StriperAddict
Senior Member
This is a scene of love none of us can yet fully grasp. We can only quietly listen in and imagine. “Are you ready Son?” Long pauses. “Father, I am ready if you are.” “Son, you know I am terrified letting you go from here. Knowing what is about to be released. Life for so many. But I am risking You. Even we cannot yet experience what is coming up until it happens. Will I never know You again in the same way? You will suffer so. For so long. You will love with such beauty. God finally and actively showing Our face to mankind. ...But then, Golgotha...How does a Father willingly let His Son enter this?” “Father, is there any possible other way to free them?” “Son, you and I both know there isn’t. How desperately I want there to be.” “Then Father, I am ready. You know My love. It will stay intact through any loss, any horror. No matter how far I am from you, I will be able to somehow know Your presence. You will know how, when and where to find me. Your love is that powerful, that good. Oh, how I love You.” More silence. Both nod gently and loosen their hold on each other.
Then it happens. The most important millisecond in our history, as heaven invades the darkness of this singularly sacred and beloved planet. The One who will later describe Himself as “gentle and humble.” And silently, unnoticed, Jesus leaves the expanses of heaven for a womb. A dark and confined womb, on a dying planet. The timelessly Eternal enters time. Our time. The Son will become also son. No one can imagine what it was like for Jesus to carry intact His full Deity, now subsumed to the limitations of an unborn child. And then, months later, a fragile, crying, sputtering, helpless, baby. In all ways God; in all possible ways, like us. Angels hold their breath.
And then, to this Holy Night. Holy because the Holy One shattered the scene and transformed the entire play. The night when prophecies could finally make sense. The darkest week of the year would now forever be marked by the greatest Light.
We know no greater love than Jesus allowing His life to be taken. But there too is no greater love than this Father allowing His Son’s life to begin amongst us.
Mary knew. She knew who she was holding. A child of Adam holding the final Adam. How could a teenager exhibit such poise, trust, protection, strength and clarity? She knows she is created for this moment.
Months before, this beautiful-hearted woman reveals her readiness. “My soul exalts the Lord. And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.”
There was little attractive or idyllic in this scene. Only Mary was certain what was happening. Maybe there was a lantern. And cloths, but no doctors or helpers. Just a clumsy, dangerous delivery by a very frightened and untrained father.
Mary carefully holds this shivering, newest child on earth.
The One who would one day suffer some version of eternal separation for our wrongs and hers, is now unable to move His head without her. Jesus has chosen first helplessness before He can save the world. On this night a young woman alone can help; holding the Hope of the world in her arms.
How could the very Son of God exhibit such humility, to willingly subject Himself to this limitation, restriction, and frightening inability? To subordinate Himself to such, such, humanness.
All of this has compelled us to love Him.
“Jesus, I love you. I was wandering to the far edge of the script and you came out, alone, into howling darkness and cold to find me. Not with coercion or force, but with only vulnerable love. You didn’t need me. But you saw me. From eternity, before this whole transaction took place. Before the Son became also son. You saw me jeering and mocking in the crowd. But you saw how frightened and alone I was. A crying child. So, you held me. No one had ever known me, known how I needed to be loved. And in the time it took you to come into our world, I believed.
And now my name is Christ in me. I am whole, alive, free, bright, assured, loved, known, part of, forgiven, adored, new, certain, important, at peace, able to give, able to love and represent You. How can it be that Love came this far?
Father, in seeing our helplessness, you let Him come to us. Thank you. You found us worth the most horrendous cost. We have no more words. Only this. We are no longer afraid. We receive Your love.”
...Merry, merry Christmas, dear friends.
From FB post, brother John Lynch
Then it happens. The most important millisecond in our history, as heaven invades the darkness of this singularly sacred and beloved planet. The One who will later describe Himself as “gentle and humble.” And silently, unnoticed, Jesus leaves the expanses of heaven for a womb. A dark and confined womb, on a dying planet. The timelessly Eternal enters time. Our time. The Son will become also son. No one can imagine what it was like for Jesus to carry intact His full Deity, now subsumed to the limitations of an unborn child. And then, months later, a fragile, crying, sputtering, helpless, baby. In all ways God; in all possible ways, like us. Angels hold their breath.
And then, to this Holy Night. Holy because the Holy One shattered the scene and transformed the entire play. The night when prophecies could finally make sense. The darkest week of the year would now forever be marked by the greatest Light.
We know no greater love than Jesus allowing His life to be taken. But there too is no greater love than this Father allowing His Son’s life to begin amongst us.
Mary knew. She knew who she was holding. A child of Adam holding the final Adam. How could a teenager exhibit such poise, trust, protection, strength and clarity? She knows she is created for this moment.
Months before, this beautiful-hearted woman reveals her readiness. “My soul exalts the Lord. And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.”
There was little attractive or idyllic in this scene. Only Mary was certain what was happening. Maybe there was a lantern. And cloths, but no doctors or helpers. Just a clumsy, dangerous delivery by a very frightened and untrained father.
Mary carefully holds this shivering, newest child on earth.
The One who would one day suffer some version of eternal separation for our wrongs and hers, is now unable to move His head without her. Jesus has chosen first helplessness before He can save the world. On this night a young woman alone can help; holding the Hope of the world in her arms.
How could the very Son of God exhibit such humility, to willingly subject Himself to this limitation, restriction, and frightening inability? To subordinate Himself to such, such, humanness.
All of this has compelled us to love Him.
“Jesus, I love you. I was wandering to the far edge of the script and you came out, alone, into howling darkness and cold to find me. Not with coercion or force, but with only vulnerable love. You didn’t need me. But you saw me. From eternity, before this whole transaction took place. Before the Son became also son. You saw me jeering and mocking in the crowd. But you saw how frightened and alone I was. A crying child. So, you held me. No one had ever known me, known how I needed to be loved. And in the time it took you to come into our world, I believed.
And now my name is Christ in me. I am whole, alive, free, bright, assured, loved, known, part of, forgiven, adored, new, certain, important, at peace, able to give, able to love and represent You. How can it be that Love came this far?
Father, in seeing our helplessness, you let Him come to us. Thank you. You found us worth the most horrendous cost. We have no more words. Only this. We are no longer afraid. We receive Your love.”
...Merry, merry Christmas, dear friends.
From FB post, brother John Lynch
