Emmanuel

I wrote this last year as I reflected on the miracle of Christmas, and I thought I would repost it now. Let’s celebrate what it’s all about.

Yesterday I was listening to this song in my car and was struck by its message. I can’t remember when a song has touched me so deeply. As I listened to the words, I couldn’t believe it. Jesus – God with skin on – came here, into our sinful darkness. He left the perfection and glory of heaven to come live with us…all because of His love for us. An all-consuming love that knew no limits. A passion for us that drove Him to extravagant obedience.

All of the power and glory of heaven came to earth in a tiny baby boy. A tiny baby…..a human baby……not so very different from the one I carried and delivered less than a year ago. I wonder what He was like as a baby. When one of our friends or relatives gives birth, there is a sequence of questions that inevitably follow. I wonder those same things about the baby Jesus.

How much did He weigh? Was He a tiny one, or did He already have the rolls and folds of a healthy baby? And how long was He?

Did He have hair? Maybe just a little bit of fuzz….or maybe it was a full head of thick, dark hair.

Did His mother have to trim His tiny fingernails, to keep Him from scratching His holy face?

Did He have baby acne? Cradle cap? Diaper rash? Did his skin flake and peel as He adjusted to His new surroundings?

Did His eyes – the windows to heaven – drain and crust during His first days on the earth? Was Mary concerned?

Did He like His first bath, or did He fuss and cry until He was once again in the warmth of His mother’s arms?

Was He a good sleeper? A strong feeder?

Did He ever have bouts of colic? Gas pains? Spit up?

When did He learn to walk? Talk? Write His name?

Are these uncomfortable questions to ask about our Lord? Is it inappropriate to wonder these things about Him?

Perhaps. He is the Creator of the universe, after all. The Alpha and Omega, beginning and end. The cloud maker and wave tamer. Yahweh – the One whose name Jewish tradition holds as too sacred to be spoken by human mouths. He is the Holiest of the Holy….

….and He humbled Himself to come to earth as a baby boy. A baby boy who would have to learn to sleep through the night…feed Himself…say His name…walk on His own…

Yet that baby– the One born in a stable on a cold night in Bethlehem – was very different from other babies. His sleep brought dreams of heaven. The bread He would feed Himself would one day become a holy sacrament. The name He would learn to say was one first uttered by angels. The feet that had to learn balance would one day be pierced by nails.

Yes, that baby boy was very different. No other baby boy can be known as the Prince of Peace, the Light of the World, the bread of life, the True Vine, the Way, the Truth, and the Life. The King of Kings. The Lord of Lords. The great I AM.

No other.

And there is no other reason that we celebrate. There is no other reason that we sing. It is all for Him, that precious God-child born so long ago.