FROM THE PASTOR
I grew up safe, secure, and healthy. The Daniels homestead was first my playground and then my workshop. I was surrounded by extended family who shared equipment and labor to work our farms. In turn, we would sit in our kitchen or an aunt’s kitchen and swap stories as we took our lunch break from making hay or picking corn. Large, noisy groups gathered at the various homes as we went through the cycle of the holidays. We usually hosted Thanksgiving at our house. I was blessed with a strong body and avoided most nasty illnesses and ailments. I believed I could do anything that needed to be done.
I loved the early mornings of summer days before the heat and humidity built up. I would go out in the front yard while the dew was still on the grass and just soak up life. Standing there, I could hear Dad milking cows in the barn and the family beginning to stir in the house. I remember thinking one morning, “I could live like this forever.”
That was a great way to start life, but it was only the start. Eventually, I began to discover that the relationships surrounding me were not as strong as I had thought. I also discovered that I was not as strong as I had thought. Bit by bit I began to grow aware of my own vulnerabilities and limitations. By my current age they are all too evident. Living like this forever now looks more like a horror story than a beautiful dream. I have always assumed I would live well into my 90’s. That looks harder all the time. When I swing my legs out of bed in the morning I have no illusions of personal invulnerability.
In my profession I spend large amounts of time and energy helping people patch up their broken lives and make the best of their limited resources. We might have been created in the Garden of Eden, but it is now just a faded memory. Pain and patches have a larger place in most lives than beauty and bliss.
I am not writing this article to depress you. I want us to think again about a simple statement about Jesus found in Heb 2:17. “Therefore, He had to be made like His brethren in all things, that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God.” NAS
As we celebrate the incarnation, I invite you to pause and try to comprehend the magnitude of this statement. Jesus was willing to be made like us in all things. He did not live in a portable Garden of Eden. He entered fully into the world that we know. The trip from heaven to the manger was longer than any we will ever make.
I would like to think that Jesus too grew up safe, secure and healthy, but there is no record that he did. The Apostle Paul tells us that he did not just enter our world, but that he entered at the very bottom. He had no magical protection from bullies, illness, and accidents. We must not turn him into some plastic “Ken” doll that was packaged with every possible advantage. Jesus is one of us. He is perfectly qualified to represent the people who pour their tears out in my office. A Ken doll is not.
Many years are missing from the record of Jesus’ life. Over the centuries outlandish myths have been created to fill in these blank spaces. We must not fall for this magical nonsense. The records we do have indicate that Jesus experienced scorn, loss, deprivation, discouragement, fear, jealousy, and any number of the experiences we try to avoid. I believe he got sick and had accidents too.
Why is this important? Because Jesus is looking out for us right now. One of us is in heaven and he understands us completely. You are never alone. You are never forgotten. Jesus knows the things you face, and the love that brought him to Bethlehem is still as strong as it ever was. The incarnation equipped God to love us in the very best way. Hebrews says that God the Son was made perfect by his experiences.