Upstanding persons surely find it odd,
The way these pilgrims crawl to Bethlehem.
How baffling is the foolishness of God.

Two thousand years have passed, and still they plod,
Hoping a cave might shed some light on them.
Enlightened persons surely find it odd.

The virgin queen, derided as a fraud,
Wore sweat drops for her regal diadem.
How vulgar is the foolishness of God.

His manger had been mangled: partly gnawed
By oxen, partly damp from donkey phlegm.
Hygienic persons surely find it odd.

Naked he came, no robe, no crown, no rod:
A stone to be rejected, yet a gem.
How coarse and rare, the foolishness of God.

Infinite glory chose for its facade
The poverty that kings and courts condemn.
Upstanding persons surely find it odd.
How beautiful, the foolishness of God.

Articles by Bryce A. Taylor

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