A Radical Christmas....

They crossed the border and snuck into another country. They did this, if course, because they were fleeing the law. She was an unwed mother with a 3-year old in tow; the man accompanying her, a cradle-robber many years her senior. As could be expected, they lived under the radar in poverty.

When her son grew older, his tendency was to hang around rough-talking, hot-headed fishermen and befriend prostitutes. He walked comfortably with lepers, more interested in shooting the sh*t with them than he was afraid of catching their disease. Clearly, he was not the product of Polite Society.

He would call respected religious leaders 'vipers,' and use physical force to destroy their business. He, and his cousin, and his band of vagrants would wander, homeless, from place to place living on handouts. A political radical, he brought attention to the plight of the poor, the diseased, the homeless, the immigrant, the single parent, the fatherless child. He embarrassed good people everywhere.

The government found him to be an anarchist, a revolutionary, a subversive, a malcontent, a trouble-maker.

Proper religious leaders rallied their followers in opposition to this disturber of the status quo and of sound theology.

And so, in accordance with civil order, and national security, and common decency, and the Rule of Law, he was executed.

Nonetheless...every warrior's boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, and will be fuel for the fire. For unto us a Child is born; unto us a Son is given, and the government will be upon his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:5, 6)

May you all have a Radical Christmas.