All We Want for Christmas

The scriptures referred to are Luke 2:1-20.

There was no Christmas tree on the first Christmas. There were no presents. (The wise men came much later.) There were no candles. (They used little clay oil lamps.) There was no singing. (In a distant field angels praised God and, we are told, spoke to some shepherds.) There was no church service. There was no drummer boy.

There was excitement but it wasn't in anticipation of a party. It was the anxiety caused by a woman suddenly going into labor. Contrary to the traditional picture of the family being consigned to a stable, due to a mistranslation and a misunderstanding of the layout a first century house, Mary probably gave birth in the main room of a house belonging to one of Joseph's relatives. After all, he came from Bethlehem and must have had property there he had to register for taxation. So he probably had family there, however distant. And the rule of Middle Eastern hospitality would mean they would take him and his pregnant fiancée in. They had no room in the guest room (that's what Luke wrote, not “inn”) so they would have invited them into the one room where the family did all their living. It was on two levels. At night the family would bring their animals in to stay on the lower level, separated from the raised family room by a feeding trough, the manger they hastily laid the unexpected newborn in for want of a better place.

So rather than the tranquil, reverent scene we imagine, there was a frantic improvised air to what happened. It started when Mary's water broke and she started having contractions. Someone, perhaps a child, a young cousin of Jesus, would be sent for the village's midwife. What little furniture they had would be moved out of the way. Mary would be laid in the middle of the room, writhing and crying in pain. There would be amniotic fluid to be mopped up. Joseph and the menfolk and the animals would be shooed out of the house while his sister or sister-in-law or cousin and any other women present, perhaps even a older girl child, would make preparations. The midwife would arrive and take charge. She and the other women would raise Mary up and put her on the birthing stool and encourage her at the right time to push. Joseph would be outside, hearing Mary's cries, feeling useless and helpless. His brother or cousin would be trying to calm him down, cracking lame jokes or, worse, telling him horror stories of his wife's previous labors. There were no cigarettes to smoke, no coffee to drink. Joseph could only wait. And pray.

Inside all the women would be focused on Mary. Her pains would be getting stronger and closer together. It would have gone on for hours. Periodically between contractions the midwife would firmly but gently try to ascertain the position of the baby. And then it was time and the women would urge Mary to push and she would grit her teeth and push, in spite of the pain. And finally the top of the baby's head would appear and then the whole head and the midwife would ease the shoulders out and the rest of the slippery baby would come out into her hands. The midwife would take it and clean out its nose and mouth with her finger. And it would grimace and sneeze and start to cry. And the midwife would tell Mary it was a boy, tie and cut the cord and hand it off to the other women to clean. They would wash it and rub its skin with salt and wrap it tightly in bands of cloth. And just as Mary relaxed the midwife would tell her she wasn't done yet. She still had to deliver the placenta.

When all was done the men would be readmitted as well as any of the older children who had not been sent to stay with the neighbors for the night. And Joseph would see their son for the first time. He might be a little disconcerted that, in order to clean up Mary and the room, they had laid the baby in the feeding trough. The animals being brought in would be looking at it with varying degrees of curiosity or not. Some might be trying to eat the straw around the baby only to be shooed away by one of the women.

Then there would be a knock at the door. Joseph's relative would answer it only to find a bunch of shepherd boys, babbling about angels and the Messiah and wanting to see the baby. And Joseph's relative look at Joseph and Joseph would look blankly back at him. Then Joseph would look at Mary who would look back, exhausted as if to say, “You handle this.” And then with a shrug, Joseph would indicate they be let in. And the boys would come in and ooo! and ahh! at the child and the baby's cousins would show him off proudly, as if they had had something to do with it.

And then it would be time for Mary to nurse the baby and everyone would be ushered out again.

Mary's parents would not be their to see the birth of their grandchild. Nor could she call them or text them or Facetime them or put everybody on a Zoom call. Her parents, and likely Joseph's, would not know what happened for a long time.

Nor would the days to come be without anxiety. Infant and child mortality was high. 50% of all children did not make it to the age of 5. There were no vaccinations, no germ theory, nothing we would call proper medical knowledge or care. Mothers, too, died of complications or infections after giving birth. Many people knew the heartbreak of death following shortly after what should have been a joyous occasion, a new birth. Parents mourned their dead children. Husbands mourned their dead wives. Grandparents mourned daughters and grandchildren. So everyone would be watching Mary and Jesus for any signs of ill health. The midwife would make regular visits to make sure they were fine.

And that is how Jesus came into the world. There were none of the trappings of what we call Christmas these days. There were just people, anxious, in pain, separated, lonely, confused, feeling useless and helpless, in a place they hadn't anticipated being, coming together in a crisis, trying to make everything come out all right for everyone. Kinda like today.

God did not come into a world where everything was fine, where people were well off and had everything they needed and wanted. He came into a world where there were problems. He came into a world where people had needs. They needed love. They needed peace. They needed courage. They needed faithfulness. They needed healing. They needed hope. They needed God. Kinda like today.

And God came. And he came in the same messy, painful way we all come into this world. He came not as a king. He came not as a superhero. He came not as a warrior. He came as Jesus. In him we find love, we find peace, we find courage, we find faithfulness, we find healing, we find hope.

For a good Christmas we don't need all the things we have come to think we do. We need Jesus. In him we find all that we need...and more than we could ever want.