Untethered by time, God sees us all. From the backwoods of Virginia to the business districts of London; from the Vikings to the astronauts, from the cave-dwellers to kings, from the hut-builders to the finger-pointers to the rock-stackers, he sees us.
Vagabonds and ragamuffins all, he saw us before we were born.
And he loves what he sees. Flooded by emotions. Overcome by pride, the Starmaker turns to us, one by one, and says, “You are my child. I love you dearly. I’m aware that someday you’ll turn from me and walk away. But I want you to know, I’ve already provided a way back.”
And to prove it, he’d did something extraordinary.
Stepping from the throne, he removed his robe of light and wrapped himself in skin: pigmented, Human skin. The light of the universe entered a dark, wet womb. He whom whom angels worship nestled himself in the placenta of a peasant, was birthed into the cold night, and then slept on cow’s hay.
Mary didn’t know whether to give him milk or give him praise, but she gave him both since he was, as near as she could figure, hungry and holy.
Joseph didn’t know whether to call him Junior or Father. But in the end called him Jesus, since that’s what the angel had said and since he didn’t have the faintest idea what to name a God he
could cradle in his arms.
....Don’t you think.....their heads tilted and their minds wondered, “What in the world are you doing God?” Or better phrased, “God, what are you doing in the world?”
“Can anything make me stop loving you?” God asked. “Watch me speak your language, sleep on your earth, and feel your hurts. Behold the maker of sight and sound as he sneezes, coughs
and blows his nose. You wonder if I understand how you feel? Look into the dancing eyes of the kid in Nazareth; that’s God walking to school. Ponder the toddler at Mary’s table; that’s God
spilling his milk.
“You wonder how long my love will last? Find your answer on a splintered cross, on a craggy hill. That’s me you see up there, your maker, your God, nail-stabbed and bleeding. Covered in spit
and sin-soaked.
“THAT’S YOUR SIN I’M FEELING. THAT’S YOUR DEATH I’M DYING. THAT’S YOUR RESURRECTION
I’M LIVING. THAT’S HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU.”
Vagabonds and ragamuffins all, he saw us before we were born.
And he loves what he sees. Flooded by emotions. Overcome by pride, the Starmaker turns to us, one by one, and says, “You are my child. I love you dearly. I’m aware that someday you’ll turn from me and walk away. But I want you to know, I’ve already provided a way back.”
And to prove it, he’d did something extraordinary.
Stepping from the throne, he removed his robe of light and wrapped himself in skin: pigmented, Human skin. The light of the universe entered a dark, wet womb. He whom whom angels worship nestled himself in the placenta of a peasant, was birthed into the cold night, and then slept on cow’s hay.
Mary didn’t know whether to give him milk or give him praise, but she gave him both since he was, as near as she could figure, hungry and holy.
Joseph didn’t know whether to call him Junior or Father. But in the end called him Jesus, since that’s what the angel had said and since he didn’t have the faintest idea what to name a God he
could cradle in his arms.
....Don’t you think.....their heads tilted and their minds wondered, “What in the world are you doing God?” Or better phrased, “God, what are you doing in the world?”
“Can anything make me stop loving you?” God asked. “Watch me speak your language, sleep on your earth, and feel your hurts. Behold the maker of sight and sound as he sneezes, coughs
and blows his nose. You wonder if I understand how you feel? Look into the dancing eyes of the kid in Nazareth; that’s God walking to school. Ponder the toddler at Mary’s table; that’s God
spilling his milk.
“You wonder how long my love will last? Find your answer on a splintered cross, on a craggy hill. That’s me you see up there, your maker, your God, nail-stabbed and bleeding. Covered in spit
and sin-soaked.
“THAT’S YOUR SIN I’M FEELING. THAT’S YOUR DEATH I’M DYING. THAT’S YOUR RESURRECTION
I’M LIVING. THAT’S HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU.”
Melanie HerrTaken from The Glory of Christmas by Max Lucas in The Gift of Grace
