12 Jesus’ Birth in Bethlehem (Luke 2:1–7)
Now in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus, that a census be taken of all the inhabited earth. This was the first census taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. And everyone was on his way to register for the census, each to his own city. Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, in order to register along with Mary, who was engaged to him, and was with child. While they were there, the days were completed for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. (2:1–7)
Luke’s simple, straightforward, unembellished language de scribes the most profound birth, with the most far-reaching implications, in the history of the world. On a night like any other night, in an obscure village in Israel, unnoticed by the world, a child was born. But while His birth was like that of every other child, the child was unlike any other child ever born, either before or since. For this child was the Son of God, the Lord Jesus Christ, deity in human flesh, Israel’s long-awaited Messiah, the Savior of the world. In His birth God entered human society as an infant; the creator of the universe became a man; the eternal “Word became flesh, and dwelt among us” (John 1:14).
This chapter, which provides the most detailed look at the events of the first Christmas, is perhaps the most widely known chapter in the Bible. Its familiar story has inspired music, cards, books, and pageants over the centuries. But the world celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ for all the wrong reasons. Christmas has become an excuse for self-indulgence, materialism, and partying; it has degenerated into a secularized social event that misses entirely its true meaning.
For the first few centuries of its existence, the church did not celebrate Christ’s birth. Some of the early fathers, most notably Origen, even argued against celebrating the birthdays of saints and martyrs (including Jesus). They reasoned that such people should be honored instead on the day of their martyrdom. Noting that the only birthdays mentioned in the Bible are those of Pharaoh (Gen. 40:20) and Herod (Matt. 14:6), they viewed birthday celebrations as a pagan custom. By the second century, the actual date of Christ’s birth had been forgotten, as evidenced by the numerous dates proposed for it (e.g., January 2, 6; March 21, 25; April 18, 19; May 20, 28; November 17, 20).
Exactly when the early church settled on December 25 is not known. The first recorded reference to that date as the day of Christ’s birth is found in the writings of Sextus Julius Africanus early in the third century. The earliest evidence of the church celebrating Christmas on December 25 comes from the fourth-century manuscript known as the Chronography or Calendar of 354. According to that document Christmas was being celebrated on December 25 by the church at Rome no later than A.D. 336. That date was gradually adopted by the church as a whole over the next several centuries.
Why the church finally decided to celebrate the birth of Jesus on December 25 is also not known for certain. Some believe that it was to offer a Christian alternative to the popular pagan holiday known as Dies Natalis Solis Invicti (“the birthday of the unconquered sun”), which was celebrated on December 25. That festival was inaugurated late in the third century to honor several sun gods, chief of which was Mithras, whose worship (Mithraism) posed a serious threat to the Christian church. Others hold that the date was chosen because it is nine months after March 25, the day that some in the early church believed (without biblical warrant) was the date of Jesus’ conception.
Over the centuries the trappings now commonly associated with Christmas gradually seeped into the celebration. Gift giving was an integral part of the pagan winter festivals, and became firmly associated with Christmas by the end of the eighteenth century. Mistletoe was sacred to the ancient Druids, who attributed to it both magical and medicinal powers. Kissing under the mistletoe may derive from a Druid or Scandinavian custom that enemies who met under mistletoe were to cease fighting and observe a truce. The crèche, or manger scene, originated with St. Francis of Assisi in the thirteenth century. The practice of singing carols also originated in the Middle Ages. The city of Riga in Latvia claims to be the home of the first Christmas tree, dating from the year 1510. Others legends attribute the first Christmas tree to Martin Luther, who allegedly brought an evergreen tree into his house and decorated it. There is, however, no contemporary record of his having done so. Christmas trees became popular in Germany in the seventeenth century, and first appeared in America early in the nineteenth century. The first commercial Christmas cards were sold in London in 1843.
Santa Claus, the secular symbol of Christmas, derives from the fourth-century Saint Nicholas, bishop of Myra in modern Turkey. Though little is known of his life, Nicholas was remembered for his generosity and kindness. According to one legend, he rescued three daughters of a poor family from being forced into prostitution by providing dowries for them so they could marry. After doing their laundry, the girls hung their stockings by the fireplace to dry. That night Nicholas tossed a small bag of gold coins into each girl’s stocking. The custom of hanging Christmas stockings derives in part from that story. Settlers from the Netherlands, where Nicholas is popular, brought his tradition with them to America. Nicholas’s Dutch name, Sinterklaas, or Sinte Klaas, eventually became Anglicized into “Santa Claus.”
All of those extrabiblical elements only obscure the simple, yet unfathomably profound, meaning of Christmas. No less a theologian than Martin Luther confessed,
When I am told that God became man, I can follow the idea, but I just do not understand what it means. For what man, if left to his natural promptings, if he were God, would humble himself to lie in the feedbox of a donkey or to hang upon a cross? God laid upon Christ the iniquities of us all. This is that ineffable and infinite mercy of God which the slender capacity of man’s heart cannot comprehend and much less utter—that unfathomable depth and burning zeal of God’s love toward us…. Who can sufficiently declare this exceeding great goodness of God? (cited in Roland H. Bainton, Here I Stand [Nashville: Abingdon, 1950], 223)
For the moment, the curtain has fallen in Luke’s narrative on the story of John the Baptist (1:80), and is about to rise on the story of Jesus Christ. The promise made to Mary by Gabriel (1:31–35) is about to be fulfilled. As Luke picks up the story of Jesus’ birth, he demonstrates how God sovereignly orchestrated events to bring about a direct fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy. Divine intervention was required, because in the normal course of events, Jesus would not have been born in Bethlehem as the Old Testament predicted (Mic. 5:2), since Joseph and Mary lived in Nazareth.
Before describing the birth of the Savior, Luke gave three settings for it: the world, national, and personal. Those settings are fitting for the One who is the Savior of the world, the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy, and the redeemer of individuals who humbly put their trust in Him.
THE WORLD SETTING
Now in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus, that a census be taken of all the inhabited earth. This was the first census taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. And everyone was on his way to register for the census, each to his own city. (2:1–3)
To fulfill the prophecy that Messiah would be born in Bethlehem God in His providence moved the heart of the most powerful man in the world—the ruler of the mighty Roman Empire. The emperor, seated on his throne in the imperial capital at Rome, was far removed from the tiny hamlet of Bethlehem. He was even further removed from an understanding of the purposes and plans of God, being utterly ignorant of His Word. Yet he played a crucial role in fulfilling God’s design concerning the birth of His Son. I. Howard Marshall writes, “The census … serves to place the birth of Jesus in the context of world history and to show that the fiat of an earthly ruler can be utilized in the will of God to bring his more important purposes to fruition” (The Gospel of Luke, The New International Greek Testament Commentary [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1978], 97–98).
Luke noted first that Messiah’s birth took place in those days; that is, “in the days of Herod, king of Judea” (1:5). Herod, the Idumean (Edomite) vassal king under Rome, was nearing the end of his long reign and would die soon after Christ’s birth. Those were also the days of the hated Roman occupation of Israel, which the Jews found especially galling for several reasons. First, the Romans were Gentiles, whom the Jews viewed as unclean, and outside of God’s covenants (cf. Eph. 2:12). As much as possible, the Jews avoided contact with them. Peter told the Gentiles gathered in the house of Cornelius, “You yourselves know how unlawful it is for a man who is a Jew to associate with a foreigner or to visit him” (Acts 10:28). After hearing of his visit to Cornelius’s house some of the Jewish believers in Jerusalem said in shock and disbelief, “You went to uncircumcised men and ate with them” (Acts 11:3). The Jews also abhorred the Romans’ blatant idolatry; they had been cured of their own penchant for idolatry by the Babylonian captivity. They also found the Romans’ taxation oppressive, and hated both it and those Jews (such as Matthew and Zaccheus) who helped collect the taxes (cf. Luke 18:11–13).
Though in other places (e.g., 3:1) Luke was precise in his dating, here he gave only a general time frame. Thus it is impossible to deduce the exact date of Christ’s birth from this passage. Another clue in the text, however, helps make the time a little more specific. Luke connected the Lord’s birth with a particular decree or imperial edict, which was handed down by the emperor and binding on his subjects (cf. Acts 17:7 where the same Greek word is used; see also Acts 18:2).
This particular decree was issued by the reigning emperor, Caesar Augustus. That was not his name, but rather his title; Caesar means “emperor,” while Augustus means, “revered,” “honored,” or “esteemed,” and reflects the great respect that he commanded. Augustus’s ascension to the throne marked the beginning of the Roman Empire. He restored unity and orderly government after a long period of destructive civil wars, and ushered in the Pax Romana, an era of peace and prosperity throughout the Greco-Roman world that lasted for two centuries. He is arguably the most significant person in Roman history.
Augustus was born Gaius Octavius on September 23, 63 B.C. His grandmother was Julius Caesar’s sister, making Octavius his grand-nephew. After Julius’s assassination in 44 B.C., Octavius learned that Caesar had adopted him and made him his heir. In keeping with Roman custom, he then took the name Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus (usually shortened in English to Octavian).
After Caesar’s murder Octavian shrewdly used his status as Caeasar’s adopted son to build up his power. After initially clashing with Mark Antony, Octavian joined with him and Lepidus to form the Second Triumvirate (the First Triumvirate had consisted of Julius Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus). They then attacked Caesar’s assassins, Brutus and Cassius. The forces of the Triumvirate decisively defeated their armies near Philippi, after which Brutus and Cassius committed suicide.
The Second Triumvirate lasted for less than a decade. While Antony was in the east fighting the Parthians, Octavian forced Lepidus from power. Then in 32 B.C. Antony divorced Octavian’s sister, Octavia, whom he had married to cement his political alliance with Octavian. He then resumed his affair with Cleopatra (with whom he had had two children before he married Octavia). This affront to his sister naturally infuriated Octavian. Even worse, Antony declared Caesarion, Cleopatra’s son from her affair with Julius Caesar, to be Caesar’s legitimate son and heir, thus undercutting Octavian’s position as Caesar’s heir. War broke out between the two rivals and Octavian decisively defeated the forces of Antony and Cleopatra in the naval battle of Actium (31 B.C.), after which Antony and Cleopatra committed suicide. Octavian was now the sole ruler of the Roman world. In 27 B.C., the Senate conferred on him the titles Augustus (see the discussion of this term above) and Princeps, or “first citizen.” Octavian’s immense wealth, the respect he commanded, and his control of the army made his rule absolute.
Octavian died in A.D. 14, and was succeeded by his stepson Tiberius, who was the emperor during the ministry of Jesus Christ. Octavian left a legacy of peace, prosperity, wise administration, and a commitment to public works. There is an element of truth in the boast he made on his deathbed that he found Rome brick and left it marble. The network of roads he developed aided in the spread of the gospel by Christian missionaries. Octavian was intelligent, decisive, bold, and not afraid to take risks when necessary. He was a patron of the arts, a friend of such noted writers as Ovid, Horace, Virgil, and Livy. Such was the respect that he commanded that his loyal subjects deified him after his death.
Of all the decrees Octavian issued during his long reign, Luke is concerned with one mandating that a census be taken of all the inhabited earth (i.e., the Roman Empire; cf. Acts 17:6; 19:27). Such censuses (or enrollments) were generally taken either to register young men for military service or for purposes of taxation. This census was for the latter reason, since the Jews were exempt from Roman military service.
Seeking to deny the truthfulness of Luke’s account, anti-Scripture critics maintain that there is no existing record of an empire-wide census during Octavian’s reign. But that argument from silence is undercut by the many censuses known to have been carried out at about that same time in various parts of the empire (cf. Darrell L. Bock, Luke 1:1–9:50, Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament [Grand Rapids: Baker, 1994], 904). Nor were such censuses merely one-time occurrences. In Egypt, for example, censuses were taken every fourteen years, beginning no later than A.D. 20 and running through at least A.D. 258 (William Ramsay, Was Christ Born at Bethlehem? [London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1898], 132; The Bearing of Recent Discovery on the Trustworthiness of the New Testament [2nd edition; London: Hodder and Stoughton 1915], 256). Ramsay argued that the practice of taking recurring censuses was not limited to Egypt, but was empire-wide (The Bearing of Recent Discovery on the Trustworthiness of the New Testament, 257; cf. William Hendriksen, The Gospel of Luke, New Testament Commentary [Grand Rapids: Baker, 1978], 138–39). Further, the second-century church father Clement of Alexandria wrote that the same cycle of periodic censuses existed in the province of Syria (which included Palestine). Clement also stated that the first census taken in Syria was the one connected with Christ’s birth (A. T. Robertson, Luke the Historian in the Light of Research [New York: Scribner, 1920], 122–29).
Thus, to charge Luke with error for speaking of two censuses in Palestine (see the discussion below), one in A.D. 6 (referred to in Acts 5:37 and by the first-century Jewish historian Josephus) and this one fourteen years earlier in 8 B.C., ignores the historical evidence. Luke’s readers knew all about the census system he was describing, so for him to have invented the story would have been foolish:
No historian of any kind or class would state a falsehood whose falsity was obvious to every reader…. The conclusion was evident. Luke trusted to his readers’ familiarity with the facts and the census-system. He spoke of the first census, knowing how much that would imply to them. They knew the system as it was carried out in the Roman Empire. (Ramsay, The Bearing of Recent Discovery on the Trustworthiness of the New Testament, 239)
Luke further indentified this census as the first census taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. The mention of Quirinius introduces a further difficulty, since he is known to have governed Syria from A.D. 6–9. As governor, Quirinius administered the census of A.D. 6. That cannot, however, be the census in view here, because it took place more than a decade after Herod’s death, while Herod was still alive when Jesus was born (Matt. 2:1–3). Many possible solutions have been proposed (see the discussion in Bock, Luke 1:1–9:50, 906–909; Harold Hoehner, Chronological Aspects of the Life of Christ [Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1977], 18–22; Marshall, The Gospel of Luke, 102–104). Perhaps the best solution is the one championed by Sir William Ramsay. Based on inscriptional evidence, Ramsay argued that Quirinius had twice held an important position in the province of Syria (Was Christ Born at Bethlehem? 227–48). It should be noted that the Greek word translated governor is a nontechnical term for a person in authority, “hence the word, as employed by Luke, might be applied to any Roman official holding a leading and authoritative position in the province of Syria” (Ramsay, Was Christ Born at Bethlehem? 229). At the time of the first census in 8 B.C., “Varus was controlling the internal affairs of Syria while Quirinius was commanding its armies and controlling its foreign policy” (Ramsay, Was Christ Born at Bethlehem? 244).
The 8 B.C. date for the decree also presents a problem, since scholars generally agree that Jesus was born no earlier than 6 B.C., and more likely closer to 4 B.C. Evidently there was a delay in carrying out the decree in Palestine, to which a number of factors may have contributed. First, ancient communication was slow, and implementation slowly enforced. The latter years of Herod’s reign were also a time of turmoil and upheaval. Herod was ill, and his sons were fighting over who would succeed him. Herod executed three of them and changed his will three times. He also fell out of favor with Octavian. That instability, coupled with Jewish resistance to Roman taxation, and the logistic difficulties inherent in carrying out a census in those days, could easily have delayed the implementation of the emperor’s decree.
Eventually, however, the census was taken, and thus everyone went to register for the census, each to his own city. Obviously a deadline had been imposed, or else Joseph and Mary would not have made the long trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem in the winter and so near the end of her pregnancy. Some have questioned why Joseph and Mary went to Bethlehem, noting that the Romans generally had people register where they were currently living. Those owning property in another district, however, were required to go there to register (Marshall, The Gospel of Luke, 101). Although Luke does not mention it, Joseph may have owned some property in the vicinity of Bethlehem. Another possibility is that the Romans acquiesced to Jewish custom, which stressed the importance of one’s ancestral home (cf. Lev. 25:10). Further, an early second-century document from Egypt indicates that the Egyptians were also required to return to their homes for the census just as Joseph and Mary did (Robertson, Luke the Historian, 125–26). That shows that the Romans were flexible on such matters of local custom.
God providentially arranged the world setting to get Joseph and Mary to Bethlehem so His Son would be born where the Old Testament predicted He would be. As He had with Artaxerxes (Ezra 7:21–26), Tiglath-pileser (Isa. 10:5–7), and Cyrus (Isa. 45:1–4), God directed the mind of the most powerful man on earth, Caesar Augustus, to accomplish His purposes (cf. Prov. 21:1).
THE NATIONAL SETTING
Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, in order to register along with Mary, who was engaged to him, and was with child. (2:4–5)
The nation of Israel is inseparably linked with the Old Testament Scriptures, which clearly predicted where Messiah would be born. Centuries earlier the prophet Micah had written, “But as for you, Bethlehem Ephrathah [Bethlehem’s original name; cf. Gen. 35:19], too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you One will go forth for Me to be ruler in Israel. His goings forth are from long ago, from the days of eternity” (Mic. 5:2). Although Bethlehem was a small, insignificant village, “too little to be among the clans of Judah,” God declared that it would produce a ruler in Israel. The only king who came from Bethlehem was David, but he cannot be in view in this passage. David died long before Micah’s day, but the ruler of whom the prophet wrote was yet to come. Micah’s reference is to the Messiah, whose “goings forth are from long ago, from the days of eternity”—a statement that could not apply to any human, since only God has existed from all eternity.
Luke wrote that Joseph … went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David which is called Bethlehem, because Bethlehem, located in Judea (southern Israel) very near Jerusalem, is higher in elevation than Nazareth, which was located in Galilee (northern Israel). Though in the Old Testament, the city of David was a title given to Mount Zion in Jerusalem, because David actually reigned there (cf. 2 Sam. 5:7–9; 1 Chron. 11:7), Luke used the term to identify the town where he was born and raised (cf. 1 Sam. 17:12, 15; 20:6). Joseph went to Bethlehem because he was of the house and family of David (1:27), in order to register for the census (see the discussion above) along with Mary. God sovereignly directed the couple to where they needed to be to fulfill Micah’s prophecy.
Some have questioned whether it was necessary for Mary to make the long (at least seventy mile) trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem, especially since she was with child. As head of the family, they argue, Joseph alone needed to register. There is, however, evidence that in Syria (the province that included Israel) women twelve years and older were subject to a poll tax (Marshall, The Gospel of Luke, 102). Thus Mary may also have been required to register. Several personal considerations may also help explain why she went to Bethlehem with Joseph. Perhaps she was uncomfortable staying behind in Nazareth where her unexpected and—humanly speaking—unexplained pregnancy was undoubtedly the subject of a good deal of gossip. Joseph certainly would not have wanted to miss the birth of the Son of God, whom the angel had told him was conceived in Mary by the Holy Spirit (Matt. 1:20–21). Finally, as devout Jews, Joseph and Mary were familiar with Micah’s prophecy and knew their child needed to be born in Bethlehem. Whatever human factors may have influenced Mary to travel to Bethlehem, ultimately she did so to fulfill God’s purpose. Leon Morris writes,
We should perhaps reflect that it was the combination of a decree by the emperor in distant Rome and the gossiping tongues of Nazareth that brought Mary to Bethlehem at just the time to fulfil the prophecy about the birthplace of the Christ (Mi. 5:2). God works through all kinds of people to effect His purposes. (The Gospel According to St. Luke, The Tyndale New Testament Commentaries [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975], 84)
Luke wrote that Mary was engaged to Joseph, while Matthew 1:24 states that Joseph had already married her. There is no contradiction between the two accounts, however. First, it must be remembered that the distinction in Jewish culture between engagement and marriage was not as clear-cut as it is today. Engagement was a legally binding contract, though the physical union was not consummated. For example, to end their engagement, as he contemplated doing after discovering that she was pregnant, Joseph would have had to divorce Mary (Matt. 1:19. Note that Matthew in that same verse refers to Joseph as Mary’s husband before they were married.) Since a covenant to be married had taken place, Matthew could properly refer to the couple as married. But since the marriage was not physically consummated until after Jesus’ birth (Matt. 1:24–25), Luke could refer to them as engaged, since they were conducting their relationship as appropriate to the betrothal period.
THE PERSONAL SETTING
While they were there, the days were completed for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. (2:6–7)
Luke described the most profoundly significant event in all of history up to that point—the birth of the God-man, Jesus Christ—in startlingly simple, straightforward, unembellished, even sparse language. While Joseph and Mary were in Bethlehem, the days were completed for her to give birth. Luke did not say how long they had been in Bethlehem, or whether they were still waiting to register, or stayed there after registering because Mary’s time to give birth was near. He gave no description of where the birth took place, except to say that it was not in the inn (see the discussion below). Luke simply said that Mary gave birth to her firstborn son. No angels appeared, as they later would to the shepherds. No heavenly trumpets rang. No voice from heaven announced the birth of the Son of God. Alone except for her young husband, far from her family and friends, in the most primitive of conditions, a young girl gave birth. Thus did the second person of the Trinity step from eternity into time and space.
Luke carefully noted that Jesus was Mary’s firstborn (prōtotokos), not her only (monogenēs) son (cf. his use of monogenēs to refer to an only child in 7:12; 8:42; 9:38). The teaching of the Roman Catholic Church that Jesus was Mary’s only child and that she remained a perpetual virgin until her death, is clearly a denial of Scripture. Matthew 1:25 says that Joseph “kept her a virgin until she gave birth to a Son” (emphasis added). That strongly implies that after Christ’s birth, they had normal marital relations. It is also revealed that Mary gave birth to other children, Jesus’ half brothers and sisters (Matt. 12:46–47; 13:55–56; John 2:12; 7:3, 5, 10; Acts 1:14). As the firstborn, Jesus had the primary right to the family inheritance (cf. Gen. 43:33; Deut. 21:15–17; 1 Chron. 5:1; 2 Chron. 21:3). Joseph was not wealthy (cf. the discussion of 2:21–24 in chapter 14 of this volume), and had no great estate to bequeath to his firstborn son. But what he did pass along was the right to the throne of Israel (Matt. 1:1–16).
As was customary, Mary wrapped her baby in cloths. Strips of fabric were used to bind a baby snugly for warmth, security, and to keep the limbs straight. The point is that Jesus was treated like any other baby. He was not dressed in royal robes but in the normal wrappings that other babies wore.
Having borne her Son and wrapped Him, Mary laid Him in a manger. The reference to a manger has given rise to the tradition that Jesus was born in a stable. The Bible nowhere states that, however. Phatnē (manger) is the word for a feeding trough. Such troughs could be found anywhere animals were kept, not only in stables. The Bible does not specifically say where Mary gave birth to Jesus although a tradition, dating back to the middle of the second century says, that it was in a cave. While that is possible, since caves were sometimes used to shelter animals, there is no way to verify it.
Wherever the couple stayed, it was not in the inn, because there was no room for them there. Part of the Christmas legend is the heartless innkeeper who turns away a young woman about to give birth. But kataluma (inn) is not the normal Greek word for an inn (pandocheion, which Luke used in 10:34), but rather a general term for a shelter, or lodging place (it is translated “guest room” in 22:11). Exactly what that lodging place was is not clear, but it may have been a public shelter or campground, perhaps a place where caravans stopped. But with the overcrowding brought about by the census, there was no room for Joseph and Mary even in such a makeshift shelter. As a result, Mary was forced to give birth in the only place available—the place where the travelers’ animals were kept.
When Jesus came into the world, He was born in the most comfortless conditions—a smelly, filthy, chilly shelter, surrounded by noisy animals. It was a fitting entrance for the “Son of Man [who had] nowhere to lay His head” (Luke 9:58); the one who “was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and the world did not know Him” (John 1:10); for the one “who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and [was]made in the likeness of men” (Phil. 2:6–7); for the “Son of Man [who] did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many” (Matt. 20:28) by bearing “our sins in His body on the cross, so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness” (1 Peter 2:24). His humble birth was appropriate for Jesus, who came to die as a substitute in the place of lowly, humble, wretched sinners. As the writer of the hymn “Ivory Palaces” put it,
Out of the ivory palaces,
Into a world of woe,
Only His great, eternal love
Made my Savior go.