Qui Conceptus est de Spiritu Sancto, Natus ex Maria Virgine (Conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary)

Qui Conceptus est de Spiritu Sancto,

Natus ex Maria Virgine (Conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary)

The afternoon arrives,

The air tastes of rain.

I reach the next line:

Conceived by the Holy Spirit,

born of the Virgin Mary.

The infinite breathes into the finite.

Spirit hovers again—

as in the beginning,

but now over a young woman’s yes.

No temple,

no throne,

only the quiet chamber

of a womb.

Theotokos,

God-bearer,

her consent becomes creation’s hinge.

Divinity curls

into the smallness of a zygote,

cells dividing,

hands one day to touch the untouchable

forming in the dark.

The Spirit overshadows her—

not with splendour,

but with tenderness.

The Word becomes flesh

in secret,

in silence,

in the warmth of

blood and heartbeat.

Nine months of holy hiddenness.

He grows,

veins shimmering like constellations

beneath translucent skin;

bones hardening,

lungs waiting to breathe

the dust of the world.

Then the pain begins.

The waters break.

The body opens to mystery,

making space for God.

Mary cries out.

God gasps.

He whom the angels worship—

God-Man,

Word made flesh—

journeys through the birth canal,

blood and breath,

into the arms of the world.

The first breath:

a cry,

a sound between life and need.

The Spirit who hovered

now fills those tiny lungs.

The world tilts toward mercy.

He is laid upon her chest,

rooted to her warmth.

Milk flows—

miracle slow.

The Creator of the cosmos

feeds at a human breast.

Here omnipotence learns to depend.

Here eternity suckles time.

Here the Creator sleeps,

held in the arms of His creation.

And I believe

that the kingdom begins in vulnerability,

that holiness wears flesh,

that heaven entered

through the body of a woman.

The Spirit still hovers.

Mary still sings.

And the Word still becomes flesh

in those who dare to say yes.

Rev’d Jon Swales

from Creed Collection