God is wrapped in cloths. The King of kings is laid
among the straw. Upon a manger bed rests the delicate
newborn body of a boy child for whom a palace in the sky
would not be good enough. Yet, He receives no jeweled crib
or ermine coverlet. He receives no welcome at the inn. No
reception is organized by the city of David which had a
thousand years to prepare. Even in this place where His
royal house was established, its greatest King is born in
obscurity.
No crier
announces the fulfillment of the ages. No imperial honor
guard is marshaled to pay him tribute. No bells are rung, no
festival declared. The most powerful head of state, the Roman
Caesar, is unaware of the One before whom all emperors must
cast their crowns. The Syrian governor, Quirinius, whose name
would otherwise disappear from history were it not for the
Christmas story, is oblivious to the birth of this child of
the blood royal.
No
courtesy or consideration is offered his mother. No
accommodations are made. The baby Jesus, God Himself made
human flesh and legitimate heir to the throne of Israel is
afforded only a bed upon the fodder where ox and ass would
come to eat.
Won't
someone - anyone -- accord him at least some measure of
importance? Won't someone more than livestock gaze upon this
holy child? Where are the dignitaries? Where are the
celebrities, the men and women of renown? Shouldn't the most
prominent representative of church and state, of academia and
industry, of the armed services and the arts line the roads to
Bethlehem?
All this
long way Joseph and Mary had traveled. In obedience to a
civic order they had come from Nazareth in Galilee to the
Judean city of Bethlehem. Two more insignificant subjects of
Rome could not have been found, scraps of driftwood upon the
tide of history.
And the
boy to whom Mary gave birth, by the acclamation he does not
receive, by the place of honor he is not afforded, by the fact
He must rest his head, not on satin but on silage communicates
two things.
The world
is unworthy of Him.
And the
vastness of God's grace is infinitely greater than we know.
Yes, he "was in the world, and the world was made through
him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and
his own people did not receive him." (John 1:10-11) What
an ignominious people we are. What an embarrassment we are,
and appallingly disgraceful toward Him. It seems we always
can find the time to amuse ourselves, treat ourselves and
indulge our personal proclivities. We afford ourselves a
delicacy from time to time and even believe ourselves to
deserve it especially at Christmas time.
We deserve nothing.
We are not worthy of the God who would empty Himself, humble
himself, and condescend to have his first bed in a barn. Who
are we that God Himself should bear these indignities and
worse -- to carry our sin and be our suffering servant.
That God Himself would set aside every entitlement and dignity
He is due and forfeit even his own birthright is
incomprehensible to us. Jesus was born in the stable at
Bethlehem with no illusions. God expected no welcome and
demanded no courtesies because His whole thought was for you.
God did not take on our human nature with the intent to
receive anything except contempt, injury, sorrow, indignity,
and ultimately death.
And it all began at Bethlehem.
Even the tender picture of the baby Jesus in the hay washed
with soft starlight and surrounded by the mellow sounds of
mooing or a mother's lullaby disguise the cold, hard facts.
Yet, even
here God spares us. He gently takes us by His Word to the
grotto at Bethehem. He tenderly reveals the humility of God
the Son. He assuages our disregard of Him by even here
letting those tiny shoulders of the baby Jesus bear the
weight.
By rights, Luke 2, should open up on the impertinence of men
who will not welcome their Lord and King. But instead we are
treated with peace and concord. We hear again the wondrous
story.
"The time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth
to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and
laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in
the inn."
When we consider all that was not done for Him, all
that was denied Him, all that He deserved and we withheld, the
only reproach in the account of his birth is that "there
was no place for them in the inn."
From the very beginning God guides us with a light hand. The
tiny palm of the infant Jesus touches us again this Christmas,
and we are reminded not only of how unworthy we are but so
much more of how vast and marvelous, how sweet and wonderful
it is to have a Lord such as this.
Pastor Reed
© 2008
