American Irony

The Christmas story begins with a young girl, pregnant and not yet married. Her fiancé is looking for an out because she’s bearing another dude’s baby. He loves her but understands the scandal of raising a bastard child. People in their small town talk in whispers; rumors spread faster than urgent news. So the teen mom leaves home and visits a distant relative and stays with her for a few months while the gossip back home dies down. She and her fiancé soon marry but they do so quietly, avoiding the big celebration they had originally planned. The baby is born in the most unglamorous setting to be raised by his stepfather.

Can you imagine the mix of emotions Mary feels? She’s been looking forward to her wedding, but she never imagined it would be like this. Excited to be a mother, but this isn’t what she had panned. She barely gave consent, but how could she have said no to an angel considering the circumstances. How do you even raise the son of God? Most new parents are worried about the mistakes they’ll make. The pressure Mary felt to succeed would have been unbearable, especially for someone so young.

Fast forward a couple millennia. Imagine how the modern American evangelical would treat someone in the same situation: a pregnant teenager, she’s got a boyfriend but the baby isn’t his. How welcoming would the church be? In my experience, Christians have not always been as loving as we should be.

I’ve seen churches turn away rape victims for their indiscretions. I’ve seen pastors blame women for the violence committed against them. Purity culture told women they deserved it because of their immodest fashion choices, and that’s if their claims are even believed. Too many Christian folk are quick to doubt women who make accusations of rape, assault, and harassment – especially if the perpetrator was a member of the church staff, a pastor, an elder, or a deacon.

In my experience, teen moms have struggled to find safe haven in churches. I’ve seen pastors call children of single moms a consequence of their sin. I’ve seen girls removed from volunteer positions in church because they got pregnant out of wedlock. I’ve sat through Sunday school lessons and youth group devotionals demanding abstinence, and watched as youth leaders ignore the needs of kids who didn’t follow their advice. Too often, pregnant teens and single moms are either an object of scorn or of pity inside American churches.

I’ve heard slanderous labels like slut and whore lobbied at girls who became pregnant at young ages while the boys involved in making those babies never endure the same level or ridicule and rarely face any consequences. While never spoken out loud, the attitude I’ve observed in most churches is “boys will be boys and girls should know better.”

This is the irony of Christmas in America: we reject those made in the image of the One we believe breathed life into our entire universe. We mock the single pregnant teenager while worshiping the offspring of another single pregnant teenager. We alienate heroes raising illegitimate kids while our savior was the step-son of a humble carpenter.

Our nation is imprisoning immigrants and refugees on the southern border at unprecedented rates, separating children from their parents, and caging them in dismal quarters. Of the people I hear applauding this inhumane immigration policy, most have claimed to be followers of Jesus. They forget how Joseph and Mary once fled to Egypt with Jesus, themselves becoming refugees in a foreign land.

Dear church, what the hell are we doing?

To affirm the beauty, strength, and resolve of the Christmas story, we must treat the young women in our community who suddenly find themselves alone on the threshold of motherhood with the same dignity and respect we bestow upon Mary, the mother of God. From the women bringing their babies across the Rio Grande to avoid the gang violence in Honduras, to the Muslim girl escaping war in Syria, to the teenager assaulted by the pastor’s son, to the college kid who wasn’t careful.

What if we loved these vulnerable young women the same way Jesus loved his mom? What if we validated their humanity and their fears with encouragement and acceptance? What if we told them “You are blessed and so is your child,” the same words Elizabeth spoke to Mary? Could we inspire an entire generation of mothers to sing like Mary?

Maybe then we could see God do what Mary promised: “He has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.”

What a wonderful world it could be.

Amen and merry Christmas.