Adapted from a sermon preached December 26, 2021 at Peace Mennonite Church by Joanna Harader

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This is a familiar story. One we hear every year—probably multiple times a year. We all know how it goes: Mary riding on a donkey to Bethlehem. Joseph knocking on one inn door after another, being turned away because there is no room. The cows and sheep gazing upon the newborn baby Jesus. . . .

Except that none of that is actually in the Bible.

We are told that Joseph and Mary travelled from Nazareth to Bethlehem. We assume—we hope—that the very pregnant Mary rode a donkey and didn’t have to walk the 70+ miles.

We are told that “there was no place for them in the inn,” so we imagine that Joseph had tried and failed to find better accommodations for his family.

We are told that Mary laid Jesus in a manger—which is a feeding trough for animals, and so we envision the animals there with the Holy family.

It’s interesting, don’t you think, how many details of the story we fill in for ourselves without even realizing it? It’s like we’re all writing Bible fan fiction. There’s not enough in the original content, so we elaborate, we add to the story. We want to know more about this pregnant young woman, this inconvenient journey, this unusual birth story.

Maybe it’s because this is a place we can really connect with the biblical narrative—with Mary’s feelings of being overwhelmed, uncertain, vulnerable; with the need to take a trip we’d rather not take; with the joy and wonder of a baby born.

Maybe it’s because of the intimacy, the comfort of this cozy scene: mother, father, and newborn child lit by a warm glow. I prefer the King James version to more modern translations for Luke 2:7. While newer versions say Jesus was wrapped in cloth, the KJV says Mary wrapped him in “swaddling clothes.” Doesn’t that just make you feel snug and safe?

Maybe we elaborate on this story because we want it to last longer. Luke’s gospel is the only one that gives us the story of the baby in a manger, and here Jesus is born and swaddled all in one verse. But we aren’t ready for the scene to be over. We want to linger at the manger a bit longer.

The manger is where we meet the all-powerful God with perfect tiny baby toes. The manger is where divine love and human love come together in the tender gaze between mother and infant. The manger is where Emmanuel—God-with-us—is human in the most uncomplicated way.

There is something about a newborn baby, how you could just stare at her forever. And so it is with the baby Jesus, you want to linger and watch and just be in the Presence.

This is God at God’s most vulnerable and intimate.

However long we may want to linger, the Biblical narrative shifts quickly from the manger to the nearby fields where the shepherds are keeping watch over their flock by night. The King James is good here, too: “And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.” Sore afraid.

This is not the cozy and comfortable God-as-baby. This is a terrifying angel interrupting an otherwise peaceful evening; this is the overwhelming, other-worldly, glory of the Lord manifesting around the shepherds and scaring them to death.

The angel says what most angels in the Bible say: “Don’t be afraid.” And then the angel tells them about that cozy scene at the manger—that the Messiah, the Christ, the Lord, is wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a feeding trough.

Which must have sounded strange to them. And maybe they were starting to feel a little bit of that cozy, warm, nativity scene glow when “suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host.” A multitude. That’s a lot of angels. Sure, they’re singing and praising God, but it still must have been terrifying.

The shepherds go in haste. Whether out of excitement or fear it’s hard to say. Probably a little of both. They find Mary and Joseph and the child, just as the angel had said. And they are amazed.

They have experienced the glory of God in a multitude of angels, and now they experience it in this newborn baby. They join the cozy scene around the manger.

In Jesus, God is part of our very human world, and yet the glory of God and its accompanying host of heaven is terrifying to witness. That’s the beauty and mystery of Christmas. God is at once so close and so far, so intimate and so transcendent.

The Bible tells us that “the shepherds returned glorifying and praising God.” But it doesn’t say how long they stayed before they returned. I like to think of them, like us, lingering in the scene for as long as possible. Appreciating the warmth. Listening to the soft breathing, the baby gurgles, the tentative fussiness. Smelling the earthiness, the human and animal bodies. Seeing the face of God in the baby before them.

I like to think they lingered before they ran off to share the good news.

And as we prepare to celebrate Christmas tomorrow, I invite you to linger at the manger as well. According to the commercial calendar, the Christmas season is over after tomorrow. But according to the church calendar, it’s just beginning. The twelve days of Christmas start with Christmas day.

With the Christmas baking done, the gifts wrapped and unwrapped, the general hustle of the season slowing down, I pray you can find some space to linger at the manger. To contemplate the baby who is the Savior. To appreciate both the power of God for us and the intimate presence of God with us.

A church in our town hosts a nativity scene display each year. There are hundreds of scenes from different places, different cultures. The skin tones of Mary and Joseph and the baby reflect the people who created the pieces. Some are simple, others elaborate. Once when we went, my daughter noticed that a couple of the Pueblo scenes included a raccoon. In one nativity scene, all of the characters were dogs. There was even a hipster version with the three wise men on Segway scooters carrying cardboard Amazon boxes while Mary and Joseph take a selfie.

Are Segway scooters and dressed up dogs in nativity scenes ridiculous? Sure.

Still, I think they are lovely. I think it’s OK that we add to this nativity story. That we insert the animals nearest and dearest to us. That we imagine people like us present around the manger.

If there are people like us in the nativity scene, then maybe we ourselves can be in the scene.

I invite you to spend some time around the manger in these remaining days of Christmas. Look upon the Christ child with awe and wonder. Rest in the presence of our mysteriously incarnate God; the God of the heavenly host and the newborn baby; the God of hope, peace, joy, and love.