Christmas Eve 2021
I don’t know what it is about watching a baby being born, but every time I see it happen, I cry. Now, you may be wondering how often I witness babies being born because you know I don’t work in obstetrics. And you might be surprised to know that this is something I actually see on a regular basis… Because I’m a devoted fan of the television series on PBS, “Call the Midwife” where babies are born several times in each episode. I mean, that’s the whole point of the show. And I confess to you that whenever I watch “Call the Midwife”, it’s with a box of tissues by my side because every time a baby is born, my tears flow. No matter how many times I see it happen, I still cry.
For a long time, I tried to figure out why I love watching a TV show that makes me cry like this. And then, in one of the episodes, it became clear to me. Sister Monica Joan was a midwife in her younger years, but she had long since retired. In her old age, she had a crisis of faith, and she could no longer bring herself to believe God existed. This went on for quite a while. But then one day she found herself in the unexpected position of once again helping a woman with her childbirth. And witnessing the birth of the baby was all it took for her. It was all the evidence she needed to experience the presence of God.
The birthing process is gritty. It’s painful. If you didn’t know what was taking place, and you just watched it unfolding, you would see a cataclysmic event where it appears all is lost. It’s horrifying. And then, suddenly—a baby! There’s a strong connection between birthing and resurrection. In both, there is more than enough evidence to experience the presence of God.
I think we lose a lot of that at the birth of Jesus because of the way we’ve told the story. We like to think of Mary as a girl who radiated sweetness and light from the day the angel visited her and told her what was about to happen. We think she never questioned or complained. She was never afraid. But really, do you think that’s the way it happened?
We like to believe Joseph was easily convinced by an angel that everything would be okay if he took Mary as his wife, despite the fact that she was pregnant and he wasn’t the father. That he wasn’t troubled by how he would look to others, that he wasn’t wondering if he might not be playing the fool and thinking it would be easier to walk away. Surely, there was more to Joseph’s story than what we read in the Bible.
And the way Jesus was born. We tend to picture it in the most sanitized way possible. Mary didn’t have labor pains. When it was time for Jesus to be born, he gently tapped on her womb a few times, and she knew he would soon be here.
Mary was never afraid while she went through something she had never experienced before. She never cried out in pain. There was no pushing from a very unladylike position. No blood. No afterbirth. The baby just magically appeared. He came out sparkling clean, with a smile on his face and a halo on his head. But could that possibly have been the case?
We sing “the cattle are lowing, the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes” as if he never cried like a normal child. He never kept his parents awake nights so that they never knew the torture of sleep deprivation during the first few weeks of his life, the way other parents do. He took to his mother’s breast immediately, never caused her a moment of anxiety or discomfort and always gave her lots of time to rest between feedings.
And, of course, he never pooped like a normal baby. So, his parents never had to deal with cleaning up his mess, back in the day before there were disposable diapers. He certainly never had diarrhea or a diaper rash. And he never threw up. He never felt any pain when those first teeth were slicing their way through his tender, little gums.
The theological term for this is the incarnation. And that’s what we celebrate on this night.
That God didn’t
just come to visit us for a while and then return to where God came from. God
chose to become one of us. To become a creature as a part of God’s own
creation. And it began with Jesus’ birth. Just like the birth of any other baby:
crying from the sting of the air in his lungs as he took in his first breaths,
clinging to his mother for warmth in a cold world, dependent upon two human
beings for his very survival from one minute to the next.
Was he not a sweet baby? I’m sure he was, just as all babies are sweet. For he was born like we all were born. With all the pain, and fear, and messiness of any birth. And that’s the wonder and glory of this night.
The Rev. Dr. Nancy Kraft, Ascension Lutheran Church, Towson, Maryland
