Once upon a time, there was a king who loved a humble maiden. She had no royal pedigree; she lived in a hovel, the humble abode of a peasant. But the king fell in love with her the way kings sometimes do. This put the king in something of a bind. How does a king express love to one of his royal subjects? His advisors told him all he had to do was command her to love him. It’s his prerogative as king to order subjects to obey him. He could summon her to his palace and crown her queen by simple edict. She couldn’t possibly resist him. After all, he’s the king and he could do whatever he wanted. But would she love him? Love must be freely given; it cannot be coerced. The king doesn’t need another cringing subject. He wants a lover, his equal. The king decides there is only one option. Since he cannot achieve this union by her elevation, he must attempt it by his descent. He must relinquish his crown, lay aside his royal robes, and come dressed as a peasant. He must become like the one he seeks to love. His method is risky since she may not love him in return. She may reject him, yet it is a risk he must take. It’s the only way.
The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) included this parable in a collection of writings called Philosophical Fragments in 1844. He conceived of this story to communicate the central meaning of Christmas. In Jesus Christ, God came down. The King became a commoner. God took on flesh. In the prologue to John’s gospel, he writes, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1.14). Soren leads us to pray: