Articles and thoughts by Steve Green.
Babies are safe… approachable. How kind of God to come to us in such visible weakness, putting on the rags of humanity, clothing himself in the flesh of an infant so we would not be afraid. How else could we ever gather enough courage to come near to him? My mind staggers to think of his condescension, the extent of his love to reach the likes of me, a great sinner. I need to know this tenderness of God… for still, sometimes, my heart fears. Yet because I also have the capacity to war with God, to resist and run from him, I need to know more than the gentle infant… I must encounter the God who can batter my heart, overthrow and conquer my opposition. I require the terrible force of God to rescue me. While many would rather keep Christ in the manger, where he coos instead of calls, the real evidence of His kindness is the power of His might to save us from our sin. At this time of Christmas, may His salvation be your comfort and joy.
“Annunciation” by John Donne
Salvation to all that will is nigh ;
That All, which always is all everywhere,
Which cannot sin, and yet all sins must bear,
Which cannot die, yet cannot choose but die,
Lo ! faithful Virgin, yields Himself to lie
In prison, in thy womb ; and though He there
Can take no sin, nor thou give, yet He’ll wear,
Taken from thence, flesh, which death’s force may try.
Ere by the spheres time was created thou
Wast in His mind, who is thy Son, and Brother ;
Whom thou conceivest, conceived ; yea, thou art now
Thy Maker’s maker, and thy Father’s mother,
Thou hast light in dark, and shutt’st in little room
Immensity, cloister’d in thy dear womb.
Holy Sonnet XIV by John Donne
Batter my heart, three-person’d God; for you
As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp’d town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth’d unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
No Comments »
No comments yet.