Day 13: Son

υἱός — huios

A son in the ordinary sense, with this difference, that one must keep in mind the greater solidarity of the family in ancient times: son, male descendant.

Everybody likes babies really. They’re cute, helpless and endearing (when they’re asleep and you can give them back). All the same, it seems a little strange that the one who came to save the world came as a baby boy.

Babies, as said before, are helpless, they’re fragile. Not only that but he was born in poverty, in a stable, a massive health risk statistically speaking and that’s before you take the infant mortality rate of the day and the monarch trying to kill him into account. He was born in miraculous but questionable circumstances, conceived by a virgin who was unmarried at the time.

But God smiled down at the little baby, his son, the first of many twists in the Epic Saga of Grace. The baby didn’t smile though. I suspect he was pink and blotchy, squawking and wriggling because this Saviour of the world really wanted some milk.

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