Lindy Davidson

As I listened to the song Labour of Love during the Behold the Lamb of God concert a few weeks ago, I was struck by the harsh reality of the birth of Jesus. I’m sure this is not an original thought, but it really came home to me this Christmas that no one had to give up a place for Jesus.  I’m always wanting someone to give up a place for me.  Give up a place in line because I’m in a hurry.  Give up a place at the table because I’m very hungry.  Give up a parking place for me because I have a handicapped kid.  I want a place.  I need a place.  I deserve a place.  Yet Jesus, he didn’t require anyone to move so that he could have a place.  Surely, someone would have moved if they had understood that Mary was having a baby in a stable.  Surely someone would have at least let them use a room if they had understood that God was at work, even without knowing it was the Savior.  But something I realized this year as I pondered anew the quiet birth, no one asked for a special place.  There’s no record of Joseph trying to sweet talk the innkeeper or oust anyone.  There’s no evidence of a revolt from Mary when they had to use a stable as a birthing suite.  And certainly, God Himself authors the entire story and does not make a place for His Son that is in any earthly way special.  When I think of it from Mary’s perspective, I start to get upset about the lack of accommodations. When I had a baby, I was all about the accommodations.  Now I realize the first century birthing experience was hardly comparable to the luxuries of today.  So when I consider that what I went through to have a baby with all the modern conveniences of medicine took me to my knees, I can hardly comprehend what happened in that stable.  So what do we do?  We mute the colors, porcelainize the characters, give them serene faces and make it other-worldly.  I’ve always been ok with that.  But this year I couldn’t do it.  I was forced to ponder the reality of a smelly stable, cold night air, the lack of a mid-wife and the blood and the pain of childbirth.  AND in that extreme situation, there were no concessions made.  No one worked the system for a slightly better position.  No one played the “Deity” card and got the penthouse suite.  The whole thing just smacks of humility.  I guess it is so striking because I smack of pride.  So now it’s New Year’s Eve and most of us have moved on from that stable to the amazing things we’re going to accomplish in 2009.  Christmas is over and now it’s about self-renewal.  But in that stable, it was never about self.  It was always about others.  He came to make a place for others.