by Tim Harris
“Mary gave birth to her firstborn son. She swaddled him, and laid him in the manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” (Luke 2:7)
I keep a tiny treasure box in my sock drawer. The contents are among those things in all the world most precious to me: my son’s baby teeth, a lock of hair, the dried stump of his birth cord. He is 23 now (a grown man), but still I keep these secret relics of his infancy. I want always to remember the day he was born – my wife’s grit and sweat, my son’s first shocking breath, the way he kicked and howled his way into my arms. He was loved from the start, and still he is loved. Always, he will be loved.
In a similar way, Christian believers treasure the particular birth of a son. His mother gave birth as all mothers do, with a labored rush of pain and joy. Luke tells the story in his Gospel, and he includes a small detail: she swaddled him. It’s a passing sort of reference – she wrapped her baby in strips of cloth, binding him head to toe. Swaddling was simply part of ancient birthing customs. According to sources, when a baby was born, several things happened. First, the cord was cut, and then the midwife rubbed the baby with salt. (It was believed that salting was beneficial for newborn skin.) Finally, the baby was swaddled tightly and placed in the mother’s arms.
According to the story, Mary didn’t have the benefit of a midwife. After a long journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem, after finding no suitable lodging (except for an animal’s stall), and after the exhaustion of labor and delivery, Mary h
erself cares for her baby boy. She washes him best she can, and she swaddles him. Perhaps for some it’s a minor detail in the story, but for me, it’s a beautiful sign of love. This boy was wanted and welcomed, held close and warm. Loved from the start.
What’s also interesting to me is that this verse is one of only a handful in the Bible that mentions swaddling. The first biblical reference to caring for a newborn in this way is found in the book of Ezekiel (16:4-6); the passage is striking for how it uses birth language to speak of God’s merciful love for you and me. Obviously, the language isn’t referring to the day you were born physically; it’s referring to a spiritual truth about your life, saying that God found you “on the day you were born.” The verses continue: “No one cared about you. Your umbilical cord was not cut, and you were never washed, rubbed with salt, and swaddled. …On the day you were born, you were unwanted…but I came by and saw you there…. As you lay there, I said, ‘Live!’”
The passage is describing a moment in our lives, something of the way things can turn out for us. You and I may get to a place in life where we feel unwanted, like nobody cares, dumped and left – Have you been there? Maybe it was during the weeks after your divorce or after you were driven from your country. Maybe some other event triggered your spiritual crisis – bankruptcy, miscarriage, sickness or surgery. For some people, the sense of unease comes on slowly, like gathering storm clouds. For others, a flash of fear or desperation strikes out of the blue. Perhaps suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel alone, helplessly needy. And it seems like nobody is there to hear you cry.
The point of this passage is that, despite how circumstances seem or how you may feel, you are never unwanted. You are never abandoned. You have never been unloved. At times you may feel as helpless and vulnerable as a motherless child; but kicking and howling, you will fall into the waiting arms of One who has loved you from the first. That’s the promise for all the ones who believe. God is like a faithful father, who calls you into life and celebrates your very existence. Like a midwife, God welcomes your new birth and washes you clean. Like a mother, God swaddles you, comforting you with the hush of some familiar, new song.
I know these things, because I’m a true believer, because it’s been my experience, and because I myself have been there. I’ve been the needy one, feeling anxious and alone, then adopted by God. I’ve been in that low spiritual place. But I’ve also been in the place where a newborn drew first breath and kicked and howled his way into my arms. At first he could not have known I was his father, but I knew he was my son.
So this December, as you hear the story of Mary’s baby, born and swaddled, consider your own spiritual story. Maybe there’s a chance for you to be found, called back into life, for everything to take a dramatic and beautiful turn. There may be labor at first, grit and sweat. Your first breath of new air may shock and burn. You may kick and howl a bit. Being newborn is no easy thing. But you can know something for sure. You are loved from the start, and still you are loved. Always, you will be loved.
About the Author:
Tim Harris is the senior pastor of Woodburn Baptist Church, located at 600 Woodburn Allen Springs Road. For more information call 270-529-5221 or visit www.woodburnbaptist.org.
