Birth is a miracle, all by itself. Ask any parent who has experienced the climactic moment of seeing a new person emerge into the world after nine months of waiting.

But this wasn't just a normal birth. It was one that was punctuated by both the invasion of heavenly armies and the stench and filth of a barnyard. It was the lowest of lows and the Most High. It was the triumph of the skies that was largely unnoticed. 

It was a special night, to be sure. And you can't help but think that when all of the craziness quieted down, all of the people present that night in Bethlehem took a deep breath and tried to process all they had witnessed. 

And that processing probably began with one very big question: What child is this?

Even Mary and Joseph, who had the kind of direct line of communication to God's will many of us desperately desire, had to be asking that question, too, now that the baby was here.

What child is this?

You see, the circumstances surrounding this child were certainly miraculous and massive. But that's all external fanfare. Who, really, is this baby sleeping in a filthy livestock feeding trough? 

Even asking the question had to feel a little scary. The unknown--the Eternal invading our world--always comes with a healthy helping of holy terror.

And the truth is, the answer to that question only could come in the form of prophecies at that point. As Jesus' life unfolded over the next 33 years, that question was answered. His life and His mission made the ruckus of that strange night in Bethlehem seem tame by comparison.

William Chatterton Dix--the English hymn writer who penned the carol "What Child Is This?"--knew that as fantastical as Jesus' birth was, it would be incomplete without His finished work on the Cross. 

When Dix went through a near-death experience, it wasn't Jesus' incredible birth that he reflected upon. It was His resurrection--His promise of new life and victory over the grave.

The second chorus of his carol--which often isn't sung nowadays--ties Christmas to Easter perfectly, giving context to both: "Nails, spear shall pierce Him through, the cross be borne for me, for you. Hail, hail the Word made flesh, the Babe, the Son of Mary." 

You see, Christmas needs Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

What child is this? He was full of the majesty and mystery of the Creator, tasked with the greatest rescue plan of all time, and a great deal of suffering, too. All of that would come in time, but in that stable, that night, the baby was a great and awesome mystery.

The question of this song is one that we must ask: Who is this child to us? Why was this son given? May our answer always be, "This, this is Christ the King"--a revelation that demands worship.

"So bring him incense, gold and myrrh. Come peasant, king, to own him. The King of Kings salvation brings. Let loving hearts enthrone Him."

What child is this? He's God in the flesh. He is ours, and we are His.