Blogger: Wendy Lawton
As we take another look at the event that changed all history, I think the setting– a humble stable, probably little more than a cave hewn out of the earth– bears a closer examination.
Our Christmas celebrations call for decking the halls with an abundance of gilt and sparkle, light and glitter. I’ll admit I’m guilty of this as we decorate our house both inside and out. We have two Christmas trees loaded with treasured ornaments. Every surface is decorated and icicle lights hang from the eaves.
But that first Christmas took place in a stable. When we think of the birthplace of Jesus our perception has been tainted by exquisite Fontanini nativities and Renaissance paintings. We picture the artistic crèche of Christmas that is lovingly familiar, with angels at hand and shepherds kneeling reverently before the manger. Our children may be picturing a Veggie Tales nativity or a plastic nativity playset.
I had to laugh when my friend (and client) Virginia Smith posted this about her two-and-a-half-year-old grandson on her Facebook page: “Dominic came over tonight. We were playing with the Nativity set, pointing out the figures. Dominic says, ‘Here’s the Mommy, and here’s the Daddy, and here’s the baby Jesus in his car seat.’ Then he says, ‘Oh, no! The baby Jesus needs his butt changed. Here.’ (Grabs up an angel.) ‘The fairy can change his butt.'” Too funny, but not probably that far off from some of the misconceptions we have.
Here in dairy country, we know stables. Trust me, they do not smell of cedar and cinnamon. God could have chosen a palace as the birthplace of his Son, but he chose a stable. Unless it had just been mucked out, Jesus’ birthplace would have been less like an exquisitely sculpted nativity scene and more likely to make Mary gag. Picture piles of manure pushed up against the walls, flies buzzing and mildewed hay. Yet out of that rank stable came the Savior of the world.
The stable helps us realize that the Lord rarely comes to us as we expect him to. My friend (and client) Marlene Chase said it in a poem far better than I can ever say it:
THE UNCONTAINABLE
The uncontainable
bridges the vaulted dome of sky,
rides the wind from east to west,
cups oceans in His hands.
Who can hold him –
Master of the Universe, Holy One –
Filling every space?
The uncontainable
allowed Himself to be contained –
The Holy of Holies in a tabernacle box
with manna, stone and Aaron’s rod.
Later a trough
for feeding hungry sheep and cows
carried the Christ of God.
The uncontainable
Lay in a crypt of chiseled stone-
damp and dark and deadly cold
where lizards crawled and mosses crept.
The uncontainable,
Holy of Holies, delights now to dwell
in a humble jar of clay.
—Marlene Chase
Wendy, what a beautiful post. I already had a fairly accurate picture in my mind of where Jesus was born, but you added details that make it even more real to me. I am forever amazed that 1) Jesus would choose to contain Himself within the form of a baby, one born in a dirty, smelly manger of all places. Talk about love personified. He came in a way that made it so no one person was too low to come to Him, if they will.
Thank you for the reminder that Jesus came. Simply. Humbly. In an unexpected way. He came in love.
Beautiful. I love your line “the Lord rarely comes to us as we expect him to.” Isn’t that the truth!!! But over and over I am amazed by His work in my life. Even now as we got some rough news this weekend, I simply ask God to come. I now wait to see His glory in the situation as I know He’ll show up in an unexpected way.
Tari,thank you for the reminder to wait expectantly.
Love the post and the poem.
And that “humble jar of clay” is just as rank as the stable.
Merry Christmas.
Love this post, Wendy. What a wonderful poem. We were talking a little bit about this at Sunday school last week. The kids are older now, which allows me to expand our discussions. I feel helping them realize exactly how Jesus came to us can make them more grateful for the greatest gift of all.
I am blessed to live within a decent driving distance of The Creation Museum. Their Christmastown and living nativity are a highlight of our Christmas celebrations. However, their stable does not have piles of manure or buzzing flies. I’m thankful for that! But I appreciate your vivid description. As in all good writing, it makes me feel it and see it and smell it more. What an incredible act of sacrifice! Thanks, Wendy, and have a wonderful and blessed Christmas!
After giving birth to my first child, I could never look at the Nativity the same way. I had my husband and mom with me in a state-of-the-art facility with all the modern conveniences and comforts available – and it was still one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. To think that Mary was a young woman without her mother or other female relatives with her, a young man who she was just beginning to know by her side, on a manure infested ground, bringing forth the Savior of the World, is one of the most humble pictures we can possibly conjure up. “Instead, God chose things the world considers foolish in order to shame those who think they are wise. And he chose things that are powerless to shame those who are powerful.” 1 Corinthians 1:27 (NLT)
Gabrielle, I think a lot about Mary when I look at Nativity scenes. After a long ride, she went into labor in a strange place. How she must have longed for her mother! Then, after giving birth, she had a bunch of strangers show up. It may have affirmed for her that she hadn’t imagined the conversation with the angel Gabriel and she must have been in wonder about her baby boy, but still, she must have just wanted to go to sleep!
Never thought of the “piles of manure”.
He was born humbly and died humbly. Have a Merry Christmas Wendy.
By the way do you put out Christmas dolls that you made for display around your house?
Indeed, Wendy, you remind us that the very first Christmas was about love, bright and true.
How wonderful would it be if our society celebrated Christmas in such a way, that just as Jesus came to us in the most humble of places, that we as a nation reach out to those in darkness with the true Light.
I grew up on a farm, and I liked the barn. But the hay was prickly and buggy, the barn cats kept the rodent population only to a minimum, and the muck and manure stunk. It was fine for play, but I’ll sleep in my cozy bedroom, thank you, and give birth on clean sheets under good lights in a private place.
I can picture the pregnant Mary hemming baby blankets while Joseph crafted a cradle. Did they accept God’s change in their plans as graciously and serenely as it appears in our manger scenes? As Mary labored in the stable, did she cry out against God’s place and timing? I can only imagine.
Thank you, Wendy, for sharing this insightful poem.
Your description of the stable smells reminds me of driving into the Central Valley with the odor of damp hay drifting across the foggy roadways.
Merry Christmas to you Wendy!
Beautiful. God does come in unexpected places and people. I like to keep my heart wide open to meet the unexpected.
But if He came with gold, and silver and was immediately acknowledged as the King, how many of us would shy away and not even try to get close to Him? Because He understand the lowest of the low, then I’m not afraid of approaching His humble throne.
Excellent point. In Jesus, God is approachable.
Ha ha! I’ve cleaned a few barns in my time, and you’re right—they don’t smell that great. But when they’re filled with fresh straw and an extra furry horse with his winter coat nuzzles up to you, they aren’t too bad. : )
Merry Christmas!
Beautiful descriptive post. I could almost smell the stable!
Darn, Wendy, I gotta disagree with you here.
From age eight, I lived on a farm and then married a farmer/rancher so I can say I’ve been closely aligned with barns and stables. Stables are usually known as the place for horses. Barns hold the cows. In Bethlehem, they probably (guessing here) had only one building for all farm animals.
I cannot believe however, that God the Great Creator, the Majestic Sovereign over the earth would allow his precious Son to be brought into this world in a dirty smelly barn. I would bet money that, for no reason at all, the owner of the stable had ordered his servants to scrub that place from roof to floor the day before. That he had insisted on fresh new straw to lay for bedding. Deep and thick. That all the water and feed troughs were scrubbed with soap and dried with towels. I am certain, that God sent instructions, albeit silent ones, and they were followed to the letter so that the birthplace of Jesus was clean and welcoming for Mary.
Mary would have been laid on the straw in a portion of the stable which did not have any animals near it. I would assume two or three blankets were put down first, which is actually just like people up to our twentieth century made matresses. A big cloth sack, stuffed with fresh strw, a la Laura Ingalls Wilder. Many many people have slept in barns and even hay stacks, (the loose variety.) It would have been very comfortable for her.
Do you think she was not attended? Every woman in that inn was on their feet, doing for her. The area midwife sent for immediately. Yes, she may have been in an usual place, but she was not alone or forsaken.
And because they had no cradle, what better place to put the baby than in the manger. Wall on back. Wall on front. Up off the ground with warm thick straw to cushion his body. No way for him to roll or fall or be injured, while at the same time being kept from the reach of any inquiring person or animal. Nah. God had it all figured out and it was good.
Merry Christmas!
Interesting insight!
Beautiful post, Wendy.
I love your contrast to the actual birth of Christ and the way we celebrate today. The reminder how God chose to send His son to be born in humility is profound.
Marlene’s poem is lovely and convicting. Thank you for sharing.
And the words of a small child speak so simply from the heart, without an adult check to be politically correct. A lesson in innocence.
Merry Christmas, dear lady. May God continue blessing you and your family.
Hi Wendy,
I so appreciate what Books & Such is doing with this series. What a gentle reminder of the real purpose of this holiday – the humble birth of our SAVIOR. I LOVE that He was born in the lowliest of lowlies…those of us who’ve been there know that He’s been there, too. I often think about Mary’s and Joseph’s reception in Bethlehem – it was home to them. Why did no family open their doors to Joseph and his obviously pregnant wife? Why did no one take them in? I would venture to guess that it was because of the stigma still hovering over them due to Mary’s “illegitimate” pregnancy and Joseph’s willingness to marry her anyway. Jesus was born under the shadow of sin…and yet He knew no sin. He was born to parents who’d been ostracized and put out by their own relatives…yet they stayed obedient. I LOVE that He came to us from an outcasts’ sanctuary; from outcasts who didn’t give up, who stayed faithful and obedient.
Thank you for sharing your heart, and thank you, Marlene, for the beautiful poetry.
Blessings,
Becky Doughty
Thank you for your reflection, Wendy.
Yes, God has a tendency to surprise us. Which is good. It makes us sit up and take notice. And think.
From “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” 3rd verse:
“Hail! the heav’n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail! the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings…
[and] mild He lays His glory by
Born that men no more may die.”
There is a tendency, it seems to me, to separate Christmas and Easter and celebrate them as if they were individual holy days and holidays, yet they so completely connected. And Good Friday is so little acknowledged these days. Yet Christmas is the first step towards Good Friday and Good Friday is the pathway to Easter–God’s three-fold mystery of life, death and resurrection.
“Jesus accepted even death
Death upon the cross.”
In choosing to be born as one of us, God chose to experience death so that we might live. I don’t mean to be gloomy, but I agree with you that we, as a society and as Christians, have settled into a comfortably romantic version of Christmas. I love the lights and the candy canes and the joy of the contemporary celebration of Christmas, but I pray that all Christians will reflect–as you and the other Books and Such agents have–on the significance of the holy day. There is cause for rejoicing, not because a sweet little baby was born in a manager, but because God loves us so much that He wanted to live among us, to converse with us, to minister to us, to teach us, to heal us, and to die for love of us in order that we might be reconciled with Him and live with Him forever. And He came back among us after He died to show that He had power even over death and that we need not fear. All is well. That message starts in the Old Testament, continues with the angel’s message to Mary and begins to be fulfilled in that stable on Christmas morn. God keeps His promises. God-Among-Us is born! All is well.
“Born to raise us from the earth
Born to give us second birth
Hark! The herald angels sing,
‘Glory to the newborn King!'”
Merry Christmas, Wendy, and a peace-filled New Year!
Beautiful post and beautiful poem–thank you! Neat to read everyone’s insights and comments too.
What an amazing poem!