A seed of hope has been born today,
But there’s nothing to say that he will be anything special.
Or rather, no apparent reason to believe
The chorus of voices declaring the most remarkable of things.
Angels sing that he is saviour and King
Prophets call him a light for the world.
But tonight there is no glimpse of that glory,
Just a baby.
Tiny and vulnerable.
Weak and unimpressive.
A little acorn that can’t do anything.

The way of the seed is a mystery.
Seeds are small and so was he.
A roughly 7 pound bundle of potential.
Densely packed with profound promises from the one who does not lie.
He lies in a manger,
Though he is surrounded by far more angels than animals.
He is a seed sent from the Father’s heart
Into the heart of our darkness.
Our hopeless soil is his destination,
Planted with purpose and the ability to grow.
This process is slow.
God didn’t throw lighting bolts and chariots at the problem,
Didn’t hammer down on evil, like a blacksmith and an anvil.
After all, we were gripping darkness so tightly
That we would have been crushed in the process.
No, God chose to go slow.
And though the dragon loomed large,
His chosen champion was a baby.
His beloved boy, his precious son,
This is the one who would make things right.
And on that sacred night,
You would have just had to trust that God knew what he was doing.

The way of the seed is a mystery.
But it just so happens to be God’s favourite way of bringing new life.
He takes unique pleasure in using the weak to overcome the strong.
It was his delight to fight darkness with pure light placed inside the fragile human form .
Human sight wouldn’t have noticed the mighty victory wrapped up in that blanket.
It was hidden, Holy, and closer to what we would describe as defeat.
Pierced hands and feet. Mocking rejection. Abandoned by friends. Asphyxiation.
Cute baby Jesus wasn’t so cute when he bled on the cross.
The purpose of Christmas wasn’t the pastoral picture on postcards;
The goal of God being born as a man,
The heart of his plan,
Was nails through hands.

Yet despite this, Jesus is not the victim. He is victory.
Cause history forever changed when the tomb was found empty.
A seed must be buried before new life can sprout.
That’s what this is about!
Christ’s death-and therefore birth-introduced an entirely new type of tree;
A new way to be.

The way of the seed is a mystery.
And what grew from that seed wasn’t a Christmas tree!
It was a group of people, including me,
With broken lives who have been set free.
The world being brought back to how it was meant to be.
That was the goal, that was the victory
That Jesus valued more highly than his very life.

The way of the seed is a mystery . . . but he doesn’t want it to be.