Imagine

It’s December 26, of all days,

and the very self of God has decided

to visit creation again, en carne.

Forget, for a moment, if you can,

what this time will look like to us;

try to picture what it will look like to God.

In much of the world, it will be

just another day of need:

toil and suffering

in the struggle to survive.

Perhaps the remains

of a meager celebration

from the night before

might be visible

to the trained eye:

a candle and the crumbs

from a small portion

of seldom-splurged-for food.

And then there’s my neck of the woods:

cardboard boxes, brightly colored paper,

ribbon, partially-eaten animal carcasses

and every food imaginable heaped at the curb

as if an omnivore named opulence

has binged and purged on the spot;

people scurrying to hide every vestige

of what’s not discarded from the extravaganza

in attics, garages, and storage buildings for another year

before returning to the security of their compounds.

Where will this generation’s shepherds be found –

those at the margins whose work

is both so menial and odoriferous

that they must be kept at bay?

What will be their response

to the celestial’s visit and proclamation:

“Glory to God in the highest heaven,

 and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”?

When they arrive in our neighborhood,

will we recognize them as the favored ones?

Will we join Mary in treasuring

their words in our hearts?

Or will their uniforms and smelly trucks

cause our eyes and hearts to glaze?

If you were playing this like the stock market,

how heavily would you leverage

your portfolio for the future they’re promising?

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2013 Todd Jenkins