Innerdialects

#10

You did this Lord:
from Cradle to the Cross,
 You kept no memoir of wrong
 You looked away and beyond
into Eternity.

Teach me how.

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Discrimination : it lurks in our blue collars, walks tall in our make- believe Gandhi boots. Like it or not, the Thing is here to stay and will try every trick & treat in Its book to destroy the power of Sacred courtesy. If I spoke the tongues of angels, but made you feel small; if I so much as gave you a chair in my room, but loudly declared my niceness in letting you in, what would Christ say to That? The whole point of Jesus the Son of God being born in such a humble place, was to give us a strong message- please beloved, be humble.

Christmas is that perfect time to embody the Joy of giving, of co- existence, and sharing His Love in the way He would.. I know some precious people who are scared of gift boxes from other communities – because they were very uncomfortable with the condescension.

We were talking at home : if Christ were here today, would we let Him in our fine pews? Would we ask Him to first please shampoo? Or shrug and say, ‘Just a carpenter, and trying to talk so fine?!” Christmas is the greatest season for smashing boundaries of the Classes, with this simple message of the Cross.

“God so loved the world, He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have Eternal life.” John3:16.

This Advent, if you and I have found it in our hearts to include people we aren’t familiar with, or folks we may feel we are above, then please let’s do that with the speechless Joy of Humility. In the Kingdom of God, dear one, there is zero race, caste, color, just those who allow themselves to be loved by Him, and those who do not. This Post is a letter to me first. A prayer with all my heart to rise above growing Socio- Global divisions like never before in the History of planet Earth.

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The color of God is the Blood 
of Jesus shed on the Cross -
for every single one of us - 
Humanity. Such is the Courtesy 
of the Cross. This Season 
and forever, may I tremble, 
lest I forget such Love- 
lest I forget. 

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The first time I really thought about Christmas, was when there was this rather large wooden cross snuck somewhere around a manger scene. It was at a low roofed chapel on a hill, I must’ve been 7 years old. The hill had white wild lilies growing all around nodding at the winds. It was a chilly morning that Christmas, the sun was thin gold spilling in through stained glass window with red blue and amber leaf and Shepherd. I remember staring at everything and wondering why He would love me or even know me by name, why would God be born in a stable in hay, and why would He even want to die for thousands and billions of humans who mostly didn’t care anyway?

That manger-cradle will forever remind me of the Cross, it is one vivid prop in the centre stage of my life. The Cross was mine, the Stable mine, I the inn keeper, I the jury, oh and I, Barabbas, ( the convict whose life was traded for Jesus’);

it’s all too much to take in, except in reality bites. Then it sinks in: the beauty of This season grabs me with the fact that it was/is all for us, in exactly the way it happened:

that entire route from Cradle to Cross spills with parables and true life events that birthed whole new generations of re- created humans. It gave seed to new/renewed hearts and lives, like gardens we have grown from the Wounds of the Cross.

I can scarcely take it all in: the Love, Tolerance, the sacrifice of Love, Forgiveness,Reconciliation, and Hope that refuses to give up on the chase for Peace. I love this Season with all my yesterdays and todays and tomorrows because every milestone and Crossroad sees Him standing there, showing me the way. Yes, a narrow path, exclusive,

& every wound is His; every piece of our life story woven in His magnificent weave spanning every generation of Us. With Him within- nothing is lost, nothing missing, nothing broken: Shalom! Look carefully,

out of every wound, a garden grows.