Toddler Jesus

Peggy Haymes

3 min readDec 27, 2021

At this point, the whole feeding thing is starting to feel less awkward and more natural. Joseph can hold his tiny son with a little less fear that the child will break. They’re settling into a new routine where days and nights run together and the only marker of time is sleep/no sleep.

Mary pats his back to coax a burp from him, and cleans Jesus up after he’s relieved himself. Jesus can do absolutely nothing on his own.

We tend to skip over this part of the story. We rush the astrologers in on the heels of the shepherds. The next thing we know he’s an infant being welcomed in the Temple, and then the next thing we know he’s more than half grown, worrying his momma and daddy to death.

But he was a baby, a real baby who got hungry in the middle of the night, who couldn’t hold his head up and had to discover the wonder of his hands.

He has to learn to walk, occasionally falling down and skinning a knee. The Word become flesh has to learn language the way any child does, by listening and imitating and building the brain connections.

Jesus was a toddler, and had to learn the meaning of “no” and how to respect boundaries.

Anything less, and the incarnation is just play-acting.

For me, one of the most astounding lines from a Christmas hymn is, “God with us is now residing.” It’s a wonder that we can sing it without falling to our knees in astonishment.

God is with us.

Not just appearing as a spirit. Not just slumming in human guise. God became human like us, with all of our limitations. Jesus couldn’t just fly from one place to the next, just blink his eyes and appear. He had to walk there or take a boat.

Just like us.

Sometimes Jesus got tired and sometimes he got weary with all of the constant demands. Sometimes he needed just to take a break and get away from it for a whale.

Just like us.

Sometimes Jesus got hungry and sometimes he was thirsty and sometimes he was so frustrated with his friends that he could hardly stand it.

Just like us.

This week I’ve seen a few memes and posts that say, to effect, “Yeah, this Christmas stuff is good but what we really need to remember and think about is Good Friday.”

No. Just no.

When we demand that the focus of God’s great gift of love be Jesus’ death, we lose sight of the fact that the first great gift was his life.

There is nothing that we face in this life that God does not know from the inside out. For the sake of love, the God of all time, who created all there is became a particular infant in a particular time. God took the time to grow up.

God knew that for us to get the clearest picture of who God is, God had to become as we are. God knew that we needed stories and touch and seeing God’s crazy kingdom lived out.

But there’s more.

The Word became flesh, and in the incarnation, we are reminded that even our ordinary flesh is holy.

Through the incarnation, we are reminded that even our common lives are sacred.

In the squeals of a helpless baby, we hear God’s song of love.

For us.

Amen

Toddler Jesus

At this point, the whole feeding thing is starting to feel less awkward and more natural. Joseph can hold his tiny son with a little less fear that the child will break. They’re settling into a new routine where days and nights run together and the only marker of time is sleep/no sleep.

Mary pats his back to coax a burp from him, and cleans Jesus up after he’s relieved himself. Jesus can do absolutely nothing on his own.

We tend to skip over this part of the story. We rush the astrologers in on the heels of the shepherds. The next thing we know he’s an infant being welcomed in the Temple, and then the next thing we know he’s more than half grown, worrying his momma and daddy to death.

But he was a baby, a real baby who got hungry in the middle of the night, who couldn’t hold his head up and had to discover the wonder of his hands.

He has to learn to walk, occasionally falling down and skinning a knee. The Word become flesh has to learn language the way any child does, by listening and imitating and building the brain connections.

Jesus was a toddler, and had to learn the meaning of “no” and how to respect boundaries.

Anything less, and the incarnation is just play-acting.

For me, one of the most astounding lines from a Christmas hymn is, “God with us is now residing.” It’s a wonder that we can sing it without falling to our knees in astonishment.

God is with us.

Not just appearing as a spirit. Not just slumming in human guise. God became human like us, with all of our limitations. Jesus couldn’t just fly from one place to the next, just blink his eyes and appear. He had to walk there or take a boat.

Just like us.

Sometimes Jesus got tired and sometimes he got weary with all of the constant demands. Sometimes he needed just to take a break and get away from it for a whale.

Just like us.

Sometimes Jesus got hungry and sometimes he was thirsty and sometimes he was so frustrated with his friends that he could hardly stand it.

Just like us.

This week I’ve seen a few memes and posts that say, to effect, “Yeah, this Christmas stuff is good but what we really need to remember and think about is Good Friday.”

No. Just no.

When we demand that the focus of God’s great gift of love be Jesus’ death, we lose sight of the fact that the first great gift was his life.

There is nothing that we face in this life that God does not know from the inside out. For the sake of love, the God of all time, who created all there is became a particular infant in a particular time. God took the time to grow up.

God knew that for us to get the clearest picture of who God is, God had to become as we are. God knew that we needed stories and touch and seeing God’s crazy kingdom lived out.

But there’s more.

The Word became flesh, and in the incarnation, we are reminded that even our ordinary flesh is holy.

Through the incarnation, we are reminded that even our common lives are sacred.

In the squeals of a helpless baby, we hear God’s song of love.

For us.

Amen

Written by Peggy Haymes