Christmas Lesson

Good Questions Have Small Groups Talking
www.joshhunt.com

Luke 1.26 – 49; 2.1 – 7

OUTREACH

Jesus said to let our light shine before men. (Matt 5.16) He warned us about not being ashamed of Him. One quick and easy way we can do this is to update our Facebook profile to say something like, “Great to be in God’s house today.” I’d invite you to do this now and make mention of coming to church one other time during the week. Do the math. How many would hear about this church if we all did this? What if every church-goer did this?

OPEN

Let’s each share your name and what is your most memorable Christmas

DIG

1.       Let’s read this passage as a whole. Look for something you have never seen before.

What made the where’s Waldo series of books so insanely popular? Why is the game hide and seek so perennially popular with children? What is it about looking for something that is just so much fun?

Well I’ll leave the philosophical answers to those questions to the philosophers. Let’s talk about how we can put this basic human dynamic to work. We all love to look for things.

Here’s the key: when you read the word give them something to look for. — Josh Hunt. (2013). The Effective Bible Teacher.

2.       Verse 26. What do we know about the place of this announcement — Nazareth?

The setting for the Annunciation drew amazement from first-century Jewish readers because Gabriel ignored Judea, the heartland of God’s work through the centuries, and came to Galilee, a land that was the subject of abiding Jewish contempt because of its mongrelized population. Even more, the angel not only bypassed Judea for Galilee, but the city of Jerusalem for the village of Nazareth. Nazareth was a “non-place.” It was not even mentioned in the Old Testament or in Josephus’ writings or in the rabbinical writings (either Talmudic or midrashic). It wasn’t until 1962 that a pre-Christian mention of Nazareth was found at Caesarea Maritima. The later prominence of the town is a result of the Christian gospel. Nazareth, a shoddy, corrupt halfway stop between the port cities of Tyre and Sidon, was overrun by Gentiles and Roman soldiers. When guileless, straight-talking Nathaniel mentioned Nazareth, he said, “ ‘Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?’ ” (John 1:46), implying that it was miserably corrupt. By consensus, Nazareth was not much.

Of course, in skipping Judea and Jerusalem, Gabriel also ignored the temple, the most holy place in Israel, and entered the lowly home of Mary, which certainly was not much. — Hughes, R. K. (1998). Luke: that you may know the truth (pp. 28–30). Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books.

3.       What do we know about Mary? What do we learn about God from the fact that he chose Mary?

In the world’s eyes Mary herself was not of much account either. She was too young to know much of the world or to have accomplished anything. According to the Apocryphal Gospel of the Birth of Mary, she was only fourteen; and the History of Joseph the Carpenter states that she was only twelve. No less a scholar than Raymond Brown, author of the massive and definitive The Birth of the Messiah, argues for the younger age. She was at most a young teenager. As with all poor peasant girls, she was illiterate, her knowledge of the Scriptures being limited to what she had memorized at home and heard in the synagogue.

From all indicators, her life would not be extraordinary. She would marry humbly, give birth to numerous poor children, never travel farther than a few miles from home, and one day die like thousands of others before her—a nobody in a nothing town in the middle of nowhere.

As we probe this beautiful text of the Annunciation we cannot miss an inescapable fact: the greatest news ever proclaimed in Israel came to the humblest of its people! Mary said exactly that in her Magnificat when she sang, “ ‘My soul praises the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant’ ” (Luke 1:46–48a).

Nine months later, on Christmas Day, it was to poor, humble shepherd outcasts that the angels chorused their annunciation: “ ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests’ ” (Luke 2:14). Whenever we consider those to whom the good news came, we must recite a list punctuated by the words “poor” and “humble.” Martin Luther remarked, “He might have gone to Jerusalem and picked out Caiaphas’s daughter, who was fair, rich, clad in gold embroidered raiment and attended by a retinue of maids in waiting. But God preferred a lowly maid from a mean town.” And if the Incarnation happened today, it would be the same. The Lord would not be born in Jerusalem or Rome or Geneva or Canterbury, but on the ordinary streets of some nameless town.

As we study the Annunciation, we must accept the essential spiritual fact of the Incarnation and the gospel: the Lord comes to needy people—those who realize that without him they cannot make it—those who acknowledge their weakness and spiritual lack. The Incarnation, salvation, resurrection, Christmas are not for the proud and self-sufficient. — Hughes, R. K. (1998). Luke: that you may know the truth (p. 30). Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books.

4.       The angel told Mary not to be afraid. What did she have to be afraid of? What do we have to be afraid of?

The Gospels address fear head-on. The consensus? Don’t be afraid.

Afraid of death and satanic forces at work? “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul” (Matt. 10:28).

Afraid of God’s calling you into a whole new life? “But the angel said to her, ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God’” (Luke 1:30).

Afraid of the world? “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid” (John 14:27).

Afraid of job loss, foreclosure, and bankruptcy? “Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32).

Afraid of what people are saying behind your back? “So do not be afraid of them. There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known” (Matt. 10:26).

Afraid that Jesus has left you? “He [God] Himself has said, I will not in any way fail you nor give you up nor leave you without support. [I will] not, [I will] not, [I will] not in any degree leave you helpless nor forsake nor let [you] down (relax My hold on you)! [Assuredly not!]” (Heb. 13:5 AMPLIFIED BIBLE).

Fear’s main goal is to keep you from God’s plan for your life, so don’t allow it to win.

If anything should be afraid, it should be fear itself. — Lucado, M. (2011). Max on life: answers and inspiration for today’s questions. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

5.       Take a guess – how often would you guess Jesus told people to fear not?

His most common command emerges from the “fear not” genre. The Gospels list some 125 Christ-issued imperatives. Of these, 21 urge us to “not be afraid” or “not fear” or “have courage” or “take heart” or “be of good cheer.” The second most common command, to love God and neighbor, appears on only eight occasions. If quantity is any indicator, Jesus takes our fears seriously. The one statement he made more than any other was this: don’t be afraid. — Lucado, M. (2009). Imagine your life without fear. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

6.       Why is fear a problem? Why did the angel tell Mary to fear not?

And fear feels dreadful. It sucks the life out of the soul, curls us into an embryonic state, and drains us dry of contentment. We become abandoned barns, rickety and tilting from the winds, a place where humanity used to eat, thrive, and find warmth. No longer. When fear shapes our lives, safety becomes our god. When safety becomes our god, we worship the risk-free life. Can the safety lover do anything great? Can the risk-averse accomplish noble deeds? For God? For others? No. The fear-filled cannot love deeply. Love is risky. They cannot give to the poor. Benevolence has no guarantee of return. The fear-filled cannot dream wildly. What if their dreams sputter and fall from the sky? The worship of safety emasculates greatness. No wonder Jesus wages such a war against fear. — Lucado, M. (2009). Imagine your life without fear. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

7.       Can fear be a good thing?

To be clear, fear serves a healthy function. It is the canary in the coal mine, warning of potential danger. A dose of fright can keep a child from running across a busy road or an adult from smoking a pack of cigarettes. Fear is the appropriate reaction to a burning building or growling dog. Fear itself is not a sin. But it can lead to sin. — Lucado, M. (2009). Imagine your life without fear. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

8.       Verse 31. What does the name “Jesus” mean?

“Jesus” is the Greek form of the Hebrew “Joshua,” which means “Jehovah is Salvation.” — Courson, J. (2003). Jon Courson’s Application Commentary (p. 298). Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson.

9.       What do you admire about Mary in verse 38?

Job illustrates this sort of attitude toward God. In one day Job lost everything he had, but he meekly accepted it. “The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD,” Job says in Job 1:21. He had lost his family, his farm, and all his wealth. But he stood before God in the midst of that disaster and said, “It’s all in God’s hands. Blessed be His name.” In Job 13:15 he even says, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.” That’s meekness: standing in the midst of disaster and knowing that God hasn’t forgotten you or made a mistake. Paul was like that. A proud, arrogant Pharisee, when confronted by the Lord he meekly said, “Lord, what do you want me to do?” Mary was also like that. Imagine this young, unmarried girl confronted with the fact that she was pregnant even though she had not been with a man. Instead of worrying about the social cost, she said, “Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). It’s as though Mary were saying, “I’m in your hands, God. Do whatever you want with me.”

When the Lord Jesus was in the Garden of Gethsemane, the weight of the world’s sin coming down upon Him, He realized the pain He would have to endure by going to the Cross. In His humanity, Jesus struggled with the price He would have to pay. But as He prayed, He said, “Not as I will, but as you will.” That’s meekness. You may be in a difficult situation where you say, “Lord, I’ve done everything I know how to do to make things work, and it isn’t working.” You’re fretting and upset. That’s the time the meek person says, “God, I don’t know what to do. I’m giving it up to you. I’m trusting in you.” That’s the meekness that Christ says will bring success. — Jeremiah, D. (1996). How to be happy according to Jesus: Study guide (pp. 47–48). Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Publishers.

10.   Anyone have the New King James? How does it have Mary’s words?

Did you get that?

Mary says, “Let it be.” And those simple words usher her into a season of wonder.

With these words, she lets go of her plan, her way, her dreams, her expectations, and her will . . . and makes open a channel for God to change the world.

And that’s just the beginning.

Mary does give birth to Jesus, who some thirty-three years later will whisper very similar words back to his Father God in the garden of Gethsemane. Facing the ultimate Plan B and wondering if there’s another way, he still prays his willingness to surrender control: “My Father, if it is not possible for this painful thing to be taken from me, and if I must do it, I pray that what you want will be done” (Matt. 26:42).

In other words, let it be.

And just see what God can do when you give him room to work. — Wilson, P. (2010). Plan b: what do you do when god doesn’t show up the way you thought he would? Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

11.   What did following God cost Mary?

After Jesus was born, she and Joseph took the baby Jesus into the temple, and the aged Simeon predicted that a sword would pass through her own heart (Luke 2:35). Of course, at the time, she could not have anticipated what all this would mean. She could not have predicted the birth in the manger, the years of conflict, and then the death that would tear her heart apart. Simeon was, oh, so right. If she was to have a Son, she was also to have a sword. Great privileges bring great sorrows.

The first time the sword pierced her heart was when innocent babies were massacred near Bethlehem because of Herod’s fear of the Messiah (Matthew 2:16–18). The small family fled to Egypt, but surely she knew that it was because of her Son that soldiers entered the houses to murder the infant sons in full view of their families. The whole region wept, and Mary and her Son were the cause of it all.

The sword struck again when she and her family listened to the whispers that implied that her Son was conceived in shame. She overheard the ridicule, the insults, and the threats. She knew that people tried to push her Son over a cliff in Nazareth; she knew that He was sought like the hawk seeks the mouse. And because she knew that He was innocent—perfect in all respects—the injustice of it all weighed upon her soul.

Think of what it must have been like to have Jesus grow up in an ordinary, imperfect Jewish home! We can only imagine the strain on the family relationships. The other children no doubt always felt inferior to their older brother, who never disobeyed, never lied, and, in short, never sinned. They soon learned that they could not blame Him for their misdeeds! Mary knew His perfections but now had to endure the misunderstandings, mockings, and scorn heaped upon Him. She knew that her Son was accomplishing a heavenly mission.

Finally, now at the cross, the sword divided Mary’s heart, piercing her to the depths. When at last the soldier pierced the side of her Son, it felt as if the sword had already sliced the heart of this mother. She who had planted kisses on the brow of that little Child now saw that brow crowned with thorns. She who had held those little hands as He learned to walk now saw those hands pierced with nails. She who had cradled Him in her arms now saw Him writhing alone on the garbage dump of Jerusalem. She who loved Him at birth came to love Him even more in death. As Pink put it, “Never such bliss at a human birth, never such sorrow at an inhuman death.”

She knew that He had the power to come down from the cross; she knew about the legions of angels at His disposal. But when He said, “Dear woman, here is your son,” and nodded toward John, she understood that He was preparing her for His death. The earthly ties were over, and a new heavenly relationship was about to begin. He would no longer be her Son but her Savior.

Mary suffers in unbroken silence. She sees the crown of thorns but cannot remove it; she sees the nails but is not allowed to pull them out; she sees the lacerations but is not able to soothe her Son’s pain with salve; she hears the mockery but is not able to quiet the crowd. It was always dangerous to be associated with a man who was believed by the Romans to be worthy of crucifixion. But she stood by His side, for though He was derided as a criminal, she knew better.

She stands by the cross; she does not swoon, she does not crouch, she does not run; she stands and sees it all. This was the hour of which Jesus had spoken; the hour from which there could be no escape. As His mother, she could only stand by, touched by His intolerable grief. She is the woman whom artists draw with a lily in hand, but someone has suggested that the white lily is stained with the red blood of a broken heart. Yes, the sword had struck its most sensitive target.

She would have gladly traded places with Him, but she could not help Him bring redemption. She might have been able to save Him if she had gone to the authorities and argued that what He said was not true and that He should be acquitted by reason of insanity. Or, more tempting, she could have simply pled for mercy. But she will not interfere with the mystery of the divine will.

Though she could not understand, she could love.

Wonderful mother that she was, she nevertheless took her place with the other sinners at the foot of the cross. She was not there to aid in purchasing redemption, but she herself was being redeemed by her Son. In the lovely poem we call the Magnificat, composed after she discovered she was pregnant, she said, “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (Luke 1:46–47, emphasis added). She too needed the forgiveness her Son was now purchasing. — Lutzer, E. W. (2002). Cries from the cross: a journey into the heart of Jesus (pp. 74–78). Chicago: Moody Publishers.

12.   Mary is worthy of admiration. However, it is possible to make too much of Mary. Does anyone know how Catholics view Mary?

Various extrabiblical religious traditions and many superstitious minds have beatified Mary beyond what is reasonable, making her an object of religious veneration, imputing to her various titles and attributes that belong to God alone. A long tradition of overzealous souls throughout history have wrongly exalted her to godlike status. Unfortunately, even in our era, Mary, not Christ, is the central focus of worship and religious affection for millions. They think of her as more approachable and more sympathetic than Christ. They revere her as the perfect Madonna, supposedly untouched by original sin, a perpetual virgin, and even co-redemptrix with Christ Himself. Catholic dogma teaches that she was taken bodily to heaven, where she was crowned “Queen of Heaven.” Her role today, according to Catholic legend, is mediatory and intercessory. Therefore, multitudes direct their prayers to her instead of to God alone—as if Mary were omnipresent and omniscient.

As a matter of fact, many people superstitiously imagine that Mary regularly appears in various apparitions here and there, and some even claim that she delivers prophecies to the world through such means. This extreme gullibility about apparitions of Mary sometimes rises to almost comical proportions. In November 2004, a stale grilled-cheese sandwich sold for $28,000 in an eBay auction because the sandwich purportedly had an image of Mary supernaturally etched in the burn marks of the toast. A few months later, thousands of worshipers in Chicago built a makeshift shrine to Mary in the walkway of a freeway underpass because someone claimed to see an image of her in salt stains on the concrete wall of the abutment.

No less than Pope John Paul II declared his total devotion to Mary. He dedicated his whole pontificate to her and had an M for Mary embroidered in all his papal garments. He prayed to her, credited her with saving his life, and even left the care of the Roman Catholic Church to her in his will. Rome has long fostered the cult of Marian devotion, and superstition about Mary is more popular today than it has ever been. So much homage is paid to Mary in Catholic churches around the world that the centrality and supremacy of Christ is often utterly obscured by the adoration of His mother.

All such veneration of Mary is entirely without biblical warrant. In fact, it is completely contrary to what Scripture expressly teaches (Rev. 19:10). But the tendency to make Mary an object of worship is nothing new. Even during Jesus’ earthly ministry, for example, there were those who showed undue reverence to Mary because of her role as His mother. On one occasion, Scripture says, a woman in the crowd raised her voice and said to Jesus, “Blessed is the womb that bore You, and the breasts at which You nursed.”

His reply was a rebuke: “On the contrary, blessed are those who hear the word of God, and observe it” (Luke 11:27–28 NASB). — MacArthur, J. F., Jr. (2005). Twelve extraordinary women: how God shaped women of the Bible and what He wants to do with you (pp. 108–109). Nashville, TN: Nelson Books.

13.   Matthew tells a part of the story that Luke leaves out: the part about Joseph. Try to imagine how it felt for Joseph to hear of Mary’s pregnancy. How would you put it into words?

Luke and Matthew report two subsequent events, but we must use our imagination to determine which came first. Luke tells us that Mary “went in a hurry to the hill country” to visit Elizabeth (Luke 1:39). Matthew describes Joseph’s struggle to accept Mary’s story. In my book A Bethlehem Christmas, I imagined Mary’s telling Joseph about the miraculous way in which she became pregnant and then retreating to Elizabeth’s house. But it is just as likely that she hastily scratched a note to her betrothed husband and quickly departed in order to put off a difficult face-to-face conversation.

Either way, I can only imagine how difficult this time was for both of them. Mary must have sounded insane. A virgin conceiving a child without having intercourse? Unbelievable. How ironic that young Mary would be the bearer of the most wonderful secret in the history of humankind and yet suffer the consequences of a sinner. What a commentary on the spiritual dullness of her community that such a privilege would come at the cost of so much pain. And not for Mary only. — Swindoll, C. R. (2011). Jesus: the greatest life of all. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

14.   How long was it before Joseph heard from an angel? What do we learn about following God from this?

Joseph didn’t receive an angelic visit until later. Imagine his private pain and confusion. Perhaps he’s looking forward to another visit with Mary’s family after a hard day’s work, another evening in the company of the woman he loves, another time to relax and dream of their future together. Then, suddenly, she’s gone. A hurried trip to the hill country of Judea.

Three months pass before Joseph receives word that she has returned. Upon first glance, he notices a slight bulge in her outer garment. He doesn’t know much, only that life has suddenly become very complicated. Here’s how I imagine Joseph recalling his experience:

After describing a most unusual story, Mary revealed that she was pregnant.

The words hit my chest like a boulder. I sat stunned as she continued with a preposterous, blasphemous story about conceiving the Messiah and the invisible God behaving in a manner that seemed to me like the deviant gods of Rome. A wave of questions flooded my mind. Who was the father? Was she taken advantage of, or did she consent? How could I have been so wrong about someone I knew so well? Is she insane? Is she in love with him? Does she not love me? Why would she do this?

I looked across the table at Mary to find her gazing at me with obvious compassion, which outraged me. Was her delusion so complete as to believe what she said? Or, worse, her deceit so profound as to feign concern for the lives she destroyed? The room began to spin and I felt my stomach rebel. I had to get outside.

I nearly tore the door off its hinges, ran into the night, and didn’t stop until I stood on the ridge outside Nazareth. Exhausted, I sank to my knees then sat for hours in the darkness, staring across the plain and into the night sky. When I was a child, I had found comfort in the vast expanse of stars, a symbol of God’s power, permanence, and unchangeable character. So, I found the appearance of a new light—a bright dot high above the horizon—a little unsettling. But my anguish would allow no other thoughts for very long before the utter absurdity of my circumstances overtook me. Each time I recovered, a new dimension of this tragedy invaded my mind and brought with it another spasm of sobs.

As the horizon turned light blue and then pink, I made my way home. My parents, though grieved and bewildered by the turn of events, advised me to delay making any decision regarding Mary. It was wise advice. One moment I wanted to rush to her side, the next I wanted to wash my hands of her. But one constant remained through all of my pain and confusion: an unrelenting love for Mary.

According to Jewish law, Joseph had the right to demand a public stoning, which would not only salve his wounded honor, but would also clear his name in the community. But he was too honorable for that. — Swindoll, C. R. (2011). Jesus: the greatest life of all. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

15.   Luke 2.1 – 7. Anyone have a study Bible? What do we know about Bethlehem? Locate it on a map.

Bethlehem, which means “house of bread,” sits 2,350 feet above sea level, surrounded by some of the most fertile land in the world. Fig trees, olive groves, and vineyards covered the hillsides while vast flocks grazed the surrounding valleys. Though only five miles south of Jerusalem, it was five miles by foot over rugged terrain, which gave it the kind of rural simplicity you would expect in a farming community. But the decree of Augustus changed all that. Lots of men could legitimately trace their roots to David, so hundreds—perhaps even thousands—converged on the little town of Bethlehem all at once. — Swindoll, C. R. (2011). Jesus: the greatest life of all. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

16.   Jesus was born in a stable. Why a stable?

Ancient Near Eastern rules of hospitality required the local inhabitants to open their homes to the visitors, but the sheer numbers would have overwhelmed the poor people of Bethlehem very quickly. So Mary and Joseph would have sought out an “inn.”

Thanks to the charming little children’s pageants presented in churches each Christmas, we typically think of the “inn” as an ancient version of Motel 6—clean beds for folks on a budget. We imagine the hapless couple vainly wandering the streets of Bethlehem searching for a vacancy.

In reality, “inns” were seedy little establishments run by shady characters, and they offered only a slightly better alternative to sleeping in the open fields. They were more like a truck stop than a motel, providing trade caravans modest room and board, as well as relative safety from robbers. They were not the kind of place a man would want to take his wife and children, and definitely not the ideal place to give birth. Nevertheless, even these were filled to capacity. — Swindoll, C. R. (2011). Jesus: the greatest life of all. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

17.   Why did Mary take this trip so late in her pregnancy? Was she required to go?

I have often wondered why Mary made the trip with Joseph knowing that she would likely deliver her child before returning home again. Perhaps he thought they could make the trip, conclude their business, and return in time. Maybe she delivered early or they miscounted the weeks. I happen to think they intended to stay with relatives, found Bethlehem overrun with travelers, and were surprised to find that the registration process took much longer than anyone anticipated. It really doesn’t matter, though. The decisions of men only served to accomplish the sovereign plan of God. Centuries before the birth of Augustus, a Jewish prophet named Micah wrote,

“But as for you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,
Too little to be among the clans of Judah,
From you One will go forth for Me to be ruler in Israel.
His goings forth are from long ago,
From the days of eternity.”
Therefore He will give them up until the time
When she who is in labor has borne a child.
Then the remainder of His brethren
Will return to the sons of Israel.
And He will arise and shepherd His flock
In the strength of the LORD,
In the majesty of the name of the LORD His God.
And they will remain,
Because at that time He will be great
To the ends of the earth.  Micah 5:2–4

Caesar Augustus thought this exercise of power would give him greater control over the world, but in the end, all he did was run an errand for God. Joseph and Mary lived in Nazareth, but the prophecy said the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem. Furthermore, we dare not forget that God is omniscient as well as sovereign. He was not taken by surprise when people from all over the realm packed into Bethlehem just before Joseph and Mary arrived. This would precipitate just one of many ironies, all of which would serve a divine purpose. — Swindoll, C. R. (2011). Jesus: the greatest life of all. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

18.   How was this birth not like any other birth?

In the weakness of human flesh, the almighty Creator of the universe came to earth. However, when God became a man in the person of Jesus Christ, He did not cease to be God, nor did He lose His divine attributes, such as omnipresence and omnipotence. He merely laid them aside for a time. Theologians call this choice kenosis, which derives from a Greek term meaning “to empty.” Perhaps the best way to illustrate the concept is to tell the story of Thomas Mott Osborne.

In October 1914, Osborne entered Auburn Prison in upstate New York, and like all the other prisoners, he was photographed, fingerprinted, stripped of his possessions, issued a set of prison grays, and led to a cell, four feet wide by seven and a half feet long and seven and a half feet tall. The only difference between prisoner 33,333x and the other 1,329 inmates was the issue of freedom. On his command, he could leave the prison anytime he desired.

After his appointment to Governor Sulzer’s State Commission on Prison Reform, Osborne made it his mission to live as one of the inmates, study their experience, and emerge as their advocate. He voluntarily laid aside his freedom to experience life behind bars. He slept in a dank, drafty cell just like theirs. He ate their food and labored as they did. He even endured their most dreaded punishment, a night in “the box.” While he could order his own release at any time, he was nevertheless confined. He wrote, “I am a prisoner, locked, double locked. By no human possibility, by no act of my own, can I throw open the iron grating which shuts me from the world into this small stone vault. I am a voluntary prisoner, it is true; nevertheless even a voluntary prisoner can’t unlock the door of his cell.”

Just as Osborne was at once free yet confined to prison, Jesus was omnipotent yet helpless as an infant, dependent upon His mother’s milk for survival. He set aside His rightful entitlements of deity to become the least privileged of people—born among the poorest of the poor. This humble entrance into the world would characterize the rest of His days on earth and illustrate the difference between His kingdom and the world’s idea of power, authority, riches, and privilege. — Swindoll, C. R. (2011). Jesus: the greatest life of all. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

19.   How do our manger scenes fail to portray the true story?

If we imagine that Jesus was born in a freshly swept, county fair stable, we miss the whole point. It was wretched—scandalous! There was sweat and pain and blood and cries as Mary reached up to the heavens for help. The earth was cold and hard. The smell of birth mixed with the stench of manure and acrid straw made a contemptible bouquet. Trembling carpenter’s hands, clumsy with fear, grasped God’s Son slippery with blood—the baby’s limbs waving helplessly as if falling through space—his face grimacing as he gasped in the cold and his cry pierced the night.

      My mother groaned, my father wept.
      Into the dangerous world I leapt.

It was clearly a leap down—as if the Son of God rose from his splendor, stood poised at the rim of the universe irradiating light, and dove headlong, speeding through the stars over the Milky Way to earth’s galaxy, finally past Arcturus, where he plunged into a huddle of animals. Nothing could be lower. — Hughes, R. K. (1998). Luke: that you may know the truth (pp. 83–84). Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books.

20.   What do you want to recall from this week’s lesson?

21.   How can we support one another in prayer this week?