Nine Lessons #6: Luke 2:1-7

 

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.)  And everyone went to their own town to register.

So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.  He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.  While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

Luke 2:1-7

Luke's narrative of Jesus' birth is factual and to the point - there is no poetry, no dramatic language, and no overt theological commentary.  However, it is the story itself which expresses so much about the nature of our Lord, by describing the way in which he came.  Jesus, the creator of the universe, not only came to earth as a helpless baby, but was born under political oppression (the Roman Empire), to parents from an obscure backwater (Nazareth in Galilee) and was not only born away from his family's home without his community around him but was born amongst the livestock because no guest room was available.  

We know this - we see nativity scenes every year - even though we possibly fail to grasp just how undignified and uncomfortable the whole situation must have been.  And yet it blows my mind every time.  Jesus didn't just come to be born - he came to die and rise to life again - but the nature of his birth oozes with the purpose of his coming.  He came to be one of us, and not just any one of us, but the most lowly and humble, the most oppressed and stricken.  He represents everyone.  Jesus' life, as we will even see by tomorrow's reading, is not one that only those of a certain social or moral standing can come and partake in.  And on this vein, Jesus' coming also continues to challenge me.  Do I love all those he came for?  Those on the margins?  Those who, for whatever reason, others do not consider worthy of love?  Of course, the answer is no - I do not and cannot live up to Jesus' perfect example (if I could, he wouldn't have even needed to die for me!), but I must continue to challenge myself nonetheless.

And finally, the most potent part of the story?  I can see my own sin.  There's a line in a song that refers to the crucifixion which says: ashamed, I hear my mocking voice call out among the scoffers*.   In the same way, I hear my own voice, pushing out those who might need my help, in Bethlehem that night: there was no guest room available for them.  We are perhaps reminded of Jesus' words in the 'Parable of the Sheep and the Goats: ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’ (Matthew 25:48).

When I was younger, my sister and I always used to hand out the candles and orders of service at the carol service at my Grandma's chapel.  We used the same order of service every year, and on the front it said: Make room for God this Christmas.   It's certainly an important application to take away.  However, we must also remember that Jesus does not remain on the margins.  Paul describes Christ's second coming as such: For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God (2 Thessalonians 4:16).  There will be little need to make room for Jesus when he comes again - everyone will know, and no one will be able to conveniently ignore him!  The only question will be whether we choose to put our trust in him.

*How deep the Father's love for us; Stuart Townend