G. K. Chesterton once quipped: “Paradox is truth standing on her head to attract attention.” Consider the many paradoxes bound up in the Christmas story…

“Infinite, and an infant. Eternal, and yet born of a woman. Almighty, and yet hanging on a woman’s breast. Supporting a universe, and yet needing to be carried in a mother’s arms. King of angels, and yet the reputed son of Joseph. Heir of all things, and yet the carpenter’s despised son. Oh, the wonder of Christmas.”

That was Charles Haddon Spurgeon. He describes paradoxes much better than I do.

But actually it really doesn’t require poetic genius or piercing insight to detect the riddles of Christmas. Just consider the story again, taking care not to rush over its magnificent irony. 

Like a star exploding, the glory of God bursts over a group of shepherds as a whole host of angels heralds the good news of the New Born King. But when the shepherds make their way to Bethlehem to see this awe–inspiring thing that has happened, they find that they have to push their way through a crowded stable to catch their first peek of the Fulfillment Of All The Promises Of God.

If the inn was packed by the time Joseph and Mary arrive, we can imagine that the stable was maxed out as well. Think of the stench and the humidity of all the barn animals and all the beasts of burden with out–of–state license plates.

Yes, this is the environment in which the Son of the Most High God makes his appearance. He’s wrapped in cloths and placed in the kind of box from which cows and donkeys eat their dinner.

After the song and boast of a multitude of angels, one might expect outward splendor and visible majesty, but one would be disappointed. These circumstances aren’t even sophisticated enough to be called humble.

Can you imagine any baby being born on the earth that day in less–promising surroundings? Try to do so. It’s not easy. This is poverty and want at its meanest.

Where they might expect to find more angels, they find only flies. Instead of heads of state and chief priests and elders, they see donkeys, cows, sheep, camels and barn mice. Rather than incense filling the air, they notice a foul odor. Instead of seeing treasure spilt onto the floor, they see that they’re going to have to watch their step for that kind of filth that everyone hates stepping into.

Yet, for a God who intentionally chooses the foolish things of this world to shame the wise, this is a fitting entrance.

This is the God of the Bible; the one who would later explain to Paul, “My power is made perfect in weakness.” This is just like him, in fact.

And there he was… the long–expected Messiah, the promised Christ, the Hope of the centuries, the Seed of the woman, the Zenith of God’s self–revelation, the Eternal Second Person of the Trinity, the Word made flesh, God made tangible, Love incarnate, the great Prophet, Priest, and King, in all of his glory.

Truth standing on its head.

This article was originally published in the Winter 2007–2008 issue of The Stone Tablet, a newsletter for friends and members of Cornerstone Presbyterian Church.