Christmas

Heaven is hushed. No angels sing. No harps sound. Serious faces reflect the serious thoughts in every heart.

He is leaving.

Not as He’s left before—in silent, invisible Creatorhood; in fire-and-thunder majesty; in blazes so bright no one could bear to watch. This time is different. He steps into the Father’s presence one last time—it will be a lifetime before They meet again. If his mission succeeds.

If it succeeds. Will it? He is God—yet, somehow, He is becoming Man. He must do what no man has ever done before, while being tempted just as much—or more—than any man has ever been. For One just as much Man as He is God, is it possible? What if…what if He never returns?

He has come from the throne. And now He is almost at the gate. He turns one more and looks at all the gathered watching throng—and there’s a tear in His eye.

“It’s worth it,” He says. “It’s worth it if only one sees a glimpse of My Father. It’s worth it if only one ever chooses to follow. It’s worth it if only one accepts. Goodbye! I love you!”

The gates swing open, and He is gone.

The Infinite has a beginning.
The Invisible is human cells.
The All-Powerful is all-dependent.
The Creator is the poorest of poor.
The Son of God is the Son of Man.

All because God loves a dirty, sinful, insubordinate world. Angels can barely understand it—will men accept it?