Bloody straw in Bethlehem?
Credit: Mae Warner
Every Christmas season, I pull out boxes of decorations from the attic and the twins help put the familiar pieces in the familiar places. The Precious Moments nativity set that goes on the table. Tiny, soft porcelain figurines, all of them the loveliest lacquered white, each with a distinct Precious Moments smile and eyes as big and watery as Lake Erie. This is the only Christmas decor that I always place on my own, without helpful suggestions from others.
Mary is my favorite of the delicate characters in the set. She is kneeling serenely gazing down upon her newly born babe, the sweetest most poised smile that makes you want to weep by just looking at her. Sometimes I wonder if we have sterilized the birth of Jesus so much we take the human, hard part out. Have we made it so serene that we forget about bloody straw, stuck to Mary's thighs? I like to imagine a version of the story somewhere in the middle of pure and painful.
Kenneth Bailey’s “Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes: Cultural Studies in the Gospels [1]” indicates that the structures of the day were divided into two rooms; one for the family and animals, and another one for visiting guests. The guest quarters were taken, which meant Mary and Joseph were in with the family. They were inside a house with animals. Not in a barn without people. In fact, they were probably surrounded by people they trusted. And most likely, women. Plenty of them. (They are just too "unimportant" to write into the story at the time.)
I get right up on board with this description. The middle ground between porcelain perfection and lonely fear is a supportive community. Here's Mary, laboring while supported by women who have been down that road before, one or five times.
The women around her, surrounding her, helping her. Cooing their praise and admiration for how well she is doing. Stealthily readying the room, the world, for the King.
Mary is steadfast, healthy and courageous. Talented, soft hands hold her. The universe leans in to bear witness. She knew this would be what she would need, here in Bethlehem, not in the guest quarters, but with the family. The right women at the right time had always helped her feel unstoppable. Confident, she carries on laboring into the night.
Push, push. Breathe.
The women around her help her unleash her power. Here in the night, attended to by women she loves, she rises into her own place in the story of redemption. Peace and power dance within her in a way she has never felt before.
Hands clutched, teeth bared, tongue hissing...Power, power, power.
Push, push, push, push, push...
And then...then there was peace on Earth and goodwill toward women.
The King entered the world through Mary’s opulent vulva, surrounded by women. And then descended into the dirt, the blood and the straw, to save us all.
Mary, you are so much more than porcelain perfection. You are gritty and powerful and real. They are right to call you pure. Not because you are perfect, but because you are authentic and honest. You are pure strength. You are pure steady. You are pure intelligence. You are pure patience. You are pure love. You are pure resilience. You are pure female.
You are every single one of us.
You have birthed peace on earth, goodwill toward women.
[1] Bailey, Kenneth E. Jesus through Middle Eastern Eyes. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2008.
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