Christmas for the Abandoned

I read last month about a prison inmate denied parole for the 16^th time.  He repeatedly stabbed young bartender, Kitty Genovese, in 1964 Queens, New York.  The attack made national headlines, as some 38 people heard her crying, "He's stabbing me!"  They looked down from apartment windows, watching the brutal assault of the 105-pound victim.  None risked coming down to save her.  None became vulnerable.

The Apostle John wrote, “The Word became flesh…”

In other words, the Creator joined his creation, becoming soft in the person of Christ, not only vulnerable to human frailty, but having that vulnerability exploited by friends and enemies. 

The Lord knew the pain of losing a parent, as it is appears Joseph died earlier in his life.  Christ knew the sting of criticism as his own family misunderstood him, and He knew the blunt reality of betrayal as his closest friends left him to violence. 

The best counselors aren't merely educated about pain and disappointment, but they've stood at the graveside, slept on tear-stained pillows, and given cries to their despair.  Isaiah referred to Christ as the Wonderful Counselor; one who knows your hurt by way of his own broken heart.  This is a Savior you can go to.

But you may say, “I do go to Him.  I do cry out, hoping God will hear, but He doesn’t answer my prayers.”  This gets to the heart of Christmas, for Christ experienced this as well. 

In the Garden of Gethsemane, Christ prayed for an alternative to the cross; one not subjecting him to the infinite crushing of his own heart.  He prayed with tears for that cup to pass from him.  His prayer was denied.   

Kitty Genovese’s attacker fled when lights came on in the windows above.  After a few minutes, when no one came down, he returned and stabbed her until she died. 

The Lord heard our cries and came down, vulnerable to human misery.  But the Lord’s temporal afflictions aren’t the reason we celebrate Christ’s birth, for they merely foreshadowed something more terminal.

Mark 15:34 says Jesus cried out from the cross, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" Christ submitted to the ultimate and infinite affliction of divine abandonment, separated from his Father.  This He did as a substitute for all who would be believe in Him.  Faith in Christ sees his birth as the first step on a path leading to his death, receiving the divine abandonment we deserve for longing for an identity apart from Him.

Kitty Genovese must have looked toward the front of her building, expecting her neighbors to come pouring out, rushing to her defense.  The feelings of abandonment must have been overwhelming. 

To trust in Christ as our substitute is to be assured God will never abandon us, even when it feels like He has. 

 

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Heroism

The latest installment of Superman was viewed by yours truly.  A good hero movie can occupy my DVD player any night of the week and twice on Sunday.  Many have speculated as to why the hero flicks keep coming, or more succinctly why throngs of people keep paying to see them.  What is it about these often conflicted champions that arrest our attention, especially considering the usual two-dimensionality of character and plot, as very few contemporary portrayals delve very deep into original moral or existential dilemmas?

But maybe it’s not the complexity of these characters that continue to arouse the anticipation of hopeful patrons.  Perhaps it’s much simpler, like the struggle for truth, justice, and the righteous way. It seems everyone is born with some foggy notion of right and wrong, as the human heart suspects that personal sacrifice for the greater good is indeed the greatest good.

One day a neighbor knocked on the door to tell me William had wrecked his bike and needed me.  I ran down the block to see a knee skinned up good and proper.  So I picked him up and carried him a block and a half home.  I never felt more heroic.  After doctoring him up, I asked him what he said to the neighbor when he had his wreck, and he replied, “I told them to go get Mom.”  This reminded me that I may be made in God's image, therefore capable of heroic acts, yet in no real sense am I a hero.

 Blaise Pascal said,

                       “Let man now judge his own worth, let him love himself, for there is within
                       him a nature capable of good; but that is no reason for him to love the vileness
                       within himself. . . Let him both love and hate himself; he has within him the
                       capacity for knowing truth and being happy, but he possesses no truth which is
                       either abiding or satisfactory.”

Our heroic acts are less heroic when considering the darkness of our motives. I did consider it my honor to carry my mildly wounded son home, but I also couldn’t help feel a bit exalted, even justified. Like most, I have previous volumes of very un-heroic engagements as well as the regrets that come with them. Yet, the last thing I need is noble behavior that makes me feel good about myself, because any heroics I perform are only an extension of a true Hero. The Apostle Paul said in Galatians 2:20, “And I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.”

Like fiction’s flawed heroes, the average person possesses the potential for noble heroics, but most recognize their own need for rescue. The insecure dream of being saved from the haunting feelings of inadequacy. The lonely hope to be liberated from the chains of solitude. The crushed spirit prays for someone to make them whole. And the sinner looks for deliverance from the coming Judgment.

The Christian Gospel proclaims the source of these needed provisions. Christ took our inadequacy upon himself, that we may know God’s acceptance; He was left alone by his Father, that we may have fellowship with God forever; He was crushed in spirit, that we may be made whole; and as Paul said in 2 Corinthians 5:21, “He made the One who did not know sin to be sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.”    

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