Church of the Incarnation

I don't think I understood Christmas until I got my dog Toby. Now I'll admit, it's possible that I love my little Toby more than one should love a dog - not that he IS a dog, mind you, he's clearly a people. But I love him. I love him not because he's good - which he isn't always, being a preacher's kid and all. And I love him not because he's sweet - he has his grumpy moments and can be horribly stubborn. No, I love him simply because he's mine. From the day I first put him in the car and he curled up in my lap for the long trip to his new home, I've loved him. Just because he's mine.

I don't think he understands this. He tries so hard to please me, doing the things that elicit my praise and avoiding things he knows make me mad. But does he really understand that my love for him isn't dependent on any of that?

Sometimes I wish I could become a dog for a day so I could explain it to him. If I could speak his language maybe I could help him comprehend my love for him.

But of course, if offered the chance, I don't know that I would become a dog even for a day even for my little Toby. I couldn't bear to walk on all fours or sniff what he sniffs or eat what he eats. More importantly, though, I couldn't bear to become that dependent, unable to feed myself or let myself out, and only able to be where dogs are allowed. And suppose I had to be a stray dog, scrounging for every meal and in constant danger, certain to end up prey for some larger animal. As much as I love my little Toby, I don't think I could do that for him.

But of course, that's exactly what God does for us in the Incarnation. God, who spoke all that is into being, chooses to become a helpless infant gasping as that first breath of air burns his newborn lungs. God who created the fierce majesty of the animals chooses to lie with the cattle, making a feed trough his crib. God who wrapped the mountain-tops in wisps of cloud chooses to be wrapped in strips of cloth torn from the hem of his mother's robe, the dust of the road smudging his pudgy softness.

God takes on all the limitations of humanity to help us understand his incomprehensible love for us. God loves us not because we're good, which we aren't and not because we're sweet, which we aren't. God loves us because we're his. Just because we're his.

I have no words. I don't know that there are words.

Let all mortal flesh keep silence
and with fear and trembling stand;
ponder nothing earthly-minded
for with blessing in his hand
Christ our God to earth descendeth
our full homage to demand.

King of kings yet born of Mary
as of old on earth he stood
Lord of lords in human vesture
in the Body and the Blood
he will give to all the faithful
his own self for heavenly food. 1

Amen.

References:

1. Hymn 324, stanzas 1 and 2.