Words of Reflection
When you read the story of Jesus’ nativity in Luke’s gospel, it would be easy to miss just how monumental this particular birth actually is, because Luke uses such matter-of-fact language to describe it:
“While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no place in the guest room.”
—Luke 2:6-7 (NRSVUE)
There is nothing earth-shattering about the language Luke uses here, and yet the event he describes in these two verses is the most monumental event that human history had known up until that point. Luke the physician gives no grand language to the event, he describes it as he would any other birth. But, of course, this is no ordinary arrival. The angel Gabriel has made that clear, and the shepherds are just about to discover that same truth—that God has sent his own Son to us, that the firstborn of all creation is now a firstborn son wrapped in cloth and lying in a food trough.
As we approach Bethlehem in our Advent journey, part of what we’re invited to hold in our hearts is the seeming contradiction of the incarnation. How can God become man? How can the eternal, divine one become a time-bound mortal? And how can we begin to comprehend the reason he has come—to take away our sin and reconcile us to God?
Years ago the Christian poet Luci Shaw, reflecting on the Incarnation, penned these words in a poem called “Mary’s Song”:
Blue homespun and the bend of my breast
Keep warm this small hot naked star
Fallen to my arms. (Rest…
You who have had so far to come.)
Now nearness satisfies the body of God sweetly. Quiet he lies
Whose vigor hurled a universe. He sleeps
Whose eyelids have not closed before.
His breath (so slight it seems
No breath at all) once ruffled the dark deeps
To sprout a world. Charmed by doves’ voices,
The whisper of straw, he dreams,
Hearing no music from his other spheres.
Breath, mouth, ears, eyes,
He is curtailed who overflowed all skies,
All years. Older than eternity, now he is new.
Now native to earth as I am, nailed to my poor planet, caught
That I might be free, blind in my womb
To know my darkness ended,
Brought to this birth for me to be new-born,
And for him to see me mended,
I must see him torn.
When we face questions too deep to fully comprehend, we need the gift of poets. They find the words that often fail us. In this work Shaw gently invites us, in Mary’s voice, to consider the dual nature of the child she holds to her breast. And not only does she hold the tension of the incarnation in her words, she also holds the tension that comes from knowing what will happen to this child when he reaches adulthood:
And for him to see me mended,
I must see him torn
This is our advent journey—to come to the stable and gaze upon the Incarnate One, the One who has come to transform and restore us.
Come to Bethlehem and behold the God made man…who will make us whole.
Come to Bethlehem and behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.
Scripture for Meditation:
“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
—John 3:17 (NRSVUE)
“But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.”
—Ephesians 2:4-7 (NRSVUE)
Song: Behold the Lamb of God (lyrics here)
Questions for Contemplation:
What helps you sit with the mystery of the Incarnation as you make your Advent journey? Are there Scripture passages, carols, songs, or other tools that have been helpful for you? How can you be intentional about dwelling in that mystery in the coming days as Christmas approaches?
Spend some time reading the poem “Mary’s Song” slowly and prayerfully. What words or phrases catch your attention? Why? Do you find yourself resisting any of the words or descriptions she uses? Pay attention to that, because the Spirit can even use moments that provoke us for our growth.
Andrew Peterson’s song invites us to consider the death and resurrection of Jesus even as we celebrate the birth of Jesus. It is not an easy thing to do. Spend some time reflecting on this invitation and offer your response to God in prayer.