Today, Jude picked up a wooden ring, then tossed it back on the table.

We cheered.

Funny how those little moments are what become stamped in our memory. For Jude, those moments add up and ultimately shape his early life. Every responsive smile, touch, and embrace make a difference in who he is becoming. I watch Krista and how she cares for Jude, and I realize that her interaction with him matters. We are shaping him.

After reading Mary’s song in Luke 1 yesterday, I began thinking about Mary and Joseph’s role in Jesus’ life.  Isn’t it right to assume that the way she raised him through infancy and childhood had an impact on how his personality developed?  It seems strange to talk about Jesus, God in the flesh, “developing” a personality, but if he was truly human, then he experienced all the change and growth that every person experiences in their early years.

Mary and Joseph were chosen for a reason. God knew the kind of woman she was and the kind of man Joseph was. Their parenting would help establish the kind of man Jesus would be.

Part of the miracle of the Advent of Christ is that God put himself in a position of dependence on his creation. Baby Jesus was completely dependent on Mary to feed him, change his disgusting diapers, and to protect him from disease and danger. As much as it would make us feel better to believe it, Jesus did not come out of the womb as a 12-year old, ready to teach in the temple. He came, in a position of need and frailty, then died in a position of weakness and pain.

And Mary was in on the whole thing, more than anyone else. There would be no doubting her son. As she was there at the beginning, she was there in the end, loving him in ways that would strengthen him to accomplish his mission.

I think I understand Luke 1:42 a little bit better today…

Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb!

Lately, my dad has been calling me or emailing me every couple of days with one question: “So what have you been learning?”

He’s aware of the fact that this new venture into parenthood will come with its share of “lessons,” so his question is serving to remind me that my son isn’t the only one who needs to continue growing.

So far, my answer has been, “I’m not sure yet.” These first couple of weeks have been a re-calibration for our senses. I tend to take a lot of time to think through new circumstances, but the addition of a new human being into our living arrangement has provided the new circumstances, but very little time for reflection. With the constant influx of loving family members and the inability to do any of our new parental duties at an efficient pace, only today have I been able to stop and reflect on this new miracle.

Unfortunately, deep thoughts escape me, and I can only come up with the following summary of what we’ve learned so far:

- Jude really does like the song, Hey Jude !

- Changing diapers requires a level of coordination and quickness beyond my current abilities. Jude likes to poop while I am changing his diaper, which only adds to the difficulty and excitement level.

- Krista told me the other day that I need to “grow a boob,” and though I would love to help, I’ll stick to the support role I currently have.

- The nativity story about Joseph and Mary wrapping Jesus in “swaddling clothes” wasn’t so much about Jesus’ coming as it was about telling us that if you want to sleep through the night, you better know how to swaddle a newborn.

- Finally, my wife Krista has shown a level of strength and resilience that I’ve rarely seen. Jude has a wonderful mom, and I hope I continue to grow in the role of servant leader to them both.

The good ol’ days are here, now.

This past Sunday, Krista and I were discussing an intriguing thought about the Incarnation. When we say that God became flesh, we think of Jesus as a man, walking the streets, healing people, eating real food, and experiencing the emotions that come with being a human.

But if God became flesh, then God also became an embryo within the womb of Mary, completely powerless and dependent on her. I’ve always wondered at the thought of God becoming human in the form of that baby in the manger, but God’s smallness within Mary’s womb has never struck me until now.

As I consider the implications of God’s smallness and vulnerability within as an embryo, I realize that my theology of God’s sovereignty is incomplete.  The God who exists in awesome, unbounded power is also the God who reduced himself to the size of a few cells within the uterus of the Virgin Mary.

Madeleine L’Engle captured this idea in her book, Bright Evening Star:

Was there a moment, known only to God, when all the stars held their breath, when the galaxies paused in their dance for a fraction of a second, and the Word, who had called it all into being, went with all his love into the womb of a young girl, and the universe started to breathe again, and the ancient harmonies resumed their song, and the angels clapped their hands for joy?
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Power. Greater power than we can imagine, abandoned, as the Word knew the powerlessness of the unborn child, still unformed, taking up almost no space in the great ocean of amniotic fluid, unseeing, unhearing, unknowing. Slowly growing, as any human embryo grows, arms and legs and a head, eyes, mouth, nose, slowly swimming into life until the ocean in the womb is no longer large enough, and it is time for birth.

Bobby Webb asked me if I had any recommendations for Advent books, so I thought I’d post a few that we have (re)discovered lately.  Please add to the comments any recommendations you have for worthwhile readings during Advent.

The Holy Bible
I should start here.  I’m finding it much too easy to read other things without spending time at the source.  Advent is a good season for opening our hearts to his Word again.

The Book of Jesus – ed. by Calvin Miller
This isn’t a book strictly for Advent, but I highly recommend picking it up.  It is a compilation of writings from over two hundred authors about the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus.  Krista has been spending time in the section on Jesus’ birth over the last few days and has enjoyed it.

Watch for the Light – compilation
Another compilation, but completely focused on the Advent season.  Authors include Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Meister Eckhart, T.S. Eliot, Gerard Manley Hopkins, C. S. Lewis, Thomas Merton, Archbishop Romero, Henri J.M. Nouwen, and Philip Yancey. A wide range of voices for the Advent season.  So far, it’s been mind/heart-opening.

Faces of Jesus – Frederick Buechner
The six chapters (Annunciation, Nativity, Ministry, Last Supper, Crucifixon, and Resurrection) provide a means of looking with fresh eyes at the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ life. Buechner is a great writer who has a potent ability to use the written word as a window to peer into the human heart and its need for God.

“Sooner or later you just figure out there are some guys who don’t believe in God and they can prove He doesn’t exist, and some other guys who do believe in God and they can prove He does exist, and the argument stopped being about God a long time ago and now it’s about who is smarter, and honestly I don’t care.”
– Donald Miller, in Blue Like Jazz

I love this comment because I have felt this way many times. When someone presents an opposing view on God and reality, we quickly become defensive and move quickly to get our point across, sometimes with a lot of anger (or more likely, fear).

Instead of moving in for the argumentative kill, we can defuse a combative discussion if we ask questions to understand what a person is saying and to discover what life experiences led them to their beliefs.  We would be more closely imitating Jesus if we sought to know a person’s story instead of seeking only to disassemble their argument. 

“But doesn’t the Bible say to always be prepared to give a defense?”

Actually, the verse in 1 Peter 3:15 says that we must be “prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect” (ESV).   This is from the disciple who was known for his “defense” of Jesus in an olive grove where he cut off a man’s ear with his sword.  Like Peter, our efforts to defend Jesus sometimes end up leaving someone wounded, in need of the touch of Jesus to heal them.

Peter’s letters show that his approach to defending the faith had radically changed since that day in the olive grove.  There are no complicated arguments about proving God’s existence to someone and no martial arts training to learn how to cleanly cut off an opponent’s ear.  Peter’s school of faith-defense requires the answer for only one question: “Why do you have hope?”

What would your answer be?

Ah, yes… the Holy Bible. The very mention of it stirs up a wide variety of responses. Some think of archaic language and dust-covered black leather, a book for another time. It’s an irrelevant set of religious writings that have some good advice, but no significant value for today.

Others remember their Sunday School classes from their younger days, growing up in church.  Memories involve the great stories of the Bible such as David versus Goliath, Noah’s Ark, and the life of Jesus.

What rarely comes to mind are the stories of betrayal, sex, violence, and intrigue.  It’s a dynamic book, “inspired by God,” as 2 Timothy says.  The Greek word for inspired is theopneustos, or “God-breathed.” Depending on our view of God’s character, it may be surprising that such scandalous topics are breathed-out from God. Doesn’t God want us to avoid stories that involve sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll? Apparently not.

At no point in the Bible do we ever find that a topic is being avoided. No issue is off-limits. The reason? Nothing is off-limits to a God who refuses to be separated from the real experiences and emotions of life.  Whether it be an addiction, strain in a relationship, or worry over a big decision, God is habitually getting his hands dirty to plant transformation and hope within our mess. The first four books of the New Testament chronicle this very characteristic, seen in the life of Jesus.  Those stories were about real people with complex problems who were touched by a loving, interested Savior.

Now that I think of it that way, it’s nice to know that I could have been a Bible story, too.

Today’s post is by guest blogger Krista Barmer, a brilliant writer who happens to be my wife.

“You are the anti-curse. Death going in reverse.” ~ Derek Webb

There’s an Asian woman who walks around our apartment complex when the weather is nice, like it was today, this first full day of Spring. In front of her, she pushes a gadgety black wheelchair that carries her son. I’ve studied them many times from my driver’s seat, slowing to a near stop to respectfully pass them. I studied them today.

His face, as always, was blank with retardation. Drool traced the line of his jaw and had dripped onto his t-shirt. He sat slouched, his tall and robust body curved like an S, his legs dangling just off the footrests. He could be my age, or close to it. And, if he was, he might be a writer or a singer or reader who would cross my path and we would chat for a minute about Steinbeck or Billy Collins or Sting’s Labyrinth at the local bookstore while waiting in line on our tea and coffee. But, we won’t; he only has the mind of an infant.

And she, mom, stands barely five feet tall. With all her petite strength, she pushed this hulking, dead-weight child: her lower back arched, shoulder blades pinched, knuckles white, palms wet. Her leg muscles contracted with definition. But it’s her face that told the stories. Too many stories. Determination has formed her jawline. Courage and constance have carved her cheekbones. Tenacious-ness has lined her brow. And some kind of longing I don’t understand now (and maybe never will) has colored and crowded her eyes.

I watched them today, this holy & good Friday, a day to remember necessary death and imperishable sacrifice, lifesaving atonement and finished work, a broken Saviour, a satisfied Father. I watched this mother and her son and asked, “Why?” knowing full well it was the wrong question. Knowing full well that it was good to grieve this loss because He has wept all our tears with us. Knowing that where there is death and veil and mess, life and fullness and beauty lie in wait. They wait for the third day. And for the anti-curse.

(This article first appeared at Pendrops, Krista’s blog)