This Sunday, December 19, 2021, The Little Angels (NCBC Kids, ages 2-3) will be singing in our Main Services. Well, let’s be honest: Some of them will sing and some of them will freeze up and stare at the crowd and some of them will pick their noses. Still, it’s going to be adorable.
I was humming one of their songs this morning: “Away in a Manger.” And suddenly, a line jumped out at me.
“Away in a manger, no crib for a bed…”
Which reminded me of something else many years later in our Savior’s life: “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head” (Luke 9:58).
That precious head, containing the wisdom that created both fox and bird, was still scrounging for a place to rest. That sacred head, with a face set like flint toward Jerusalem where it would receive blows, spit, and a crown of thorns. Son of God and Son of Man. Not just homeless. Bed-less.
It’s easy to feel sad, confused, or indignant at what seems like injustice toward Jesus. I want to cry, “No fair!” and pity Him. It’s easy to project my own ideals onto the story and miss the radical point.
Jesus didn’t come to value the things we do: Wealth or health or prestige or comfort. He didn’t pursue security or self-actualization. He abandoned all those worthless trinkets in favor of something better, something completely opposed to our world and to our personal hierarchy of needs.
The Baby with no crib for a bed and the Son of Man without a place to lay His head, this Jesus, he came to go low. As low as possible. As low as an impoverished child. As low as a slave. As low as a homeless person. As low as a condemned criminal.
His lowliness wasn’t tragic. It wasn’t accidental. It wasn’t forced upon him.
He chose to go low. On purpose. He chose to reject the path of billions of self-serving sinners and instead He lived according to God’s will alone. A path full of poverty, discomfort, infamy, rejection, betrayal, danger, violence and murder. He came to receive honor and glory in the most countercultural way. No crib for his head was just the beginning.
I don’t know how your Christmas season is going. Maybe perfectly merry and bright. Or maybe tinged with the bleakness of poverty, discomfort, fear, betrayal, or grief. One thing is certain: you are either coming out of a dark season, in the midst of one, or heading toward one soon. It’s not personal. It’s just the way it is on this broken planet. All of creation is groaning with a need for the light of Christ who showed us how to go low, how to suffer, with endurance and hope.
As you hear the old, familiar Christmas carols, may you be filled anew with adoration for our gentle and lowly King. He is so good.
