Fullness of God in helpless babe: a profound contrast with other would-be saviors of the day.

How does Jesus choose to spend his one irreplaceable, vulnerable human existence? Generously.

Jesus enters into the fullness of human experience, which means that he experiences grief. Even the prophet Isaiah recognized that God's anointed one would be a person of sorrows, acquainted with grief.

God chooses to enter human existence in the most vulnerable state possible: a newborn child. Perhaps vulnerability isn't something to be avoided (or even a superpower to be sought after), but one part of being human that draws us into connection with God.

The early church leader Athanasius famously wrote that "God became man in order that humans might become god." The revolution of the incarnation (literally "God in meat form") radically reshapes our experience of being human and our relationship with our own body.

Folks born between 1928 and 1945 are sometimes called "Builders," "Traditionalists," or the "Silent Generation." Is it true that the more things change, the more they stay the same? Or is it true that the past if a foreign country: they do things differently there? Perhaps by embracing both of these paradoxical truths, we can better understand how God turns the hearts of parents to children and the hearts of children to parents.

Baby Boomers: The OGs of conversations about generational differences. How did this generation go from being the generation that would "write finis to poverty and war (Time Magazine, 1966) to "The Generation that Broke America" (Time Magazine, 2018)? And what does the Boomer experience of high expectations—and sometimes disappointing outcomes—mean for the church?

The generation of people most likely to say "There's nothing special about my generation." Perhaps it's no wonder they earned the moniker "Generation X." Yet this generation—raised when everyone seemed to think the world was about to end—has carried on in remarkable ways, even when sandwiched between the demands of their aging parents and seemingly perpetually adolescent children. Perhaps the wisdom of the early church has particular relevance for people who realize the "end" might never come.

Millennials often get a bad rap—from cracks about participation trophies to critiques about self-absorptions to accusations that they've destroyed entire industries. But as Bob Yoder's work has shown, Millennials still have a keen interest in faith and want to experience genuine connections within Christian community.

If when we're born shapes who we are, how does Gen Z (born between 1997 and 2012ish) experience life and faith? Can the church listen with care and compassion to the most highly networked generation in human history?