Choosing To Be Born

Imagine that you could choose to be born. What if, floating in some kind of state of pre-existence, you could look out over the whole of history and pick a period to be born into? When would it be? What country would you choose? Knowing how much our family and our family history shapes us, who would you pick to best set you up for success? Would you pick a mighty royal dynasty or a family of wealthy influencers or a brilliant circle of scientists or philosophers? It is kind of fun to think about how we could, to a large extent, choose the story we would get to live.

In the history of the world, however, only one person ever chose to be born: Jesus. And he made some distinctly curious choices. He chose to be born in obscurity, from a broken lineage, into a time of great spiritual darkness.

(University of Pennsylvania Archives and Records Center)

In the first chapter of the Gospel of Matthew, we find the genealogy of Jesus as traced through Joseph, the man who would serve as his earthly father. About halfway through, I stop recognizing most names. Famous figures are rapidly replaced with men who lived lives that we know little or nothing about. Jesus waits and chooses to be born into an unremarkable, modest family. He isn’t born amidst the luxuries of Abraham or Jacob. He isn’t born in the palaces of David or Solomon. He isn’t born in the spiritual revivals of Josiah or Zerubbabel. He is born as the son of a common man, grows up in a town of questionable integrity, and lives a life of general poverty.

Even in the grander moments of his family tree, we find a scandalous series of ancestors. Generations of habitual liars, adulterers, murders, prostitutes, polygamists, rapists, slave dealers, idolaters, and child-sacrificers. Yikes. That sounds like a seriously scary family reunion. Jesus didn’t come from a perfect family by any stretch of the imagination. This is all too familiar for many of us who carry around a lot of family baggage we didn’t choose; but Jesus did choose, and he chose this messy, mangled family tree.

Finally, Jesus is born into a time and place of profound spiritual darkness. The 400 years of silence between the Old and New Testaments reflects more on the deafness of humanity, particularly the Jewish nation, than on the voice of God. As the story of Jesus unfolds, the depravity of the spiritual leadership found in the Pharisees, Sadducees, and scribes makes it clear just how deep this darkness is: dark enough to crucify God on a cross.

This is the life (and death) Jesus chose. There is stunning humility, not just in the act of God becoming human, but in this specific type of incarnation. In laying aside what he could have claimed for himself, and choosing the life of Jesus of Nazareth, he chose to align himself with our brokenness. Jesus knows our suffering and is touched by our weaknesses because they are his own. When Jesus was born, he truly came to be Emmanuel, God with us. Not just God near us or around us or next to us, but God with us, as one of us.

Jesus laid aside his clothing of light too powerful for sinful humanity to bear, in order to be with us. This incredible embodiment of love is so strong, and so gentle. To lay aside his glory is a truly humbling act of gentleness. I can only imagine how vulnerable this must have felt, like being stranded outside in the winter without clothes. Yet Jesus became Emmanuel with a grace that shook the world.

When I see the humility and gentleness of how Jesus chose to be born, I am challenged to want to live like that. Yes, even though all that is within me and around me tells me that this path leads to a story of less power and less control, I cannot help but believe it is the way to true life. I want to let brokenness and baggage (in myself and others) transform into compassion and empathy inside me. I want to be willing to lay aside my power and the things I have the right to, in order to serve others with humility and gentleness. May we all receive this gift from the healing hands of Jesus and, in turn, share this grace with all around us.