Conceivable

Conceivable

By Stan Key

That which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. (Matthew 1:20).

My mental powers can’t conceive

The truth God calls me to believe,

The gift he asks me to receive

At Christmas.

God wrapped in flesh – incarnate Word!

What doctrine could be more absurd?

A stranger tale I’ve never heard

Among us.

That Mary’s egg was fertilized

By God’s own seed?  I’m scandalized!

My intellect is paralyzed;

And doubtful.

That God would take the form of man?

Eternity within a span?

Omnipotent power in baby’s hand?

Sheer madness.

Such thoughts made Herod reason why

And say, “This baby has to die!

His claims to Kingship are a lie.

I rule here.”

So he performed an act of treason;

And trusting only in his reason,

He murdered children in this season

Of gladness.

Could I, like him, be so unkind,

And in my darkness be so blind,

The Light of lights I cannot find

Beside me?

Somehow I know this child, though small,

Has come to save or judge us all.

Will I before him choose to fall

In worship?

Or will I see him as a threat

(Although we haven’t even met)

And choose my path and make my bet

On me?

O Lord, give sight that I may see

And with the magi bow the knee

And make this babe my Lord – not me!

King Jesus.

Send your Spirit, Lord, I pray,

Impregnate me with Life today,

And bend my will to your own way

This Christmas.

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