Much has transpired over the past few years when I struggled staying consistent and diligent in posting my thoughts on various topics, including some very personal struggles. I appreciate everyone's willingness to read, comment and encourage during that long, difficult season of life. My journal and this blog served as a way to express what was going on within the depths of my soul. My intention was not to be a downer. My intention was to wrestle through the confusion and inner turmoil in hopes of personally working through depression as well as encouraging others regardless of their mental state. If it helped, then I am grateful to Christ for granting me the courage to share it even as I trembled putting such words and thoughts out there for all to see. Exposing one's heart is incredibly dangerous as you are putting yourself out there for all to see and opening yourself up to criticism and judgment. But I have nothing to hide before anyone, especially God.
Recently, I came across a quote from the late and legendary Ernest Hemingway. He writes, "The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places." I assume when he references the world, he is subtly referring to our lives within our world. Even so, this is a profound thought. I immediately copied and pasted this sentiment as soon as I came upon it as it is not only powerful, but definitely sermon worthy. As the church, and I personally, have entered the beautiful and expectant season of Advent, this statement continues to reverberate in my conscience.
Advent is a season of expectation and hope ultimately leading us to that little podunk, overlooked town called Bethlehem where the Lord of Glory broke into human history in the Christ child. While we would love to cast all sorts of doubt about His divinity, everyone would be foolish to think that this child in the manger (that stanky hole in the earth where animals feasted on their daily slop) had no effect upon our world. Regardless of how hard you try, we are continuously being invited back to that manger whether we accept the invitation or not. Yet even while we marvel at our enlightened, arrogant, human centered understanding of the world, the church has continued to proclaim that the infant in the manger was God with flesh and blood, skin and bones. The Divine became enfleshed in the simple and ordinary. For centuries, the church has not relented on this bold, mysterious and sacred proclamation.
The God who flung creation into being enters the human and cosmic predicament.
The God who breathed His life giving Spirit into the dust of the earth to create humanity, becomes human Himself.
God fully and completely identifies and engages in solidarity with....us.
A few weeks back I sat in the surgical waiting room with the wife of a man in our church undergoing a pretty serious heart procedure. We made small talk, laughed a bit and conversed about the seriousness of the operation. She spoke of her trust in God throughout this process. But as I looked in her eyes, I saw concern. I saw uncertainty. I saw fear. After a bit of a break in the conversation, I looked at her gently saying "It's okay. It's okay to be afraid and uncertain." In the very instant I spoke those words, tears came to her eyes. In tears she reached out to hold my hand while promptly saying "Thank you."
This vulnerable moment culminating in her "Thank you" revealed a great truth. The truth that the greatest gift people have to share with each other is their humanity. Giving people the space and freedom to be human is a sacred act. When we speak of Christmas, we immediately refer to God coming to save us through the cross. We move from the manger to the cross in what seems like .4 seconds.
But what if we stayed at the manger this Christmas? Ironic that the church celebrates Christmas Day and quickly moves to whats next on the agenda. Yet according to the liturgical calendar, Christmas is literally a twelve day celebration.
What if during those twelve days we stayed at the manger?
What if we beheld the child proclaimed as the God-man?
And what if in doing that we realized the beauty of God affirming our humanity and entering solidarity with the plight of humanity?
What if we brought all of our tears, brokenness, uncertainty, fear to the manger and in silence heard the voice of Christ whisper "I know. I'm here. It's going to be ok"?
As the world has broken us time and again, we recognize that the world will end up breaking this child.
But it is precisely at his weakest, most vulnerable point, that He is at His strongest.
When Christmas Day finally arrives, may we bring our honest selves before the Christ child in the manger.
May we wait.
May we draw strength from the God who affirms our humanity.
And may we allow God to thrust us out to into the world so that we may be "strong in the broken places" for others as He was for us.
