The Christmas season is an irony that pays tribute to the very essence of the God of the ages. Here this season of dying and decay masks to all, but the true seeker, the very pinnacle of hope. An enslaved people are presented not just a deliverer, but a transformer, a life giver, an eternal sustainer. Presented and heralded, yet unseen in the obscurity of the misery and drudgery of taxation and poverty. A truth that continues through all time and space. Lost to the political power brokers of the day is the arrival of Him to whom the stones cry out, the peasant king embraced by the nature He created. A few startled shepherds called to come and see this thing. Announced by an enthusiastic angel visitation that will forever speak to many of folklore and question the judgment of sane and stable men. A journey in the night to go and see and task this life another sleepless night. What God is this, that hinges His mystery in the efforts of a few simple humans? And yet, to go is the call of the ages, as if to rule some great empire for a thousand ages. What is this call, that stands before, that challenges every natural and fleshly desire?
Come and see!