepherds to ignore. The sign—a baby, a manger—hovers in their hearts and echoes in their ears. They, like Moses generations before, go and see.

“When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.’ And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger.” - Luke 2:15-16.

Years later, at the end of Luke’s gospel, the baby that once lay in a manger has now been laid in a tomb. And strangest of all is the story that reaches two of Jesus’ followers on the road to Emmaus. They tell the stranger who approaches them:

“Moreover, some women of our company amazed us. They were at the tomb early in the morning, and when they did not find his body, they came back saying that they had even seen a vision of angels, who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but him they did not see.” - Luke 24:22-24

On this walk from Jerusalem, it is not a bush or sky that burns but hearts that are set ablaze as two men encounter the risen Christ, shrouded at first but then revealed in resurrected glory.

“When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed and broke it and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. And he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, ‘Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?’ And they rose that same hour and returned to Jerusalem. And they found the eleven and those who were with them gathered together, saying, ‘The Lord has risen indeed...’” - Luke 24:30-34

In the course of their walk they are transformed from being “slow of heart to believe,” to experiencing hearts set aglow by the Light of the World. They rush with the haste of the shepherds to go and tell the others the spectacular things they have seen and heard.

I believe that even now, there are strange sights we will stumble upon. Moments of invitation, where we can choose to step closer, to go and see, or to turn away, back to distractions or screens or the comfortable ruts we’ve worn for ourselves.

I want to be a woman who encounters the King who came and is coming again. I want him to set my heart burning.

We are about to celebrate, as John Piper put it, “the dawning of indestructible joy.”¹ God—Creator, Sustainer, more great and glorious than we could ever imagine—born as a vulnerable, needy baby. He came not to seize power, but to serve and suffer and save. In love, he laid his life down for us. In authority, he took it up again. It is strange indeed.

I pray we may all step closer this Christmas and experience the wonder of I AM come to be Immanuel.

1. https://www.desiringgod.org/books/the-dawning-of-indestructible-joy