I’m considering the various nativity scenes that I’m seeing around, both as figurines and as images. Some of them seem to have a certain look about them, one we might call over-veneration or something, for lack of a real word to use. No offence intended with the post title, by the way. But you know the type, where Mary and Joseph (if he’s even present) are standing back and gazing at the Christ child from a moderate distance, with one hand across their breast and the other gesturing openhandedly toward the child in the manger. The babe in the manger is another story in unrealism. This hours-old infant lays on his back with what is essentially a loincloth or well-placed towel draped over his midsection, and he’s gazing up at his parents, arms streteched wide with palms open in a stance of blessing.

Not hardly likely.

Somehow, I much prefer the earthly Jesus, the Jesus that like any other infant, likes to be bundled up — swaddled. Who likes to be near people, to be held, to know they’re not alone. Who needed others. The Jesus that’s like us, who as a baby, was just like… any of us.

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