If Jesus had been born in a fancy palace, with
attending physicians and 600 thread-count cotton sheets (Egyptian, of course)
we would think that joy only came to those who
had achieved, arrived or had it all together.
If Jesus had been born in a comfortable
middle-class McMansion (Bethlehem style, can you imagine?),
We’d think that joy only came to us when we felt
cushioned and safe in our man-made caves of complacence.
If Jesus had been born in a humble inn, with a
bustling innkeeper’s wife to wipe her brow,
We would think that joy only came to us when we
pay someone to meet our needs and ensure our comfort.
But Jesus was born in a stable with only Joseph attending
so that we could understand that incomprehensible
joy finds a home in the midst of stench, sin-soiled sadness and the
darkest night the world can fling at us.
A mighty king making a statement of hope to a world
full of hate, prejudice, uncertainty and sin.
Vulnerable and helpless—born in a stable to
show us the Way begins with Him.
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