Category Archives: Advent

What if Jesus was born a girl-child?

What if the child 
announced by the angel,
promised to a virgin mother,
to be named by a dutiful father,
surprised everyone on her birthday?

Would Joseph still have named her Jesus?
or some other name
more befitting a girl-child.
What is "God-with-us," in the feminine?

Surely she would have 
nursed and cried and toddled, just as a boy-child would.
walked, fallen and walked again, just as a boy-child would.
run and played, though maybe not so loudly, as a boy-child would.
grown in stature and in strength, perhaps even more quickly than a boy-child would.

Would she have gained entrance to the Synagogue for teaching and for learning?
Would she have been mentored and apprenticed in a trade?
Would she have been allowed to forgo marriage to follow her true love calling?

If so, then...
Would she have been baptized by John at the Jordan?
And when she rose out of the water, would the dove descend on her and the voice of heaven say, 
"This is my daughter, whom I love; with her I am well pleased."

Would she then travel the countryside teaching and preaching?
Would those who heard then listen to her, accept her, learn from her?
-- not such a threat to authorities, this young woman,
perhaps they consider her words carefully,
acknowledge her wisdom and take up her cause.

Following after her, they--
observing how she treated others,
seeing the love in her eyes
and the smile she gave to each one
the hope each one departed, carrying.

They might follow her in the way true followers do.
Unafraid and unyielding, 
listening for the voice she listened to
honoring the God she gave honor to
growing the courage to speak to the Father she spoke to,
As she did, they came to do.

Would they scorn her, dismiss her, or run her out of town?
Certainly not. 
Daughter of God, we welcome such as these,
wish we all could be such as she.

Would they would imprison her, stone her, or crucify her?
Not a chance.
Who would suspect that God would arrive 
in such a meek, lowly female form?

Who indeed?

What if Jesus had been born a girl-child?
Anything is possible with God.
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Holy Crap!

“You don’t actually believe all that crap, do you?”

There is a good bit of historical record from the time of Jesus. 
Archaeological.
Temples. Cities. Edifices.

But unlike the way those today would
proclaim their King-dem,
the life Jesus led
would not be signaled in artifact or chiseled into stone. 

The life Jesus lived is etched
in all of time and for all time. 
It lasts as we last to tell it.
It's reborn in us each Christmas.
Rediscovered with each birth of new life -- in us --
And renewed with each loving act.

Holy crap! What was that?
I didn't know I had it in me.
 

The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it

The light shines in the darkness,
    and the darkness can never extinguish it. ~John 1:5 NLT

Three angels perched on our lawn. They were all a little forward leaning, tethered by rope and peg against the grade of the hillside which tugged them and threatened to topple them. But they stood sturdy and stalwart, against rain, snow, sleet and high wind. As the world waited for the Christ child, they stood their ground. Halo’s aloft, they each held fast to an item and presented it before them. Two of them held books — hymnals or Bibles, we could never be sure — while the middle one held the light, a special candle with a flickering bulb.

Each angel we inscribed with a name, specifically, one of the names of our three daughters. Not to proclaim that they were angels, but rather to designate which wings went with which body when we pieced them together each year and made ready to place them on the lawn. Our two oldest daughters held the books while our youngest was singled out to hold the light. This responsibility she took to heart. The light she held shone in the darkness all night until the rays of the morning quenched it.

Until one year, upon returning from the Christmas Eve service, we noticed that the little angel’s light was not lit. On closer examination we discovered that the bulb had not gone out: it was missing. Someone had stolen the angel’s light. Big tears rolled down our little girl’s cheeks. Yes, because an unkindness had been done and a theft had been committed, but most of all because the little angel, her little angel, could not present the light of Christ.

In this tiny, earth-shattering moment our small daughter saw that the forces of darkness in this world are real and they are on a mission to extinguish the light. Her world would never be the same. As I hugged my teary child, searching for words of explanation as comfort, her dad knew just what to do. He raced into the house and emerged a moment later holding a small box with a replacement bulb. We held our breath as he screwed it back into place and the light was restored. Our daughter beamed with joy.

The light shone in the darkness; darkness did not extinguish it.

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