To the Mystery

In lieu of Christmas letters I have gotten in the habit of writing reflections on the incredible and wondrous truth that God became a baby at Christmas. I don't think I 'll ever run out of thoughts to share about this centerpoint in history. I am, however, about to run out of time to get this year's reflections written. Just in case I don't get to it, I'm sharing one written a few years ago. It's timeless nature still makes it very relevant for today.

Christmas Greetings 2004
We sang a little song as children, perhaps in rote, but never-the-less it’s the mystery that surpasses all others. "Jesus loves me, this I know..." When the challenges of being "grownup" begin to overtake me, this little song takes me back to the simple truth that He wants me to come to Him as a little child. He says this not because little children are innocent but because they are incompetent in adult matters.

They don’t worry and scheme about how to make a buck to put food on the table, they just trust that they will be cared for.

And, children can live in dual worlds of both the real and unreal or mysterious. On a little hike in the woods with my great niece, we stopped at the footbridge to have a chat with the troll residing underneath. She directed this little drama, assigning me the role of troll. And so we carried on this conversation, the troll and her, that was both real and unreal at the same time.
There is so much of life that could rob me of such a wide-eyed wonder and mystery, so much that could make me question whether Jesus or God loves anybody, from the misguided who rage that somehow we must "get it right" to be in His family, to the awful death tolls of disease and war…

But there is a profound mystery even in struggle and suffering and death. Jesus likened His own life to the seed that must "die" as it falls into the dark earth, because only then can it bring forth life. This is the inescapable mystery of all time, that Jesus had to die to give us life, and greater still the mystery that His love for me and you is what empowered Him to lay down his life.

On this side of eternity I’ll never "get it right," except to believe the unbelievable... My only hope is in this mystery, that in His death and in his rising again, he cancels the power of sin and death and leads me to an infinite, glorious home, where pain and sorrow will be erased from our memory.

To the Mystery
A song by Michael Card

When the Father longed to show
A love He wanted us to know
He sent His only Son and so
Became a holy embryo

No fiction as fantastic and wild
A mother made by her own child
The helpless babe who cried
Was God Incarnate and man deified

Because the fall did devastate
Creator must now recreate
And so to take our sin
Was made like us so we could be like Him

That is the mystery
More than you can see
Give up on your pondering
And fall down on your knees.