It all started in a garden.
Simple beginnings for such a complex, multi-faceted story.
But a garden it was. A beautiful woman, a whispered lie that sowed a poisonous seed of doubt, a single bite of luscious fruit (yes, sin can taste heavenly at the time), and the future course of nations and peoples and colors was to be forever altered.
It started in paradise.
Suddenly, harmony gives way to greed. Greed gives way to jealousy. Jealously gives way to hatred and murder. Paradise is lost. What a tragic place this once flawless earth has become. Its Maker can hardly bear to look on it any longer.
Grace.
Still there was grace.
The Creator chose to extend His grace and favor on one man and his family. Through that one man, though the rest of humanity was to be wiped out, humanity would yet live on.
One drop of rain followed another. And another. For forty days and forty nights this cycle continued, until there was no dry ground to be found, from the lowest valley to the highest mountain. The only break in the vast horizon of rising water was a large boat which held the survivors of this great phenomenon of nature.
The Maker’s grace was alive and well.
Humanity begins to thrive once again. The thud of hammers and the scrape of stones are heard. Man has begun to seek his own glory over the glory of his God. A tower of dizzying height is being constructed to showcase the majesty of human development and skill.
But is God not sovereign?
Confusion reigns supreme over the construction plans as one man can no longer make out what his neighbor is saying to him. God is the God of all communication as well as everything else. Separate languages are born.
Nations are formed.
Grace still abounds.
One man is called out from among many. A beautiful convenient is made. It spells salvation to a select group of sinners. The Creator has not forgotten His creation.
A child is promised to this chosen man and his aged, barren wife. From this child of promise, a blessed nation will arise. A nation favored by God. At long last, when hope is all but given up, the child is born. His parents raise him with love and care until the day when God calls the proud father to sacrifice his most prized possession— his promised son.
Shock.
Inward turmoil.
An agonized release of that which is most dear brings a father to lay his son on the alter, determined to give back to the Creator that which the Creator has graciously bestowed.
Grace.
In a sudden twist of events, a sneak preview of a greater story yet to be told, the child of promise is spared and a lamb is provided to die in his place.
The child grows and becomes the grandfather of twelve men whose names will be preserved in history as the twelve tribes of Israel.
Israel— the favored nation of God.
For many years, this nation grows quietly, under oppression. Israel serves in slavery in a pagan land.
Grace.
God has not forgotten His convenient.
A man is raised up to lead the chosen people from their bondage. Israel leaves its oppressors and begins the long journey to the Promised Land. The Creator leads the way, a pillar of smoke by day and a pillar of fire by night. He who has promised is faithful.
Generations come and go. The day comes when Israel finally inhabits the land of promise. A system of government is set in place. Permanent houses are built. A temple for the Creator is constructed.
Within the walls of that temple, a drama is played out over and over. A sinner brings a lamb to the priest to atone for his sin and the sins of his family. The lamb’s blood covers the sin of the sinner. Because of the innocent, the guilty goes free.
Grace. Grace. Grace.
It is the day of prophets, priests, and kings.
Priests, to speak to God on behalf of the people.
Prophets, to speak to the people on behalf of God.
Kings, to keep the people united as one body.
All but a shadow. A dim reflection of a greater something to come. The prophets, one by one, begin to foretell of a Chosen One. A Messiah. Immanuel—God with us.
The problem is grave. It dates all the way back to a garden. A great Savior is needed. Israel waits with breathless expectation for this unfathomable wonder that is to come.
Silence.
400 long years pass with no new word from God. Still Israel watches for the long awaited Messiah.
An ordinary day finds a common Israeli girl face to face with an angel. Divine silence has been broken. The unthinkable is quietly proclaimed behind a closed door. In nine months, God will be a visible, touchable reality. A warm body in the arms of a teenager.
One angel, one virgin, one incredible impossibility.
“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and shall call His name Immanuel.” Isaiah 7:14
An unnatural, miraculous pregnancy is carried to term. A tiny, trembling body is delivered in a cow’s stable. The climax. The unreal reality.
Salvation is wrapped tightly in strips of cloth.
Sinless perfection cannot speak, but simply grips His mother’s finger in His tiny fist.
The ultimate expression of grace.
The Creator has come to live with His creatures, as a creature. Fully God, yet fully man. A glorious, glorious impossible.
Grace. Who can fathom it?
But this divine life doesn't end in a stable. No, this Baby grows to manhood. All part of a plan, a drama played out in the mind of God before time began.
He experiences our joys and our sorrows. He laughs and He cries. He blesses the children and touches the contagiously diseased.
Sinless.
Perfect.
This is why He has come.
In a garden, sin entered into joy and harmony.
In a stable, perfection entered into pain and heartache.
Horror.
The creatures do not understand that God is walking among them. Murderous hatred burns within them. Cruelty pours from their corrupt hearts. This was not the Messiah they were expecting. He does not dance to their tune.
Two men stand before a blood-thirsty crowd. One is a murderer. The other, the sinless God incarnate. Which is to be released, asks the judge?
The murderer is released to the adamant mob, who screams for the blood of the Creator to be spilled.
Grace.
This is the final Lamb. The final sacrifice. God in the flesh takes on the sin of humanity and accepts the punishment on Himself. He lays His life down willingly. Because of His obedience, humanity is forgiven.
Prophet.
Priest.
King.
He is all three. He is the final fulfillment.
A quiet Sunday morning reveals an empty tomb. The pivotal point of Christianity. The Creator has defeated death. He is risen from the dead.
No longer are the creatures held captive to their depraved nature. No longer is the nation of Israel the only recipient of this infinate grace. Because He lives, so shall I.
Oh, how little we deserve this grace.
“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; we have beheld His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father. And from His fullness have we all received, grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God; the only Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, He has made Him known.” John 1:14-18
May this beautiful Christmas season leave a fresh impression upon you. May the very notion of grace stretch your mind to it's very limit.
Merry Christmas.
posted by Lydia
