Bunny Slippers

I remember a Sunday during the Advent season almost ten years ago, when I took part in the worship service of a small town country church.

As the piano and organ chimed together melodies like “O Holy Night” and “Joy to the World,” I couldn’t help but notice the seasonal decorations on stage right. Someone had taken great care in creating the nativity scene; complete with a rough hewn timber stable, carefully placed straw bales and intricately painted wooden cut outs of Mary and Joseph, the shepherds and wise men. Around the figures’ feet sat an array of typical stable animals positioned to face a wooden box representing the manger that held a baby doll Jesus; a porcelain horse, a wooden camel, some cardboard cut-out sheep and, sitting near the foot of the manger…a pair of bunny slippers.

I stifled a giggle as I took in the tackiness of it all…unable to reconcile it with the grand 20ft tree positioned on the stage of my mega-church back in the city; decorated tastefully in a monochromatic colour scheme and boasting the loveliest angel perched at its top, never to see a hand-made popcorn garland or kindergarten-crafted ornament. The foyer of our sanctuary, swagged in life-like garlands strung with ”white only” lights and expertly tied gold bows stood in stark contrast to this unpretentious tribute to the events of the Christ Child’s coming.

But as the organ played on, leading us through somber Advent favourites like “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” and “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” my thoughts turned to the lyrics of these cherished hymns. And as the pastor read the Christmas story from Luke, I couldn’t help but turn to the prophetic words of Micah 5:2,

“But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, are only a small village in Judah. Yet a ruler of Israel will come from you, one whose origins are from the distant past. The people of Israel will be abandoned to their enemies until the time when the woman in labor gives birth to her son. Then at last his fellow countrymen will return from exile to their own land. And he will stand to lead his flock with the LORD’s strength, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. Then his people will live there undisturbed, for he will be highly honored all around the world. And he will be the source of our peace.”(nlt)

Immediately, my stifled giggle and judgment on taste was replaced with the conviction of a prideful spirit and misplaced priorities. I pondered the truth of the nativity scene. God did not choose the glitz and sparkle of the professionally decorated city when sending His Son to earth, but the rough and unkempt quarters of a lowly stable in a small town to welcome the incarnate to this world!

Surely this humble manger scene was a better tribute to that First Christmas night than giant trees tastefully decorated in silver and gold…a (redeemed, I believe) pagan tradition at that! I had heard enough sermons over the years reminding me of the humble nature of the nativity scene…not to mention the practicalities of what it actually meant to spend a night in a stable, let alone birth your first child therein! A “lowly” scene indeed.

And yet from that “small town” and “lowly stable” came a babe described with words and phrases like, “majesty,” “highly honored” and “the source of our peace.”

A humble stable, the most undesirable accommodations, aromatic observers…and bunny slippers. The scene on the stage of that church wasn’t tacky at all, but starkly humble. And suddenly it seemed to me the most beautiful and heartfelt nativity scene every crafted. I pondered the church member who was suffering with cold feet each morning that December as his or her bunny slippers were on loan to the Christ Child.

Every year around Advent, I think about those slippers. They are a reminder that the God of Creation, through the most modest and unassuming circumstances, sent a Glorious King to this earth, to alter the course of history and ultimately my future...to be the "source of my peace!" And no attempt otherwise on my part to glitz up the story with neatly tied bows and coordinating colours can hide the harsh humanity of the scene. It serves to reinforce the Glory of God, rather than the pride of man. Beautiful, isn't it?

Truly, the incarnation is a mystery. And a necessary reminder that God repeatedly employs the “things despised by the world, things counted as nothing at all…to bring to nothing what the world considers important.” (1 Cor. 1:28)

This year, I pray you enjoy the Merriest of Christmas seasons, and that this mystery of the incarnation fills you with child-like wonder throughout Advent. May the warmth of the knowledge of God’s love for you and resulting gift to you fill you from your head to, well…your bunny slippers.