Take a deep breath and close your eyes for a just a moment. Travel with me back in time to a place of dusty roads and leaky roofs, a small town where everyone knows everyone’s business. The homes are fashioned from mortar and stone, the windows let the night sounds and biting bugs inside, the fire in the stove serves for cooking and warming. This is a time centuries before smooth roadways and fast cars, before the privacy of indoor bathrooms; a culture where women’s husbands were chosen for them.
It is in this town called Nazareth that we find a young girl, not quite a woman. Mary lives with her family and tends dutifully to her chores. She bakes over the open fire, carries water from the well in the center of town. And she kneels regularly on the dirt floor to pray to her God. Many times a day she and her family stop their work and return their hearts to a reverent silence. Mary takes a deep breath and utters a prayer she knows by heart. Her words aren’t cold and rote, however. Mary’s heart has been formed by her true faith in this God of her ancestors. Whereas many of her friends seem most interested in their dreams of future husbands and households, Mary lives a life that is devoted wholly to God. She knows the story of Abraham and the faith he had to bring his son, Isaac, to the altar. She knows about Noah and his faith to build the ark when everyone laughed in his face. She has learned of Hannah’s faith as she offered Samuel – her only son for whom she had wept and longed for – back to God in the temple. And beyond all of that, Mary knows this God. She knows of God’s faithfulness to his covenant. And she serves him out of devotion and love. Her prayers are heartfelt.
God sees this young woman and smiles. He has watched her grow up, steady and pure, a heart that longs for obedience and holiness. Throughout the centuries of pursuing a relationship with his people, God has waited. He has waited as his people have chosen selfish pursuits over faithfulness to the covenant He made with them. Occasionally He’s seen glimmers of true faith in a man or a woman, but the time wasn’t right. He was willing to wait.
When God sees the goodness of Joseph, a man born in the lineage of King David, he sees a man with of kindness and humility and righteousness. When this good man becomes the fiancé to the young and faithful Mary, God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit come to a beautiful consensus,
This is it, the time is now, to be with our beloved humanity in a tangible way, to open wide the invitation to be with us.
As Mary sits quietly kneeling during her morning prayers, she hears a voice, a gentle thunder in the room with her.
Good morning!
Luke 1:25-27, MSG
You’re beautiful with God’s beauty,
You are Beautiful inside and out!
God be with you.
She was thoroughly shaken with fear and confusion, wondering what was behind a greeting like that. But the angel assured her,
Mary, you have nothing to fear. God has a [tremendous request to ask of you, a great] surprise for you: You will become pregnant and give birth to a son and call his name Jesus. He will be great, be called ‘Son of the Highest.’
The Lord God will give him
the throne of his father David;
He will rule Jacob’s house forever—
no end, ever, to his kingdom.Mary said to the angel, “But how? I’ve never slept with a man.”
The angel answered,
“The Holy Spirit will come upon you,
the power of the Highest hover over you;
Therefore, the child you bring to birth
will be called Holy, Son of God.Nothing, you see, is impossible with God.” *
Could she even believe what her eyes had seen, her ears had heard? Her mind was racing with doubt and questions. What if I just imagined that? Why would God choose ME? But despite her youth, despite her uncertainty, Mary gathered up that favored faith of hers, and replied with quiet confidence:
Let it be to me according to your word.
Could we respond with such courageous obedience?
Those first few months were especially difficult as her belly remained hidden, but the waves of nausea threatened Mary’s daily tasks. She felt more exhaustion than she knew possible, often falling asleep during prayers. Soon she began to feel these flutters deep inside her belly, confirming the truth of the angel’s message to her. Her heart quickened whenever she pondered this reality: in her womb the Spirit of God had conceived a child. She was the Mother of God.
Though she had found favor with God and had faith in his good plan, Mary fought back frightened tears from time to time, wondering what childbirth would be like. She had overhead midwives helping her mother and neighbors during their deliveries. It seemed so unknown, not to mention incredibly painful. And on top of those wonderings, the question loomed in Mary’s mind: was she capable of mothering the son of the Almighty?
Her belly stretched, her ankles swelled, her body walking through the beautiful motions of pregnancy without asking her for permission. In the weeks ahead, Mary and Joseph endured harsh criticism: Mary was shamed for this act of apparent infidelity, Joseph questioned for his loyalty to his pregnant fiancé.
It almost brought Mary to tears when she realized they would need to be traveling to Bethlehem for this census during the final weeks of her pregnancy. She felt awkward and uncomfortable these days. To carry a child is to be a vessel for new life; to allow your skin to be stretched, your organs compressed. To carry a child is to commit to treating your body with newfound gentleness and respect, treasuring the life that is transforming yours. Pregnancy is exhausting and wonderful, terrifying and tremendous all at once. And Mary really wasn’t looking forward to a long ride on the back of a clomping donkey.
As they traveled in silence, Mary treasured the reality of Immanuel – God with her – rolling and stretching and kicking her ribcage. She felt out of breath, her lungs running out of room inside her chest, and yet the Breath of God was inside of her. Tears welled in her eyes. “Thank you, God”…she whispered to herself.
The contractions started slowly, almost imperceptibly. Mary didn’t want to worry Joseph, so she kept her instinct to herself. But she knew, the time had come for the baby to be born.
Along with the crowds of families returning to their small hometown for the government census, Mary and Joseph struggled to find a place to rest their weary bodies. They waited in line after long line, Joseph’s anxiety mounting every time another innkeeper shook their head “no.” Mary was beginning to moan now, needing to pause and breathe through the contractions. There wasn’t much time, and there seemed to be no room on this busy earth for the baby who was said to be God’s son.
Finally they found a generous manager who was willing to let the laboring mother and anxious father stay in his shed. Mary was both relieved to have a measure of privacy as her body prepared to transition. She needed to feel safe, she needed to turn inward and no longer worry about the world around her. She winced through another contraction and glanced up at the dilapidated stable. “God be with me,” she breathed, knowing he was more present than her mind could understand.
For the next few hours, Joseph paced in and out of the stable, unable to do much more than wait and pray. He refilled a pitcher of water and helped Mary take a sip between the pain. He let her lean her weight into him as she groaned through the intensity, wondering how long this dark night would wear on. He prayed for courage for them both.
Mary breathed long and hard, her body responding to the intensity of the contractions. The animals groaned with her, as if offering their comfort. Working toward the pinnacle of birth, this young mother felt her giving up, unable to go on. But just then the Spirit of God within her flooded her with peace and a power she’d never known.
“Save me, Lord,” she shouted. And all of creation seemed to echo her cries for help. With one final push, their baby was born. With renewed strength and immense relief, Mary pulled the tiny body from between her knees and laid him on her chest, laughing and weeping with joy as Joseph leaned over them both.
For the next several hours, the three of them lay skin to skin, breathing in the miracle of life and pondering the mysteries of Love itself had put on skin and moved into the neighborhood.
As we ponder this God-Incarnate, this very flesh and literal blood story of God-With-Us may we join the longing refrain of Mary and Joseph, of the Shepherds and Wise Men this Christmas:
O holy Child of Bethlehem,
descend to us, we pray,
cast out our sin, and enter in,
be born in us today!
We hear the Christmas angels
the great glad tidings tell.
O come to us, abide with us,
our Lord Emmanuel.
I invite you to pause and spend 6 minutes listening to this song (English Translation below) and soak your imagination in the mystery of Christ’s humble birth.
O magnum mysterium,
et admirabile sacramentum,
ut animalia viderent Dominum natum,
iacentem in praesepio!
Beata Virgo, cujus viscera
meruerunt portare
Dominum Iesum Christum.
Alleluia!
O great mystery,
and wonderful sacrament,
that animals should see the newborn Lord,
lying in a manger!
Blessed is the virgin whose womb
was worthy to bear
the Lord, Jesus Christ.
Alleluia!
