Tuesday, December 26, 2006

The Miracle of Christmas

The miracle of Christmas is composed of many parts:
That Father and Son and Spirit would open their heart,
Each to play His role to make the elect whole.
Of course the Trinity is One in some way unimaginable
And equally incomprehensibly Three [true mystery].
Before time God made His unchangeable plan,
Knowing Adam would fall, to redeem each chosen man.
God made His plan and carried and carries it out
No matter how many don't get it or doubt;
What God has willed God will accomplish, perform;
The miracle of Christmas was completed Easter morn.

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Friday, December 22, 2006

Jesus the Christ:
Born to live a sinless life to
Die a sinner's death;
How could we not say hallelujah
With each God-given breath?
How could we not give up "our" lives
To live to His glory?
How could we not set aside the goals for which we strive
Given all He laid aside that we may know real life?

Jesus the Christ:
Born to live a sinless life to
Die a sinner's death:

"For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" [2 Cor. 5:21; ESV].

"I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what the will of God is, what is good and acceptable and perfect" [Rom. 12:1-2; ESV].

Incarnation

God took the form of man yet
Fully remained/remains God while
Serving/teaching as Son of Man

Then lived a full life facing temptation resisting temptation--
Not a sinful thought, not a sinful word, not a sinful act--
Then concluded that sinless life and took up the cross

Embraced the cross
Embraced the Father's will that there would be death
Embraced the Spirit in trusting there would be a resurrection

Incarnation
[written by Garry and Elizabeth Knussman]

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Monday, December 18, 2006

Twas the week before Christmas [vintage 1986; December 18]]

It doesn''t seem like Christmas is just a week away,
Not today.
All days seem somewhat similar, or dis-,
And so they are, for a "grown-up," that is.
They go on and on in a stream unbreakable
With expectations and demands unshakable.

Life wasn't always so regimented
As to drive one to be nearly demented.
There was a childhood in everyone's past,
And for most it couldn't last.
Oh, not the immaturity, that's not what I mean,
But the sense of seeing which was once more keen.

The sense of seeing and of surprise
Gets lost in the transfer to "adult" eyes
And wonder is with worry and rush replaced
As we learn that no haste is waste.

So Christmas becomes another season
Filled less with wonder than with reason,
And we hurry and we count
As commitments mount,
And we rush and we fret
About what isn't done yet,
And we lose our breath and our peace,
For this is grownuoness--no time for release!

We push and we panic and we hope we won't be late;
We've got to dash and dash and push away the hate
Of the guy who cut in front of us in any given line
And of the children weary who scream and whine
And we put on the right face
As we push the frenetic pace
Which never comes to a sane halt of quiet;
Don't try to deny it.

That's how it gets to be
As we all verge on seasonal insanity.

It isn't just grading and papers to write
That makes us lose sleep on these winter's night
After night but the pace that we buy
And the stories we self-tell, those are why

Christmas cannot come in just seven days--
We've run far too low on our stock of praise
In our haste and in our worry
Mostly what we've got is hurry
And praise takes time--a precious commodity
Whether in country or city community--
And we've used it and gotten overdrawn
And now we are feeling quite put upon. . . .

We cannot buy praise or thanks;
They don't draw interest in banks.
They come from a heart
At peace, quiet, in part
From not competing,
Not head-beating
Against the nearest wall
For not being better than everyone or all.

Grace is what it takes to praise
And praise makes grace abound on days
When both seem in shortest supply
And for both, each, all, God is why.

He is reason enough for each rejoicement,
The Word who defines what the voice meant,
And goes beyond, and sweetly surrounds, protects,
Within whose confines we can connect
And find tranquility and content,
Finally whole, our hearts no longer rent,
For He is our peace and in His image we
Can find joy and harmony.

Then Christmas and Easter and all other days
Will find for us the norm is praise.
Circumstances be what they may,
Let joy resound both night and day.

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