I See God

So Caesar is counting heads.
A pregnant woman needs a bed
but chale, space no dey,
the people who got there first say they might as well stay.
A heavenly host of angels is singing praise songs outside
Probably loud enough to drown out the pregnant woman's cries.

I zone out of the scene.
I'm too wrapped up in my midlife crisis
considering my business, I may have to raise prices
Once again, people will complain
but how else is a man to gain?

From my reverie, I am roused by a man
lowering himself in the seat next to me
He is unremarkable;
I am certain I will remember nothing about him
the second after he leaves.
I don't like strangers, so I try keeping
my eyes downcast though I'm no longer reading.
My ruse fails and he addresses me:
"Excuse me, sir, what are you reading?"

Tediously, wordlessly, righteously,
I let him see the cover of my book.
Slowly, his face softens, and he smiles and nods:
"Ah, so you are reading about God."

Of course I am reading about God;
it is Christmas
and this is one of those duties I must fulfill
so the one about whom I'm reading will send me His good will.

But before I can return my gaze to the page, he speaks once more:
"Excuse me, sir, but if you don't mind,
Could you tell me a bit about what your God is like?"
I close my book and fold my hands up.
This is one question I know how to answer.
I prepare my speech and intend to blow this stranger away
with the tales of a formidable Maker:

I see God in the rolling thunder,
the crashing of the waves and them pulling under
everything that cannot withstand
the fearful power of the ocean's command.
I see God in the stride of a cheetah,
in fearsome things
in every flap of a dragon's wings,
breathing fire, the kind with which
all known heat cannot compete
setting skies ablaze with brilliance
that could leave the sun amazed
With a voice that shakes tectonic plates
and sends mountains crashing into rivers
a voice so powerful it gives me shivers
and crumples me so I fall to my knees
and scares me worse than my worst enemies.
I see God as an icy God
a block so cold proximity burns
a rock so old it doesn't age
the God that sent Egypt the plague.
...A God that by nature pushes people away.

He looks at me for a while and then says...
"Your God sounds like a terrorist.
A God without rhyme
A God without reason
A God that only knows the harshest season
A God of power but not of love
A God as a vulture, but never a dove
The God of the flood,
but not of the rainbow
That's the God that most of us claim to know.
But imagine this God you claim to see
as flesh like you and me.
What would that look like?"

He takes my book, reopens it and resumes:
"When the angels appeared to the shepherds,
the night of the virgin birth,
to be told that God incarnate had finally arrived here on earth
yet the ground had not split open
and they hadn't suddenly dropped dead
Don't you wonder what went through the shepherds' heads?
When they knew they could finally see God,
But did they consider...

"What if he looked naked?
And quiet?
With the facial features of an Israelite
With baby skin not made of iron
covered in blood and prone to crying
The one who made us in His image
taking our image and making it His
defying your notion of a superhero
and speaking to people just like this?
A lamb to complement my argument for the lion
the one who forgave and healed and saved
and became a shoulder to cry on
Can you see God
as a gentle God
born in the era of King Herod
A God of high humility
and kindness with authority?
Imagine a shepherd shocked to the point of delight
to discover a God that can actually be liked
and recognized as a familiar face
so unremarkable that he could take anyone's place?
How many Christmases
have you read these passages
and not seen the simplicity
of the God you've described so explicitly?
Your vision should have gone through a paradigm shift
and so to you, this Christmas, this is my gift:
to catalyze the process of you seeing with fresher eyes.
I am aware I have spoken a lot
But now, can you see God?"

I look at the Stranger closely, recognizing him for the first time.
"Yes," I reply. "Right now, I see God."