Poem – On That Center of the Universe Night

On That Center of the Universe Night…

When that little pregnant virgin finally ended the hard journey over 70 miles from Nazareth to Bethlehem;

When her labor had ceased and she was delivered from the uncertainties and the mysteries of carrying a child conceived in her womb by the power of the Holy Spirit;

When all the speculations and doubts and fears of what the Baby would be like were answered in His appearing…

…what emotions wafted through THE FATHER’S infinite Heart as the little, vulnerable Christ-babe was laid in an animal feeding trough…

…On That Center of the Universe Night?

Our Father, which art in Heaven:
What joy?
What passion?
What pain?

Did you feel stirring, competing in your chest
When the little virgin girl finally found her rest
(rest from her journey, rest from her labor 
And rest from explaining to her nosy neighbor
She had no idea, no special insight
About what the Son of God just might look like)
On that center of the universe night
When the hay trough beamed with Eternal Light
And angels sang “Peace!” to shepherds watching
Little lambs 
Carefully kept for their bloody slaughter
On the altar 
Ineffectually atoning for man’s 
Incessant sin.

Could a Heavenly Father feel joy in the birth 
Of His little infant Son?
Could His heart swell inside for the worth
Of this solitary One?
This Only Begotten Deity?
This Baby expressing One in Three?
What was on our Father’s Mind 
Injecting infinite Divinity 
Into the morass of time…
…bathed in afterbirth?
What joy?  Joy indeed, and indeed, what worth!

Did intense passions swirl in this Father’s chest
As His ancient Son…….suckled His mother’s breast?
Did the ironies overwhelm this Father’s calm
Who was One with an Infant holding worlds in His palm,
The essence of innocence wrapped in blood and flesh,
The ultimate image of helplessness snagged in the fowler’s mesh,
Thrust into the savage and heartless gore
Of a world swamped in supernatural war?
Dwarfing the kings’ gifts of gold and spice,
A Babe is called to pay the ultimate price:
…….whatever it takes!
What passion? Passion indeed, and indeed, what stakes!

Can we compare the Father’s tears to rain
As we contemplate the foreseen pain
To be borne by this little bundle of joy and peace
Whose ultimate sacrifice will all sacrifice cease?
Though human lust defies it, 
Though self-righteousness decries it,
Though Satan’s child denies it,
Father’s omniscience knows
His Babe, deity wrapped in swaddling clothes,
Tortured and murdered at the enemy’s hand,
Would pay the King’s ransom for helpless, ragged man. 
Redeeming Infant here…….below…….sent by the will of priceless Grace above!  
What pain?  Pain indeed, and indeed, what Love! 

Hovering above, the HEAVENLY DOVE,

Beaming with, streaming with HEAVENLY LIGHT

On that center of the universe night!

Copyright, 2001 by Gerald T. Johnson.  All rights reserved.  Used by permission.

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