Crib
From the Greek for
woven or plaited,
which quickly translated
to basket. Whence the verb
crib, which meant “to filch”
under cover of wicker
anything–some liquor,
a cutlet.
For we want to make off
with things that are not
our own. There is a pleasure
theft brings, a vitality
to the home.
Cribbed objects or answers
keep their guilty shimmer
forever, have you noticed?
Yet religions downplay this.
Note, for instance, in our
annual rehearsals of innocence,
the substitution of manger for crib–
as if we ever deserved that baby,
or thought we did.
This poem kinda reflects how I feel about the whole Christmas idea right now: guilty. I feel like a filthy sinner who deserves to be shut out of the Kingdom forever. But the thing is...I'm not. In sending His Son to Earth to die for me, God gave me the innocence of that manger baby. It's mine, and I get to walk in the fact that the greatest part about Christmas is that Christ's innocence has been credited to me. As I say this, I struggle with sin. I struggle with my own imperfection, my own rebellion, my own total lack of anything good to call my own. And I don't feel good about it. But therein lies the heart of the gospel: I am not capable of good, so I don't have to be "good"... God doesn't see that about me any more. So while I'm frustrated and feel dirty and stained, God is saying to me "Have hope, my little Daughter - I'm not asking for your good, but for your heart. Dirty and all. I'll wash it up a bit before I use it." In the midst of my darkness, I have hope that I am not defined in Erin terms, but in God terms. God's messenger uses my own name to preach to me. Erin - Peace. Evangeline - Good news. granted, they were saying it in Aramaic, not Greek. but somehow, God knew I would need to remember who I am. A sinner given the peace of God through the good news of Christ. my guilt no longer matters.
so please excuse this bit of self-evangelism...sometimes preaching to yourself is necessary. But please don't think that this message is only meant for me. It's for all of us. this Christmas season, think about that manger baby. Think about what He means. Really. Personally. To you. You will get no greater gift this year.
