Of Swaddling Cloths and Mangers
Have you ever struggled to believe the authenticity of Jesus' birth? Its claims are so shocking, it’s easy to dismiss or even sentimentalize. If true, however, the Nativity is a compelling event offering enduring hope for us as individuals, and for our broken world.
This age-old story asserts that two thousand years ago, in a rural village outside Jerusalem, the unthinkable happened: God stepped out of heaven and became human in the person of Jesus Christ.
Eternal Spirit became visible, approachable, holdable. The Maker of the Pacific Ocean took on flesh and floated in amniotic fluid! Unlimited Power became weak, needy, dependent upon the nourishment of a young mother.
During a December 1973 broadcast of 60 Minutes, reporter Harry Reasoner said it best:
…it goes beyond logic. It is either all falsehood or it is the truest thing in the world. It's the story of the great innocence of God the baby – God in the form of man – and it has such a dramatic shock toward the heart that if it is not true, for Christians nothing is true.
According to the book of Luke, the "angel of the Lord" appeared to a group of frightened shepherds announcing the blessed event. "Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior who is Christ the Lord" (Lk. 2:10-11).
And the distinct signs given to identify the newborn King strike a chord of curiosity: "You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger" (Lk. 2:12).
In ancient times, swaddling cloths were torn strips of fabric used to snugly wrap babies for security and warmth. A manger was a feeding trough for animals typically found in a dirty, smelly stable of some kind.
Torn rags and a feeding trough. Let those images sink in for just a moment.
If the story is true, and this child really was Immanuel, "God with us," why would He want to be clothed in such poor garments and placed in such a crude crib? Why would He choose such things as torn rags and an animal's feeding trough to mark His grand arrival?
Perhaps these signs were not only for the shepherds long ago. Maybe, just maybe, they are timeless tokens pointing us to the humble character of Christ and the transforming work He offers today.
Through the swaddling cloths and manger, I imagine Jesus saying something like: "I still wrap myself in torn rags, not as a baby in swaddling cloths, but as a crucified and resurrected Savior. When welcomed, I come to frayed places ripped apart by your sin and the sin of others towards you. When invited, I come to dirty and smelly stables, too. There, I take upon myself rags of shame, fear, anger, injustice, and hopelessness. In exchange, I offer myself as an ongoing feeding trough of mercy, grace, peace, and hope.
Wishful thinking? Consider the words of Jesus’ brother, James, who assures us that when we humbly "come near" to this Christ, he "will come near" to us (Jas. 4:8).
During this Christmas season, why not join me and cash in on the offer? Whether it's for the first time, or umpteenth, the offer of His presence is still the same.
Perhaps we’ll experience a gift exchange: rags for divine kindness. After all, an ancient prophecy foretold that the Messiah would give "a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair" (Is. 61:3).
And Paul, a former persecutor of Christians, wrote that through Christ, "all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe — people and things, animals and atoms — get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross" (Col. 1:20, The Message).
In the busyness of this season, may we draw near to Jesus, somehow finding the grace and courage to invite him into our dirty, smelly "stables." May we offer him our torn rags and tattered hearts—our sin, failures, disappointments, losses, and pain. May we also yield the sin and injustice others have committed against us.
As we do, I can't help but wonder if we'll experience something of the messianic goodness and comfort prophesied by Isaiah: "For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. The government [of our lives and one day, the nations] will rest on his shoulders. And he will be called: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace" (Is. 9:6).
Merry Christmas.
