Mary and Joseph made their way from the back of the darkened church to the manger. A star shone out. A choir sang. Shepherds came to worship and kneel before the newborn king. It was a beautiful service.
Maybe it’s because I just read The Best Christmas Pageant Ever to my youngest. Maybe it’s because there’s a new baby in my brother’s arms. But this year I wondered why Mary and Joseph were on opposite sides of the manger and looking at their baby in a box. Wouldn’t Joseph have stood close beside Mary and Jesus? Wouldn’t Mary have cuddled her sweet new baby as mothers do? Wouldn’t she have cooed and rocked and held Him? Wouldn’t the shepherds have asked to hold Him, too?
Babies invite closeness. Every baby has been held by the friends and family who come to adore them. They promise to wash their hands and not to cough and they take the tiny bundle in their arms and marvel over how precious life is. It’s a sweetly sacred opportunity to touch a miracle.
Jesus wasn’t just for Mary and Joseph. Everyone was meant to hold Him. Lowly, unwashed shepherds. Long-seeking wise men. Insiders and outsiders. Highborn and low. All were invited to draw close to Jesus.
This invitation is for you and me, still. God doesn’t want us to stop at the manger. He doesn’t want us to sit around looking at the baby in the box. We are meant to hold Christ, to cling to Him with all our hearts and minds and strength, with everything that we have. This is the gift of salvation, and we can welcome it with open arms. It’s as easy as holding a baby.