Craving the Incarnation: An Advent Groan
Our redemption began at inception.
I've been staggered this week, this month, at the human capacity for selfishness in a world roiling in the needs of other.
The trend is not new, I have to remind myself. When God asked Cain, "Where is your brother, Abel?" Cain punted the question in callous indifference, "Am I my brothers keeper?"
Of course, the answer was always yes, and the question has hung in the air ever since, waiting for someone to respond in compassion.
And I'm reminded that this selfishness is not foreign to me -- it is my native tongue. The same indifference (or is it outright hate?) that leaves homeless people outside unable to use a blanket in winter. The same pride that would make America great at any cost to her neighbors. These lie within my sad demands that my wife meet each unspoken expectation.
It's that age old will to power, throwing us again into the cycle of violence and alienation.
But then Mary got pregnant -- with God.
But then the Immutable One, unencumbered with vulnerable flesh, powerful beyond all powers, entered into absolute weakness. The preposterousness of such an act to a world obsessed with self and bent to hold power-over-others cannot be overstated.
Here, suddenly, was a new path.
And in that moment of Divine decision -- when the Godhead turned from Heaven's safety to the cross-laden path of earthly incarnation -- our redemption began.
Oh God, we crave your incarnation. Come again, Lord Jesus. May you be near to the hurting, suffering, powerless ones. May you be near to us in our own alienation. Spirit, guide us that we might follow you into weakness. Lead us out of these old ways, into the newness of your life-giving Kingdom. Overcome evil with good. Breathe forth your redemption.