I'm going to try to get back to more regular bloging and more spiritual blogging. One reason that it has been hard to write as of late is that it has been a tough stretch and I struggle to stay positive and hopeful.
However, I find that being transparent about what is going on in my walk, for better or worse, is helpful to others. If I'm such a misfit that I have nothing to lose by being transparent, I might as well be boldly transparent (to borrow from Luther's "sin boldly") as I write rather than meekly silent.
Anyways, I want to return to the Apostle's Creed series that I tried to start a while back.
The third part of the Apostle's Creed goes thusly, describing Jesus-
who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,born of the Virgin Mary,
I'm surprised that people have a problem with that story. If we buy into the first part of a creator God, we have established that we have a deity that is in the miracle business.
On the way back from dropping Eileen off at a baby shower, there was one of those pass-it-on character trait billboards on M-20 celebrating the 1980 "Miracle on Ice" US hockey team with the caption, "Yes, we do believe in miracles," answering Al Michaels' rhetorical question from the end of the win against the Soviets.
People are willing to flip about the prospect of the miraculous in simple sporting events, like an Olympic hockey team or (to rewind the tape a few months rather than a few decades) a Tim Tebow comeback. At the same level, they'll quickly dismiss the idea of God actually doing His own in vitro fertilization without any petrie dish or donor sperm. That brings up the interesting question-what would Jesus' DNA have looked like? Baring any Da Vinci Code-style heirs, we'll never know.
We have a hands-on God. That's not comforting to folks who don't want a personal God, who'd prefer a deity like George Burns' version in the 70s who last miracle was the '69 Mets, a god who did the Big Bang and got outa Dodge. For such deists, ongoing miracles are uncomfortable, for that brings about the prospect of a God who cares about the present day.
Like the old Hallmark line, God cared enough to send the very best, an eight-pound miracle (by the time He got born; the miracle proper was likely in the milligram range). Where's Al Michaels in the creche scene?