The whole of Christ's life was a continual passion; others die martyrs, but Christ was born a martyr. He found a Golgotha, where he was crucified, even in Bethlehem, where he was born; for to his tenderness then the straws were almost as sharp as the thorns after, and the manger as uneasy at first as the cross at last. His birth and His death were but one continual act, and his Christmas Day and his Good Friday are but the evening and the morning of one and the same day. From the creche to the cross is an inseparable line. Christmas only points forward to Good Friday and Easter. It can have no meaning apart from that, where the Son of God displayed his glory by his death (John Donne, quoted in Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus, ed. Nancy Guthrie).
Thanks be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ for all His good gifts:
songs of worship :: opportunity to attend a marvelous church Christmas concert :: Mezzo singing in the choir :: time with Mom and Dad for brief errands :: Dad bringing stopgap groceries :: weather that can't make its mind up :: 81 degrees on December 1? :: bit of definite improvement in ankle :: library book to read with a friend :: new book of Advent devotions :: sick day today :: lots of fuzz therapy :: Amore coming home for lunch :: autumn roses :: the gold of our poplar (we think) tree before the winds came :: discovering this lovely Nativity poem :: this week's memory verses :: He Himself is our peace, making unity of estrangement
(Joy Dare #8223-8240)
