Christmas has come and gone, but still I reflect on the birth of Christ. Many of the cards hanging from strings in our red kitchen depict a peaceful scene of Mary, Joseph, Jesus, and some sheep. Everything is clean and peaceful. But the birth of our Saviour was neither clean nor peaceful.
After a long journey through the dust of the Middle East, Mary and Joseph arrived in Bethlehem, only to be turned away from inn after inn. Finally they were given lodging in a stable, amongst the stench of cow manure, sheep urine, and rotten straw. Soon after, Mary gave birth to God, the King of Kings. Yet he, in his mind-blowing humility, was born just as any other child: in blood and pain and screams. His birth was only a shadow of what was to come--his death.
In blood he was born and in blood he died. For us. It was all for us. God, the King of the Universe, the Mighty Lord, suffered the humiliation, pain, and brokenness of humanity so that he could save us. This is Christmas. This is the Gospel. Let us rejoice!
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