Mary asked the angel, “How can this happen? I am a virgin!”
The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come down to you,
and God’s power will come over you.”
Luke 1:34-35 CEV
One reason the world has such a difficult time with Christianity is that our faith is based on a lot of paradoxes. Take Christmas for example. The Magi come into Jerusalem looking for “the one who has been born the King of the Jews” (Matthew 2:2). But Luke tells us that Jesus was born in a stable, likely a cave, wrapped in strips of cloth, and placed in a manger for a crib. That’s not how a King comes, is it?
This question was breached by Carol and Jimmy Owens in a Christmas Carol:
How should a King come? Even a child knows the answer of course: In a coach of gold with a pure white horse in the beautiful city in the prime of the day. And the trumpets should cry, and the crowds make way, and the flags fly high in the morning sun, and the people all cheer for the sovereign one. And everyone knows that’s the way that it’s done. That’s the way that a King should come.
How should a King come? Even a commoner understands: He should come for His treasures and His houses and lands. He should dine upon summer strawberries and milk, and sleep upon bedclothes of satin and silk. And high on a hill His castle should glow, with the lights of the city like jewels below. And everyone knows that’s the way that it’s done. That’s the way that a King should come.
That’s how a King should come. But that’s not how King Jesus came.
How should a King come? On a star filled night into Bethlehem rode a weary woman and a worried man. And the only sound in the cobblestone street, was the shuffle and the ring of their donkey’s feet. And a King lay hid in a virgin’s womb, and there were no crowds to see Him come. At last, in a barn in a manger of hay, He came, and God incarnate lay.
And the angels cried: “Glory! Glory to God!” Earth was silent so heaven rang: “Glory! Glory to God!” Men were dumb so the angels sang: “Glory! Glory to God! Peace on earth good will to men, Glory! Glory to God! Christ is born in Bethlehem!” “Glory to God! Glory in the Highest! Glory to God! Glory in the Highest! Glory to God!”
But that’s not how the world wants to envision a King of Savior. And maybe that’s not how we want to envision a King or a Savior either. We want power and strength, not a helpless baby.
The more I read the Bible, the more I realize that God enjoys putting great power into ordinary containers. The angel tells Mary, probably just a teen of 14 or 15 years, likely not the image of power and strength, that she will be the mother of the Son of God by means of the power of God. When Jesus was born, the Son of God set aside his “Godness” and “made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness” (Philippians 2:7 NIV). Jesus took on weak humanity. Turns out, only by taking on our humanity was Jesus able to take our place, take our sin, take our consequences and the curse of sin, and restore us in right relationship with God.
But it was necessary for another reason as well. Being born as a helpless baby, taking on our humanity, is also a demonstration for us that the power of God continues to work in and through weak humanity. As Jesus told his disciples and us when he washed their feet, “I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you” (John 13:15 NIV).
Paul, teaching on the awesome mission we have, says, “The Scriptures say, ‘God commanded light to shine in the dark.’ Now God is shining in our hearts to let you know that his glory is seen in Jesus Christ. We are like clay jars in which this treasure is stored. The real power comes from God and not from us” (2 Corinthians 4:6-7 CEV). We are the containers that carry the power of the Gospel, the Good news of life in Jesus. I must confess that, like Christian speaker Patsy Claremont, I often feel like a cracked pot, not really of much use. But we must remember, God enjoys putting his great power into ordinary containers. God doesn’t only want to use our strengths, which compared to God aren’t much; God takes even greater joy in using our weakness.
How do we make ourselves, that ordinary container, available to God for his power?
First, we must admit our weaknesses; own up to our imperfections. God wants to use all of us. When we know our imperfections, we can give them to God who will work his perfect power in and through them.
Second, we need to be content with our weaknesses. I know. We’d rather be freed from them. But contentment is an expression of faith that causes us to depend on God and help us to know how much we need each other. Vance Havner once quipped, “Christians, like snowflakes, are frail. But when they stick together, they can stop traffic.”
Third, we need to honestly share our weaknesses. The more we share our struggles, the more God can use us in serving others. People will trust us if, when we are sharing the Good News, we don’t pretend to be perfect but are instead honest.
The great missionary Hudson Taylor once said, “All God’s giants were weak people.” The awesome paradox of the Christian faith is that God enjoys putting great power into ordinary containers.
Jesus was born as a baby, took on humanity, was nothing special that people should by his appearance be attracted to him – in other words, Jesus was not a “Mr. America.” Jesus was an ordinary container that carried the sins of the whole world for all time to the cross.
How about it? Are you ready to be a paradox? Are you willing to have the power of God in the ordinary container that is you?