The Paradox of the Manger
Yesterday, we reflected on the fact that Christ was laid in a manger because there was no room in the inn. Today, let’s focus on the manger itself.
A manger, as we know, is a feeding trough for livestock. It's rough, crude, and smells like hay and manure. It is the absolute antithesis of a throne or a royal crib. Yet, this rough-hewn box became the first sanctuary of the King of Kings.
This is the ultimate paradox of Christmas. It challenges everything the world teaches us about power, glory, and significance.
Paul writes beautifully about this principle in 2 Corinthians 8:9 (KJV): "For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich."
No Room in the Inn
Today, we arrive in Bethlehem with Mary and Joseph. We know how tired they must have been after that long, inconvenient journey. They needed rest, comfort, and, most importantly, a clean, safe place for the Messiah to be born.
But as the story goes, they found nothing.
Luke 2:7 (KJV) tells us the simple, shocking truth: "And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn."
I find that phrase, "no room for them in the inn," powerful because it wasn’t just a logistical problem; it was a profound spiritual statement.
The Journey of Obedience
Today, we come to a pivotal moment in the Christmas story: the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. This wasn't a choice made by Mary and Joseph; it was a mandate issued by Caesar Augustus for a census, requiring everyone to return to their ancestral home.
Luke 2:4 (KJV) states: "And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:)."
This was not a comfortable or convenient trip. It was a long, difficult, and likely dangerous journey of about 80-90 miles, especially for Mary, who was heavily pregnant. Yet, they went. They went simply because the law required it. They went out of obedience.
Zechariah’s Song of Salvation
We've been focusing on Mary, but let’s circle back to Elizabeth’s husband, Zechariah. Remember him? He was the priest who, earlier in the story, doubted the angel Gabriel’s promise that his aged wife, Elizabeth, would conceive a son (John the Baptist). Because of his doubt, he was struck speechless until the child was born.
For nine months, Zechariah was forced into a profound, disciplinary silence. Imagine having the greatest news in the world to share yet not being able to utter a single word! But on the day his son was born and named "John," his tongue was finally loosed.
And what was the first thing he did? He sang!
Magnifying the Lord
Yesterday, we left off with Elizabeth blessing Mary. After that powerful moment of confirmation, Mary breaks into one of the most famous hymns of praise in Scripture, often called the Magnificat (from the Latin word for "magnify").
This prayer of Mary’s, found in Luke 1:46-55 (KJV), is not just a polite thank-you note to God; it’s a radical, prophetic song of worship that reveals a deep, Old Testament-rooted faith. She starts with this simple, powerful declaration: "And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord."
What does it mean to "magnify" the Lord?