Okay, so thanks to being a pastor (which means that I was uber-busy with Christmas), family illness, travel, more illness, a wedding renewal, and a couple of funerals to boot, the elaborate post I had planned for today didn’t come to pass. Sorry. So instead, I leave you with this question:

What Speculative something-or-other (be it book, movie, video game or whatever, either Christian or not) are you looking forward to most in 2013?

Happy New Year!

Well, we made it folks! I do believe a collective sigh is in order. 2012 (the year that was “doomsday”) is finally in the books and we would do well to count our blessings for a moment. After all, despite a spiraling economy, inept leadership, increasing terror and violence both at home and abroad, the sudden disappearance of our beloved Twinkie and the rapid erosion of our moral foundations, the Mayans were wrong and we are still here. It is January 1st, 2013 and we have been given a chance to make the most out of the days ahead.

Now, before I continue with this post there is something you should probably know about me.

I’m not a doom and gloom kind of guy. Generally speaking, you might call me an optimist. I tend to see the good in things and choose to have a positive outlook on life. You won’t see me wearing a long face very often, but it’s not because I’m not concerned about the state of things – I am. It doesn’t take a genius to read the warning signs that difficult times still lie ahead. 2013 may very well bring the hard bite that 2012 barked about for so long. Yes, I am concerned, but I am not worried. I am prepared for the worst, and I’m at peace.

How, you ask?

It’s because I know who wrote the story of our world and he’s given us all we need to know how the story ends for those who love him. (Spoiler Alert: It ends with a glorious rapture, the return of the true king, a millenium of peace on earth, and life that lasts far beyond the shelf life of a Twinkie.)

Like the greatest of all storytellers, our God has penned and paced His story perfectly. The ending of every great story must first take us through some very dark times. It’s simply the way story works. The bad guys close in, the good guys plans are seemingly for naught and ultimately we must come to a point where it seems as if all hope is lost before evil is finally defeated and the victory is won. As a father and a husband I must be diligent and do my best to understand the times we live in and prepare for the final chapters of the story that are yet to come. I do this by reminding my family as often as I can that our hope does not lie in this world alone, but in the Kingdom that is yet to come. I do this by preparing, like Joseph, for the basics of my families survival. But mostly I do this by studying my heart and making sure it isn’t too attached to the stuff of this world – the Twinkies, if you will. Keeping a loose grip on the comforts of life, and a firm grip on the Lord of life is what gives me peace and allows me to continue to look to the future with optimism despite what is happening around us.

God has promised to rescue us in the end, and rescue us He will. He promised us that times will get darker before the dawn, and it is easy to see the darkness growing as each day passes. But he also promises his peace even in tough times.

Isaiah 26:3  “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.”

So this year, I encourage you all to consider what it is you are holding on to. Hold loosely to your Twinkies, because they can disappear in an instant. Cling to the Lord, study his Word and trust Him. You will not be shaken even if the doomsday predictions of 2012 somehow find us in the year ahead or beyond. You’ll be prepared and you’ll be at peace.

May God bless you and give you a wonderful year in this 2013th chapter of His Story.

Here at Spec Faith we’ve had several successful writing challenges in 2012, so what better way to usher in the new year than by holding our winter challenge!

By way of reminder, here’s the way this particular challenge works:

I’ll give a first line, and those who wish to accept the challenge will write what comes next–in 100 to 200 words, putting those in the comments section of this post.

Readers will give thumbs up to the ones they like the most, and, if they wish, they may give a reply to the various entries, telling what particularly grabbed their attention.

After the designated time, I’ll re-post the top three (based on the number of thumbs up they receive) and visitors will have a chance to vote on which they believe is the best.

I’ll sweeten the pot this time, too, and offer a $25 gift card (from either Amazon or Barnes and Noble) to the entry that receives the most votes (as opposed to the most thumbs up).  In the event of a tie, a drawing will be held between the top vote getters to determine the winner.

And now, the first line:
If the reports were true, Galen had reached the right spot.

Finally, those silly little details we all need to know:

• Your word count does not include this first line.

• You will have between now and midnight (Pacific time) next Monday to post your challenge entries in the comments section.

• You may reply to entries, giving thumbs up, this week and next. To have your thumb-up counted to determine the top three entries, it must be checked before Monday, January 14.

• Voting begins in two weeks.

Feel free to invite any of your friends to participate, either as writers or readers. The more entries and the more feedback, the better the challenge.

Hark! Laughter like a lion wakes
To roar to the resounding plain.
And the whole heaven shouts and shakes,
For God Himself is born again,
And we are little children walking
Through the snow and rain.

– G. K. Chesterton, “The Wise Men”

I’m sure you all know the story by heart, but let me tell it again.

Two thousand years ago, the Son of God was born in a stable, and His mother wrapped Him in a blanket and laid Him in a manger. An angel appeared to shepherds in the fields at night and told them a Savior had been born to them – Christ the Lord. Then a host of angels appeared with him, praising God and proclaiming peace on earth. And a star blazed over the Christ-child, guiding Wise Men from the east, who worshiped Him.

That is the Christmas story, and God is the Author. I wonder how far its echoes can, and should, reach in all stories. What would a story look like, written in a spirit that, like Scrooge, honors Christmas and keeps it all the year?

The first thing I think of is that a story like that would always have hope. Not all stories do, and not all people think they ought to. The dark, the morbid, and the tragic are on the market and gaining more and more. Happily-ever-afters are not only rejected by many people; they are disdained. In a world that regards tragedy as the ultimate realism and darkness as distinctly rational, hope is cheap and happiness is inartistic.

And the truth that makes such pessimism strong is this: Tragedy is real, and as common as bread; even the Christmas story went on to Herod’s slaughter of the children. This world is dark. But Jesus came to be the light of the world. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Christmas means that for the worst person in the worst place on earth, there is hope, and hope is not glib. The star of Bethlehem is still shining, and a story written in its light will reflect it.

Another truth Christmas presses on the story-teller is the reality of joy, even for us. Once in Rhode Island they staged a production of Annie that ended with Annie waking up to find that it was all a dream; she was still in the cold orphanage she had never left. (There is a philosophy that it is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness, but there is another philosophy that it is better to snuff out that candle.)

The overflowing optimism of Annie – so shortly and fully squashed in Rhode Island – comes from a change in fortunes beyond all reason. It’s an incredible rags-to-riches story. But the most incredible rags-to-riches story of all is from lost sinner to child of God and co-heir with Christ. That is what Christ was born in Bethlehem to work.

God sent “good news of great joy” to all the people. Or, as the master says in one of Christ’s parables, “Come and share your master’s happiness.” We talk a lot about God’s attributes – His holiness, His love, His creativity, His wisdom, His wrath. We would do well to remember more often His joy. Joy beats at the heart of things, and before despair and visions of almost Nietzschean bleakness, we have to say that, really, it’s not as bad as all that.

Christmas also reawakens the wonder of the universe. Our sense of wonder is easily lulled to sleep, though often it doesn’t take much to wake it up. A stray glance at the setting sun in the right moment can do it. Much, much more can Christmas.

No Christian who stops to consider Christmas can fail to see its wonder. I don’t say feel, because feelings can be elusive, especially when they’re summoned. But it’s so easy to see. God coming to the earth. The One who made everything, sleeping in a manger, an animal’s trough. The angels appearing to shepherds – a choir of angels, singing. Magi coming out of the east to worship Jesus – and to this day we don’t know who they were or how they knew to come, Gentiles and stargazers paying homage to the King of the Jews. In Chesterton’s words, God Himself was born again. The only wonder greater than that is the wonder of His love.

If a story were written under these three truths – joy, unfailing hope, and the wonder of things – it could take countless forms and faces. Mirrors are not the only things that reflect light. I will give one example, to show how far you can go from the facts of Christmas and still not lose its truth.

The Lord of the Rings so overflows with wonder I hardly need to say anything on it. From Sam’s awe at the Elves, to the enchantment of Lothlorien, to the majestic Pillars of the Kings – wherever you turn, you find it. Hope and joy are not as close to the surface, but there is a rich vein of both running through the story. In Minas Tirith, Pippin looked at Gandalf’s face and

he saw at first only lines of care and sorrow; though as he looked more intently he perceived that under all there was a great joy: a fountain of mirth enough to set a kingdom laughing, were it to gush forth.

Something very similar was said of Aragorn:

His face was sad and stern because of the doom that was laid on him, and yet hope dwelt ever in the depths of his heart, from which mirth would arise at times like a spring from the rock.

Even in the deep gloom of Mordor, hope burst through. There Sam

saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty forever beyond its reach.

So for the question of how far the echoes of Christmas can reach, the answer is – as far as any story to be told. Even in stories that wander to places where no one knows of Christmas, the revelation of Christmas – the reality of ultimate goodness – can still arch, like the sky, over everything.

The sun of righteousness has risen with healing in His wings, and we have no call to act even in our stories as if all is black. Stories are not woven without dark colors, but we should always be able to find that bright thread.

– – – – –
Shannon McDermott is the author of The Last Heir, the novella Beauty of the Lilies, and the Christian Holmes series. She also works as an editor for SALT Magazine. To learn more about her or her work, go to her website at or join her on Facebook.

Sick of diets, better scheduling, new workout plans, or commitments to take up a hobby? Why not instead consider a new New Year’s resolution: putting your children off enjoying reading and stories — possibly for life! — using only common objects found in your home?

Of course, as a friend of mine recently suggested, the simplest way to do this is by failing to teach your child to read. But that’s not the route apparently paved by certain U.S. federal government public-school administrators, who according to one columnist would prefer doing away with all those dull, useless “liberal arts” fields such as literature and creative writing. What are schools for, anyway? The development of individuals to reach their sin-tainted but persistent-image-of-God personhood? Heck no. We all know that schools are for rolling out new Workers off the assembly lines so they can also run the assembly lines.

So it’s clear children must learn to read. Even those who disfavor assembly-line education practices would agree. But how may we best prevent them from enjoying fiction, especially those odd and likely useless stories about fantastic people, battles, and worlds? Here’s how!

1. Restrict favored genres only to biographies. Or, if you do allow some fiction, only permit access to historical fiction or works of overt allegory.

Option A: Real life is interesting enough. So why opt for stories and other creative works at all? Just because the Bible itself does this across multiple books (e.g., the Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, the Song of Solomon), and just because Jesus with His parables endorsed this approach, doesn’t mean you also should. Sure, fiction may not be sinful lies. But what is its point? It’s best to rule out fiction by default and focus your children on biographies, theology, and history. They’re best for operating Christian assembly lines.

Option B: You could be a more-“libertine” parent and permit fiction. In that case, the best books are historical fiction, which are both more realistic and Educational. Or a book like Pilgrim’s Progress, which is allegorical, more like Jesus’s parables, all of which were specific one-to-one allegories — like His story about the shrewd manager (Luke 16: 1-9).

2. Make sure children know that reading isn’t really meant to be enjoyable; rather, it is Educational and Very Serious.

Enjoyment of a thing “for its own good” — a poor phrase that describes “losing yourself” in relatively sin-free joy using the good gifts of God — isn’t very spiritual. Whether your children are public-schooled, private-schooled, or home-schooled, they should see books primarily as School Territory. Even if they love reading anyway, and attempt to elope with their books, Serious Education must jealously stalk them to all quiet corners.

3. Market books to children, as they have already been marketed to you, as Moral.

One publisher summarizes its mission to provide “good and wholesome reading” to endorse “character traits [that] children assimilate during their formative years [which] are the foundation from which a life of faith in God is built,” and offering “inspiring role models” who consistently demonstrate “perseverance, courage, hope, loyalty, humility.”

Unlike imaginative stories by others that show characters struggling against their own sins, before growing and winning victories, and even unlike the Bible itself, it’s best to skip to the end and show characters who almost immediately attain moral prowess.

With or without explicit (pun intended) endorsement, this approach ensures that children — and you — accept a view that human nature is inherently good, and only corrupted by outside Things. This concept is Biblical, approved by most of church history and Scripturally solid theologians over the centuries, and is favored by Jesus Himself (Mark 7).

4. Give children only poorly written books.

Let us say that you — contrary to the above recommendations — are more open a parent than others. You even don’t mind your children reading fantasy and sci-fi, including the currently trendy “dystopian” or “post-apocalyptic” genres. You may even go so far as to “screen” books for children, helping them to practice Biblical discernment and enjoyment as they read (though this seems a drastic and unnecessary step). Given these practices, then, it is crucial to read these books only for their authors’ or publishers’ credibility, endorsements by others, or perhaps moral themes (see no. 3, above), and not for the skill and artistry of the story behind told. After all, God in His own Story made it clear that He cared little about beauty and craft, or how His Story was told, only that it was told at all.

5. Teach children to love reading using only your words, not actions.

My wife recalls meeting a parent determined to teach her children to love reading. On her own reading table, however, were only a couple of magazines. This practice is pivotal. To make sure your children suspect reading is an ultimately useless practice, you can do no better than to use only words and not actions to encourage your children to read.

This way you will surely instill this lifelong belief: that reading books is for children.

Some may object that even busy parents should make time for reading, first the true Story by the ultimate Author, but also works of nonfiction and imaginative fiction. In an age of audiobooks and reading software on smartphones, fewer excuses exist not to read. But this is also unnecessary. Parents should focus only on running their own child-assembly lines.

Conclusion: crucial redefinitions for ruining your child’s love of reading.

We can’t guarantee perfect results. Every child is different, and it may be that your child grows to develop a love for imagination-driven joy in God (and thus increased love and joy in Christ alone) despite your best efforts. Therefore it’s vital to redefine these terms:

“Humility”: holding yourself above a story to use its Parts for other life goals.

“Good theology”: ignoring the Bible’s genres of revelation, and/or adding to its commands.

“Building character”: implicit refusal to enjoy losing yourself in God’s creation as reflected in the subcreations of stories, leading to imagination-driven wonder that leads to worship.

I think you never hoped to see
A poem on this blog by me.

Although the topic here’s Spec Fic,
My conscience feels no twinge or prick.

For—

Were not speculative tales of old
Through timeless epic verses told

By bards who trod rough highways lone
To sing before a fiefdom’s throne?

Let’s see…

There’s Homer, penning legends bold.
And Gilgamesh’s story told

By ancient unnamed poet’s quill
Whose great words students study still.

I’ll admit…

Beowulf put me to sleep,
Though others find it rich and deep.

Virgil’s Aeneid goes way back,
But with my Latin knowledge-lack

I must, alas, forego the pleasure
Of examining that classic treasure.

For a change of pace:

Shahnameh, “The Book of Kings,”
Tells Persian tales of many things.

The work’s the Iranian national poem.
With 60,000 verses, it’s quite a tome.

Did this inspire Rushdie?

The Sanskrit epic Mahabharata
Is hard to rhyme with if you wanta

Fit its name into this ditty.
Unless you’re feeling very witty.

Moving on…

Not
All poems
Have to rhyme.

Meter
Is optional.

Free verse
can be visual.
A vivid,
visceral hurricane
to blow the reader away.

Yet the saga in verse,
Proud precursor of the epic speculative tale,
Today
Withers in the relentless glare of a fatal, scorching neglect.
A traveling bard on his knees,
Panting,
Too weak to stand,
Too dry to sing,
While around him,
Fat prose-mongers sip their coffee
Then take a cooling dip in their lapping pool of words,
Swimming in words,
Splashing them on all who venture near.

Poetry sits in a corner,
Alone and maligned,
Its sweeping dramas silent.
Its soaring grandeur grounded,
Wings clipped by a dearth of eyes,
Voice silenced by a ringing deafness.

Have writers no patience for it?

Have poets have no readers for it?

O gallant ode,
Will you arise one day to warble at the dawn?
Or will you remain a musty book
On a dusty shelf
forgotten?

I think that I shall never see
A TV show lovely as thee.

Most of my articles here at Speculative Faith concern the intersection of speculative fiction and my belief in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. Sometimes I focus primarily on speculative fiction, but today, I’m tipping the scales the other way and writing primarily about my faith. After all, the end of the Mayan calendar notwithstanding, another Christmas is approaching.

Earlier this week there was a late-night police action in my neighborhood–an unruly party, perhaps, or some sort of illegal drug or gang activity or possibly individuals succumbing to anger and venting in a display of domestic violence.

Ah, it’s Christmas.

We celebrate Jesus, good news to the world because He brings peace on earth, He gives joy to all mankind. Yet so obviously, many people do not understand.

How have we Christians failed to tell the world the truth about Jesus? No, He is not a cute newborn or a religious version of Santa Claus. He is the image of the invisible God. In Him all the fullness of Deity dwells.

So what? Jesus isn’t here now.

He Himself answered this when He was talking with His disciples–first, He showed the Father, but also by going away, He made it possible for the Holy Spirit to come.

Israel had God in their midst. They had prophets who told them what God said, and priests who would make sacrifice on their behalf.

The disciples had Jesus with them, beside them, talking, teaching, living, performing miracles.

But the Church has God in us, each one. Consequently I enjoy the fellowship of God–His presence, His counsel, His conviction, comfort, truth, assurance. He holds my hand and to Him I cling. He is with me when waters overflow. He is the One in whom I will boast–not in wisdom, riches, or might.

Jesus coming in the flesh made this relationship with God possible. That’s why it’s important to celebrate Christmas. It’s the single-most pivotal event in history. Some may think Easter holds that place, but Easter is actually an extension of Christmas.

Jesus, born of Mary, was God’s first step onto earth in the skin of Man. It was the beginning. Everything that night of Jesus’s birth was a shout–the great, glorious plan of redemption, worked out before the foundations of the world, was unfolding. It was being revealed to us who, through Him, would become believers in God.

Christmas is the ultimate Reveal! It’s the greatest ah-ha moment since time began.

But so many look past it or don’t get it. Perhaps too many have relied on slogans–put Christ back in Christmas (what does that mean? Include a manger scene in our decorations? Say Merry Christmas instead of Happy Holidays?) Perhaps we’ve allowed the birth events to dominate the meaning of Christmas. As important as was the virgin birth, the angelic announcement to the shepherds, the coming of the magi, the real “magic” of Christmas is this “first step” in God’s plan to rescue His creation. It’s begun. And praise God that it is so!

Maybe even go tell it on the mountain. Or in a story.

Storytelling is as ancient as man. We have always told stories. It is no coincidence that the bulk of the Bible is made up of stories. Not only narrative, but people telling stories to make points, teach, and convict. Yet in our day, non-fiction sells better than fiction. Especially in Christian circles, novels are often seen as inferior compared to a Bible study or a book on how to better one’s marriage. Many even consider novels a waste of time. Mere entertainment.

Yet, studies reveal that when it comes to transmitting truth, a story is a better vehicle to incorporate those truths into our lives. Not only truth itself, but how we learn to interact socially with one another. Non-fiction activates only the language sectors of our brain, while stories can activate not only the language sectors, but smell, feeling, motor movements, and others if descriptive words are used. The studies show evidence that stories actually make changes in people’s lives based on the truth they convey because a reader experiences it. Not merely reads about it.

In fact, this information illuminates the power of stories–they are teaching us something whether it is intentional or not. Through experiencing the reality of a set of characters, we gain a degree of their experience as our own, and it becomes a part of our history and memory. This is why we may have trouble recalling the points in the last seminar we attended, but can easily rattle off a story told in that same seminar.

I would agree with Mike Duran’s recent blog post here, that fiction is not a good vehicle for systematic theology. I would contend, however, that all fiction will convey some type of theology, philosophy, or moral worldview, and that fiction exposes a reader to the practical experience of that truth better than non-fiction. Fiction helps to make truth concrete and contextualized into our daily lives. Non-fiction is better for defining and describing truth, but it lacks the ability to effectively internalize truth. Storytelling takes theology out of the academic and makes it concrete in everyday life.

I would suggest that what plagues much Christian fiction isn’t so much the desire to convey theological truths, but the mixing of non-fiction with fiction. Both forms are valid and have their place, but when they are mixed into a story, the result tends to be a story that isn’t engaging and/or sloppy/incomplete teaching. The two forms have very different goals and purposes. Non-fiction’s goal is to convey information in an interesting manner. Fiction’s goal is to provide an experience in an entertaining manner.

Non-fiction can use snippets of stories to illustrate truth. However, the more that non-fiction is inserted into fiction, the more problems that arise for that story. The more a section sounds like, “And the meaning of this story is…,” the more non-fiction you have. The less natural a point is to the narrative and characters, the more it will feel as if, instead of enjoying an experience, the reader is being fed information. The more the story smells like a set up to make a point, the more it will appear to be non-fiction disguised as fiction. None of those make for effective fiction or non-fiction.

On the opposite side of the mirror, readers—especially Christian—tend to force a Christian story into a systematic, non-fictional framework. It’s as if they have a checklist: “Bible quotes ? Check. Call to salvation? Check. Good Christian example from lead character? X …what? Fail!” Readers who do that are expecting a story to hit on all points of theology, which is impossible. Even Jesus’s stories didn’t do that. You can’t take the parable of the merchant who sold everything to buy a pearl of great price and deduce a whole systematic theology from it. If you do, it will be very messed up. Stories should be evaluated on the points they do make, not on the ones they aren’t aiming to hit.

Jesus intentionally told stories to make specific points. He refused to explain them save to His disciples when they asked. He left it for the listener to get the point and apply it. But the rest of his audience? If they didn’t get it, they missed out. Many Christian authors have a hard time doing that. They fear the reader will not get it. For sure, many of them won’t. But those that do, it has a significant impact. Do what Jesus would do: tell the story and allow God to use it as He wills rather than forcing an interpretation of your own upon it. Communicate an experience of truth more so than a message.

Reality is that storytelling is the most effective way to convey truth from person to person. That is why God chose to use it, both in the Old Testament and with Jesus Christ in the New Testament, instead of a systematic theology. People have been interpreting it ever since.

What benefits and dangers of using stories to convey truth do you see?

– – – – –
As a young teen, R. L. Copple played in his own make-believe world, writing the stories and drawing the art for his own comics while experiencing the worlds of other authors like Tolkien, Lewis, Asimov, and Lester Del Ray. As an adult, after years of writing devotionally, he returned to the passion of his youth in order to combine his fantasy worlds and faith into the reality of the printed page. Since then, his imagination has given birth to The Reality Chronicles trilogy from Splashdown Books, and Mind Game, Hero Game, Ethereal Worlds Anthology, and How to Make an Ebook: Using Free Software from Ethereal Press, along with numerous short stories in various magazines. In his Texas Hill Country residence, he continues to create and give wings to new realities so that others might enjoy and be inspired by them.

You may learn more about R. L and his work at any of the following:
Author Website, Author Blog, Author Store, Twitter, Facebook, and Google+.

“Best books of 2012” lists, like this and this, have come to popular Christian websites. They bug me. They include only books of doctrine, history, biography, Very Practical Resources for ministry — which overlook a crucial Resource that God Himself endorsed in His Word:

Imagination. Story. Creativity. Not ignoring truth, but accepting truth as revealed by God, then running it through a “simulation.” Asking of it, “what if?” Setting the Word to music.

If ministers ignore the music of imagination, they risk teaching half-truths. In fact, I have even begun saying — I hope not in a legalistic way — that not even giving fiction honorable mentions in best-books-of-the-year lists, rejecting fiction by default, is inhuman.

There’s a reason God’s Word doesn’t only offer a series of systematized theological truths.

And there’s a reason Christ didn’t “count equality with God a thing to be grasped” (Phil. 2:6) and instead chose to undertake a drastic divine experiment with success guaranteed: to be clothed in flesh. He extended Himself, not losing any of His divinity, but adding humanity.

At Christmas and any other time, I suggest we can appreciate this truth more even in our limited efforts to explore this — exploring not only with true, propositional statements:

The Son of God, the second person of the Trinity, being very and eternal God, of one substance and equal with the Father, did, when the fullness of time was come, take upon Him man’s nature, with all the essential properties, and common infirmities thereof, yet without sin; being conceived by the power of the Holy Ghost, in the womb of the virgin Mary, of her substance. So that two whole, perfect, and distinct natures, the Godhead and the manhood, were inseparably joined together in one person, without conversion, composition, or confusion. Which person is very God, and very man, yet one Christ, the only Mediator between God and man.

— from the Westminster Confession of Faith, chapter VIII

… But also with Biblically informed imaginations. We accept God’s Word, then ask, what if?

1. To the extent that God is “conscious,” fully aware, omni-everything and always consistent with His perfect, standard-setting loving and holy nature — how did Jesus experience the incarnation? Dwelling in eternity, did He sense an existence-shattering perception shift as He, the “timeless One, stepped into time”?
2. Imagine the moment the Holy Spirit’s power came upon Mary (Luke 1:35). What did this look like at the molecular level? Were there “special effects”? Invisible light within? What exactly intersected with Mary’s egg and genetic code?
3. How did the joining begin to grow? Did Mary have any health complications, or was this a pregnancy with no glitches?
4. Surely because Christ was fully Man, He developed in utero as a completely normal human baby. Did that mean He had no divine-level consciousness at that point?
5. Did the unborn Christ respond to outside activity, as did John (Luke 1: 39-45)?
6. Is it all right to realize, carefully, that Christ as a newborn infant — as well as during His whole earthly life — was a real, physical, normal-looking baby? He would have emerged with bodily fluids, slimy and red and squalling. Joseph, or whoever helped with the delivery, would have needed to cut the umbilical cord.
7. “… But little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes,” goes the second verse of “Away In A Manger.” Scripture doesn’t say that He did cry, but like a normal human, He must have. If so, did His earthly parents expected otherwise? Were they surprised?

8. Later, Mary and Joseph took turns changing His diapers. Jesus had accidents. How can we honor His humanity about this without forgetting His equal divinity?
9. When and how did Jesus “wake up” and realize He was God and had a mission? Or did He always know? How might His earthly parents have communicated this to Him? Or did they also assume along with Him what He had come to do?
10. What was it like to have a truly perfect Son? Or (perhaps worse) a perfect Brother?
11. Why don’t we more often use this argument in apologetics: that unlike other faith founders, all of Jesus’s known family, including His brothers, believed in Him?
12. How did His omniscience and omnipotence “fit”? The human body and mind can only encompass so much. Surely omni-everything attributes do not count. Is this why Christ often referenced His close relationship with the Father? Did He have a “connection” and this is what “kept” Him fully God, in terms of His powers, not His divinity? (His divinity was never “turned off”; I believe that’s one of the heresies.)
13. Do we often consider: Jesus was the only true, real superhero Who ever lived?
14. How might we honor His incarnation in the fantastic fiction we love, or write?