Tip of My Iceberg

The island country of Malta in the Mediterranean Sea has celebrated Christmas for centuries with people crafting what are known as Nativity Cribs, the name common years ago for the feeding box used by livestock, now called mangers.

In 2020 a competition was held, with ten of these beautiful scenes displayed at the Museum of the Bible, and it’s been hosted by this museum for the past several years. This year three of the top cribs were displayed, and John and I got to see them.

Exquisitely made with details reflecting traditional life in this region, I was stunned by their beauty and the particular features of each.

The one that caught my eye showed Mary asleep on the ground, and Joseph is watching this new Son that has just been born, his face filled with awe and wonder. Not what many nativities reflect these days.

Many of the pictures we’ve created of that first Christmas aren’t realistic according to Biblical or historical accounts.

Mary, who was in her mid-teens when she became pregnant with the Son of God, wasn’t divine but a young woman of faith. She truly loved her Lord and believed the prophecies of the Old Testament books. When the angel Gabriel appeared to her to tell her what would happen, her confusion turned to belief. She saw herself as the Lord’s beloved servant.

Mary also didn’t ride a donkey to Bethlehem from Nazareth. She and Joseph were poor; they walked everywhere–the common mode of transportation then. The chances are there were no sheep or cows in the place where Jesus was born. There are no mention of any animals at the birth.

There was no lodging for this immigrant couple, so Mary probably gave birth in a cave, of which there are many around Bethlehem. It would have been a multi-purpose space, with a blackened stone ceiling for all the fires lit in there. The manger, or feeding trough, wasn’t wood but stone with a round indentation in the middle for feed for animals.

Not the picture we’re familiar with.

The Wise Men weren’t at the birth. There is no indication that there were three of them; there were three gifts. The fact that learned scholars would travel that distance alone without associates helping them out is ridiculous. Matthew, who is the only one that shares the details of the Magi, states, “They entered the house and saw the child with His mother, Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped Him. then they opened their treasure chest and gave Him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.” (Matthew 2:11) They came after the census when everyone had left Bethlehem.

No camels the night Jesus was born.

What I love about the nativity from Malta is that Mary is exhausted and asleep. They’d walked about eighty miles from Nazareth to Bethlehem; Mary was nine months pregnant. A census was being taken, and they had to go to Bethlehem because it was Joseph’s ancestral home where he would register. After the birth–I’ve been through it six times, and I can tell you, it’s no picnic–she was tired. While she’s asleep, Joseph is in awe of this Promise that had come. The Messiah, guaranteed by God since Genesis 3:15, had come at a dark time for the salvation of the world.

How easy it is to get caught up in the picturesque scene of a holy birth, surrounded by sweet animals and admiring shepherds, magi, and a drummer boy.

The Son of God came into the world as a Baby, birthed in a dirty place, a teen-aged mom doing her best with a father not all that much older. There was no pomp and circumstance.

Jesus didn’t come to bring an easy life–He never had one. He came to give hope, forgiveness, grace, and mercy to us who need it. He became one of us to live with us and sacrifice Himself for us.

Love isn’t always pretty.

But real love is glorious.