Guide us to Thy Perfect Light

Netflix occasionally shocks me with a hidden gem amongst its endless recommendations, re-runs and originals.

Since we have already taken double (or triple) shots of A Christmas Carol, furry green Jim Carrey, my classic Rudolph, and Hallmark holiday movies so corny you have to picky the kernels out of your teeth (but oh do I love them!), we ventured deeper into the seasonal suggestions to discover a children's movie, The Star.

Now, of course, being based on the actual story of Christmas, to my knowledge, this film hadn't received much more attention than the ancient Disney shorts listed about 8 blocks down on the screen. However, we were shocked to hear the voices of Oprah Winfrey, Mariah Carey, Kelly Clarkson, Keegan-Michael Key, Tyler Perry, and Tracy Morgan among others, and the film quickly proved its presence among the more popular recommendations that flanked it.

I am very fortunate to have a job that involves teaching children. I have never left a class without feeling better for being there.  This is not to say there aren't days when I am not dragging my feet and desperately downing every last drop of lukewarm caffeine in my cup before I go in, but kids have a vibrancy and unadulterated approach to life that has a way of brushing the dust off your optimism button.  Watching The Star brought me back to the warm wonder and sanguinity of Christmas I'd felt as a child.

As we grow older, the story of the Nativity gets blurred, barred, and incarcerated as we construct our view of logic and earthly possibility.  Rather than accepting the inexplicable with wide eyes and a gaping jaw, we close the book, shrug our shoulders, put the star on our tree, and ponder over the question of how this could even make sense in our current understanding of reality.

Yet, if we unlock the cage around the Nativity, it reveals its miracle.  We are the children of a King who has already won every battle for you before you were ever given earthly eyes to see them.   The inconceivable was proved possible before our synapses ever fired. Reality preceded us.

By the end of witnessing Mary's donkey friend named "Bo" (a version of a name so close to my heart already!) pull out every stop,  demolish every obstacle, pave the way with prayer and valor for the successful delivery of this precious baby that he didn't quite understand along with a slew of other animals, and watch the fibers of their furry hearts untangle in the presence of the glory of Jesus (even the bad doggies!), I was brought to tears.

Yes, I know that there was no donkey named "Bo" nor camels, sheep, horses, or misbehaving puppies mentioned by name in the gospel.  What The Star accomplished is a view of that earth-shattering story, once again, through the simple, but incomparably profound perspective of a child.

A close friend of mine sent me a link the other day to a sermon delivered by Father John Riccardo of Our Lady of Good Counsel in Plymouth Michigan.  I was shocked to watch this pastor tear open the Gospel, read straight from the text, and hammer and drill the truth of Jesus, our reality, so plainly written for us, but so often observed from the inattentive eyes of a passing museum tourist.

(Enjoy the whole statement here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ye8D8p54C4c )

The greatest gift you, I, your family, your neighbor, that cousin you never talk to, your Starbucks barista, the mailman, the world has ever been given is our Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, the victory of our Jesus (Isaiah 9:6)

We are all united, in this season and always, beneath the glow of the Star that illuminated our true reality long before we ever questioned it.

Matthew 2:10-12