There is a verse we know so well that we may have stopped truly seeing it. Mary brought forth her firstborn son, wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger. A manger. We must let that sink in. This was no cozy scene with golden light and fresh straw. It was a feed trough, likely cold stone chiseled from rock, the very place where animals pushed their noses into their daily grain. And there, in that crude and humble spot, lay the King of kings, the Lord of lords, the One who spoke the stars into being.
Is God humble? We will not find a verse that says so directly, but Scripture tells us He dwells with the contrite and lowly in spirit. He resists the proud and gives grace to the humble. When Jesus came to earth, He bypassed mighty Rome, the seat of world power. He passed over Jerusalem, the capital city. He arrived instead in tiny Bethlehem, a town so small it barely appeared on any map. And even there, He was not born in the home of an important family but in a barn, announced to shepherds, confirmed by a sign: you will find the baby lying in a manger.
What does this tell us about ourselves? Simply this: we are worth it. We are worth the journey Jesus took from the splendor of eternity to a pile of fodder in a stable. So often we struggle with feelings that we are not good enough, that others have it more together, that we must perform to earn God’s love. But the manger sweeps all that away. Jesus thought we were worth His time just as we are, with all our flaws and failings.
Paul prayed that we might understand the breadth and length and height and depth of Christ’s love, a love that surpasses knowledge. This is the love that brought God to a feeding trough. It should change not only how we see Him but how we see one another. If you are valuable in God’s eyes, so is your neighbor, your fellow stumbling brother or sister. We have no right to grab each other by the neck demanding what we think we deserve when we have been forgiven so much.
So when we see the manger this season, even tucked inside a pretty nativity, let us remember what it truly means. Let us remember the God who stepped down, lower than we could have imagined, to meet us where we are. And let us respond with grateful, worshiping hearts, adoring the One who left His throne and kingly crown to lie in a bed of straw for us.