A Contamination of Christmas

Frederick Buechner once described Mary giving birth to Jesus in this way: "squatting there in the straw with her thighs wrenched apart, while out of her pain she dropped into the howling world something that looked like nothing so much as raw beefsteak: who was the one the angel had said was to be called Holy, the Son of the Most High: who was the Word itself fleshed with - of all flesh - hers."

Did he just say that? Yikes! I would count it too crude of a way to talk about our Savior if it weren't for one thing - it is entirely fitting! That's the point of Christmas, that God made himself into nothing - a squalling, naked, squirming child. The flesh that we have corrupted, he clothed himself with. Through the agonizing, somewhat traumatizing process of childbirth that has been cursed since the Fall of man, God's Son entered this world. Into the pitiful, impoverished, unsterilized world, Jesus was born, taking his first nap in a donkey's feeding tray after being nursed by his mother. We must not decontaminate this Christmas!

Although I appreciate our Nativities (we have several) and our Christmas bedtime stories (we read several to Judah), we need to dirty up the scene a bit. In a manner of speaking, we need to re-contaminate our Nativity scenes, debase our Christmas stories, adulterate our Advent wreaths! If we fail to do so, Christmas will be impotent, a few days of the year that might as well be called Winter Break. A Jesus who is born into the world pretty and pink and "no crying he makes" in an immaculate four star stable is not the reason for the season! A Jesus born into suffering, poverty, and weakness - the human condition - that is the reason.

So let's befoul the modern version of the Christmas story for a minute. This is no silent night, but a night pierced with the wails of a woman giving birth and - eventually - the shrill cry of a newborn. And this newborn is not clean and pink, but blue while he takes his first breaths, red with the stain of placenta and blood, and cheese yellow from the vernix layer. This unfortunate child is born not into a hospital with clean sheets and a warm blanket, but onto the floor of a stable that still smelled of the day’s manure. And the only thing sterile about the manger the baby laid in is the mule that typically takes his meals there. Unless you count the restless chickens, the baby did not have nurses checking his vitals, nor did the woman have a doctor attending to her. Not only did none of God's people show up to visit and celebrate the birth God's Son, none of Joseph or Mary's relatives showed up! And Joseph was in his hometown! But no one cared about the birth of this child – not the innkeeper, not Joseph's best friend from high school, and not the distant relatives in town. Well, wait a second, they did have a few visitors - that handful of dirty shepherds with moonshine still on their breath. If it weren't for the spiritual realities behind the moment, this would be one foul Christmas.

I don't know if that is exactly how it happened, but it's certainly closer to the truth than what our modern festivities would have you believe. We are making Christmas beautiful and pristine with the idea of honoring God. But in our cleaned up versions of the birth story we are actually accomplishing the opposite and obscuring the truth! By doing so we lose the great purpose of the Incarnation of Jesus - his Crucifixion. His suffering began the moment he exited Mary's womb and it was "finished" at the Cross. The Christmas of Matthew and Luke begins a road that is meant to lead us to Golgotha and therefore to salvation. There is no doubt that a miracle took place at Christmas, a miracle that is worth thoughtful rituals and joyful carols (and blog posts). By all means let the festivities continue! But let us not forget that the miracle we celebrate is that God's Son was willing to make himself nothing for our sake.

Merry Christmas!

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