Name:
Email:
Posted: December 19th, 2007 at 1:21am By: Rev. Rebecca Schlatter
Recalling the "reason for the season" last week, an imagined conversation between God and some heavenly "advisers" reminded us why Jesus was born: to bridge the gap between God and humanity. Now I wonder: When those divine folks heard about how that was going to happen, perhaps they had the same reaction I sometimes have to God's plans: "God, couldn't you do this some other way?!"
Just imagine the reactions to God's announcement of becoming human. Perhaps there was confusion at first, say, from Jacob: "I thought if people saw you face to face, it would be so overpowering that they would die! Even wrestling with your angel was almost too much for me, and I'm a strong guy" (Genesis 32:22-30). Or from Elijah, reminding everyone of his encounter with God's "backside" (1 Kings 19:11-13).
Or from Moses: "I got close enough to you when you gave me the Ten Commandments (Exodus 19-20). Even that was almost too much, when you were hidden in the cloud! You're just too big for people to take in. How exactly is this going to work?"
Perhaps some advisers would get excited about the idea of God's power unleashed on humans directly: "Excellent! You'll go down there and overthrow all the bad rulers, you'll whip people into shape, and things will start working better down there. Finally! With all that power, you'll make a great Savior."
Jacob, Elijah and Moses are right, God acknowledges: "I am too big and powerful for people to take in. So, that's not how it's going to work. I'm not overthrowing anybody. That wouldn't bridge this gap. I need people to trust me. I need people to experience my love face to face. So, since I'm too big for them to reach me, I have to become small enough to reach them. Maybe once I walk in their shoes and they've seen me experience everything about their lives, they'll trust me enough to be close to me again."
But imagine the chorus of objections: "If you're becoming small, who's going to stay up here and rule the big ol' universe?" Even those divine folks probably couldn't explain it any better than we humans do — how God is big enough to be both places at once.
Then comes the million-dollar question: "So, God, what happens after you walk in people's shoes and get them to trust you? You live happily ever after with these creatures you love?"
Aye, there's the rub. God answers, "Not exactly. Then I suffer and die."
A dumbfounded silence.
God explains, "You know what humans are like — when someone who is perfect love walks among them, they won't understand, and they'll get scared. Then they'll get angry, and they'll kill me. You know, that's often what they do to people who preach and teach what Jesus will preach and teach. But don't worry; that still won't be the end of Jesus' story on earth. That'll be my name, you know. Jesus. Savior. Some will call me Emmanuel."
Isaiah perks up at the name: "Hey, I've heard that before. It means 'God with us.' It's perfect."
Still doubtful, the advisers are willing to wait and see what happens. But they ask for more information: "So, where are you going to show up? How about some palace, the Savior King from on high, come to earth with trumpets and stuff?"
"No, not that at all. Way too intimidating. Remember, it's all about becoming small enough so they can know and trust me. It's very subtle. They'll have to pay close attention to know it's me, but some of them will be able to recognize me, and they'll tell the others. I'm thinking, a baby in a manger."
Could God have done it some other way? Probably. But there's a reason that the baby in the manger made sense to my Christian forebears, like Martin Luther (quoted in "Martin Luther's Christmas Book"):
"Look upon the baby Jesus. Divinity may terrify man. Inexpressible majesty will crush him. That is why Christ took on our humanity, save for sin, that he should not terrify us but rather that with love and favor he should console and confirm."
Apparently God has always had a good "reason for the season."
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.
Permalink
Recalling the "reason for the season" last week, an imagined conversation between God and some heavenly "advisers" reminded us why Jesus was born: to bridge the gap between God and humanity. Now I wonder: When those divine folks heard about how that was going to happen, perhaps they had the same reaction I sometimes have to God's plans: "God, couldn't you do this some other way?!"
Just imagine the reactions to God's announcement of becoming human. Perhaps there was confusion at first, say, from Jacob: "I thought if people saw you face to face, it would be so overpowering that they would die! Even wrestling with your angel was almost too much for me, and I'm a strong guy" (Genesis 32:22-30). Or from Elijah, reminding everyone of his encounter with God's "backside" (1 Kings 19:11-13).
Or from Moses: "I got close enough to you when you gave me the Ten Commandments (Exodus 19-20). Even that was almost too much, when you were hidden in the cloud! You're just too big for people to take in. How exactly is this going to work?"
Perhaps some advisers would get excited about the idea of God's power unleashed on humans directly: "Excellent! You'll go down there and overthrow all the bad rulers, you'll whip people into shape, and things will start working better down there. Finally! With all that power, you'll make a great Savior."
Jacob, Elijah and Moses are right, God acknowledges: "I am too big and powerful for people to take in. So, that's not how it's going to work. I'm not overthrowing anybody. That wouldn't bridge this gap. I need people to trust me. I need people to experience my love face to face. So, since I'm too big for them to reach me, I have to become small enough to reach them. Maybe once I walk in their shoes and they've seen me experience everything about their lives, they'll trust me enough to be close to me again."
But imagine the chorus of objections: "If you're becoming small, who's going to stay up here and rule the big ol' universe?" Even those divine folks probably couldn't explain it any better than we humans do — how God is big enough to be both places at once.
Then comes the million-dollar question: "So, God, what happens after you walk in people's shoes and get them to trust you? You live happily ever after with these creatures you love?"
Aye, there's the rub. God answers, "Not exactly. Then I suffer and die."
A dumbfounded silence.
God explains, "You know what humans are like — when someone who is perfect love walks among them, they won't understand, and they'll get scared. Then they'll get angry, and they'll kill me. You know, that's often what they do to people who preach and teach what Jesus will preach and teach. But don't worry; that still won't be the end of Jesus' story on earth. That'll be my name, you know. Jesus. Savior. Some will call me Emmanuel."
Isaiah perks up at the name: "Hey, I've heard that before. It means 'God with us.' It's perfect."
Still doubtful, the advisers are willing to wait and see what happens. But they ask for more information: "So, where are you going to show up? How about some palace, the Savior King from on high, come to earth with trumpets and stuff?"
"No, not that at all. Way too intimidating. Remember, it's all about becoming small enough so they can know and trust me. It's very subtle. They'll have to pay close attention to know it's me, but some of them will be able to recognize me, and they'll tell the others. I'm thinking, a baby in a manger."
Could God have done it some other way? Probably. But there's a reason that the baby in the manger made sense to my Christian forebears, like Martin Luther (quoted in "Martin Luther's Christmas Book"):
"Look upon the baby Jesus. Divinity may terrify man. Inexpressible majesty will crush him. That is why Christ took on our humanity, save for sin, that he should not terrify us but rather that with love and favor he should console and confirm."
Apparently God has always had a good "reason for the season."
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.
Permalink
Add your comments