Ryan's Ramblings

Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. (Luke 2:19, NIV)

We know that in the midst of this romantic tale lies a real story of deprivation and glory, of simplicity and splendor. A small woman, a small baby, the rags of poverty, the riches of salvation—all of these elements are woven so tightly into a single fabric that there is no sorting the warp from the woof. The only place where all of the majesty of that first Christmas, complete with all of its earth-shattering splendor could live was within the heart of a real woman in a real stable on a real night, making possible the real story of our salvation. The heart is that small, fleshly vault that holds vast treasures none can ever take away. Thus, we return to a crude manger each Christmas to look again at a story quickly told but never forgotten. Mary's pondering was contagious. Now the whole world ponders this glorious epoch of redemption. — Calvin Miller

The scenery of Christmas has become too familiar and comfortable. It blocks our view into the depth of the stark mystery of it all. … What if Christmas day were both a beginning and an end? The beginning of a celebration of Jesus that would not end until the next Christmas, when it would begin all over again? What if the wise men’s worship and the shepherds’ awe became, if not a daily, then at least a weekly occurrence for us? What if the peace and rest of the nativity became a part of every day? What if Christmas were no longer a “holiday,” but a holy day, infusing all our days with holiness? — Michael Card

The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger. (Luke 2:11-12, NLT)

The birth of this little boy [Jesus] is the beginning of a confrontation between the kingdom of God—in all its apparent weakness, insignificance and vulnerability—and the kingdom of the world. Augustus never heard of Jesus of Nazareth. But within a century or so his successors in Rome had not only heard of him; they were taking steps to obliterate his followers. Within just over three centuries the Emperor himself became a Christian. When you see the manger on a card, or in a church, don’t stop at the crib. See what it’s pointing to, it is pointing to the explosive truth that the baby lying there is already being spoken of as the true king of the world.                                                                         — N. T. Wright

Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus
by Charles Wesley

Come, Thou long expected Jesus
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel’s Strength and Consolation,
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear Desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.

Born Thy people to deliver,
Born a child and yet a King,
Born to reign in us forever,
Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.
By Thine own eternal Spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone;
By Thine all sufficient merit,
Raise us to Thy glorious throne.

Who among us will celebrate Christmas correctly?
Whoever finally lays down all power, all honor, all reputation, all vanity, all arrogance, all individualism beside the manger; whoever remains lowly and lets God alone be high; whoever looks at the child in the manger and sees the glory of God precisely in his lowliness.                                                 — Dietrich Bonhoeffer

After the wise men were gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. “Get up! Flee to Egypt with the child and his mother,” the angel said. “Stay there until I tell you to return, because Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.” … Herod was furious when he realized that the wise men had outwitted him. He sent soldiers to kill all the boys in and around Bethlehem who were two years old and under, based on the wise men’s report of the star’s first appearance. (Matthew 2: 13, 16, NLT)

Yes, Christmas is the glow of candlelight, and a baby sleeping in a manger. It is starlight, shepherds in a field. But Christmas is also an invasion. The Kingdom of God striking at the heart of the kingdom of darkness with violent repercussions. And victory. — John Eldredge

Bethlehem is not the end of our journey but only the beginning—not home, but the place through which we must pass if ever we are to reach home at last. — Frederick Buechner

On the Adoration of the Shepherds
by David Brendan Hopes

God is born tonight in the next town.
Be serious. Who wouldn’t go?
Lock the back door. Turn the furnace down.
Throw a handful of food at the dog. Blow
off the dinner with the couple you really like.
Riffle through the bills for those
which absolutely will not wait. Take a hike.
The way? The consequence? The point? Who knows?
Select a path, an avenue, goat trail, a turnpike,
on through the twilight and the early snows.
Angel voices are, of course, a plus,
but go in dark and silence if you must.
Remember to seek the narrowest wretched door.
Prepare to diminish, resign, dispense, adore.

*from Adam, Eve & the Riders of the Apocalypse, Ed. D.S. Martin, p. 84