The Tender, Vulnerable Jesus

When I was in my twenties, I was uncomfortable with the importance placed on Christmas.  At that time, I thought that the birth of Jesus was, well, sort of important.  But everyone is born.  I reasoned that what was really important is the death and resurrection of Jesus.  After all, that’s the actual foundation of the Christian faith. 

As a young man, it was important to me that Jesus be strong, full of life, and victorious.  My personal letterhead at the time bore the Greek inscription with the meaning Jesus Christ Conquers.  Yes, a strong God of victory was how I understood Jesus.  Perhaps as a young man trying to define myself, I needed that image.

Forty years later, much has changed.  I’ve been lucky enough to live what I consider a full life with many deep experiences.  My life has been marked by joy and happiness as well as loss and deep pain.  I’m thankful for all of those experiences.  Most importantly, my life experience has enabled me to understand myself in different ways.  I also have a much different understanding of my faith and the person of Jesus.  That has led me to appreciate Christmas in a very different way.

At Christmas, we mark something deeply profound.  The Eternal Word, the Source of all creation, takes on human form.  But the transcendent Creative Energy doesn’t enter the world as a powerful person or as a super-hero.  Instead, being born as the infant Jesus, the Divine Mystery becomes incarnate while embodying helplessness and frailty.  

When I served as a hospital chaplain, my office was on the same floor as both the neonatal intensive care unit and the pediatric intensive care unit.  There, I encountered the vulnerability of new life.  The infants and young children who were patients in these intensive care units required tender care and attention so that they could survive and grow.  I particularly remember the infants labeled with a disorder called “failure to thrive.”  These infants were neglected and sometimes abused.  They stopped growing and were diminishing.  Volunteers would hold these infants, rocking and comforting them hour after hour, hoping that by a gentle touch and the warmth of a human body, their brains would grow and their bodies would revive.  Yes, they needed tender care and compassion.

As I reflect on the birth of an infant into poverty two millennia ago, I become more aware of his need for tender care to live and to grow.  As loving as his parents may have been, the chances of the infant Jesus dying in childbirth or within the first year were quite high.  Joseph and Mary nurtured his life, protecting him, and enabling him to develop deep bonds with loved ones and compassion for others.

We live in an era when many people don’t understand a vulnerable Jesus, a Jesus in need of care and tenderness.  They project onto Jesus a kind of super-human strength that’s not found in the Gospels but is a strength they want for their own lives.  They don’t understand Jesus as a vulnerable child, a political refugee, or as someone who became homeless and wandered the countryside as an adult. 

Even more uncomfortable for us is to remember that Jesus’ mission was to invite people to follow his way, to give up their power and prestige, to demonstrate love and compassion in daily life.  Following that path, emulating those aspects of Jesus’s life and teaching…well, the way of Jesus is just too harsh for most people.  I think the solution is to recreate Jesus as the god of power and might because we want to be people with power who are strong and independent.

Christmas is critically important to me today.  But not because angels celebrate the birth of a newborn king.  Instead, Christmas is a celebration of the Eternal One becoming frail, weak, and vulnerable as an infant.  The challenge of Christmas is to embrace our frailties, to accept our weaknesses, and to allow ourselves to be vulnerable both for our own good and for the good of others.  It is the infant Jesus who reminds us that we are all in need of care, compassion, and support. 

Photo credit: Falco on Pixabay.com