One of the greatest scandals about Jesus of Nazareth was how understated and unimpressive he was. By design.
The scripture says he “did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped,” and that plays out in full force from the very beginning, starting with the Christmas story.
One would think such an anticipated, prophesied, spectacular event - the incarnation of the living God - would be a more stately affair. But it was the furthest thing from it.
The birth of Christ takes place in a backwater town, through an unwed teenage virgin of no social status, in something that would more closely resemble a cave than the “Manger, by Magnolia” displays we’ve become so accustomed to seeing over the years. The first visitors of the king of kings were local shepherds, and one of his first birthday presents was myrrh - something used to embalm a dead body.
Unimpressive by every measure. How come?
“Even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
- Mark 10:45
Jesus enters the world to be a servant. And so like a servant, he entered the world. And from unimpressive origins, then through unimpressive places, and with unimpressive people, he did things so “impressive” that 2000 years later we still sing, “Oh come, let us adore him.”
If “something good can come from Nazareth,” even the greatest thing, then that means it can come from anywhere. And if such low places were good enough to claim God himself as a resident, then there is no place undeserving our own attention and resources.
For city builders of all kinds, that poses a question: What if a cities-for-people revolution came not through triage and focus only on our most high-status, people-friendly cities, but through investment in and love of the most ordinary and unimpressive places we have?
What if the most plain, lifeless, sprawling suburbs and the most understated, uninspiring small towns actually hold the key to a more human-centered future?
There’s a sense of daring hope that’s required to take on the places treated by most as “too far gone” - an almost-scandalous belief that such a place can be restored to something better, but should be. This very belief makes up the true idea and essence of Christmas spirit.
A better built environment is hardly the “true meaning of Christmas.” But in a culture known for “going big” this time of year, there’s something to be said for going small. For showing favor toward the unimpressive. To seeing incredible things be birthed out of the most ordinary places.
If it was good enough for him, it’s good enough for us.