Glory Laid By

The carols are so familiar, I'd miss the oomph if I wasn't careful.

On Sunday, it was "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," and the phrase "Mild, He lays His glory by."

It's such an outrageous part of the story, really. That God, very God, the same God that spoke everything into being, the same God that is all-powerful, all-knowing, present everywhere, would chose, in this way, to stuff Himself into time and space, and come down to us...as a baby!

Not as a mighty warrior, or stately king. Not as a superstar or political leader or any other iteration of power.

But as a baby. Helpless. Mild.

I don't have to go too far to bump into the wonder of this. All it takes for me is for someone to, oh say dismiss my Master's degree because it didn't come from the 'right' school. Or call me the 'token woman' on a leadership team. Or mistake me for the secretary when I was the pastor. Or, let's face it, given the right circumstances, I can be less than "mild" if someone cuts me off in traffic.

You might have your own list. The common denominator in all of it is that somehow we feel our 'importance' has been demeaned, or our 'rights' have not been respected, and how dare they?

Mild, He lays His glory by.

In what is considered to likely be one of the first hymns of the early Church, we find these oomph-filled words.

"Who being in very nature God
did not consider equality with God
something to be used to His own advantage.
Rather, He made Himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness."
Philippians 2:6-7

Mild, He lays His glory by.

So now I've gone and done it. Pretty sure the day is going to be filled with opportunities to lay any little bits of glory by.

Okay, bring it on.
Let's see where the mildness takes me.