The Diapered Divinity

The heavens do not turn three shades of red when God is born a babe. They sing. Glory to God in the highest, whose birth room smells of manure and hay. There lies the swaddled creator, all wrapped up in the things of creation—infant holy yet infant lowly, a diapered divinity.

The incarnation is not so much God-made-small as it is man-made-big.

But you’re wrong if you suppose this is beneath God, as if He's slumming with humanity. The incarnation is not so much God-made-small as it is man-made-big. The God who made man in His own image outdoes Himself: He makes Himself into His own image and thereby exalts us. Jesus becomes what you are—a woman’s child—that He might make you what He is—a son of the Father. That’s what Christmas is all about. One small step for God, one giant leap for mankind. He becomes no less, but we become infinitely more in Him.

Within the womb of Mary, something new happens under the sun. A woman is pregnant with God, by God, for us. Conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary, Jesus issues forth as the first man of a new race. This race calls God Father, and means it. For in the fullness of time, He sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.

That is what you need: redemption, adoption. You don’t need a god who strokes your ego with applause from on high when you “do good.” You don’t need a deadbeat deity who’s so busy caring for his universe that he shows no concern when his children go astray. You need the God for whom nothing matters more than to save you, to adopt you as His own flesh and blood. You need the God who cares enough to tell you the truth, to say, “Apart from me, you are depraved, dead, and damned. But I love you. I want you. I desire you to be my child more than anything else. So I have done everything necessary for you to be mine.”

This is the God—the God-made-man—you need. He is the Lord you have. He gives purity to the depraved, life to the dead, salvation to you under hell’s thumb. He did not come to save the trees or the spotted owl. He was not born to rid the world of hunger or stop the ravages of war. He came to be for every man what no man has been or could be for himself. Born under the law, Jesus fulfilled the law He Himself had given. He was the perfect infant, perfect teenager, perfect adult. He bore your flesh and blood along through every stage of life, bearing it to the cross, bearing it out of the grave. And all of it is credited to you. You—perfect infant; you—perfect teenager; you—perfect adult, all in Jesus. For God so loved the world, He strapped the world to the back of His Son, so that where He went and what He did, you went and you did also.

So shout greatly, O daughters of Zion, for a virgin daughter of Israel has entered motherhood. Humble and mounted on a manger, Jesus rides into our world, and heaven follows after Him. Hosanna to the Son of David, born in David’s town. Blessed is He who comes from the bosom of His Father to the bosom of His mother. He comes for all.

Are you bruised and battered by the cares of this world? He comes for you, this great physician of soul and body. Are you betrayed and abused, divorced and lonely? His advent is for you, this faithful bridegroom of the Church. Are you rich and happy, well-fed and comfortable? Yes, He comes for you, too, to show you that true riches and true happiness are found only in Him.

The nails and a spear shall pierce Him; the cross he will bear. That is why He came down from heaven: to let the earth have its way with Him that He might have His way with you. And His way is life. So be not afraid, for I bring you good tidings of great joy. For unto you is born a Savior, God in the flesh, who fills you with life divine.