To be recognized for our good achievements, to be kindly tolerated in our failures, these are our inevitable pleas before our fellowman. Nor are we always gracious about either. We’re a naturally demanding race.

Whatever the circumstance or predicament of life which apparently demands of us that we respond to this high and hideous calling of contradiction and self-condemnation, it was nothing that forbade the Lord from sharing that same lot with us. Whatever the crime in living, it was not shunned or disdained by Jesus–who indeed, “for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame.” (Hebrews 12:2.) Sounds like pushing the envelop, a bit!

What was that joy? The joy of “brining many sons unto glory.” (Hebrews 2:10.) It was for the eternal salvation of men that the Lord deigned to suffer with us here and now. And that suffering could only be convincing if he went through what we go through: birth, chiefly, then childhood, manhood, and a wicked death.

To be born one of us, that is the mystery of all mysteries. That is Christmas. And the reason for Christmas is simply for the efficacy, the qualification of that sacrifice on the cross. Christmas was a step, a glorious step, but only the first step on the villa dolorosa.

Yet we are so far from this thing, even this beginning. The Spirit of Christmas is so profound, so refined, so other than we are. From the moment of our birth birth we are fast into survival. We compete, and we become vicious in our technique of living. Fear of death seems the impetus of all we do or feel. We don’t generally get along well with one another. It’s too costly. Even our finest strivings in art or philanthropy are expressions of this fear. To achieve distinction, to create some perfect work or even act, or just to have a good name, a good reputation, for this we brutalize ourselves. A heavy burden we bear, indeed.

But “let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, though it not robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, and took on Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.” (Philippians 2:5-8.)

Definitely not our style. An alien approach to life. These things He did, though, because He loves us, and wants each of us to share in eternity. Well, we don’t have eternity to offer our fellowmen, but we act like he has it to offer us, and if we just perform well enough, and be demanding enough, and pay enough, our fellowman will honor us with something worthy. Alas, the people’s approval doesn’t bring eternity, or even that much satisfaction in this life–despite its soul-sacrificing cost. Our nature is generally deceived on this point.

But that little baby over there in the cow trough…He came from incomprehensible majesty, the honor of angels. His very presense, in the womb of that young girl, in the ‘bloody murder’ of birth, shows immediately that He even forfeited His own knowledge of His majesty. He voluntarily denied Himself. He didn’t know who He was. He had to learn, same as anyone else. He had to be taught His idenity, from another. (He must have had one very fine, very unusual mother, more wondrous than Hannah, the mother of Samuel. I posited this thesis in a work called The Virgin Birth, which I wrote at Yale, and which I hope to have available for sale in the not too distant future.) Jesus had to believe. That is how far the Lord humbled Himself.

Jesus didn’t have much of a family to brag about, or any earthly background to distinguish Him. Indeed, as the Son of God (–whose identity was known for certainty by Mary alone), anonymity was the perfect safe house. Obscurity was a necessity. Again, how foreign this is to our style! The only time we seek the shadows is after we’ve attained such stardom that we need a break from the pressure. Of course, after His life of hard blue-collar work, Jesus suddenly experienced more fame and pressure than ten Elvis Presleys at once. Then it all turned against Him–when He didn’t do what the people wanted Him to. But He was completely independent of man. You can’t save man if you seek only to please him, and let him tell you want he wants. When you are God, you know what man needs. That you give, and hope he figures it out.

That little baby over there in the hey feeder…He put Himself in a place most of us wouldn’t take, even if we were paid eternity. We just can’t do what He did. We can only admire Him for doing it. And faintly admire, for we scarcely appreciate it.

All in all, though, the way we do Christmas is still pretty charming. The story is irresistable, and gift giving is a delight. Christmas, like Hanukkah, is all about family and gifts, friends and treasures. It can be a glorious thing, ineed. For egotists, however, that little thing over there in the stall is one soul-searching seduction. Even the cattle look at the stars tonight. Something really special happened. It was pretty much unbelievable at the time, and still is today. We think we believe it. We sure know the story, but, I rather suspect we are like the donkeys. We have only an intuition of our Creator.