The Incarnation

I know, I know, you're freaking out. Wondering if you stumbled into the December archives? Nope. You're here. Who says that the Incarnation can't be discussed when it's not Christmastide? And, granted, we probably made a post about the Incarnation around Christmas. But I don't think we can have our minds blown too many times by the love of our God. So, here it is again.

We're actually going to start a long way back, as far as time, from Bethlehem. We're going to begin at the creation of the world. There was a God who spoke the words "Let there be light," and boom! there it was. Light. Ever seen a light that absolutely dazzles your eyes? God made all that light, and more of it, by speaking. After that, he made the land and the sky and the animals and the trees and the waters and the fish and everything else, and finally man. He breathed life into Adam and Eve. Then, they rebelled against Him. The pots decided to be the potter. God promised that, from them, would come a Saviour. This same God later worked through Abraham and Jacob and Joseph and Moses and Joshua and Ruth and Saul and David and Elijah and Daniel... the list goes on, and I don't have the room or the time to tell all their stories. So, recount them with me in your head. Look at what God did for them and for Israel through them. Isn't that kind enough? After all, we're a pack of rebels! How often do we spit in God's face, tell Him, the King, "I'm running things my way now. Step aside, if you please, because I'm not going to submit to you. No fun, no friends, nothing in it for me. I'm doing what I think is best, and I don't care what you say." He breathed life into us, and we rebel! Isn't it amazing that he even aided Israel during the time of the kings and the exiles?
Now, with that still in your mind, think about this. The King of glory, who made the whole world, who has had people rebelling against His perfect reign for thousands of years, decides to become one of the creation. A man. With limits of space and time. With pain and suffering and temptation. Not only a man, though. It would have been amazing if He'd come in a golden chariot from the sky, surrounded by cherubim and seraphim, blasting trumpets. But no. He came as a baby, thought to be conceived out of wedlock. And he was born in a stable. Not a clean, neat stable with cute fluffy sheep, like the ones that go up as nativity sets in your living room, but a real stable. It probably smelled awful, and it was probably not the most comfortable place in the world to be. And, not only did He come as a baby, but He came with the intent of dying. And not only dying, but dying at the hands of those he created, betrayed by His friend. He came so that he could be scourged and beaten for hours, spit upon, and nailed through the feet and wrists to a Roman cross, where he slowly suffocated over the course of six hours.
Why?
Because He loves you. He loves us.
Why? That, I don't know. We certainly don't deserve it.
Marvel, though it isn't December 25th, at the amazing grace and mercy of our God.
"Amazing love! How can it be that Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?"