Sunday, December 25, 2011

On the Word Becoming Flesh

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. --John 1:14

This Christmas, I'm thinking about the Word becoming flesh.

Nativity
photo credit: Jeff Weese

And did the angels deem the incarnation plan ludicrous?

God in seven or eight pounds? Wrinkled flesh and floppy head? A completely dependent baby? Is this the message for the shepherds?

Isn't the announcement supposed to read: today in the town of David a Savior sits on a throne? Arrives in flashy cape? Rides a conquering white horse? Leads a massive social revolution against the powers-that-be? Surely these earth entries are more fitting for God Almighty.

Surely the line can't be Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord (Luke 2:11)?

So God's going as a wee little thing, hey? He's going to rely on imperfect parents to raise him in an uncertain world? This is not exactly a winning formula to re-create the royal glories of the Davidic age. And aren't God's people expecting someone to transform a society that's slipped away from it's pious past?

The plan's simply crazy.

Perhaps the angels understood God's rationale once they witnessed the shepherds cradling baby Jesus with their dirty, weathered hands. Just maybe their heavenly voices were silenced by the sight of rough men hugging God to their chest, their filthy hearts.

For, maybe they realized why God's redemption story begins with newborn hide: it's easy to draw near a baby.

And this Christmas, I'm thinking about how the living Word dwelt among us so we could read the story in flesh and blood--in nails and a rugged cross.

And I wonder, do I, as a writer, live my words?

Merry Christmas, fellow writers! Let us live our words in 2012.

Melanie N. Brasher is a full time mama of two boys and wife to an incredible husband who understands her bicultural background. She moonlights as a fiction and freelance writer, crafting stories and articles toward justice and change, and contemplates faith, family, and writing at her personal blog. Though she’s an aspiring author, she’ll never quit her day job.

3 comments:

  1. You are right. The question is, though, not only whether I live my words, but whether the words I write have life. I must remember. Merry Christmas.

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  2. Before I comment on Joy's excellent blog, let me say an amen to Mrs. P!

    One comment I wanted to add. My pastor regularly points out that in those days, shepherds were so low in society they weren't considered elgible to be witnesses in a court of law. Neither were women. But God sent the message of Christ's birth to shepherds and the news of the resurrection to women. He also made sure the Magi knew about the birth, which were probably not on the contact list of the Jewish authorities when the Messiah was born.

    Jeff

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  3. Mrs. P, You're absolutely right! I pray my words have life as well. I love that. Thanks for that reminder.

    Jeff, you're right! I love that God chose shepherds. This Christmas, I'm amazed at how God bridged social classes & cultures at his birth. Great insight.

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