"Now to God who is able to strengthen you according to my gospel and the proclamation of Jesus Christ, according to the revelation of the mystery that was kept secret for long ages but is now disclosed, and through the prophetic writings is made known to all the Gentiles, according to the command of the eternal God, to bring about the obedience of faith -- to the only wise God, through Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory forever! Amen" (Romans 16:25-27).I have often found it odd that Christianity is a religion of such great weakness. We have a crucified God in Holy Week, we have an infant God at Christmas, we have dim-witted disciples of both first-century and twenty-first century inadequacy. If we were to gather together the most brilliant minds in the history of the world to create the most appealing religion we might market to the masses, I have serious doubts that most of what Christians believe to be "true" would make the list.
Most of us, if we are honest, want a religion of strength, not weakness. Most of us want assurance that if we just do the right things and live the right way that God will reward us. And not just spiritually. We want to believe that God will reward us with material blessings, with physical prowess, with a good job, with a beautiful spouse. We want to believe that God has the power to keep us from losing our jobs or our loved ones or even our own lives. We want to believe that God will make everything all right . . . that God will make us all right.
But God comes to us as a baby at Christmastime. Vulnerable and weak. Demanding our strength, demanding our attention, demanding our sleepless nights of feedings and diaper-changings and tending to sickness and praying for the strength to be a "good enough" parent when it feels like we can't go on another minute. If God is a baby, that means we are the strong ones. God is dependent on us, not the other way around.
I find that pretty intimidating!
But I also find it encouraging . . .
I can think of numerous times in my life when I was able to cultivate a strength I never knew existed within me only because someone else was completely dependent on me . . . because someone else had become as vulnerable as a baby. And I can think of a few more recent times in my life when I had been the one "born again," in desperate need, depending on the strength of another.
And in those moments, I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt, I felt God's presence more fully than at any other time. "I feel God in my skin," I remember saying this summer when I was so sick that I couldn't even feed myself. But now that I'm better, oddly enough, God seems quite a bit farther away. I have to work at prayer. I have to work at discernment. I have to work at worship.
It is a strange and miraculous thing, this religion of ours that celebrates the weakness and vulnerability of God . . . the weakness and vulnerability of humanity. It is, in fact, the desire and vulnerability of God that is God's strength, we proclaim. And it is our desire and vulnerability as human beings that is our strength.
No wonder this divine wisdom is folly to the world!
Christmas is just around the corner, the baby is born again among us. God is born again among us. And we are born again in God. What kind of tenderness can we offer? What kind of sustenance will we seek? What kind of family will we gather together to support and encourage the new life in our midst?
It is our chance to try again. It is our chance to get it right this time. It is our chance to admit how very much we need one another . . . how very much we need God . . . and how very much God needs us.
Merry Christmas everyone. I wish you all the best in this season of Joy.
Gusti Linnea Newquist
(additional lectionary texts: 2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16; Luke 1:47-55 or Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26; Luke 1:26-38)
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