A Christmas Story

Last post before the end of the world!

Or not.

Actually, it is the end of the world. In a way. It’s nearly the end of the Advent world, the end of the waiting game for Jesus to be born, the end of longing for a Messiah, the end of pleading, “Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel,” and nearly the time of rejoicing that, “Joy to the world! The Lord is come!” It’s almost the end of our seemingly incessant beseeching of God to deliver us.

That is if the Mayans were wrong.

Or if we were wrong in our interpretations of what the Mayans said.

Which we probably are. After all, Jesus himself says he doesn't know when the end is coming, and I’m thinking that if Jesus isn't privy to the information then we’re probably not high on the disclosure list.

But back to Advent.

I've been thinking and studying a lot on this Christmas story (Advent Bible studies are funny that way,) and I have come to realize that this is one of the most messed-up, backwards, illogical, irrational stories in the whole of Scripture. At least by our human standards. I’m sure it makes perfect sense to God since he’s the one who orchestrated the whole thing, and our little tiny human pea brains aren't supposed to know the mind of God anyway. We’d probably just short circuit. So why is it so cattywhompus? Let’s break it down.

Luke 1:26-37

²⁶ In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, ²⁷ to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. ²⁸ The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

²⁹ Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. ³⁰ But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. ³¹ You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. ³² He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, ³³ and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”

³⁴ “How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”

³⁵ The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. ³⁶ Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month. ³⁷ For nothing is impossible with God.”

³⁸ “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me as you have said.” Then the angel left her.

Talking angels aside, this story is weird right from the start. Mary is probably a teenager, Joseph is probably a middle-aged man (admittedly, “middle-aged” in ancient Judea was probably about 30,) and neither of them is expecting this. To be fair, who would expect it? This is major news, a huge change to the daily routine, something way out of the ordinary, beyond human scope. They’re not exactly well-off. I mean sure, they can supply their daily needs, but it’s not like Jesus was born into Herod’s family. He wasn't born to nobles or people high in the social strata. He’s not even born into a priestly family like his cousin, John. Mary and Joseph are plain, normal, totally unassuming. Totally…real and relatable.

Take Mary’s question in verse 34. This has more to it than just basic biology, and it’s a completely “real” inquiry. Sure, she knows that there are certain marital rights that need to be enacted in order to make a child in the traditional way, but it’s also a cultural thing. Being betrothed was serious business. If Mary is found to be pregnant outside of wedlock she is considered an adulteress, the punishment for which is death by stoning. God said so himself. (It’s in Leviticus.) She could have protested wildly (and I think rightly) that if God wants her to give birth to the Messiah, then it won’t do much good if she’s killed in accordance with her religion’s laws laid out centuries ago by God Hisownself. But she doesn't  She knows that God is bigger than the laws. This is the first glimpse of him saying, “Yeah, I said that, but you've missed the point entirely. Watch and wait. This will all turn out right.”

I think this is partially why God chooses Mary—practically a child. Age has nothing to do with bearing children for God (see also Sarah and Elizabeth) but Mary’s age is not God’s concern for her physically; her age allows her to still function with a child-like wonder. When Zechariah questions God’s actions at the announcement of John’s conception he asks, “How can I be sure of this? How do I know you’re telling the truth? We’re old!” His questions come from a place of fear and doubt. Which is why the angel says, “Because I’m an angel of the Lord, you numb-skull! I am Gabriel who has stood before the very presence of God and was sent here to bring you this good news. Now shut up!” (I may have paraphrased that.) Zechariah selfishly asks for proof of God’s work. When Mary asks, “How can this be since I am a virgin?” she doesn't ask for her own benefit, she’s genuinely curious. It’s her child-like curiosity and not her fear that prompt the question. She does not ask for proof, she doesn't ask, “Why me?,” she doesn't even ask for details, she just says, “Okay.” Adults ask too many questions for all the wrong reasons. There’s a purpose to Jesus telling us to be more like children.

Now let’s back up just a bit to verses 32 and 33. Gabriel tells Mary that the child she will give birth to will be king like “his father David” and will “reign over the house of Jacob.” Pretty cool stuff, really. But this is a patriarchal society. Bloodlines, heirs, and birthrights are traced through the father’s lineage. We've already established that Mary is a virgin and that Joseph has no biological presence in this kid’s life. Joseph is Jesus’ adopted father. Yet the family line is still traced through him. We discover in chapter 2 of this saga that it is Joseph who is of the house and lineage of David, and the Gospels lay out clearly that is through Joseph that Jesus’ line goes direct to King David. This sticks with God’s pattern of choosing the youngest and the least to do the most and the greatest. Even though Joseph has no biological ties to his first-born son, God says that’s no barrier to the patriarchy. It’s the relationship that’s important, not the blood line. After all, Joseph allows Mary to live and does not stone her to death for being pregnant before their marriage. He stands by her and believes her wild tale of talking angels and old cousins (and yes, the dream helps.) He does not allow her to become the center of public ridicule, and he fights for his family’s survival from day one. And aren't those all the qualities of a father?

Luke 2:1-7

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. ² (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) ³ And everyone went to his own town to register.

⁴ So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. ⁵ He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. ⁶ While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, ⁷ and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Nothing about this is right. As a woman, I’m filled with a righteous indignation for Mary in this situation. I've never been pregnant, so I can’t empathize there, but I know that from a medical standpoint traveling in your third trimester—late in your third trimester—is not a good idea. Especially when it’s travelling 80 miles on foot through the desert. We assume that there was a donkey for Mary to ride, which is probably historically accurate, but the Gospels never mention it and it really doesn't make the story that much better. I can just see Mary being sea-sick the entire time.

Making matters worse, she is alone. Yes, Joseph is there, but during times of feminine crisis a woman just needs her mother. And her sisters. And her aunts and cousins and friends. It’s just the way things work. In all likelihood this would have been how Mary gave birth had she been allowed to stay in Nazareth. Her time would have come and her family and friends would have been there to help her through it; to put cool cloths on her forehead; to rub her aching feet and back; to hold and comfort her. In Bethlehem, she has Joseph and a barn full of animals. I’m sure Joseph made a lovely midwife, and as my friend Jane pointed out this was probably the first father-attended birth in the history of the world, but it’s a socially, culturally, and gender-ly bizarre situation.

To add insult to injury, there’s no place for the Holy Family to stay. They’ve traveled 80 miles across the desert and now there’s no bed to sleep in. This part of the story has always irked me. What innkeeper in his right mind would look at a pregnant lady who’s about to give birth and say, “Well, there’s always the barn.” You mean to tell me he couldn't have offered the barn to anyone else in the inn and given Mary at least a pallet on the floor? No one else saw Mary in her predicament and volunteered to sleep with the cows? Where was Social Services for cryin’ out loud?! What prophecy does being born in a barn fulfill?

It doesn't. But it is humbling. The Savior of the world doesn't even get the luxury of being born inside. How many other poor mothers gave birth wherever they were? How many other children were born into utter poverty with no one to witness their birth but the beasts of the field? How many mothers today—here, in this century—have only a shack to protect them as they fight for their survival and for the survival of their children? How lowly can you get? The whole point of Jesus is that he was born human just like us in the meanest of circumstances. He started out as the last, the least, the most looked-over right from the cradle.

Luke 2:8-20

⁸ And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. ⁹ An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. ¹⁰ But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. ¹¹ Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. ¹² This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

¹³ Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

¹⁴ “Glory to God in the highest,
    and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”

¹⁵ When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

¹⁶ So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. ¹⁷ When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, ¹⁸ and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. ¹⁹ But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. ²⁰ The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

This part of the Christmas story has quickly become my favorite because it is the most ridiculous. I lived in Northern Ireland for a year. There are lots of sheep in Northern Ireland. I learned a lot about sheep during my time there. Sheep are many things. Fascinating is not one of them. Watching a herd of sheep in the daytime is boring enough. Keeping watch over a flock at night would be downright dull. Mind-numbingly dull. And shepherds aren't exactly the top of the social totem pole. They aren't typically seen as people of high standing in ancient social circles, and are probably near the bottom of the Roman, Jewish, and Barbara Walters’ “List of Most Influential People.”

And yet here come the angels! I’m sure the shepherds were grateful for the divine distraction, but from a purely marketing standpoint this is not the best target audience for revealing the Best Thing Ever. I mean go big or go home if you’re going to do something incredible, right? God should’ve gone big. Don’t go shepherds, go kings! Go Twitter! Go Facebook! Go Tumblr and Web! Go Google! Go Apple! Go famous celebs! (Yes, that just happened.) Don’t just tell the night shift at the landfill; tell the mayor!

Except that’s not how God does things. He’s already asked the humblest couple to do the most incredible thing in the humblest place. He might as well as the humblest people to bear witness to the Best Thing Ever. So he goes for the last and least. Again. Jesus was born—is born—for everyone, from king to commoner; but he came especially for the downtrodden and destitute. It only makes sense that they are the ones who greet him at his birth.

So God chooses a teenage virgin to bear the Savior of the World and allows his all-important lineage to be traced through the child’s adopted father. The Messiah is born in the lowest and meanest of birthing suites, and the only ones around to give evidence of his birth are some barn-yard work animals and a group of well-meaning but slightly-off farm hands. The whole thing is upside-down and backwards. But that’s okay, because God always seems to do things in a way that appears upside-down and backwards. Despite the teenage mother; despite the adopted father; despite the barn and the manger and the shepherds and all their smelly sheep, the Best Thing Ever is the Greatest Story Ever. And we’re still talking about it, still wondering about it, still studying and blogging about it. The shepherds may not have been the marketing department’s first choice, but they certainly did a first-rate job.

For me, I think I’ll learn to love the upside-down and backwards. I prefer the right-side-up and forward, but God doesn't appear to work that way. It’s not exactly easy here, waiting for the end of the world and all, but ease isn't part of the story. Gabriel spends a lot of time saying, “Peace! Don’t be afraid! Here’s what’s gonna happen.” He never says, “Peace! Don’t be afraid! This is gonna be super easy.” So I guess I need to learn to love the messed-up and illogical, the upside-down and backwards, and to welcome shepherds even when I’m expecting kings and not take out my frustrations on the innkeeper. This is all a process, of course. I’m still waiting for it all to come together. In the meantime, I’ll put my feet up, pour myself another glass of eggnog, contemplate the Christmas tree, and take a page from Mary’s book.

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.