King of kings, Lord of lords
found a home
in the humble
in a stable
“and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”
Departing from the study of James, and doubt, and faith, I was struck by this post. It was brought to my attention by a blogging friend. It’s beautiful – please go read it first, then come back here if you’d like.
I’m a man, and the older I get, and the more absolutely astonishing Christian women I know, the more I wish we had a gospel written by a woman. But it was a different time, maybe it would have been suppressed, or vilified, not by God, but by stupid humans.
Women, as well as men, were, at the time, way over on the sexist side.
I’ve never heard a sermon on the pregnancy of Mary. How wonderful would that be? And it might have to be “delivered” (pun is the lowest form of humor) by a woman to have legitimacy.
In the post above, the author said she would have thought, “A barn, Really?” I’m with her. And I think that Mary would have felt the confusion, and uncertainty, and doubt – because she was human. But I also think that she would have arrived in the end, at,
“A barn. I get it. Really I do.”
She had to have been THAT magnificent to have qualified as mother of God.
And the writer mentions that there are so many people in “stables”. It’s the piercing point of the plot.
I’ve been in a stable of trial for more than a decade, a well deserved one. It is one by which God has recast me into the man I could have been from the moment I first met him. But it took Our Lord’s prodigious love, and his fittingly austere discipline, and both at the same time sometimes, to fashion me into a half usable vessel. It’s been a long miracle, but still a God miracle.
It’s been one I have been, even in the most bitter darkness, truly grateful for.
The author of the post said, “God is sovereign and God is good.” It’s true. And every Christian “stable” has a meaning and a purpose because of that. Only because of that.
If you happen to be in a “stable”, I know as surely as I know there is a God, that God does not intend for you to waste your pain. And stables are painful – the sharp straw, splintered wood, cold stone. But I pray that not an ounce of your pain goes for naught, and that out of your “stable” may proceed true light.