Due to the birth of, objectively, the cutest baby in the world, Christmas kind of snuck up on us this year. That isn’t to say, I haven’t had time to consider the Advent mystery though; if anything, having Izzy has totally changed how I see Christmas. Below are four things I learned taking care of my newborn this Advent.
1. Newborns cannot do anything. They cannot feed themselves. They cannot find shelter. They are completely dependent versions of the human species. They cannot clean up their own poo. The Creator of the Universe, on the other hand, can do whatever He wants. He thinks, and the world springs into being; He sneezes, and stars explode. Of all the people God could have incarnated Himself as, He chose to become a newborn?
2. Before Isabelle was born, we spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about where she would sleep. By my count, we have four different beds/bouncy seats/cribs for her to sleep in. Let’s not even talk about all the thought that goes into how she sleeps: Are there too many blankets? How do I swaddle her? Is she too warm? Is she too cold? The Almighty, in His efforts to explore the human condition from the inside, chose to sleep in a box from which animals eat. I’m worried about taking my kid out to a shopping mall for fear of the germs; Jesus slept in a stable.
3. If I were the immortal Creator God and I wanted to become an infant, I would have not have chosen first-century Jerusalem in which to be born. Think about it: Jesus was born in territory occupied by a ruthless dictatorship. Some people think the Romans taxed Jews as high as 90% in the first century. He had no civil rights to speak of, but more than that, the sheer amount of baby equipment that Americans “need” was not available to Mary. She certainly was not given baby gear at a baby shower. (Heck, if it were me, I would have chosen 21st century Sweden for the incarnation: they get a year of parental leave and a box of baby supplies paid for by the state).
4. While we are on the subject of rights, let’s talk about the rights of children in the first century (or lack thereof). In 21st century America, everybody is your best friend when you walk around with a baby. When I go into a store with Izzy, people open the door for us. They make goo-goo noises. They ask how old she is and how Suzanne is feeling. Seeing a baby puts everybody in a great mood. Few people realize that the notion of children being special is a relatively new idea. During Jesus’ time, the head of the household could disown their children, sell them into slavery or kill them. If a head of the household didn’t want a child, that child was put outside--exposed--to be abandoned to the elements. Our Savior, due to the unusual circumstances of His birth, would have been considered illegitimate. If Joseph weren’t such a good guy, Jesus wouldn’t have made it to his first birthday.
If I were writing the Nativity story, I could not have written a story more likely to result in the death of the baby in question. Yet, not only did Jesus survive, but He grew up to save the world. It is a wonder that Jesus made it, and that wonder is what we celebrate this Christmas. Merry Christmas!
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