In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.
(This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.)
And everyone went to their own town to register.
So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.
He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.
While they were there, 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, because there was no guest room available for them.
Luke 2:1-7
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I imagine the night of Jesus’s birth as being a very busy one.
The hotel was a flurry of activity. I picture large families, in town for the census, crammed into small hotel rooms with their bags. Babies crying, toddlers toddling, parents trying their best to keep their sanity.
With such a packed hotel, no doubt the lobby would be full of people as well. The restaurant full, the hotel bar maxed to capacity. The staff exhausted.
Outside the hotel, the action was furious and rushed. Government officials preparing themselves for the census. Tax collectors were preparing their books and schemes to collect as much money as possible.
Meanwhile, the city merchants, restaurateurs, and traders flurried about late into the night preparing their stores and businesses for all the incoming traffic. No doubt, all employees were required to work overtime to take advantage of this once-in-a-generation opportunity of the census coming to town.
Into this busy night, in a quiet manger, Jesus was born.
I imagine the people in town that evening were so preoccupied with the hustle and bustle of the season, they had no idea what had just happened only a mere few steps away.
A baby had been born. A baby that would eventually heal the blind, cure the sick, and bring a dead man back to life. He would walk on water, feed 5,000 from a small boy’s lunch, overturn tables in the Temple Courts, and split time in half.
This man would live a perfect life. He would reveal God to humanity and teach truths about the Kingdom of God never before understood by human hearts. He would welcome the leper, the outcast, the child, the downtrodden, and the lonely.
This little baby, born in a quiet stable, would eventually carry the sin of the world on his shoulders. He would die on a cross and rise from the dead three days later defeating sin and death forever. His name would be lifted above every other name and become the only name through which humanity can be saved.
And all the townspeople that busy night, rushing about, had no idea.
This is too often the case for us as well. We scurry about this season with busy to-do lists, full houses, and often miss the magnitude of the birth we celebrate.
My grandmother died on Christmas Eve, 2005. My grandpa and her were married 59 years before she passed away.
Years later, just before his own death in 2020, my grandpa told us how every Christmas Eve, despite the entire family being over to celebrate the season, he would quietly withdraw by himself to his bedroom at 2pm and sit alone for just a bit.
He would use the quietness in his room to think about his beloved wife Beulah, remembering her, and thanking God he was blessed so much by Him to be given her for his wife. None of us even knew he did that every Christmas Eve—for 15 years!
The practice is a good one for all of us.
Sometime on Christmas Day, despite all the hustle and bustle of activity among your loved ones, withdraw by yourself to a quiet place, even for just a few minutes, and consider the baby whose birth we celebrate today.
Sit quietly with your thoughts and with your God meditating on the magnificence and weight of the events we celebrate that day.
For to us a child has been born, a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. And of the greatness of his government and peace, there will be no end.
This is the baby born, Immanuel (which means “God with us”).
But if we’re too busy, we’ll also miss it.
Prayer
Help me, O God, to not miss the weight and magnitude of Christmas. A baby born in a manger that changed the course of history. So much so, that even a world that rejects Him stops every year, for an entire season, to celebrate. Help me to not get so busy that I miss Jesus. Amen.