Born in a stable, and on a mission to save the world…it sounds like every superhero origin story we’ve ever created. There were so many tender moments – mundane, everyday moments of feeding and rocking, playing with His siblings and going to and from the temple. He was raised under the watchful eye of a king that had planned to murder Him as a baby, nevertheless, he grew. He thrived. He had the strength and skill of a carpenter surrounding a heart that was bleeding with empathy for a hurting world.
And I wonder, when did He know His fate? How many years of carefree childlike innocence was He afforded? Were there ever moments of carefree childlike play that weren’t clouded by a looming fate, a sacrifice that had to be made? Did He struggle with anxiety? It would have been very human if He did. Certainly in the garden, His anxiety, torment and isolation were overwhelming. How many crucifixions did He walk by during His travels? And how old was He when He looked up and recognized His future?
I would like to believe He did have those innocent moments. That He grew as we all did, first with the growing, learning mind of a child and then slowly learning the harsh realities of His world. I want to believe His mother was unclear about the prophecy of the spear that would pierce her heart too. I hope there were some moments of blissful ignorance as He grew. I hope His heart was guarded by the Father and that He could experience the childlike faith He treasured.
And I hope for us this season that we can be overcome with the true weight of a gratitude that sees the layers of sacrifice. That we see the very human experience of a young man with his mother and siblings, His friends and a mere 33 years of life on this planet. I pray that we see His humanity, worship His divinity, and that we feel the depth of His love.