Read Luke 2:1-20
I’LL NEVER FORGET the first moment the nurses laid him on my chest. The sound of a cry that screamed of helplessness. His body shocked by cold air but warmed by the comfort of my skin. The way his lips opened and closed, rooting for his hunger to be satisfied. The way his eyes were looking for someone who was looking at him. It’s in this kind of utter need that unconditional love is found. This love is what I find my days filled with in this season: both the joy and chaos of caring for a newborn baby boy, dependent on me in almost every way. He relies on me for nourishment, for comfort, for help in the big and small; he is physically and emotionally helpless without the care of his parents. It is now more than ever, on Christmas Day as I stare into the precious eyes of my baby son, that I am struck by the humility of our Savior who chose this state of vulnerability as his marvelous entrance into the world.
Luke 2:6–7 gives an account of this entrance, as “the time came for [Mary] to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn” (ESV). There was no palace, no red carpet rolled out for Jesus Christ. The Savior of the world, the king who is enthroned forever, was born of the virgin Mary and likely placed in a feeding trough used for animals. Our almighty God willingly chose dependence and weakness. He was subject to the full mortality of man in order that he might live a sinless life, and die a sinner’s death, to be our perfect substitute that we might be reconciled to the Father by grace through faith. It’s the greatest story of love and most radical expression of sacrifice in all of history. God became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14) so that he might save us through his life, death, and resurrection.
Both in our current era, where leadership is equated with a big stage and a large following, and in the Roman Empire, where force and domination were the norm, Jesus’ incarnation is the most countercultural form of leadership we can imagine. Where we are way too easily impressed by worldly markers of success, and search for significance in our own independence, Jesus’ birth and embrace of utter dependence completely flips the script on how we ought to view influence. His leadership is service; he bends down low and draws near to us in gentleness; he forfeits his might to lay his life down, both through his entrance in a manger and his exit on the cross.
As followers of Jesus and the way of life he offers his creation, the Christmas season offers an invitation to meditate on the humility of Jesus and seek to follow his lead. May we trade a craving for power for a craving for sacrifice. May we be marked by our patience with those who hurt us, our service to the least of these, and our unconditional love for our neighbor. And as we follow in his way, may we also assume a posture under his care as weak, needy, and dependent, for we are completely helpless without him. On Christmas Day, Jesus became weak in human form so that we might find life through him and his ultimate power.
Gabrielle McCullough is an evangelist and Bible teacher currently in Waco, Texas, eager about reaching all people with the gospel of Jesus Christ.
This article is part of A Time for Wonder, a 4-week devotional to help individuals, small groups, and families journey through the 2024 Advent season. Learn more about this special issue that can be used Advent, or any time of year at http://orderct.com/advent.
