As we get closer to Christ-mas I am thinking about the wonder of Christ’s birth. Merriam-Webster defines wonder as the quality of Exciting, Amazed Admiration. We’ve heard the Christ-mas story so many times, perhaps we’ve lost a bit of that Exciting, Amazed Admiration.
Joseph and Mary had to travel eighty miles to Bethlehem. God orchestrated through a heathen kingdom (Rome) their arrival to that insignificant village where seven hundred years earlier Micah had prophesied the Messiah would be born (Micah 5:2)
It would have been a miserable journey with Mary full term. It ended up in a place that was more than likely filthy and smelly. Inns in those days were mainly a series of partially enclosed stalls that opened into a shared area where the animals were kept. When Luke said there was no room for them in the inn, he meant there was no room for them in those stalls. They likely ended up in the yard where travelers secured their animals.
Mary had traveled all this way, far from her family, far from the female support system she would have had at home. She was probably around 14-16 years old. She was alone, except for Joseph. She had no birthing coach, no meds, no clean sheets, no soft music playing, no attendants – just Joseph. His hands would have been calloused and rough from his work. He was good at working wood, probably not so good at midwifing.
And into this miserable, wretched, dishonorable scene, the Son of God was born. “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.” [Luke 2:7]
If that doesn’t take our breath away in Exciting, Amazed Admiration, I’m not sure anything will.
The King became a pauper. God became a babe, completely dependent upon a young teenager for sustenance and a rough carpenter for protection. Wonder of wonders!
