Faith

Categories Following Christ, Relationships

The Difference Thanks Makes

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As we get close to November and start thinking towards Thanksgiving (and before the 30-Day Thankfulness Challenges start popping up on Facebook), I’ve been noticing thankfulness in daily life.

Now, I usually think of thankfulness in terms of thankfulness to God – and generally get frustrated when the focus is on thankfulness towards other people (don’t even get me started on what I think of how “the pilgrims gave thanks to the Indians on the first thanksgiving.”)

And thankfulness to God is essential. He is, after all, the source of every good gift (See James 1:17).

But being thankful to God doesn’t preclude thankfulness to others. In fact, I think thanking God should naturally flow out into thanking others. As I become aware of God’s gifts, I become aware of how he uses others as gifts in my life. That’s when I can give thanks, like Paul did in Romans 16:3-4: “Greet Prisca and Aquila, my fellow workers in Christ Jesus, who risked their necks for my life, to whom not only I give thanks but all the churches of the Gentiles give thanks as well.”

Recognizing that God never commands being thankful to anyone other than Himself, I still think that thankfulness to others can be a powerful part of the Christian life. Why?

Because even if we aren’t commanded to be thankful to others, we are commanded to encourage one another (See 1 Thessalonians 5:11, 14). And thankfulness is hugely encouraging.

Because even if we aren’t commanded to be thankful to others, we are commanded to love one another (See John 13:34-35, Romans 12:10, Ephesians 5:2 and others). And thankfulness is nothing if not loving.

The best example I can think of for thankfulness to others (and how it encourages and demonstrates love) is my husband.

I cook dinner for us almost every evening, and it almost never fails that sometime, in the course of the meal or the evening, Daniel will thank me for making dinner.

When I make a phone call or post a letter or run an errand for Daniel, he makes sure to thank me – verbally, in a text, in an email.

I sometimes often get discouraged with my housekeeping abilities or my time-management skills or a dozen other real or perceived faults. And almost always, Daniel’s response is thanks.

“Thank you for taking care of our daughter all day.”

“Thank you for doing dishes.”

“Thank you for folding the laundry.”

“Thank you for growing us tomatoes.”

“Thank you for listening to me.”

It’s not big things that he’s thanking me for. If I chose, I could brush off his thanks with a “no problem.” And those things aren’t a problem (usually). But that’s not the point.

The point is that when he thanks me, I feel encouraged. I feel strengthened. I feel loved.

That is the difference thanks makes.

And it challenges me to do the same for others.

Categories Book Notes, Following Christ

C.S. Lewis to Bloggers

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In his masterful turn-the-world-upside-down book The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis has his diabolical character Screwtape write the following:

“It remains to consider how we can retrieve this disaster. The great thing is to prevent his doing anything. As long as he does not convert [his conviction and subsequent remorse] into action, it does not matter how much he thinks about this new repentance. Let the little brute wallow in it. Let him, if he has any bent that way, write a book about it; that is often an excellent way of sterilising the seeds which the Enemy plants in a human soul. Let him do anything but act.”

I felt the sting as I read.

But will I convert the conviction of the Lord into obedience?

“But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing.”

~James 1:22-25 (ESV)

Categories Following Christ

Legalism and Lawlessness

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Suppose you were six years old and your parents had just given you some new boundaries for riding your bike.

You could ride from one next door neighbor’s driveway to the other next door neighbor’s driveway – a distance spanning approximately two yard widths.

Elated to learn your new boundaries, you hop and your bike and ride as fast as you can to the far edge of your next door neighbor’s driveway – and sit there looking at the next driveway down until your mother calls you in for dinner.

Ridiculous, right?

So what about this one?

Given the same boundaries, you reason that if you get on your bike and start riding down the sidewalk you might not be able to stop and turn in time to avoid outriding your boundaries. So you get on your bike and sit in the center of your own driveway until your mother calls you in for dinner.

Equally ridiculous.

When I was six (or whatever age I was) and those were my boundaries, I’ll tell you what I did. I got on my bike and rode from one driveway to another and back again. Over and over and over again until my mother called me in for dinner.

I trusted that my mother meant what she said when she gave me those boundaries. I trusted that meant I wouldn’t go wrong as long as I was inside them – and that something would go wrong if I was outside them. And so I fully enjoyed life within those boundaries (except the times when I didn’t – because even six-year-old me was a sinner, who sometimes thought life was better outside her boundaries – but that’s neither here nor there as this example goes).

The above scenarios are what I think of when I see Christians who don’t seem to know how to get together without drinking alcohol. They’re what I think of when I see Christians who want to forbid anyone from drinking alcohol lest they cross the line from drinking to drunk.

The above scenarios are what I think of when I see Christians who only listen to secular music. They’re what I think of when I see Christians who get upset because any other Christian is listening to secular music.

My little scenarios are simplistic, I know.

A wise little girl would recognize that she needs a certain amount of space in which to turn – so she leaves herself that space when approaching the boundary. And a wise Christian recognizes that if she has a personal or family history of alcoholism, she may need to abstain.

A loving little girl might recognize that her three-year-old brother has more constricted boundaries than she – so she might choose to play with her brother inside his own boundaries rather than pushing on to play where she legitimately may.

But it seems to me that, so long as I am neither going against my own conscience nor offending my brother, God is glorified when I fully enjoy everything within the boundaries – neither confining myself to the fence nor to the point farthest from the fence.

Categories Theology

God of Judgment, God of Grace

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“In the Old Testament, God reveals himself as a God of Judgment. In the New Testament, God reveals himself as a God of Grace.”

If I had a dollar for every time I’d heard a well-intentioned Christian say something to that effect…

But wait.

I’m pretty sure I’ve said something to that effect.

The problem is, it’s wrong.

Or, at least, it’s incomplete.

God does indeed reveal himself as a God of Grace in the New Testament. But that doesn’t mean He fails to reveal himself as a God of Judgment.

God does indeed reveal himself as a God of Judgment in the Old Testament. But that doesn’t mean He fails to reveal himself as a God of Grace.

I’ve been thrilled to be teaching the Old Testament to three-year-olds in Sunday School this year. It’s great. I love the Old Testament. I love teaching the Old Testament.

And what’s struck me about the Old Testament this time around is that I haven’t yet seen an example of God’s judgment without His Mercy.

When Adam and Eve ate the poisonous fruit, God’s judgment on them meant death and banishment from the garden. Yet in God’s mercy, He promised a Savior and the ultimate destruction of their enemy the snake.

When Cain killed Abel, God’s judgment on Cain meant an end to his livelihood and a lifetime of wandering. Yet in God’s mercy, He set a mark on Cain to protect him from his greatest fear – that whoever found him would kill him.

When the people were so wicked that God could stand it no longer, God’s judgment on the world meant a flood that destroyed all people but eight. Yet in God’s mercy, He preserved eight – and promised to never again destroy the earth in that way (despite man’s evil continuing to provoke His anger.)

When humanity set themselves against God and sought to build a tower to display their own glory, God’s judgment meant confusing their language and their plans. Yet their punishment was God’s mercy, giving them a second opportunity to be obedient – to fill the earth and subdue it.

When Sodom and Gomorrah committed great atrocities before God, God’s judgment meant raining down fire and brimstone on them. Yet in God’s mercy, He let Abraham haggle with him over the fate of the city, promising to save the cities if even ten righteous men could be found. But even when ten righteous could not be found, God’s mercy saved the family of the one righteous man.

The New Testament really only requires one proof text – but it’s the proof text around which every other text hangs. God’s mercy meant pardoning sinful rebels. But his judgment meant pronouncing a death sentence on His Son.

God’s grace meant imputing His Son’s righteousness to wretches. His judgment meant nailing His Son to the cross for the wretches’ sin.

If you think that the Old Testament tells only of God’s judgment, read again.

If you think that the New Testament tells only of God’s grace, read again.

For wherever God reveals Himself, He reveals Himself as the Judge and the Justifier – the awful and the merciful.

“But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law, although the Law and the Prophets bear witness to it— the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God’s righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. It was to show his righteousness at the present time, so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.”
~Romans 3:22-26 (ESV)

Categories Book Notes, Following Christ

Down from the mountain

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When I was in high school, our youth group talked about “mountaintop experiences”.

Mountaintop experiences were when we had some sort of emotional experience with God or His word, usually at a camp or other special event. We would get all hyped up about one thing or another – evangelism, personal holiness, being in the word, whatever.

I don’t remember if we had any direct teaching on the Biblical basis for the term, but it hearkened to Moses on the mountaintop receiving revelation from the Lord or to Peter and James and John seeing Christ transfigured on the mountain. Away from people on the mountaintop, each of these had very special encounters with God.

And each of these ran into difficulties when they returned from the mountaintop to face everday life. Moses found the camp worshipping a golden calf. The disciples came down to discover their compatriots unable to cast out a demon.

We were given warnings about life off the mountaintop. We were warned that we’d come home from camp only to be tempted to get into a fight with our parents. And, amazingly enough, the warnings were usually right. It was a lot harder to be obedient, to be in the Word, to tell others about Christ once we were back in everyday life, once we had to clean our rooms and do our homework and get along with our siblings.

I was struck, as I re-read The Silver Chair last month for the Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge, that Lewis describes a mountaintop experience as well – and describes the difficulty of coming down from the mountain.

Jill meets Aslan on a vast plateau that sits high, high, high above the land of Narnia. She receives a task from Aslan: to find the lost prince of Narnia. And she receives four signs by which to complete the task.

Before Aslan blows Jill off the mountaintop to meet Eustace, he gives her a last warning – a warning about life off the mountaintop.

“Stand still. In a moment I will blow. But, first, remember, remember, remember the signs. Say them to yourself when you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when you wake in the middle of the night. And whatever strange things may happen to you, let nothing turn your mind from following the signs. And secondly, I give you a warning. Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly: I will not often do so in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect them to look, when you meet them there. That is why it is so important to know them by heart and pay no attention to appearances. Remember the signs and believe the signs. Nothing else matters. And now, daughter of Eve, farewell — “

Aslan gives two instructions on leaving the mountaintop, but they are really one.

“Remember, remember, remember,” Aslan said. Lewis has Aslan almost quote the words following the Hebrew shema in Deuteronomy 6:

“And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.”

~Deuteronomy 6:6-9 (ESV)

Aslan was telling Jill that she needed to remember what he had spoken. She needed to repeat his words to herself multiple times a day. She needed to return to his word again and again and again.

“Let nothing turn your mind”, Aslan said. He was telling Jill that she needed to purpose to be obedient to Aslan’s word. What’s more, she needed to keep on purposing to do Aslan’s word, whatever the inducements otherwise.

“Take great care that it does not confuse your mind,” Aslan said. He was telling Jill that she needed to guard against distraction. I am reminded first of Titus 3:9 (I’m in Titus now, so that’s on my mind quite a bit), where Paul warns the Cretans: “But avoid foolish controversies, genealogies, dissensions, and quarrels about the law, for they are unprofitable and worthless.” When Jill told bits of their quest to the lady of the green kirtle, she laughed them off with what seemed like enlightened words, dismissing Aslan’s words as myths. Eventually, under the power of the lady’s smoke, she would make Jill and her companions doubt that life above the ground even exists. Confusion was everywhere – but Jill needed to guard against distractions from her purpose – and from what Aslan had said.

“Pay no attention to appearances,” Aslan said. He was telling Jill that she needed to value Aslan’s word above her interpretation. How easy would it have been for Jill to have paraphrased the third sign “You shall find a writing on a stone in that ruined city, and you must do what the writing tells you” as “Follow the directions on the stone sign”? Very easy, I think. And when she saw the words “Under me” inscribed on the stone? She would have been looking for a stone sign, not writing carved on the stone underfoot. She could have missed (and nearly did miss) what Aslan had directed if she’d allowed herself to fixate on her interpretation of the sign rather than the sign itself. The Pharisees of Jesus’ day did exactly that, fixating on what they thought the Messiah was supposed to be and missing the Messiah when He came. “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life.” (John 5:39-40 ESV)

Lewis’s advice, given by the mouth of Aslan, is good advice, I think, for those of us who live on this side of divine revelation. We have the signs, they are written in the Scriptures. But as we live our busy lives, if we are to live out the purposes for which God has called us, we must:

  • Remember what God has spoken
  • Purpose to be obedient to what God has spoken
  • Guard against distractions
  • Value God’s word above our interpretations

If we do these four things, I think we will avoid many of the traps that lie in store for us in this world down from the mountain.

Categories Theology

God’s Justice (2 Thessalonians 1:5-10)

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“This is evidence of the righteous judgment of God, that you may be considered worthy of the kingdom of God, for which you are also suffering— since indeed God considers it just to repay with affliction those who afflict you, and to grant relief to you who are afflicted as well as to us, when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with his mighty angels in flaming fire, inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God and on those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus. They will suffer the punishment of eternal destruction, away from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of his might, when he comes on that day to be glorified in his saints, and to be marveled at among all who have believed, because our testimony to you was believed.”

~2 Thessalonians 1:5-10 (ESV)

What does God consider just?

God considers it just to repay persecuters with affliction and to grant relief to the persecuted.

When will God repay the persecuters and grant relief to the persecuted?

God will repay the persecuters and grant relief to the persecuted when Christ Jesus returns.

How will God repay the persecuters?

The persecuters will suffer the punishment of eternal destruction away from the presence of the Lord and the glory of His might.

How will God grant relief to the persecuted?

The persecuted will be relieved as Christ is glorified in His saints and as Christ is marveled at among all who have believed.

I look at injustices and cry out for immediate judgement.

Make the wrongdoer’s pay. Make the victims restitution. Justice must be served.

Now.

That’s what I say.

God considers it just to wait to judge until Christ has returned.

“When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the witness they had borne. They cried out with a loud voice, ‘O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?’ Then they were each given a white robe and told to rest a little longer, until the number of their fellow servantsand their brothers should be complete, who were to be killed as they themselves had been.”

~Revelation 6:9-11 (ESV)

It can’t be right, waiting to judge.

But all God does is right. He is just to wait to judge.

“But by the same word the heavens and earth that now exist are stored up for fire, being kept until the day of judgment and destruction of the ungodly. But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed.”

~2 Peter 3:7 (ESV)

God is not slow. He is patient.

He is not unjust. He is merciful.

When His judgment comes, it is final. When His relief comes, it is sublime.

He is willing to wait, chooses to wait so that relief may come to as many as are called.

Categories Everyday Life, Faith

Powerful Dreams

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I watched paralyzed as she dunked my little brother again and again under the bathwater. He struggled and then went limp.

When at last she relented, he was alive but not alive.

My bundle-of-energy, always-sociable, never-without-a-grin-and-a-fresh-face-scrape brother was an automaton, going through the motions, but no longer with any sign of his former animation.

Then I awoke. It was two in the morning. I could check on him in his crib, but that wouldn’t do any good to reassure my troubled mind, my racing heart. When he was sleeping was the only time John didn’t display his characteristic energy – the energy the faceless old woman had robbed from him in my dream.

I went into the living room with my Bible, turned on a lamp, curled up in the couch and read. I started in Matthew. By the time I reached John, I had at last calmed enough to fall back asleep.

Nevertheless, the dream continued to haunt my future, when any ordinary occasion could make my heart race again with fear for my little brother.

Other times I dreamed of friends, family members sinning against me or against another loved one in terrible ways. I’d awaken knowing that it was only a dream, that nothing had happened, that my friend or family member was innocent of the nightmarish accusations. But I struggled nonetheless to avoid hurt, anger, and bitterness towards those who had offended in my dreams.

Yet other times, I dreamed that I was engaging in some illicit act, taking pleasure in evil. Even when I knew it was only a dream, that I had neither done the evil deed nor chosen the wicked contents of my dreams, I felt ashamed, guilty for what I’d done in my sleeping dreams, for how I’d enjoyed what I truly abhorred.

Dreams are powerful because they’re not under our control. They’re powerful because while they aren’t reality, while we can know they aren’t reality, we still experience them as reality while we dream – and still feel the effects of those experiences once we awaken.

I am usually a rational person. I like to think things out. I like to believe things based on thoughtful consideration. But dreams circumvent my thoughts and go straight to my emotions.

When I dream, I’m not relating to the world through what I know to be true. I’m relating to the world through my emotions. And when I wake up, those emotions, those responses are still there.

And just like when I first started dreaming these powerful dreams, the Word of God is the antidote.

It is insufficient for me to tell myself that my brother is fine, that my sister hasn’t done something horrific, that I haven’t rejoiced in something perverse.

Instead, I must steep myself in the character of God, in the reality of sin, and in the hope found in the cross of Christ.

In himself, my brother is a dead man walking, devoid of life. But in Christ, he is a new creation, a new creation such that neither disability nor death can rob him of life.

In herself, my sister is a sinner who offends against me and God and others. But in Christ, she is a saint who is being transformed more and more into the image of Christ.

In myself, I do indeed glory in the worst of debauchery. But in Christ, I was created for good works and delight to do God’s will.

Yes, I need to know that the dream is not reality. But even more, I need to know that sin is real – and the solution is real.

Christ died for sinners. For me, for my family, for faceless women who abuse children. If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. Me, my family, the person who tried to hurt us. No one can kill what God has made alive in Christ. Not me, not my family, not anyone.

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

~Romans 8:38-39

That’s the truth, more powerful than any dream.

Categories Following Christ, Parenting

The End of Myself

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Desperation.

That’s what I felt as Tirzah Mae’s not sleeping at night approached two months.

Would she ever sleep through the night again? Would my “good” baby, who never cried unless she needed something, ever return?

Despite the doctor’s ultimate diagnosis of colic as the source of her crying and frequent night waking (in other words, “crying for no understandable reason”), I was convinced there was something causing her crying. Yes, we ruled out GERD when two weeks of medication had no effect. But prior to this, Tirzah Mae never cried unless she needed something: she was hungry, she was dirty, she was overtired, she was in pain.

As I got up with her yet again, bleary eyed and exhausted from two months of rarely finishing a sleep cycle and from the effort of cleaning up a filthy mobile home while my own home slipped back into chaos, I was absolutely desperate.

I made a plan to do what I’d been toying with for weeks – I’d go to the pharmacy, pick up every scientifically suspect remedy. Gripe water. Simethicone. Homeopathic remedies.

I was willing to throw away my scientific dogmatism, to do anything, however contrary to my training and philosophy, if only it would help.

That’s when, in desperation, I cried out to God: “God, heal my daughter.”

At long last, she was soothed and fell back asleep. I left her in her crib and returned to my own bed, where I continued to cry out to God until I fell asleep myself.

And I slept. Two hours, three, four.

I roused, thinking surely my overtiredness had kept me from hearing Tirzah Mae’s screams. I heard her rustling in her crib – and nothing more.

I fell back asleep.

Six hours after she had fallen asleep, she awoke and fussed for her mother.

The next night, she slept another five to six hours. And the next. She’s slept wonderfully since Tuesday.

And I turn, at the end of myself, wondering why I waited so long to turn to God.

Why is it that I only turn to Him after I’ve diagnosed her myself, after I’ve turned to the internet, after I’ve turned to the doctor, after the medication fails? Why did I wait until my only other resort was hocus-pocus?

It’s frightening, how slowly I turn to the one who knows all things, who alone has the power to change all circumstances.

It’s humbling, how sinful I am even in turning to Christ.

But it’s so amazing, how God’s mercy doesn’t punish me for waiting to turn to Him. Instead, He graciously grants my daughter (and myself) sleep.

Just one more example of the gospel at work: God, graciously giving good gifts to those who don’t deserve it, forgiving those who turn aside so often to self-reliant idolatry.

Thank you, Lord, for bringing me to the end of myself. Thank you, Lord, for your patience with my delay. Thank you for reminding me again how it is only in you that I live and move and have my being. May I turn aside from self-idolatry and ever more quickly turn to you, the source of all life.

Categories Faith

On His Own Terms

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The mountain trembled, the earth shook. Great cracks of thunder rumbled and lightning pierced the fog. Acrid smoke burned in their nostrils as the ever-louder trumpet blast rang within their ears.

They’d been prepared for this – washing their garments, abstaining from marital relations.

They huddled at the foot of the mountain, terrified. The mountain itself was fenced off and they’d been solemnly warned not to approach.

Moses went up and came back down. He took the priests back up and they ate and drank. They came back down and God spoke from the trembling mountain such that all the people trembled too.

It’s easy, when thinking of the main events of Exodus, to think only of the plagues and of the Exodus out of Egypt. We think of God revealed as the deliverer, redeemer, maybe as hardener of Pharaoh’s heart. And then we move on to Numbers in our minds.

That’s why I’m so glad our ladies’ Bible study is studying Exodus – and that I joined mid-year, just as we were reading through the second half of the book, from Exodus 19 onward.

Here we see God as terrible, inspiring fear and awe in His people in scenes like the one described. Lest the Israelites become cavalier, assuming that the God who rescued them and terrified the Egyptians was no one to be feared, God showed His great power to them not in conquering their enemies but in making a mountain quake and thundering down His stipulations for His people’s behavior.

What strikes me, though, about the laws given in Exodus, is that, while some are civil rules about how to live together, the bulk are something else entirely.

First, God tells Moses what to tell the people about approaching the mountain where God was. Then God gives some general rules. Then He describes in minute detail how the tabernacle was to be constructed, emphasizing again and again that it must be “according to the pattern given to Moses on the mountain.”

Moses comes down from the mountain to find the people worshiping in a way not prescribed by God. Moses’ wrath breaks out against the people – but it is nothing compared to God’s wrath. Moses returns to the mountain to intercede and to receive a new set of the law, and then he returns to the camp, where the people build the tabernacle according to the pattern given to Moses on the mountain.

In the second half of Exodus, we see a God who must be approached on His own terms.

His terms are minute and absolute – nothing short of perfection is acceptable.

Yet Moses and Joshua ascend the mountain and return unscathed. Had they met God’s impossibly high standards for how He must be approached?

No.

The second half of Exodus reveals an unapproachable God approached. It looks forward to the One who would perfectly approach the Living God on His own terms, who would pave the way for sinful humans to approach God and live.

We must approach God on His own terms, Exodus tells us.

The rest of Scripture agrees.

And His terms are Christ.

Categories Parenting, Theology

The Incarnation: God become infant

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** This post was copied from our Christmas letter this year – so don’t feel bad about skipping it if you’ve already read it. Otherwise, you are definitely obligated to read it in its entirety :-) **

It’s cliché to talk about how having children changes your view of God – but having a newborn this Advent season has definitely given me a whole new perspective on the Incarnation.

God became man. It’s a weighty thought any time – but this Advent, I’m struck with the reality that God became infant.

Part of being a human is having physical and psychological needs – a need for food and clothing and shelter, for comfort and companionship. And part of being a human newborn is having no way of fulfilling those needs by oneself – and only one way of expressing those needs to others. An infant cries.

As Tirzah Mae squalls in her bed or on a blanket or in my arms, I contemplate that Jesus – God Himself – cried. And as I run through the list of possible causes of Tirzah Mae’s distress, I contemplate that Jesus had an earthly mother who was just as clueless as I, who struggled to meet the needs of her newborn. I contemplate how the Creator of the Universe became dependent on His creation. What humiliation! And for what cause?

Philippians 2:6-8 tells us why Jesus came: “…though he was in the form of God, [He] did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”

Jesus had all the needs humans have save one. Everything my Tirzah Mae needs, He needed – except one thing. Tirzah Mae, perfect though she may seem, was born sinful, under the wrath of God. Jesus was not. He had no need to be saved from the wrath of God because He didn’t deserve the wrath of God. Yet Jesus Christ came, bore the humiliation of being a human infant so that He could go to the cross – so that He could bear the wrath Tirzah Mae and I deserve. I can feed and clothe and comfort my Tirzah Mae, but I can never save her. Yet Jesus – Jesus came as a little infant like her so that He could save her.

Cliché though it may be, as I reflect on and care for my wonderful early Christmas gift, I am reminded of the greatest Christmas gift of all – and I am thankful that God became infant in Jesus Christ, that God became sin in Jesus Christ, that God bore the penalty of my sin in Jesus Christ, and that in Jesus Christ my greatest need is met.

I pray this Christmas that we all may come to know the great salvation for which Jesus humiliated Himself.