Reimagining Christmas
Pondering the Middle Eastern Christmas story, the Advent season, and why it matters.
We lived in a small farmhouse during my late childhood and teenage years. The main floor held a living-dining area, a narrow galley kitchen, my parents’ bedroom, and a piano/laundry room that led into the only bathroom in the house. There were two more small bedrooms upstairs and that was it. But despite the size and the fact that we lived two hours away, on Thanksgiving relatives from both sides of my family descended on our tiny home. They crammed in and filled the house with stories, laughter, and fun. I don’t know how the adults felt about the situation, but as a kid I loved the chaos even when I had to eat my turkey sitting on the piano bench.
I was thinking about those beautifully crowded Thanksgivings and pondering the Advent season because Jesus was welcomed into a small house filled with too many relatives like mine.
Lately I’ve been sharing things on my Substack Notes and Threads that I’ve learned about approaching Scripture and God from a different perspective—from a Middle Eastern perspective if we can. Based on the response, it feels like many of us are hungry for this kind of truth.
Last year I wrote an essay about Jesus’ birth based on what I’d learned from Kenneth E. Bailey’s book, Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes. I want to share pieces of it again.
If you don’t want your picture of Christmas ruined, then you should probably stop reading now. But if, like me, you feel a disconnect with our Western, traditional, or evangelical Christian Christmas, then I’d encourage you to keep reading and maybe grab a copy of Kenneth E, Bailey’s book for yourself.
Truths open up when we understand them in the way they actually happened.
How Kenneth Bailey Simultaneously Ruined and Saved Christmas
“For a while now, I’ve noticed a disconnect in my heart at Christmas time. Something has felt off. I’ve struggled to feel the expected feelings of wonder and awe that this time of year is supposed to create. I’ve stared at my nativity scene and wondered what was wrong with me. Turns out it wasn’t all me; the nativity scene was also wrong. The scene, story, and characters are sweet, quaint, traditional, and also somewhat mythical.
We miss important truth in the Bible when we read our translations in English from a Western, 21st century perspective. Kenneth Bailey spent 60 years living in the Middle East. He grew up in Egypt and over the next 40 years taught New Testament studies at seminaries and institutes in Egypt, Lebanon, Jerusalem, and Cyprus. After reading his book, I am even more convinced of our desperate need for Middle Eastern Christians and their understanding and perspectives. We are literal outsiders. We do not know.
We are unfamiliar with the shame and honor culture that exists in places like the Middle East as well as the cultural importance of generosity and hospitality. We don’t realize that the nation of Israel has never had large forests or the trees necessary to build with wood and most of their homes and buildings were made of stone. We are ignorant of the fact that there are two Greek words that can be translated as inn, but one is more accurately translated guest room.
Like people usually do, we’ve created a picture of something based on our own experiences and perspectives. This is what happened when the well-loved Christmas carols were composed, the manger scene images were painted, and a nativity novel was written in A.D. 200 by an anonymous Christian. Many of the ideas we get about the Christmas story were formed in this novel written by a Gentile believer, two hundred years after the birth of Jesus, with no understanding of Palestinian geography or Jewish tradition.
The truth is Joseph and Mary were returning to Joseph’s hometown in a culture where hospitality and generosity were closely connected to righteousness. They would most definitely have been welcomed into the home of a family member or friend. The phrase we often read written as no room in the inn is more accurately translated no space in the guest room. Many of the one room homes in this time had a separate guest room either attached as a second story or on the side of the house with a separate entrance.
And despite the shame that Mary’s unmarried pregnancy brought to her and Joseph, the women of the town would absolutely have cared for her and helped with the delivery of her first child. It would have been culturally unthinkable not to.
The word manger has led us to believe that Jesus was born in a stable or barn. But what people have failed to recognize was that houses in biblical times often had a slightly lower stable section where small animals were brought in at night or during winter to keep them safe and provide more warmth for the family. There were stone troughs (mangers) set up or built in between the animal section and people section. One of these could easily have been transformed into a bed for baby Jesus.
I can’t exactly explain why, but this narrative is much more solid and satisfying to me. It resonates with my heart and calms my soul. I feel awe and wonder, peace and love.
Jesus wasn’t born in a cold, drafty barn, but in a warm, crowded house.
Mary didn’t deliver baby Jesus alone or with the help of an inexperienced man, but surrounded by local women who knew what they were doing.
No rude innkeeper turned them away because he wouldn’t make room, the house was simply crowded with people and the best place for delivery wasn’t the guest room.
The animals weren’t standing around, chomping hay, and breathing on newborn baby Jesus, Mary used what she had available to make a bed and keep Jesus safe.
This Nativity account tells me that Jesus came as a baby already carrying shame for us through the way he was conceived and born. He came quietly without fanfare or applause to ordinary people in an ordinary way because He is like that. From the very beginning, God lived with us—crowded into a house filled with the noise and bustle of too many people. He immediately sought the outcasts and brought them near with pure acceptance. He was everything we’ve ever wanted, and nothing we expected Him to be.”
If you are interested, you can read the rest here.
As I move into the season of Advent, it will be my third time trying to celebrate it. I’m excited. I love taking time to feel the longing and ache, the brokenness of our world, and our need for and hope of a Savior. I’ll make a wreath from my cedar trees and we will light a candle each Sunday over breakfast. I will read a section from the Book of Common Prayer or possibly a prayer and scripture I find online. It’s simple. It’s good. I’m learning.
As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts, questions, or comments. You can find me on Threads, Instagram, Facebook, my website, and on my original podcast. I’d love to connect with you on any of these places!
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Thank you for introducing Kenneth Bailey! Read “No Inn at the Inn,” too.
Aside from living in the tropics, it is hard for me to feel some affinity for Christmas here with Santa Claus and winter themes in malls and homes. More so when the traditional ideas about the Nativity e.g. three Wise Men visiting baby Jesus with the shepherds in the background are simply anachronistic. And Mary giving birth to Jesus in a manger would have been a delicate balancing act.
For so many years, these false ideas of Christianity have been tolerated. No wonder other more serious false views have gone unchallenged for years, too.
Oh, goodness, this just is a stunning thought to me:
"This Nativity account tells me that Jesus came as a baby already carrying shame for us through the way he was conceived and born."