My favorite part of Christmas is the humility that Jesus showed when he simply came to earth. The God of the universe humbly became a cry, whining, baby. How insane is that? I love that he wasn’t born in a castle, or a palace, or a mansion. Any of those things would have been insanely humbling for the God who created everything. Yet he wasn’t born into the lifestyles of the rich and famous, but rather a dirty manger. Jesus could have been heralded by trumpets, or celebrations, or national holidays, or any other elaborate party. But he was born in a backwater town, with only his unwed mother, and soon to be step-dad and a few mangy shepherds gathering around to watch. He could have messengers proclaiming his birth in every town across the Roman Empire, yet it was just a star that guided the magi.
Jesus was born in a way that no author would have ever written it, no one could have ever even imagined that God would come to earth, not as a grown man, but as a baby that couldn’t speak, or walk, or even change himself. How humbling is that?
Yet, despite all this Jesus was more than just a baby. You see, those shepherds that came, they came to worship him. The magi followed a star for many miles searching for him. Herod was threatened by him, the teachers in the temple were amazed by him, and people were healed by him.
The amazing part of the whole story is that God could have sent Jesus in any way he wanted. Yet He chose to have Jesus wander the earth for 33 years, just being present with us, just spending time with us. He walked the streets, ate the food, drank the wine. Jesus inserted himself into the messiness of life, just to be present with the people He loved. That’s what the Bible means by Immanuel, God with us.