Just over two millennia ago, a member of the trinity took on the robe of flesh, set aside his right to be God, and became fully mortal. He entered the flow of events and our world in the way every being has entered it since Adam and Eve. An obscure teenage virgin gave birth to God in the most humble of circumstances. She gave birth to God amongst the livestock, because there was absolutely no room anywhere in the entire city for them. The spirit that was there at the moment of creation that participated in the founding of the world was relegated to being born amongst the animals. The God that participated in Genesis 1:1 was relegated to a place of poverty at his birth.
The first smells that entered God’s nostrils of flesh were most likely the stench of manure. The prince of peace was subjected to a stink that we modern humans avoid at all costs. He was wrapped in rags of cloth and laid in the place from which the livestock fed. The co-owner of creation, at his birth, was left among the marginalized and the dispossessed. It is important in viewing this scene not to view it with rose-colored glasses. It is important not to see this in soft fuzzy lighting with an eye toward some nostalgic perspective.
God entered the world into squalor. The scene at his birth was likely a chaotic one. It is unlikely that Mary and Joseph were alone in the cave that functioned as a stable. This place was likely filled with other poor travelers that couldn’t find lodging anywhere in Bethlehem. It is unlikely that this place had been cleared of animals. And so it was that God came into the world among a crowded cave filled with the flotsam and jetsam that made up the bottom rungs of Jewish society at that time. The stench of sweaty, unwashed people most likely mixed with the foul odor of the livestock and their decaying offal to create an overwhelming odor that I honestly cannot begin to imagine.
This moment at God’s birth was the fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah regarding, “A great light” and “Unto us a son is given”. Our modern minds tend to focus on the great chorus of angels that heralded the birth of the Messiah and the Magi that came from the east. We tend to try and avoid focusing on the stable in which the Christ was born. And yet it is in this humble cave that an amazing event occurred. A teenage virgin, engaged to a carpenter, gave birth to the prince of peace there. And the miracle of this season took place. The miracle that affirmed God’s will for his creation was brought to fruition there.
It is puzzling that the creator of the universe chose such a lowly place to enter the world he created. The God that parted the Red Sea, gave Daniel comfort in the lion’s den, provided the support for Meshack, Shadrack, and Abednigo; entered the world in a place, and a time that none would have expected. God confounded the expectations of his people as he began fulfilling his promise of a messiah. The birth of the Messiah was primarily witnessed by livestock, the unlucky, the dispossessed, and a small band of shepherds. Not exactly a proper court for the King of Kings, but it is what God selected.
The moment of the birth of the Messiah was an amazing moment in time. It was a majestic event that happened in the midst of manure. I cannot help but be awed by it. I cannot help but be left speechless when I consider it. The march to the cross began in a stable filled with the fragrant aroma of decaying fecal matter. The nostrils of the Messiah were filled with the stench of this life from His very first breath. The stench of our sin, and degradation was in his nose from the very beginning. And God didn’t run from it, or select a different place to avoid it. God chose to step into this life in the most humble of circumstances and be exposed from the very beginning to the stench of our existence. He chose to seek out his creation at its most raw and basal level. He didn’t shrink from the appointment with us. He welcomed it, he invited it, and he took it squarely head on, beginning with the moment of his birth.
In a lowly cave in Bethlehem, God came near to us two millennia ago. He has chosen to abide with his creation. He has chosen through substitutional sacrifice to impute value into his own, to impute his value into his own. He chose to draw near to those capable of hearing his voice. And he has never left us since.
Writer Clark D. Goble started this blog as a means to chronicle his imperfect walk with a Perfect Savior and invites you to join in on the conversation. He also invites you to check out the links to his work. Most often, Clark writes about Jesus and theology. He also enjoys writing fiction in a variety of genres.
Todd French is an information technology professional and a resident of Columbus, Ohio; where he shares a humble abode with his darling wife and beautiful daughters. His interests run the gambit from reading voraciously all forms of fiction to rooting for the Cleveland Browns.