Scripture reading: Luke 2:1–7

Manger Danger

How shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation? (Hebrews 2:3)

Try to imagine what Mary must have been thinking as she placed her newborn baby in a feeding trough. Erase from your minds all those sanitary, fresh, bright portrayals that depict baby Jesus sleeping in a clean bassinet. Jesus’ first bed was not like that at all. I’m sure Mary did all she could to brighten up the barn to prepare for his arrival. I picture her giving instructions to Joseph about sweeping away cobwebs, swatting flies, chasing rats and clearing out all that manure. She must have urged him to plug holes in the wall and put a covering over the door to keep out the cold night air. And if they had had air fresheners in those days, I’m sure she would have told him to do something about the constant smell of dung, urine and sweat that hung over the barn like a cloud.

Whether the trough was made of stone or wood I don’t know, but I doubt that Joseph’s most energetic scrubbing was able to wipe away the stains of animal saliva and moldy fodder. Maybe Mary did give him a wink and a smile as he wiped away animal hairs and clumps of inedible silage before gathering the freshest and cleanest hay he could find to fill the now empty trough. But I know enough about mothers to know that Mary would have still been troubled! My baby in a feeding trough? The germs, the bacteria, the dirt, the bugs. I wonder if she prayed that first night, “Dear Father in heaven, protect my son, your Son, from the danger that lurks in this manger.”

Such a picture of the first Christmas makes us uncomfortable. We want to tidy things up, domesticate the animals, disinfect the feeding trough, clean out the bugs, and pretend the manure isn’t there. Every portrayal of the nativity I’ve ever seen made the animals seem like household pets; removed any unpleasant smells; got rid of the bugs. We want a stable that has been sanitized. We want the shepherds to wear clean robes. And we expect the cow with the curly horn to moo on cue. And it’s always safest to have a plastic Jesus lying in a disinfected crib. We don’t want danger in the manger.

But why? Why do we sanitize the story? Why indeed? Perhaps we want a Messiah that comes on our terms rather than his. Perhaps we want a Savior who fits our expectations and conforms to our norms of behavior. We want a sentimental Christmas that helps us forget the germs, the poverty, and the messiness of life.

But beware! There is more danger in a sanitized manger than in the unsanitized one! If he’s not real, for heavens sake, why should I be real? But that’s just the point. He is real: a real Savior who came into a real world to save real people with real sins trapped in real bondage. Jesus came into our filth so he could save us from it!

So this Christmas, put away the bug spray, the disinfectant and the air freshener. The germs and dirt are an essential part of the story! Only if Jesus is real can you be real. So let him into the sin and filth of your world so he can draw you out!

If I don’t let him in down here, he won’t let me in up there.—Bud Robinson

 

point to ponder • A plastic, sanitized Jesus has no power to save real people with real problems.

prayer focus • To not turn this Christmas season into a sentimental holiday.