Issue link: http://denverseminary.uberflip.com/i/420759
December 13 Luke 2:6–7 Winter Larry Lindquist, EdD Associate Professor of Leadership & Director of Leadership Program I n Luke 2:6–7, we see what seems to be a pretty pathetic entrance for the Son of God. Imagine arriving at a Christmas party, but no one even notices your arrival. I believe there's something in each of us that seeks some recognition. Mailing birth announcements, posting on social media, balloons, parties, gifts, and flowers—all contribute to the importance of the arrival of a baby. But the Son of God, Creator of the universe, made no grand entrance. He came like the silence of a winter snow. Have you ever been walking at dusk on a winter's evening and suddenly noticed big flakes of snow falling out of the dark blue sky? at seems to be an appropriate metaphor for Christ's Incarnation. No pomp, no Olympic opening ceremony, no thunder and lightning, no "Here I come to save the day" appearance—just "she gave birth to her first born son." e words of Audrey Nicole Assad's song "Winter Snow" speak about this quiet arrival: You could have come like a mighty storm with all the strength of a hurricane. You could have come like a forest fire with the power of Heaven in Your flame. But You came like a winter snow, quiet and soft and slow. Falling from the sky in the night to the earth below. You could have swept in like a tidal wave, or an ocean to ravish our hearts. You could have come through like a roaring flood to wipe away the things we've scarred. at type of entrance seems so consistent with the humility of our Savior. Philippians 2:7 says, "Rather, He made Himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself." Next time you arrive at that Christmas party and no one seems to notice your arrival, go pour yourself some eggnog and remember the quiet, winter snow entrance of Jesus. 8 Snow