drances to the worship of God; but the time was not yet.
For them still the Holy Land, Jerusalem, the Temple, were the place of
God's manifestation, and all else the dwelling place of idols. They must
have shuddered in abhorrence at those strange forms of gods which rose
about them on every hand. We cannot ourselves fail to draw the contrast
between the statues which filled the Egyptian sanctuaries and before
which all Egypt, rich and poor, mighty and humble, prostrated
themselves, and this Child sleeping on Mary's breast. The imagination of
the Christian community later caught this contrast and embodied it in
the legend that when Jesus crossed the border of Egypt, all the idols of
the land of Egypt fell down.

We cannot follow the thought of the Blessed Mother through these strange
scenes and the experiences of these days. No doubt in the Jewish
communities already flourishing in Egypt there would be welcome and the
means of livelihood. But there would be perplexing questions to one
whose habit it was to keep all things which concerned her strange Child
hidden in her heart, the subject of constant meditation. Why, after the
divine action which had been so constant from His conception to His
birth, and in the circumstances which attended His birth, this reversal,
this defeat and flight? Why after Bethlehem, Egypt? Why after
Gabriel, Herod?

It brings us back again to the primary fact that the Incarnation is
essentially a stage in a battle, and that the nature of God's battles is
such that He constantly appears to lose them. He "goes forth as a giant
to run His course"; but the eyes of man cannot see the giant--they see
only a Babe laid in a manger. We are tricked by our notion of what
is powerful.

"They all were looking for a king
To slay their foes and lift them high;
Thou cam'st, a little baby thing
That made a woman cry."

The battle presents itself to us as a demand that we choose, that we
take sides. The demand of Christ is that we associate ourselves with
Him, or that we define our position as on the other side. "The
friendship of the world is enmity with God" is a saying that is true
when reversed: The friendship of God is enmity with the world. An open
disclosure of the friendship of God sets all the powers of the world
against us. This may be uncomfortable; but there does not appear to be
any way of avoiding the opposition.

Our Lord, in His Incarnation, not only stripped Himself of