When you picture God, what come to mind? A stately King on his throne? A grandfatherly type with a beard? A disembodied being? It’s hard to picture God—and for good reason, since no one can look at his face and live to tell.
And that is true . . . to a point. But then Christmas comes and shatters all our preconceived notions. Christmas comes, and we have to rewrite our narrative of who God is and what he is like. Christmas comes, and we no longer have a God in the abstract. Christmas comes, and we have a God whose face we can gaze into, a God in flesh and blood.
After Jesus was born, Scripture says Mary “pondered these things in her heart.” I’ve always loved the idea of Mary pondering, but now I know why she pondered. When you are sitting there nursing your newborn son in the middle of the night, when everyone else is asleep and no one is posting anything new on Instagram, there is little to do besides ponder.
Among the things Mary must have pondered: The Christmas carols have it all wrong. It was not a silent night. All was not calm. I’m pretty sure there was blood and tears and labor pains. And the bit about “no crying he makes”? My apologies to the writer of “Away in a Manger,” but I’m pretty sure the little Lord Jesus cried.
This Christmas, as I hold my own baby son in my arms, I am struck anew by the sheer scandal of the incarnation. I can understand why the old hymn writers presented a scrubbed version of the manger scene. After all, how could a holy God allow himself to be covered in spit-up? How could the God of creation pee right through his swaddling cloths?
God entered our humanity completely—not just the beautiful, put-together parts, but also the messy parts, the sad parts, the ugly parts. He knows firsthand what it’s to be awake in the middle of the night. He knows what it is to be hungry, to cry, to be human.
So why would he do it? Why give up glory and honor in favor of late-night feedings and tears and dirty diapers? In a word: love.
Though he was God,
he did not think of equality with God
as something to cling to.
Instead, he gave up his divine privileges;
he took the humble position of a slave
and was born as a human being.
~Philippians 2:6-7
May we ponder the Incarnation in a fresh way this year—the scandalous reality that God would allow himself to come to us in the flesh. Ponder it now—the God of the universe, with a body we could hold. With a voice we could hear. With a face we could kiss.
God in flesh and blood.
’Twas much that we were made like God long before, but that God should be made like us, much more.
John Donne
Thank you for your sweet story. All 4 of my children are grown and I have 6 grandchildren. Your story definitely brought back memories of rocking babies in the middle of the night. I hope your newborn baby boy is doing well. Wishing you a Merry and Blessed Christmas!
Thank you, Bonnie! It is such a special Christmas as we see it through new eyes.
So why would he do it? Why give up glory and honor in favor of late-night feedings and tears and dirty diapers? In a word: love.
So true and encouraging, Stephanie. Thank you and have a joyous thankful Christmas!
Joy to you this Christmas too, Eva!
Oh, Stephanie. This is so perfect. Such a good reminder and there is something especially Holy about Christmas for a new Mother. I remember. Our youngest was born Dec. 1st and I remember standing in church near Christmas time as he was dedicated. I asked them to play “God with Us” by Mercy Me and read something I wrote for him. His middle name is Immanuel after all. Enjoy this season with your new son! Thank you for reminding us of the seeing eyes of a new mother, it’s easy to forget when they grow so fast.
Immanuel–what a great middle name! Love it.
You are feeling the depth of God’s love that only parenting can even approximate. Being a parent is holiness-making work! This telling is such a beautiful example of how he’s begun a new literary assignment in you for us.
“Being a parent is holiness-making work”–what a great way to put it! Thanks, Cheryl.