Jesus was Broken
Indeed, he was. I don't mean in the sense that when he was nailed to the cross he exclaimed, “My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me?” Instead, I mean that Jesus was broken from birth.
Before we go getting into a big theological argument over the perfection of Christ, let me clarify what I mean. I don't mean Christ was sinful or that he was imperfect in how he lived morally. But, I do believe that he entered into this world and lived in a way that none would have imagined, at a level that most of us modern-day humans would consider weak.
That is one of the things I love about the Christmas season. In the revelation of God, the cracks of humanity show through. God born to a virgin? I bet that was the talk of the town! There is no lineage or great power that Jesus came through. He was born in a manger - a worn-out cattle stall - because there was no room at the inn. He was a carpenter's son, your average Joe. And, he mixed and mingled with, not only the commoner, but with prostitutes and tax collectors - the worst of his day.
No matter how we portray the baby Jesus in a manger, with a glowing head, kings bowing down to worship, or the Magi following the star, there were few indications at the birth of Jesus that he was God. To an outsider, his arrival was very broken.
We build up this holiday with gifts, lights, trees and beautiful decorations. Instead, I wonder if we should be looking at the areas of life that are broken, unglamorous and wrecked. I think we have so much to learn from those people and things that we tend to push aside, especially at the holidays. If God spoke through the broken at Jesus' birth, then what would compel Him to speak any other way now?
Today, we let the commercials speak. We let the value of gifts speak to our love for others. We let our busyness and our activities speak for the joy of the season.
We eat, drink and celebrate as if this holiday focused around a great king and a feast for the ages. That is the dichotomy of it. We should celebrate, we should feast, and we should proclaim the arrival of the King.
Sometimes I think we try to ignore the brokenness of the entire event, though.
Now, I am one who likes to hide brokenness and the messiness of life if it all possible. That is part of my story of growing up with a disability. I have always wanted to wear clothes that you cannot see have special adaptations made to them. I've worked so hard to overcome obstacles, just to prove that I am one of you. I live on my own, with no apparent barriers in my way, an independent adult. And, I was raised to be “normal” - meaning unbroken, in how I heard it.
Maybe that's why I love the broken story of Christmas now. Over the past several years I have struggled and wrestled with my story in ways that I had ignored for nearly three decades. I have come to see my own cracks, my brokenness, the ways in which I will never be “normal”. I've come to own my disability in ways I never thought I would. With that, I have come to see my own brokenness better and to see it in others as well.
It gives me hope, though, that even God was broken in his creation and arrival upon this earth.
So, on this first week of Advent, let us keep an eye and an ear out for the cracked and broken around us. For it is most likely in these areas apparent areas of weakness that we will see and hear God the most.
A Mysterious Manger
In reflecting back on 2009, I am left with one word that has played a more significant role in my life than any other this year: mystery. Although the word applies to many facets of my life recently, it has been particularly true of my interpretation of God and our relationship.
Although I’ve spent the last several years asking questions about my birth and the “why”s that go with that, this is the first year that I can honestly say that I’ve had that conversation directly with God. And, it is the first time that I’ve presented some of that questioning in such an open, public manner. I’m glad I’ve engaged in these areas; yet, I can tell you that none of my questions have been answered -- or at least answered in a manner that I am currently satisfied with.
That’s the thing about God. His ways are extremely mysterious to me.
But, that’s not all bad. The thing I’ve come to realize about God is that I am engaged in a relationship with him – times of ups and downs, times that require work, times of contentment and times of extreme frustration. As is true with a solid relationship, though, I’m realizing it can bear these fluctuations in emotions.
I don’t need God to answer all my questions, just to be confident that he hears them and to know that there are times that he weeps alongside me.
Christmas brings us a fascinatingly mysterious story. Yet, it’s a story that I feel we’ve tried our best to take the mystery out of. Images from our nativity sets show a clean manger lined with fresh straw, Mary and Joseph with smiles on their faces and Jesus sleeping quietly.
Silent Night? Holy Night? I’m wondering if, in that moment, Mary and Joseph would have named the night as such.
Imagine the tumultuous travel that would be inherent for a woman nearing birth while riding on a donkey. The frustration of being denied access to an inn – on a night Mary would give birth, nonetheless. And, I can only imagine that Mary’s mouth was not only shouting blessings to heaven as she lay there birthing a child in a damp, stinky manger that had been used to house animals.
There are so many pieces to this story that do not make sense – so much so that you can only think that the facts are true, because no one would make up a story this crazy to introduce the Son of God!
Think about these few basic pieces of the narrative that make up the Christmas story:
- A virgin giving birth
- No room at the Inn in Joseph’s hometown of Bethlehem, leaving the birth of Jesus to be held in an empty stable
- Angels appearing to sheperds, telling them, "Do not be afraid"
- A new star in the sky lighting the way for the Wise Men to find Jesus
- Herod demanding that all males be killed at the time of Jesus’ birth
This is crazy, mysterious stuff! There’s no way around it. As much as you sing soft, quiet hymns, dim the lights and light candles in the room for a Christmas Eve service, I simply can’t get away from the absolute insanity of this story.
As a friend recently told me, though, God’s insanity is far better than man’s knowledge.
No, God does not make sense to me – but I’m not sure he was meant to. For centuries he has made himself known to humans in a way that few comprehend. So, why should I expect that to change for me?
God seems crazy. His ways appear insane. And, his methods are often mysterious.
That’s fine with me, though. To be honest, I’m not sure I’d like some of the answers that would be offered to in response to my questions anyway!
I commit
The weather has dramatically changed in Seattle these past few days, with clouds, rain, wind and thunderstorms rolling through the area. I'm sad to see the sun and warmer weather go, but I'm excited for a new season. It's football season! A season of limited daylight and turbulent weather. A slower season for me personally, without a grad school class until Spring quarter. A time for me to read, take a cooking class, commune with friends and to wrestle with God.
This past month and a half has been a busy and stressful time for me. And, you've likely noticed that my posts have been sparse. There are certainly seasons in life and this is one that I'm glad to be done with.
This changing season opens up new opportunities and challenges for me. Here are a couple I want you to know about so that we can continue on this journey together:
1. I commit to write at least one blog post per week. Hopefully it will be more frequent than that, but there will be one per week at a minimum. This is a challenge that my friend and colleague, Jeff Brooks, gave me a several days ago as we discussed the discipline of writing and story-telling -- and I think it's a wise step for me to take.
I'm really enjoying writing this blog and admittedly, through conversations with you all, I'm starting to have dreams and thoughts about how my story might have a bigger impact on others. Whether a vocation or not, I'm seeing how God works through my words as I share my story. Writing more and telling my story is an intimidating prospect for sure; but creating one post per week is a way for me to "steer my elephant" by taking small, actionable steps every week. At the end of one year I'll have written 52 posts -- surely enough words and thoughts to use as a skeleton to a memoir or some form of a book.
2. Additionally, I commit to God to wrestle with Him more. If there is one thing that is exceptionally clear to me these past few months it is that I've failed to fully engage in the emotions and frustrations that apprehend me daily as a man born without arms. Wes Stafford, the President & CEO of Compassion International, spoke at the Willow Creek Leadership Conference last month and his topic was leading through the pain of your past. He told a very disturbing and moving story of his childhood as a missionary kid in Africa and how that exceptional pain has compelled him to commit his life to helping children. "No one cares what you know until they know why you care," he said. Well, the reason I care about the issues of disability (that I've begun to explore here) is that God created me with a body that makes my life difficult at times. And, in that alone, there are many questions.
Guaranteed, some of that wrestling with God will spill out into this blog. There are areas of my life that are very sensitive and those will remain between Him and I for now. But, I want this space to serve as a realistic and honest place. I could easily create an entire blog that radiated with hope and that literally glowed with optimism. People love that stuff and, honestly, it's a simple message that the church eats up! But, that's not my life -- and I doubt it's your reality, either. Because of that, I must wrestle with God as Jacob did. Welcome to ringside!
Finally, Sunday evening will be my deadline for the weekly post. So check back every Monday and expect to see something new. I hope you'll continue to interact with what I explore here, as that's the part I enjoy the most. And, feel free to wrestle through life's issues and struggles with me.
The season is changing to Fall -- and that's where simple beliefs die and blow away in preparation for a future season of growth and possibility. Let the rains come and the winds blow.
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