This morning I have this image in my mind of a small, helpless, squirmy baby, a newborn with an alter-ego that looks something like this: “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6).

Just a baby. Born into a refugee family in a world where Rome ground in its authority under the heels of the boots of its legions. And this newborn’s task was peace; not the version the world understood, most certainly not the Pax Romana, but the Jesus kind of peace.

“My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid” (John 14:27).

Not afraid? What possible chance did this child have of achieving anything other than disappointment and heartbreak? Destined to walk no more than a couple or three days journey from his home, helping people where he could, talking to folk on the side of the road, gathering a small group of dedicated followers, sometimes drawing a crowd because he was such a compelling teacher.

But seriously, what possible impact could anyone have with that kind of a life?

YET HE CAME: Yet nonetheless Jesus came. His parents trudged the dusty road to Bethlehem on a wing and a prayer, and they continued that close, listening relationship with God, and they promised to do their very best with what they had, and they simply moved forward from there.

All through that wondrous night Mary struggled with expectancy and pain, and on that holy blessed morn, the come, oh come, Emmanuel rang through the village and the hillsides, and the heavens exploded with praise!

Because the angels knew, they knew that the balance of power on the Earth had been tipped that moment in favor of promise; and they understood that the balance of love had shifted throughout eternity; life and light, healing and possibility, because of what transpired here on this pivotal planet.

TODAY: And today, just six days into our season of expectancy, if we listen closely we can hear the echo of that joyful choir; because the balance has never, will never, can never tip back to darkness; not now that Messiah, Emmanuel, Prince of Peace, Lord of the Ages, is born.

Just a child, vulnerable, reaching for that first breath of life, and wrapped in bands of cloth. Stunningly, poignantly, heart-achingly identical to the figure of the man Jesus, just a few short years later, gently wrapped in bands of cloth and offering his last breath, too soon, with the echo of that joyful choir ringing still in the very stones beneath the tomb.

“Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him….” (Isaiah 53:4-5)