Luke's version of the Christmas story
    invites us to turn our attention
to the embodiment of Christ
    in the untidy ordinary:

        a baby born in back-water Bethlehem,
            a poor family shivering in subpar accommodations,
        a stable, cows, pigeons, manure,
            uncertainty, chaos, anxiety.

Sure, angels made the brief and flashy pronouncement,
    but then directed the shepherds [unkempt, lowly!]
not to a temple to pray,
    nor a cathedral to sit in hushed silence,
but to this strange, impoverished setting:

        earth, not heaven,
            you and me, not angels,
        this kitchen table, not a sanctuary.

The truest incarnation
  is apparently the lowliest:

        here, now,
            without, within,
        painful, like childbirth,
            then relief, joy,
        and once again,
            the newborn Christ.

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