In Bethlehem, the human being who best understood who God was and what he was doing was a teenage girl in a smelly stable. As Mary looked into the face of the baby, she saw her son, her Lord, his majesty—she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Somehow Mary knew she was holding God. So this is he she thought. She remembered the words of the angel: “His kingdom will never end.”

He looked like anything but a King. His cry, though strong and healthy, was still the helpless and piercing cry of a baby. Majesty in the midst of mundane. Holiness in the filth of sheep manure and sweat. Divinity entering the world on the floor of a stable, through the womb of a teenager, and in the presence of a carpenter. God came near. And as Luke 1:33 says, “His kingdom will never end.”

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