6 For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
7 Of the increase of his government and of peace
there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.
Isaiah 9:6–7 (ESV)
31 What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 33 Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. 34 Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? 36 As it is written,
“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”
37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:31–39 (ESV): God’s Everlasting Love
“The infinite mercy of the almighty God comes to us, descends to us in the form of a child, his Son. That this child is born for us, this son is given to us, that this human child and Son of God belongs to me, that I know him, have him, love him, that I am his and he is mine – on this alone my life now depends. A child has our life in his hands…”
“How shall we deal with such a child? Have our hands, soiled with daily toil, become too hard and too proud to fold in prayer at the sight of this child? Has our head become too full of serious thoughts…that we cannot bow our head in humility at the wonder of this child? Can we not forget all our stress and struggles, our sense of importance, and for once worship the child, as did the shepherds and the wise men form the East, bowing before the divine child in the manger like children?”
Bonhoeffer, Dietrich, and Jana Riess. God Is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas. Westminster John Knox Press, 2012.
This tiny life in my hands…
The thought hit me even as the smell of the fresh hay assaulted my nose. I am thankful that the stable hands had done their job well before retiring from the evening. At least there is that. If we must lay our heads here tonight, at least it is as clean as a stable could be. Shaking my head, I press the momentary ingratitude from me. Thankfulness immediately welled in its place and my heart was filled with it. I recalled the desperation I felt just hours ago when we had been unable to find lodging anywhere in the city. It had been gut wrenching. Mary was in pain. She was tired. She NEEDED a place to rest. The baby was due anytime. It hadn’t been long after settling down here that her time had come. I remembered praying fervently for YHWH to provide a place. I knew He would provide, but my flesh was fearful of having to spend the night in the cold. I wrestled with the tension between faith and fear. My desperation must have emanated from me. That poor innkeeper. A smile broke on my face even now as I thought of it. How many had he turned away? How many had he told no? But that look in his eye, that look on his face when I pleaded for something, anything! And then, when he saw Mary…
Her labor had been quick, a blessing I was immensely thankful for. Exhausted as she was, I feared she might not survive a longer ordeal. YHWH had promised the Messiah to be born through her. No promise existed that she needed to survive beyond the birthing process. AH, but this is just my overprotective fear. Why would I think that YHWH would not also protect her in the process? The Messiah would need his mother! And of course, my fleshly fears were ungrounded. Mary and Jesus had come through the ordeal with beautiful ease!
Holding the child now, I pause in the pacing I had been doing. Glancing back, I glimpse her face as she rests in the hay.
What a night! What a night!
Suddenly overwhelmed, I resumed my pacing.
Looking down at his face as I paced, that tension between faith and fear resurged. Who was I to help raise the Messiah!?!?
My thoughts raced, each one coming rapidly, tripping over one another as they did.
The Messiah!!! The Son of God!! In MY arms!
Born in a stable! Sleeping in hay!
Virgin conception! The wonder of that still as fresh now as it had been 9 months prior.
The trip to Bethlehem, oh how hard and laborious it had been! Caesar and his stupid census!
Oh, but the shepherds! The shepherds! What a visit that had been! This very night! They came with awe and wonder! They came with stories of angels and a message heralded. They came with praising and worshipping! Their words filled us both with awe and wonder. YHWH, what a glory and wonder You are! And when they left, they left overjoyed and excitedly heralding the news to anyone who would listen to them!
The Messiah had come!
The Son of God was here!
God Himself!
And through us?!?!
How am I supposed to raise the Son of God? Me?
Wait…
Again, I pause suddenly in my pacing…
This tiny baby, this helpless infant…
He holds all the hopes and promises that I have looked to for my entire life. He holds the hope of my future. He holds the hopes for all eternity. Everything hangs on this child. Everything.
Instinctively, I cradle him a little tighter, drawing him closer to my chest now. He stirs slightly, snuggling in my arms, tucking himself into my breast.
I suddenly feel small, so minute before this tender child in my arms. How? How is it that I can suddenly feel so inconceivably small before this child, feel so much awe and wonder, such reverence, while at the same time feeling so overly protective of this one who came to save and protect me?
Tears sprang into my eyes, unbidden now. Tears of wonder, tears of joy, tears of amazement that such a gift would come to Mary and me.
Glancing back at Mary again, I watched her sleep in the hay through the blur of tears. Cradling Jesus in my left arm, I used my right sleeve to wipe the tears from my eyes, clearing my vision. I watched Mary rest, overcome by love for her, by love for YHWH, by love for the Messiah now cradled in my arms. I gazed back to his face then, my eyes felt glued to him.
The Messiah!
And we are his parents. We are supposed to raise Him.
Raise him? RAISE Him?
How?
The sudden weight and burden felt too much. I began to tremble slightly as once again, the reality of it struck me. I had felt this many times since the angel’s first appearance in my dream. But holding him now, cradling him in my arms, it felt even more real.
I replayed the angel’s message in my dream. I remembered the initial rush of fear and terror in my gut…similar to what I now felt. But as I recalled his message, the fear and terror were replaced by a peace as his message from God was delivered to me. Recalling the message now, that same peace flooded over me. A stillness settling on my being.
How am I to raised the Messiah?
With the help of my YHWH, my El Shaddai of course. We don’t do this alone. The hopes of the future do not depend upon me. They depend upon the Son of God I am holding. And he came with the backing of heaven. He came with all the resources of heaven at his disposal. No matter the future, no matter how challenging this task, this baby boy’s very presence is all the hope and assurance I need that everything will be ok.
My God has come near.
With words of passion and strength, I lower my head to his face and I whisper, “I place all on my hope on you, baby boy. I will trust in You. You have my heart and my allegiance. I will do my best to serve You as the king and lord You are.”
Peace settled even more deeply into my heart then. Quietly, I returned to where Mary lay. Still cradling Jesus in my arms, I lay next to her in the hay and joined her in rest. Together, we rested with the Savior of the world between us.
A Singular Passion 