Tuesday, December 25, 2012

My Christmas Holiday Activity: Reflecting on the Nativity . . .


It is Christmas day – December 25, 2012. I woke up very early this morning . . . about four a.m.  It is nothing unusual. I am an early riser – always have been. Today my mind was filled with thoughts of the Nativity. As I laid in bed, I tried to imagine what it really must have been like for Joseph and Mary.

In so doing, I could not help but think what the arrival of our first child was like for us on February 10, 1984. Win and I were living in the Midwest – in “Chicagoland” – where it can be bitterly cold during the winter months. [I mean, we are talking wind chills of -50 degrees Fahrenheit, and even lower].  That morning I was awakened about 1:00 a.m. by my sweetheart, who informed me that contractions were occurring at regular intervals, and that we needed to think about when to head for the hospital on that bone-chilling cold winter morning. As I recall, we arrived at the hospital about 5:00 a.m., and Win was immediately whisked away into a labor room, where I showed up minutes later with a mask on my face, a gown around my body, and slippers on my feet - and, of course, with my “daddy bag” in hand. That brown paper parcel had been “on call” in the fridge for at least a week, packed with a sandwich, cookies, a beverage and my favorite candy bar. I had been seriously warned in Lamaze class that my job as Win’s “coach” throughout labor was crucial. I was advised that because I would essentially be doing all of the hard work during this stage of child birth, I needed to be sure that I was both well-nourished and well-hydrated. [I don’t think Win exactly remembers it that way, but, hey, she was preoccupied with keeping track of the severity of the contractions and the length of time between each one. I had all I could do just trying to help her keep breathing properly]. About six hours later, our firstborn finally made his appearance, all dressed up in his birthday suit, loosely-wrapped in a blanket, and ready to party. And, he certainly was the main attraction and life of the party – constantly calling [screaming?] for everybody else’s attention. The nurses “oohed” and “aahed” over him, remarking what a beautiful little boy he was. The first time I saw his face, however, I realized that he wasn’t exactly a “Gerber” baby. He had what appeared to be more “acne” all over his face than I ever had throughout my entire adolescent years. But, he was my son. He was finally here. And I was exhausted. I kissed my wife and my boy, and excused myself. I needed to go home and sleep for the next three days.

So, I am wondering, what must it have been like for Joseph and Mary . . . and the baby? They had just made a seventy-eighty mile trip from Nazareth in the Galilee to Bethlehem of Judea with a very pregnant Mary perched on the back of a donkey for the entire journey. Realistically, their trek probably took up to a week. To make matters worse, there weren’t any hotels, motels, and/or B & B’s in town that could accommodate the travel-weary couple. Not to mention that there also wasn’t any reputable medical facility, with brightly waxed [or carpeted] hallways, and beautiful birthing rooms with the latest technology and medical instruments to ensure a safe delivery. Nor would there be a steady flow of nurses and other medical personnel to assist the delivery doctor. [Was there even a mid-wife present?]. Nothing was sanitized or sterilized. No, Jesus was born in a stable with squeaking, squawking, smelly animals. Perhaps the innkeeper and his wife brought a basin of warm water and a towel or two and assisted in the birth. Once Jesus arrived, there wasn’t any beautiful bassinette in which the infant could be placed to rest. Instead, there was a straw-filled feeding trough. If that wasn’t enough, suddenly the stable was crowded by a handful of shepherds who surprised the exhausted couple by showing up to celebrate the birth of a “Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” [Despite the way the story is depicted in many of our Christmas pageants today, the “wise men” did not arrive to pay homage to the Christ child until perhaps as much as two years later, when Joseph and Mary and their toddler were living in a house in town. See Matthew 2:11].

But, the question that burns in me today is, what must this have meant for the One theologians sometimes refer to as the “second member of the Trinity” to suddenly find Himself  “away in a manger, no crib for a bed?” As I rethink the idea of a cave or backyard barn serving as the birthing room for the very Son of God, I cannot help but cry out, “What condescension! What humiliation! Why?”  Perhaps the Apostle Paul helps us understand the reason for it all in his brief letter to the Philippian congregation, where he writes,

Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death—and the worst kind of death at that—a crucifixion. [Philippians 2:5-8, Message]

This passage speaks so eloquently of the humility and selflessness of the Lord Jesus Christ. Not only for Him to take on humanity, but also to assume the status of a slave is unthinkable. Yet this humiliation was part of a bigger eternal plan to offer redemption and reconciliation to man. In the execution of this Divine plan, Jesus would eventually and incredibly have to experience betrayal, trial[s], denial, desertion – all leading to his execution by the cruelest of means imaginable: crucifixion. How “spot on” William Rees was when he penned these words in 1876:    
                                                                                                                                                                                      
Here is love, vast as the ocean,
Lovingkindness as the flood,
When the Prince of Life, our Ransom,
Shed for us His precious blood.
Who His love will not remember?
Who can cease to sing His praise?
He can never be forgotten,
Throughout Heav’n’s eternal days.

Thankfully, the paragraph we quoted from in Philippians 2 does not end with verse 8. Depending on the translation, the next verse begins with the word “therefore,” or “because”…

Because of that obedience, God lifted him high and honored him far beyond anyone or anything, ever, so that all created beings in heaven and on earth—even those long ago dead and buried—will bow in worship before this Jesus Christ, and call out in praise that he is the Master of all, to the glorious honor of God the Father. [Philippians 2:9-11, Message].

*  *  *

It is now early afternoon on Christmas day, 2012. It is still bitter cold outdoors [11 degrees], but the sky is clear and the bright rays of sunshine are causing what is left of last week’s foot of snow to glisten ever so brightly. I am still pondering the Nativity story. The past few minutes I have been praying, asking the Lord to impress upon me what He wants me to take away from these hours of meditation. He redirected my thoughts to the verse that introduces the wonderful theological section of Philippians 2. “Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of Himself” [Philippians 2:5, Message].  Or, in the words of my translation of choice these days, “Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus” [Philippians 2:5, NKJV]. In other words, His Words call me to think and then to act like Christ. [Of course, right thinking leads to right doing]. Integrity, dignity, humility and charity in what I believe will eventually and inevitably result in a selflessness and other-centeredness in the way I behave. Just like Jesus . . .

Today I have determined that I need to be, and I want to be . . . more like Christ!

Merry Christmas, world!

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