Tomorrow is Epiphany.  Far, far away from Palestine, thousands of miles, culturally, from the world of ancient Israel, ensconced in the mountains of Persia, assorted people studied sacred scriptures, Jewish, Zoroastrian, and more.  Day and night, they labored over the texts before them, looking for guidance from God as to what would come.

     And what would come?  God.  God would come to earth.  And when God comes, he would be, these scholars realized, human and divine.  Small wonder that they made the arduous journey over the Zagros Mountains, across the arid expanse of Arabia, and onto the international trade routes that coursed through the Levant.  Who would have imagined such a thing?
     Ah, some might say, indeed:  how is this possible?  How can this be?  It's nonsensical, illogical.
     On the one hand, I suppose it is.  Yet I do not know how else to explain why we are the way we are, why we are personal, why we have consciousness, why we have purpose and desire.  We do not prove we are worthwhile because we insist we are worthwhile:  a circular argument to be sure.  We rather affirm our dignity by establishing the fact of a purposeful world.
     And that we cannot do without God.