Prepare the stable of your heart to receive our Lord and Savior by listening to this special Christmas story called “The Year Baby Jesus Had Down Syndrome,” written and recorded by Joni Eareckson Tada’s radio co-host, Shauna Amick.
As you prepare the stable of your heart to receive our Lord and Savior this Christmas, take a little journey with me, won’t you? Walk past the barnyard animals, the shepherds, and even any angels standing by. And under Joseph’s watchful eye, approach the mother of God. Peek into the swaddling clothes of the babe in her arms with awe and wonder.
When Mary tenderly presents our newborn King, do you see what I see (to quote those timeless, nostalgic lyrics)? Do you see that Baby Jesus has Down syndrome?
The vision might startle you, but on a blustery winter night not too long ago, that is exactly how Jesus came to reveal Himself—not only to me, but to our entire body of Christ.
It was tradition in my small New England church that the youngest child in the congregation would be chosen for the part of Baby Jesus in that year’s nativity play. And what an honor that was! The infant thespian wasn’t capable of understanding such a special assignment, of course, but that baby’s mother certainly could. And she considered herself favored among women.
Twenty years ago, my daughter Sarah just happened to be the youngest child in our church. She was six months old that Christmas. Based upon her age and her ability to sleep through just about anything, Sarah was the perfect choice to announce Christ’s arrival.
Under different circumstances, I would have assumed Sarah’s role was guaranteed. Yet when it came time for our play’s casting call, I was on pins and needles. Sarah has Down syndrome, and I didn’t know if our church would be comfortable with the thought of Baby Jesus being played by someone with a disability.
If she was overlooked—if Sarah was rejected solely because of her facial features—would I be able to contain myself? Would my broken heart feel the sting of discrimination and drag me into a pit of depression? Or would my Mama Bear instincts kick in, tempting me to advocate for my child in a way that might not be considered Christ-like? Either way, I feared myself.
Of all the Christmas plays I’ve seen up to and since that time, there’s never been a disabled child representing Jesus. But on that night—on that silent night—I learned I had nothing to fear.
Our pastor approached me, asking if I’d allow Sarah to take the starring role in our Christmas production. And a floodgate of emotion burst open in my heart. “Who am I, Sovereign Lord, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?” (2 Samuel 7:18)
Those first six months of Sarah’s life were riddled with disappointments—relentless medical complications and their accompanying financial strains, condolences from friends, looks of disdain from strangers, unanswered questions, unanswered prayers. On days when shame threatened to break my back, I’d petition God: Show me your glory, Lord. Speak to me. Come into the mess of my life and reveal yourself in new and powerful ways. I can’t do this without you…
My pastor knew the Word of God and knew what it has to say about people with disabilities. He knew that Sarah, like all of us, was made in the image of God. Down syndrome and all.
“So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” Genesis 1:27
An extra chromosome didn’t negate the fact that Sarah has been fearfully and wonderfully made. And it certainly wasn’t going to prevent her from fulfilling the divine assignment placed on her life. At six months old, Sarah’s heavenly purpose involved showing the world the truth about Jesus.
On the night of His birth, Jesus chose to come into the mess of our lives as Emmanuel, God with us. He decided to reveal Himself in a new and powerful way—as the most humble and the most vulnerable among us. By taking on human form, our Savior encouraged even the least of these to come to Him for grace and mercy. And He did so not as a high-powered ruler, but as a lowly babe completely dependent upon others.
The similarities between newborn Jesus and six-month-old Sarah were striking. God showed the world His glory in helplessness. And He taught us that strength really does come in quietness and trust.
“Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.” 1 Corinthians 1:26-29
On that holy night when the story of His birth was reenacted once again in a little New England church, Christ’s power was put on display through the weakest member of our congregation. Without saying a word, Sarah reminded us that Jesus didn’t come just for the wealthiest and most accomplished. Jesus came down to earth for all of humanity—unveiling His splendor for those who have eyes to see.
Jesus, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to His own advantage—rather, He made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness (Philippians 2:6-7). He humbled Himself, disabling His celestial might and pouring Himself into baby flesh. And He did all this for us—for you and for me—to offer us forgiveness for the past and bright hope for the future.
“The God who overflows the universe touched down on this chaotic, fragile, and noisy planet,” says Joni Eareckson Tada. “You can hear His delicate Christmas footsteps if you purpose to stop, look, listen, and be still.” Jesus came as the most vulnerable for the most vulnerable.
I held these supernatural revelations in my arms all those Christmases ago. And I still see Jesus when I look at Sarah today. She sparkles with wide-eyed wonder when she’s lighting our Advent wreath’s Christ Candle. Sarah’s non-verbal witness reminds everyone that our Savior’s birth—His life, death, and resurrection—purchased our freedom from the captivity of sin.
This Christmas, stare deeply into the face of that newborn babe sleeping in Mary’s arms. See Him with new eyes and believe.
“An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Luke 2:9-12
Are fears of the future preventing you from embracing the joy of Jesus this season? Is discouragement keeping you from opening your heart and seeing all that God has to show you? What would it take for you to get fully engaged in adoring our Savior and seeing His power shine through weakness? And what will you do to ensure that you don’t miss the signs of His presence in your life?
© Joni and Friends