Frailty

Its three days before Christmas and I find myself asking the same question I’ve contemplated each year for as long as I can remember.  As I sit here, far too late on a Sunday night – Monday morning – it is my annual spiritual/mental wrestling match.  Not with God.  With myself.    

 

Why did the Son of God have to come in the way He did?  Homeless.  Dirty.  Poor.  Disgraced. 

Why?

Do I have the answer?  No.  Not really.  I know what the Bible says.  I know the theological discourses.  Still, that is not why I think I know the answer.  It’s far simpler.  I know what I know by what I’ve…not felt, that sounds too emotional…experienced. 

Grace – the willingness of the mighty crafter of time and space to step into my circumstances, wrap himself in human flesh, and live the difficult life of a “Genesis 3” human being.  All without falling to any of the temptations that so easily ensnare us.  He was one of us, without failing like one of us.

You see this is not what we were made for.  We were not made for frailty and weakness of heart.  We were not made to toil and fight the earth for our daily bread.  We were not destined to decay and die. 

We were made to walk in communion with the King of the Universe.  We were made to walk and talk with the Holy Ruler of Heaven.  We were made to be with him.

Instead, we blew it.  You see through Adam we all have fallen. (Romans 5:12).  And I know that we are sometimes tempted to think, “man, if I was in Adam’s shoes…I wouldn’t have done it.”  Really?  How many times did I have the chance to do the right thing today and choose the wrong.  Sometimes the more difficult wrong.  That is rebellion at its purest.

Of course we all have our reasons for rebelling.  Finances.  Disappointment.  Betrayal.  Failure.  Lust.  Greed.  Self-esteem.  You name it; someone somewhere has blamed their sin on it.  But, at the end of the day it is still the same choice.

Eat of the Tree of Life or eat of the Tree of Knowledge. 

And, sometimes we succeed and choose Life.  But, even the best of us still choose Knowledge…

David wanted to know Bathsheba.  (2 Samuel 11)  Moses wanted to know he helped the Israelite slave. (Exodus 2)  Peter wanted to know he was safe. (Matthew 26)

They all wanted to know something.  They all traded (at least momentarily) Life. Why?

So, another “why.”  But the answer to this question belies the answer to the initial question. 

They chose out of frailty.  Human frailty.  Broken, weak, but fixable.  Human frailty.

Paul called himself the chief of sinners (some days I know that I might not win the title hands down, but I sure could challenge).  (I Tim0thy 1:15-16)  But, Paul also said that the grace was sufficient for him, that the power of Christ was prefect in Paul’s weakness. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Did you see it?  Don’t miss it.  Paul (we) are frail.  Jesus (God) is Power. 

He did what He did so that He could show us – would we have really believed Him if He just told us – that He understood our frailty.  He does understand our frailty.  He lived in it for thirty-three years.  He became weakness so that He could show us the fullest extent of his power.  His life was a perfect life of choosing Life. Not merely because He had all knowledge, but because He understood the greatness of life as it was meant to be lived; life as Life.

And there it is.  I am frail.  I don’t always choose what I ought.  But Christ is perfect.  And this grace is the very thing that allows me to “grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ.”  (Ephesians 3:18) That same love that, despite my failings (and they are many) allows me to be “filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” (Ephesians 3:19)

So that is Christmas.  The Sovereign of All became the lowliest of all to show that we who are frail may be made perfect through Him.

So that He who was born perfect, who lived a flawless life, would die a sinner’s death.  So that redemption might come.  So that, even before the sacrifice, David the adulterer may still be called a man after His own heart.  So that Moses the murderer may lead the nation out of bondage.  So that Peter the disloyal disciple may be the rock upon which the church was built.  So that I may rise from my ashes to…well that is unwritten.  But, redemption is always available.  

So, this Christmas remember the homeless, dirty, poor, and disgraced Son of God sleeping in a feeding trough.  And then remember that for those who fall on His grace, we no longer remain homeless, dirty, poor, or disgraced.

Remember the grace that turns our frailty into might. 

Merry Christmas.