Kissing the Face of God
There’s a Christmas carol of recent vintage that has grown in popularity through the years- “Mary Did You Know”. Penned by Mark Lowry in 1984 [1], it has grown into a modern-day Christmas classic, performed and recorded by multiple artists to this day. Over the years, it has also garnered criticism from conservative Bible scholars for being unbiblical in its theology, which in my humble opinion, misses the simplicity of the song’s message: the overwhelming beauty and power of any mother giving birth - but also, of Mary’s unique role in history as the mother of the Savior of the world, the God-man we know as Jesus; of the universal and eternal consequences of her “yes” to God to enter into the narrative of redemption.
This carol was played at a church where Kent and I worshiped this past Sunday with our friends, and a particular phrase struck me with such force, I wept with the power of the thing:
“[Mary], did you know that your baby boy
Has walked where angels trod?
When you kiss your little baby
You kiss the face of God-
Mary, did you know?”
Did Mary know that tiny little boy-face was the face of God?
The simple words evoke an image that is at once familiar - a mother kissing her infant son, the tenderness of the the act achingly familiar to mothers and fathers alike. We are comfortable and welcoming of such an image; it reminds us of all the things we hold dear about motherhood, about the care and love of mothers for their children.
But although a familiar gesture, a mother kissing an infant son poses a unique question to us today in the context of Mary kissing her son Jesus: how much do we understand about the humanity AND the divinity of Jesus? For us, today in 2020, do we ever see Jesus as more than a baby in a manger? Is it easier for us to keep him there, in the manger all year, so that we don’t have to deal with the awesome majesty and power of a baby who grew up to be a King that was brutally murdered for our sins - of a God-man who came to bring eternal justice to the world? Is it simpler to tightly swaddle him all year so that we don’t have to see the rest of his life played out upon the stage of history, publicly displaying not only our sinfulness, but his willingness to suffer and die in order to redeem us for all time? If he’s stays as a baby in our hearts and minds, we don’t have to deal with Jesus as our Lord and King - and we won’t need to confront how we have (or have not) bowed to him as Lord and King of our lives.
Jesus as Lord and King, powerful Judge, victorious Warrior- these images are not the stuff of Christmas. It’s far easier to deal with the innocent babe in a manger than to humbly acknowledge our need for a Savior; far easier to keep him swaddled and small. And therein lies the deep sorrow of Christmas. The sentimentality of the day often crowds out the great sanctity of the saving act of the God and King of the Universe who loves His people far too much to forget them. It should give us pause.
I think there’s another level of understanding when we hear that line in the song. On a level deeper still than Redeemer and King, Jesus revealed in a profound way that each human being reflects the very “face of God”. If one believes the biblical truth that we are Imago Dei, the very image of God in the world, then each child, each woman and man, each. one. to a person. Each is an exact replica of the face of God; a reflection of the Divine One in the world. To that extent, each time a mother kisses her child, she kisses the face of God. Whether Mary knew that or not, we know she was kissing the face of God because the child was Jesus - but more than that, we know each person here on earth is also an exact image of the face of God.
Christmas this year will be different for many of us: smaller, simpler, quieter. Perhaps given this, we can take some time this Christmas to consider the infant Jesus in the manger, that sweet baby in swaddling clothes who was most certainly kissed and held and loved by his mother and his father. But also? Perhaps in the coming year, we can allow Jesus to grow up, to become King; and just maybe, we can come to see the face of God in each face we encounter.
May you have a very blessed Christmas, with all of the joy and peace it promises!
[1] Although he wrote the words in 1984 as poem for a Christmas play, it wasn’t until 1991 that the poem was set to music by Buddy Greene, and first performed soon thereafter by Michael English.