Luke 2:1-7
Matthew 14:13-21
“Hope Grows”
We are doing something a bit unusual on this First Sunday of Advent. Instead of starting the season of waiting and anticipating the birth of Jesus with prophetic texts of longing and promise, we are starting with the birth narrative. We often don’t read those lovely words from Luke’s Gospel until Christmas Eve: “While they were there (in Bethlehem), the time came for Mary to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no place in the guestroom.”
We’re used to hearing about there being no place “in the inn” – imagining the couple desperately going from one hotel to the next, looking for a room to rent. In Christmas pageants, we often add the possibility that one innkeeper is kind-hearted and finds a warm place for the young couple to stay in his stable with the animals.
More likely, Joseph and Mary went to stay with relatives in his hometown, but it was a full house. There was no room in the kataluma – that’s the Greek word best translated as “guest room.” It reminds me of visiting my in-laws years ago when several of Nick’s brothers and families came at the same time. There weren’t enough rooms or beds in the house, so we ended up sleeping outside in a tent. Joseph and Mary ended up sleeping in the side room where the animals were kept – not exactly a stable or a barn, but a room attached to the house for the family’s small herd of animals.
But regardless of the type of room Mary and Joseph were in, the most interesting part of the story of Jesus’ birth was where they placed the baby after he was born. One person in our Advent group this week noted that babies in her family were often nestled in a drawer taken out of a dresser, and another person shocked me with the memory of babies being placed in the oven to keep them warm! I guess if you don’t have a fancy bassinet or crib, you make do with what you do have. So it seems that Mary made do with an animals’ feeding trough, laying him down to sleep in a manger.
The commentary on this text from Illustrated Ministry points out that the unexpectedness of the manger shapes our Christology – what we come to believe about who Jesus is. We notice the lowliness and the precariousness of our Saviour’s entrance into the world. God comes “down to” us to be “with” us in the lowest and poorest places where we live.
The commentary also suggests that the author of Luke’s Gospel may have gotten the “manger” idea from the prophet Isaiah. Lamenting the fact that God’s people at the time were not recognizing God or living according to God’s commandments of love, the prophet contrasts the people with animals that recognize their owners and are glad to receive the care and feeding that their owners provide.
Isaiah 1:3 says this: “The ox knows its owner and the donkey knows the manger of its Lord, but Israel has not known me; my people have not understood me.”
As Luke tells the story of the coming of the Messiah, he locates the Christ-child in the manger. It is “from the manger” that Jesus will be known to people – first to the shepherds, then to Luke and his community, and eventually to all God’s people throughout history, including us.
We are invited, not only to recognize that Jesus came from God to be with us in the world, and to meet us in the lowest places. But we are invited to receive the care and feeding that God is providing for us in and through Jesus Christ our Lord.
When I was preparing for the Children’s Time this morning, I briefly considered hiding some kind of food in the manger for the children to find – like a loaf of bread or some crackers or something. Because it is “from the manger” that our all our hungers will be satisfied – not only for food, but for life, meaning, purpose, hope, and all good things that God desires to give to us.
In the 2nd Gospel text that we heard this morning, we see how Jesus embodies his mission as an adult, continuing to feed the people. Despite the fact that he and his disciples had little food to share, he could not bypass the crowds who were hungry in a deserted place.
We’ve heard this story often, and a version of it is included in each of the four Gospel accounts. But I don’t think I’ve ever noticed before that each time the feeding miracle is included, it comes just after a rather horrific event.
“The story preceding this miracle involves Herod Antipas, who either beheads John the Baptist or is perplexed by reports of Jesus’ deeds in Judea. Matthew, in particular, depicts Herod Antipas as more villainous, desiring to kill John the Baptist.”
Now, I don’t want to dwell on the troubles of our world too much today. But it’s not hard to identify any number or horrific events that have taken place around us in recent days and months. There is plenty happening that might cause us worry, concern, or fear about the future, very much like the people of Jesus’ time.
But Jesus, who came into the world to feed and bless the people is not diverted from his mission by the things that make it difficult – whether corrupt and violent leaders or a seeming lack of resources. The one who was laid in a feed trough as a little child, now feeds the crowds.
“One of the beauties of this miracle is that it is not mere charity or sharing of abundance. Jesus persists in feeding the people despite seeming scarcity and skepticism. The disciples said to Jesus, ‘We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.’” And haven’t you heard similar sentiments from church communities today when we are feeling small, poor, or ill-equipped to feed our neighbours either with meals or with the spiritual food that will nurture their hearts?
“Jesus’ miracle is not only the multiplication of loaves and fish; it is actually the hope that Jesus wants his disciples and followers to see from him, the hope defying fear and despair. In doing so, this miracle becomes a paragon of Jesus’ love and care.”
This morning, we are invited to come to the Table of the Lord, to be fed and filled by Jesus’ love and self-giving for us. And in this season of Advent, we are invited to come to the manger… to recognize our Saviour who has come down to be with us in the midst of our troubling world, and to feed our bodies, minds, and spirits despite a seeming lack of resources.
Let us be assured in this season, that “from the manger” hope grows.