For Unto Us

Years ago I was at the wedding reception of the son of one of my friends held at the Phillips Art Gallery in Washington, DC. As I stood in front of one painting, a guest standing next to me noted the artist was so obsessed with his work that he often returned to the gallery with his paints and made small changes. It was incomplete, imperfect. The museum curator was astonished and tried to prevent him from changing his masterpiece once the gallery had acquired the painting.

Unusual story, I’ll admit.

I tell it because it captures one aspect of Christmas, an astonishing turning-point in salvation story.

God, who loved his greatest creation gone awry, seeing the pain we experienced in our fallen state, could not leave us or let us go. He could not abandon us. He had to intervene with his masterpiece, one in his own image and likeness.

He went far beyond what a mere painter could do. He stepped into his own canvas and entered his own work of art. That must qualify as a miracle by any definition. This is more than a painter seeking a perfect expression of an idea. This is love.

No wonder we celebrate it. Some would say that the painter was tying to rescue his painting. You could say the same and more about the rescue mission that arrived on Christmas Eve. For unto us he came, not to perfect us, but to bring us home and make us whole.