Shouldn’t It Be More… Holy?

Shouldn’t it have been more . . . holy? The stable, I mean. After all, this was no ordinary child who would be born there. Not that any child is ordinary, of course. But this was the birthplace of the Son of God, after all.

Yet, Luke tells us that when “the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger” (Luke 2:6–7, NIV).

In a manger. In a stable. Decorated with animals–not the cute, ‘painted on the wall of the nursery’ kind of animals, but the real-live, smelling like real-live animals kind.

So, I’m just wondering if maybe it could have been a little bit more holy and a little less, well, stable-y?

What would have made it more holy? What would have made it more appropriate for the birth of the Savior of all mankind? Perhaps a bit more gold. A bit more sparkle and bling. A bit more everything.

Less than Holy Moments

To be honest, though, I sometimes feel the same way about my own life. As a child of God, I think, shouldn’t my life be a bit more holy? A bit less down in the dirt of the stable, so to speak.

Because there are definitely moments that feel less than holy. Like sitting in traffic, taking out the trash, wiping noses, or tackling endless emails. I’m not talking about bad or evil things. Rather, I’m talking about the less-than-ideal things, the less-than-perfect moments, and all those tasks and chores that are just a bit too steeped in the reality of being human in this world.

Could That Be the Point?

Then again, maybe that was the whole point of the stable. Because we are humans living in this imperfect, stable-y world. It’s not holy; it’s fallen. And it’s filled with people, like me, who sometimes have a bit too much of our imperfect humanity clinging to us.

Could it be, that from the very moment of His birth, Jesus was teaching us so very important?

The truth is, the stable with all its imperfections was the perfect place for the Son of God to be born. Because it’s not about elevating the trappings of this world to some sparkling, golden image of holiness. Rather, it’s about the Savior stepping into our so-far-from-holy mess and covering it with His own holiness. No gold, or sparkle, or bling could make that stable holy; it became holy when the Son of God was born into it.

No Need to Stress

At this holiday time of year, it can sometimes feel as if we have to make everything perfect— practically holy—as some sort of proof of our love and awe for Him. But perfection just isn’t possible. Not for us. And that’s okay.

We don’t have to stress over elevating the times and places of our lives—or our holidays—to some impossible-to-obtain level of holiness and perfection. The tree doesn’t have to be perfectly symmetrical. The meal doesn’t have to be perfectly prepared. Nor do the lights don’t have to twinkle in perfect synchronization to “Silent Night.”

All we really have to do is invite Christ into the moments. The sitting in holiday traffic moments. The jostling through the crowds moments. The gathered ’round the table moments. We invite Him into all those moments by offering what He offered: love, kindness, and gentleness; mercy, love, and grace. And we invited Him by lifting up this simple, whispered prayer—Jesus—to remind us that He is, in fact, here with us.

Because the holidays become the kind of moments and memories we want them to be when we invite Jesus into the all dusty, dirty, stable-y moments of our lives.