On Incarnation

This Sunday was Christmas Sunday, and my church celebrated with a service comprised mostly of singing by both congregation and a fantastic choir. Due to various influences, I ended up at the church for both service sessions that my church has scheduled. A dear friend invited me to sit through the service with her again and I agreed, thinking to myself that it would be nice not only to hear the wonderful music again, but also that it would be an excellent opportunity to do some writing. I like writing during services, and some very good thoughts tend to come out of it. It usually starts on a theme from the service and goes wherever the pen leads, but not always. On this particular morning, I decided to write a poem. With Christmas approaching oh so rapidly, the miracle of Christ's birth has been in my mind, particularly the fact of God becoming man and all of the implications surrounding it. These were some of the thoughts that were poured into the following poem, the product of my mind full of allusions being surrounded for an hour by hearts praising the greatest and humblest being in the universe.

Image

We tried so long
To make man a god
We took the greatest
And made them more
Praised them
Raised them
Exalted them to the highest
But they all
Fell
And showed themselves men and women
With wings of wax
Smoke dissipates
Mirrors shatter
And we see ourselves in the broken glass
Disjointed fragments
Showing a true image
A disconcerting image of disjointed souls
Brutal in its honesty

And the malcontents
Seek another deity

So God
Made himself a man
The greatest
Made himself the lowest
So that perhaps he would be seen
For he is the flawless mirror
That we might see ourselves
A reflection cast in diamond and gold
A truer image
And unbelievable image of what a soul could be.
Breathtaking in its honesty

And the malcontents
Were terrified

We tried so hard
To kill a God
We took the greatest
And made him the sacrifice
Pierced him
Raised him
Put him on display for all to see
And he showed us
Glory
Showing the truest image
In penultimate transparency
Brutal in its ugliness
But beautiful
A radiant image cast in light
Showing the malcontents
Their long-awaited deity.