I think I fell in love with Jake listening to him talk about
the Incarnation. Whenever he does, his eyes lights up; starts using his hands
to talk, and excitement fills his voice. “We have an all-powerful God, lacking
nothing, completely perfect, who emptied himself to come and be with us,” he’ll
say. “He came to walk with us, to heal us, as one of us.” He pushes his hands
away from his chest, outreached, when he says “emptied himself.”
Jake gets it. He’s grasped the magnitude of the gospel, and he’s been captivated by Jesus. Jake has seen the character of God embodied in the man Christ, whose very existence screams of God’s grace, love, and humble decision to make himself little for our sake.
“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation… in him the fullness of the Deity was pleased to dwell.” Colossians 1:15
I love this scripture, because it verifies that Jesus was not God in disguise, he was God on display.
And who was Jesus? A defender of the weak, a healer of the wounded, a man who gave himself completely for the sake of others: in life, and in death. He was Immanuel: "God with us."
I was recently reading John 7, which describes a woman who
is caught in the act of adultery. Note: she’s not just an adulteress, she is
literally committing adultery when
she’s found out. She’s drug out of bed and into the street to be buried
waste-high, where religious men will pummel her with rocks until she dies.
This, by the way, was lawful according to Jewish law. These men are justified
by a written code that exists in their day to do what they are doing.
Jesus observes this happening and says something that re-directs the thinking of these religious “disciplinarians.” “Let he who is without sin be the first to throw the stone at her.” Wow. As in, "If the punishment for sin is death, it ought to apply to you, too. But if you’re expecting grace for your sins, you have no right to withhold it from anyone else. You are a sinner, just like she is." We are all equally in need of redemption, of healing, and of new life.
They walk away, one by one, dropping their stones in humble realization. Once the bullies are gone, Jesus turns to the frightened woman and asks her, “Woman, where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you?” The woman, who is no doubt amazed at this point, answers, “no one, sir.” And Jesus answers, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more.” He reaches down, lifts her head, frees her of her guilt, shame, and condemnation, and gives her a chance at new life.
You can be sure of this one thing: Jesus is not afraid of a mess. He was born to an unmarried, poverty-stricken 14 year old Palestinian girl in a barn. He lived as a homeless man, he touched lepers and “unclean” people, he bent down and washed his friend’s dirty feet. He was not afraid of a mess then and is not now, not even our mess. We don’t get “cleaned up” in order to come to Jesus, we don’t need to get our lives in order before we dawn his door. He comes to us, as we are, and he cleans us. He offers us entrance into his family.
He made all the worlds in the entire universe. His hand holds together the pressures in my brain as I write this, the temperatures of stars, and the tide of the ocean. That God bent down, emptied himself of all but love, and touched us. Small, scared, in need of him. He came to us. Protected us, laughed with us. Gave us a chance at new life and new birth. This is my God, who loves without end, who even forgives.
