Spurgeon, "Christ's Incarnation, the Foundation of Christianity"

How surprised the ANGELS must have been when they were
first informed that Jesus Christ, the Prince of life,
intended to shroud Himself in clay, and become a human
babe, and live and die upon the earth!

We don't know how the information was first communicated
to the angels; but when the rumor began to circulate among
the shining hosts, we may imagine what strange wonderment
there was in their lofty minds.

What! was it true that HE, whose crown was all
bejewelled with stars, would lay that crown aside?
What! was it certain that HE, about whose shoulders
was cast the purple robe of universal sovereignty,
would become a man, dressed in a peasant's garment?
Could it be true that HE, who was everlasting
and immortal, would one day be nailed to a cross?!

How their wonderment must have increased as the details
of the Savior's life and death were made known to them.
Well might they desire to "look into" these things,
which were so surprising and mysterious to them.

And when He descended from on high, they followed Him;
for Jesus was "seen of angels," and seen in a very special
sense; for they looked upon Him in rapturous amazement,
wondering what it could mean when He, "who was RICH,
for our sakes became POOR."

Do you see Him as, on that day of Heaven's eclipse,
He did, as it were, ungird Himself of His majesty?
Can you conceive the increasing wonder of the heavenly
hosts when the great deed was actually done, when they saw
His priceless tiara taken off, when they watched Him unbind
His girdle of stars, and cast away His sandals of gold?

Can you conceive what must have been the astonishment of the
angels when He said to them, "I do not disdain the womb of
the virgin; I am going down to earth to become a man"?

And now wonder, you angels, as you see

He, upon whose shoulders the universe does hang,
hangs at His mother's breast!

He, who created all things by the word of His power, and
who bears up the pillars of creation, has now become so
weak that He must be carried in the arms of a woman!

Wonder, you angels that knew Him in His RICHES,
while you behold Him in His POVERTY!

Where SLEEPS the newborn King?
Has He the best room in Caesar's palace? Has a cradle of
gold been prepared for Him, and pillows of down, on which
to rest His head? No! in the dilapidated stable where the
oxen stood, and in the manger where they fed- there the
Savior lies, swathed in the swaddling bands of the children
of poverty!

Nor does He rest long there; on a sudden, His mother must
carry Him to Egypt; He must go there, and become a stranger
in a strange land. When He came back, and grew up at Nazareth,
the angels must have marveled to see HIM THAT MADE THE WORLDS
handle the hammer and the nails, assisting His reputed father
in the trade of a carpenter!