Just a thought on Jesus

In my devotion time I have been reading Hebrews.  The writer begins by establishing Jesus' superiority to all things; the first of which is angels.  This is significant because it must mean Jesus is more than a mere man.  A passage in Psalm 8 reads:

When I consider your heavens,
    the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
    which you have set in place,
 what is mankind that you are mindful of them,
    human beings that you care for them?
 You have made them a little lower than the angels
    and crowned them with glory and honor.
 You made them rulers over the works of your hands;
    you put everything under their feet:
 all flocks and herds,
    and the animals of the wild,
 the birds in the sky,
    and the fish in the sea,
    all that swim the paths of the seas.

In God's creation, there is a hierarchy of beings clearly presented by the psalmist (David): first the angels, then mankind, and finally all animals.  It got me thinking about how Jesus must be both man and God.  Indeed, he has his identity confirmed by the angels at his birth.  Luke records how a great company of heavenly hosts suddenly erupts in praise after an angel announces the birth of the Messiah to a group of shepherds.  It had never occurred to me how absurd the angels worshiping God at Jesus' birth would be if he weren't God's son. I can't imagine getting all my loved ones together to worship God at the birth of any animal (this is the closest parallel I can imagine). 

In what may seem like an unrelated event, my son and I were looking at pictures a friend had shared.  He recently went on a trip to Paris where he snapped a picture of a statue of Julius Caesar outside the Louvre.  At first sight, my son exclaimed, "That's an angel, Mama!"  I was simply stunned.  His exposure to angels has been what most children see~ the cherubs of Fisher-Price and various storybooks.  

Here, he beheld a strong, larger-than-life Roman warrior.  Without a doubt this statue is a better representation of what an angel ought to look.  Most accounts of angels in the Bible involve their human witnesses falling to the ground in sheer terror.  Angels guard, strengthen, destroy, deliver, and command.  They obey God completely and at times reveal God's will to his people.  They are eternal and enjoy being in the presence of the Lord constantly.  As much as I can comprehend, that would make them in most ways superior to me in design. 

God turned my own "storybook" conception of the nativity on its head.  God has shown me that Jesus' lordship is confirmed by a mass of seemingly superior creatures bursting forth in glorious praise to God at his birth.  It also wasn't a chorus of cherubs singing Hark! the Herald, but a multitude of heavenly warriors praising God.  It's an image that strikes me with how great Jesus is-- leaving his heavenly splendor to become a helpless baby yet still God receiving praise from his own creation.  The angels confirm the incarnation, and I see more of him.

If ever man was God or God man, Jesus Christ was both.

~Lord Byron~ 

Readiness

The two minutes are up.  Nap time is imminent.  I say, "it's time, Bubba!"  Suddenly all the eagerness my son embodies ebbs away, and he scrambles to retreat, saying, "no, I not ready!  Two minutes!"  I can see the signs: sleepy eyes, an attitude shift from cheerful to irritable, and a dissatisfaction with all his good toys and books.  He is ready.  It's time for him to sleep, but he can't see it (or won't see it) my way.  His unyielding comportment lasts until we are by his bed singing songs to Jesus.  He finally surrenders and nearly gladly accepts that nap time is good.  I am no longer the villain leading him to imprisonment; I am his mother who loves him.  He says sweetly to me, "Je t'aime maman.  Au revoir!"

These daily episodes drain me.  I started praying and asking God why it had to be like this every time.  Can't my boy remember from one day to the next that all turned out well?  God was gracious and quick to remind me that this is the dynamic of my relationship with Him.  Too often when God calls me to something, my knee-jerk reaction is to say, "I'm not ready, Lord!"  God was leading Kyle and me to have another baby last year-- I'm not ready.  We moved into a home that wasn't unpacked or fully furnished for months, but God said to invite folks over-- I'm not ready.  My boy spiked a fever of 103.9, and I had to stay home with his baby sister while Kyle took him to the emergency room-- Lord, I am not ready for this.  Most convicting of all, opportunities arise to tell my friends about Jesus or openly give God the glory for the good things in my life and I say I'm not ready.

Matthew 19:16-22 reads:
Just then a man came up to Jesus and asked, “Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?”
“Why do you ask me about what is good?” Jesus replied. “There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, keep the commandments.”
“Which ones?” he inquired.
Jesus replied, “‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother,’ and ‘love your neighbor as yourself.’”
“All these I have kept,” the young man said. “What do I still lack?”
Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth.

When I tell the Lord I am not ready, it's no different than saying no.  It's no different than this rich young man who receives an invitation from Jesus to follow him and chooses to walk away.  Because like the rich young man or my son at nap time, I can't envision following and trusting God through life's challenges not costing me a lot.  What if I were a better mom with only one child?  What if our friends think our house is abysmal?  What if Bubba's fever is a sign of devastating illness?  What if I lose a friend because my love for Jesus weirds them out?

But Jesus never said that following him wouldn't come at a cost.  In fact he says the opposite; it come at great cost.  The rich young man was asked to give up his wealth.  Bubba surrenders his partial-autonomy and toys at nap time.  But what Bubba receives that the rich young man missed (and too often I miss) is the loving embrace of a parent and rest.  I could trade my own free will with all its worry and anxiety and missed opportunity with closeness to my Father in heaven and peace within.  All my "what ifs" could come true, which I dread admitting.  I simply desire that God would transform my reluctance into readiness, my free will into willingness to follow Him.  Please make it so, Lord.