As I glanced at my daughter’s nativity figurines this past Christmas, they all looked perfect — the cow was probably the cleanest, most good-looking depiction of a bovine. Next to the cow, the sheep looked happy, the camels stood tall, and a long-eared donkey completed the cast of animals. The shepherds had assorted clothes, and Mary and Joseph did not look tired at all. Baby Jesus lay on top of a hay mattress in a very comfortable-looking manger made of wood. Higher than the rest of the characters, a beautiful angel was visibly overseeing the whole event. It looked warm, festive and almost inviting. And somewhat wrong.

In reality, the smell must have been awful, the animals dirty, the stable dark and cold and Mary and Joseph exhausted. The mangers were not made out of wood but out of stone, and the hay lying on top must have felt like an insufficient replacement for a proper, soft bed meant to protect a newborn. It was not even close to the perfect setting for a birth. Nothing about it expressed the idea of a special event; quite the opposite. And yet, Jesus left heaven and was born there anyway. He received no fame, no honor, no comfort, but a smelly, dirty, hard manger.

If we look at the scene, it makes no sense until we dig deeper. Did you know that the only time the manger is mentioned is when Jesus’ birth story is being told to shepherds? Do you know why? They knew what it meant. Bethlehem was well known for its perfect lambs used for the sacrifice. Whenever an unblemished lamb was born, it was wrapped in a cloth and placed in a manger designed not for comfort but for protection and safety. The perfect Lamb was now wrapped in a cloth, lying in a manger, and the shepherds received the news with great joy and enthusiasm as they understood the connection and the metaphor.

Jesus left heaven, perfection, glory, and peace to be born in a humble stable and placed in a stone manger as the perfect Lamb of God, the world’s only chance of salvation, the Sacrifice. He was the first Missionary to leave comfort for a life of self-denial on behalf of others.

Now, each Christmas season, whenever you see the visual representation of the birth of Jesus, remember that back then, it didn’t look pretty. All heaven stood in wonder, watching the Son of God become a poor refugee, a homeless child, born into the humblest circumstances, but with the divine mission of saving the souls of those who believe in Him. His mission was accomplished through the world’s greatest miracle: the birth, the life, the death and the resurrection of the perfect Lamb.

It may not look pretty today, either. It might smell bad, involve getting your hands dirty, and stepping out of your comfort zone. But it will culminate in eternal life for you and those who will hear through you. Will you also be a missionary, a job modeled by the Son of God?

The only piece missing from the nativity scene is you . . . and the opportunity for everyone to receive the chance to believe. Romans 10:14-15 asks us, “How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher? and how shall they preach, except they be sent? even as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that bring glad tidings of good things!” Would you consider being the means by which they hear: the one who sends a preacher or goes to preach? It’s a new year. Say, “Yes!”

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