“Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”
Under normal circumstances this time of the year would be spent doing things like picking out a Christmas tree, stringing it with lights and ornaments, and decorating the house for Christmas. This year we’ve done no such thing. Instead we’ve been running around town finding boxes, dropping items of at Goodwill, calling utility companies, movers, packing up boxes, and moving to our new house.
As I was driving through town reflecting on all this, I began to think how little this year felt like Christmas. I wished we could have been out finding the perfect tree. I wished we could have been decorating the house. I wish we could have been making cookies. Alas, that was not possible. I could not depend on the things that normally made the season feel like Christmas. If I couldn’t have those things, what did I have? The answer was surprisingly simple:
Jesus.
Advent is time of preparing. Of waiting. Of hoping. But not for presents. Not for holiday cookies. And not even for time with family and friends. No we wait, we prepare, and we hope for the coming of Christ the King. Without the tree, without the decorations, without the lights, what did I have?
Jesus.
If anything or upheaval marking our life has pushed me to a deeper place of preparation. The life and ministry of Jesus was one marked by homelessness: “Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” Jesus of Nazareth, God’s own son was a man on the move. His way was the way of obedience to his father in heaven. This purity of heart made Jesus a man on the move. There was no time or place for the trappings of normalcy.
This sense of homelessness marked Jesus’ birth as well. The popular images of Jesus’ birth suggest Mary in the ninth month of her pregnancy riding a donkey during the midnight hour to a closed-down Bethlehem accompanied only by her soon-to-be husband. With no place to sleep, they the lonely couple migrated to a barn where she gave birth to a son and placed him in a manger. Yet this popular account says too much. It’s entirely plausible that Mary and Joseph had been living in Bethlehem for some time before Jesus was born. And although now Joseph had presently resided to the north in Nazareth, it is entirely plausible that Bethlehem was home to some of Joseph’s kin who might have housed the couple.
What is certain is that Bethlehem was not home. Even at birth Jesus had no hole, he had no nest. Jesus was born on the move and continued to move. Eight days later he was in Jerusalem. Soon after that he was whisked away to Egypt, escaping the ruthless and paranoid Herod. It wasn’t until much later that Jesus arrived home in Nazareth. But even then that was only a temporary dwelling as Jesus’ public ministry was dominated by the homeless existence of a public prophet proclaiming the good news of the reign of God.
The birth of Jesus was one marked by great instability, danger, and risk. It is a sign of the loving freedom of the Son of God to descend to earth as a child in a position of vulnerability and dependence. Even at birth God freely gave of himself. He gave his future into the hands of a young mother and father. He gave himself to humanity in great political turmoil and distress. Even in birth and his early life Jesus was acted upon.
While Christmas can mean presents, cookies, and trees there is something deeper. While the holiday traditions hold a great and even meaningful place, we might take the risk of pulling back the husk to reveal the kernel of the advent season announced by the angel to Mary: “You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”
