We know the story of Jesus' birth by memory. The stable, the angels, the shepherds, and the wisemen. I have grown up assuming that Jesus was born on a beautiful night. It was wonderfully clear, so you could see the stars. The wind was calm and the air was comfortably cool. The stable, warm and cozy, was a rather neat place for a baby to be born. The animals all around were lowing, or cooing, or making some sort of soothing sound. Baby Jesus slept peacefully in a manger filled with soft, sweet-smelling hay. Plus, he was wrapped securely in swaddling clothes. And we mustn't forget the shepherds. They were nice people - another part of the story.
How deeply have you searched the scriptures for details? The King James Version Bible doesn't give many details - at least not as many as I wrote above. So what would happen if we would peel away the gloss? What would the night of Emmanuel's coming be like when viewed through the opposite perspective?
Neither Matthew nor Luke mention the weather in their descriptions of Nativity. Hardly surprising, since they weren't there. Perhaps it wasn't a beautifully clear night. Perhaps it was a very black, stormy night with a howling wind. Maybe it was cold - abnormally cold - and pelting rain. The shepherds might have at first mistaken the angels' song for the wind shrieking through the trees. No wonder they were terrified.
If Bethlehem was bustling with travelers, what about the stable? No room in the inn likely meant little room in the stable. So the barn wouldn't only have been jam-packed with animals, but, to put it plainly, it would have stunk like crap. How many barns have you been in that don't reek of manure? Then add more animals than there should be...
The ferocious wind would have found every hole in the place, sending chilling drafts everywhere. The wild weather certainly wouldn't have calmed the animals. Instead of standing quietly, they would have been stomping and snorting and uttering all types of unearthly sounds. And the hay. You might like the smell of hay, but since when is it soft? It isn't. It is prickly and pokey, and that's from my perspective, not from the perspective a newborn with tender skin. The manger wouldn't have been sanded smooth and coated with child-safe paint. It made a lousy crib with the possibility of slivers, as well as gaps where a baby could fall through.
Enter the shepherds. Not just shepherds, but shepherds. They cared for sheep, but they weren't refined. They worked hard. They were rough and tough and stank of BO. Socially, they were about as far removed from royalty as could be imagined.
Into this setting, the Majestic One was born.
Perhaps it wasn't pretty. Perhaps to humans, it was degrading. Perhaps it was uncomfortable. Who said Jesus was any more comfortable when He came into this world than when He left it? Perhaps the first noise Jesus made was a cry from the cold, or damp, or noise, or pokey hay, or all of them combined. But He did it anyway. He has been there, done that. The Most Holy became the Most Lowly so He could redeem us from sin. And that shows how much God loves us. Only it is just the beginning; just the tip of the iceberg.
While writing, I have found an interesting correlation with the shepherds. People often wonder why God chose them. Perhaps the key was their humble, unpretentious hearts. Perhaps God used them to showcase His boundless love for everyone, especially those that humans judge as inferior. Whatever the reason, this is what I have found: The first people to hear about the Good Shepherd's birth were... shepherds.
If Bethlehem was bustling with travelers, what about the stable? No room in the inn likely meant little room in the stable. So the barn wouldn't only have been jam-packed with animals, but, to put it plainly, it would have stunk like crap. How many barns have you been in that don't reek of manure? Then add more animals than there should be...
The ferocious wind would have found every hole in the place, sending chilling drafts everywhere. The wild weather certainly wouldn't have calmed the animals. Instead of standing quietly, they would have been stomping and snorting and uttering all types of unearthly sounds. And the hay. You might like the smell of hay, but since when is it soft? It isn't. It is prickly and pokey, and that's from my perspective, not from the perspective a newborn with tender skin. The manger wouldn't have been sanded smooth and coated with child-safe paint. It made a lousy crib with the possibility of slivers, as well as gaps where a baby could fall through.
Enter the shepherds. Not just shepherds, but shepherds. They cared for sheep, but they weren't refined. They worked hard. They were rough and tough and stank of BO. Socially, they were about as far removed from royalty as could be imagined.
Into this setting, the Majestic One was born.
Perhaps it wasn't pretty. Perhaps to humans, it was degrading. Perhaps it was uncomfortable. Who said Jesus was any more comfortable when He came into this world than when He left it? Perhaps the first noise Jesus made was a cry from the cold, or damp, or noise, or pokey hay, or all of them combined. But He did it anyway. He has been there, done that. The Most Holy became the Most Lowly so He could redeem us from sin. And that shows how much God loves us. Only it is just the beginning; just the tip of the iceberg.
While writing, I have found an interesting correlation with the shepherds. People often wonder why God chose them. Perhaps the key was their humble, unpretentious hearts. Perhaps God used them to showcase His boundless love for everyone, especially those that humans judge as inferior. Whatever the reason, this is what I have found: The first people to hear about the Good Shepherd's birth were... shepherds.
