-
Listen
- Watch
Summary
One morning on her way to work, my wife came across a horrible accident. A man’s body was lying in the street. He was obviously dead. People were late for work. Cars were honking. Some were yelling, “Let me through!” And all at once, a woman jumped out of her car, ran to the body, turned around, and began screaming at all those commuters: “He was somebody’s baby! He was somebody’s baby…”
Surprisingly, that changes things, doesn’t it?
And surprisingly, everybody is somebody’s baby — a good for nothing baby.
Babies really are good for nothing; they’re just good.
And Jesus is God’s baby. . . We would’ve missed Him; Mary did not.
John 1:1-18: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made [ginomai] through him, and without him was not any thing made. That which has been made was life in him… He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who took him, he gave “exousia” [ek: out of + ousias: being, “a piece of beingness” ] to become [ginomai] children of God, those believing in his name, who were born not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh and dwelt among [in] us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only [monogenes (mono+ginomai): only begotten] Son from the Father, full of grace and truth… No one has ever seen God; the only [monogenes: only begotten] God, who is in the bosom of the Father, he has made him known [exegeomai: to exegete].”
So, a teenage peasant girl named Mary knew God better than anyone had known Him ever before, and better than any theologian has known Him since.
Jesus is God’s baby, who is God; good for nothing, just Good.
Why would God become a baby?
About 30 years ago, I bent down to give my four-year-old daughter a good night kiss. I was utterly stressed — expectations, responsibilities, loneliness — particularly at Christmas, everyone wants something from the pastor. Becky didn’t know and didn’t care how the sermon had gone. She just grabbed my head, pulled it down, held it to her chest and said, “I’ll be the big mommy and you be the little baby.” For a few moments I was. My blood pressure dropped. My pulse moderated. And she patted my head saying, “I love you, little baby.”
Best Christmas present ever! Mary must’ve said something like that to the Uncreated Creator. Perhaps God became a baby so that you would love Him when He’s good for nothing, just Good. And that’s Life.
During the message, I shared a picture of two infants in one incubator. They were twins, and one was not expected to live until a nurse broke protocol and put both babies in one incubator. One sister put her arm over the back of the other sister, the dying sister…and her pulse stabilized, her temperature went up, and the two went on to become healthy young adults. In 1996, the picture appeared in an article titled “The Rescuing Hug.” It changed the way doctors cared for babies in the United States of America.
Christmas means that God became a baby, because He always is . . . a baby — hypostatic union, “the same yesterday today and forever,” fully God and fully baby.
Maybe we could also become babies, for in reality, we already are. Everybody is somebody’s baby; good for nothing, just Good.
I am this thing I didn’t create (a baby), covered in this thing that I think I did create (a “grown-up” man).
Jesus didn’t tell His followers to become like children because they were actually “grown up,” but because they thought they were grown, were trying to be grown up, and that imaginary “grown up” kept each of them from connecting with one another and with God; it kept them from Life.
Life is the rescuing hug. Life is the self that you did not create, communing with another self that did not create itself. Life is a Divine Communion: at least two persons and one “ousias,” one substance called Love. Life is knowing God (John 17:3). It’s “being with” Jesus (Mark 3:14), fully God and fully baby; good for nothing, just Good.
A group of refugees were fleeing the Nazis over the Pyrenees Mountains in World War II. With them was a Jewish baby. An exhausted old man gave up and told the rest to go on without him. The guide said to him, “You’re not dead yet. With your last bit of strength, you must carry the baby until you die.” Three times with three old men, it happened that night. And in the morning, they all arrived in Spain, every one of them, alive. Perhaps everything is good because of, and for, the baby. “All things were created through Him and for Him,” writes Paul.
Everybody is God’s baby — Adam is begotten with a breath, a spirit, from God. And Adam held his breath. The last Adam surrendered His breath on the tree, and now His Spirit teaches us to breathe God in the Kingdom of God… begotten of God.
Everybody is God’s “begotten” baby (John 1:3,12), and Jesus is God’s “only begotten” (John 1:14,18). He must be born in us or us in Him, as if we actually are His body. And so, of course, “In Him was made Life.”
I have a friend who went to prison and spent a long time in solitary confinement. He said it was hell. He realized what we must all realize: There is no prison worse than the prison of one’s own self-righteous, insecure, lonely ego. The grown-up man, the successful self, that he thought he had created was destroyed. “One day it popped; it died,” he said. “I walked around the prison yard in perfect peace for two hours.” Someone cursed him, and he blessed them simply because he wanted to. He went back to his cell, curled up in his bunk (fetal position), and wept. And then, Jesus showed up. He placed his hand on my friend’s back — in my mind’s eye, I picture two infants and the rescuing hug. He stroked my friend’s back and said, “Stop trying. I’m doing this.”
He must’ve been saying to my friend what He says and will say to each of us: “Stop trying to save yourself, create yourself, and justify yourself. That’s what I’m doing and have done, for I know who you are. I love you as I love myself, for you are myself, my bride, my body, my temple, my home. I am enough. I am your life. I am doing it . . . all around you; I am stripping you of your illusions. And I am doing it within you, even as you. Someone just cursed us, and we blessed them. We were good for nothing, just Good.”
“I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life,” says Jesus. Life is not a program that you can do. Life is a person with whom you must constantly commune. “Abide in me” says Jesus. And where is He? John 1:18: He is on the lap and in the bosom of the Father, held tightly to His chest, like Mary held Him tightly to hers.
With the faith that you’ve got, which is the “exousia” that you’ve been given, picture yourself in Him and on the Father’s lap. To imagine what is true is called “faith.” Don’t promise anything, vow anything, or intend anything; just be something. Be the beloved: good for nothing, just good.
Then pick Him up and adore Him. You can’t earn Him or deserve Him. He’s good for nothing, just good — actually, the Good that everything is for. Worship Him.
Let Him hold you. You hold Him. And then, hold someone else; let the one that God has made in you, touch the one that God has made in another. Give someone a rescuing hug.
Everybody is somebody’s baby. Everybody is God’s baby. Jesus is God’s baby. You are God’s baby. He wants to be your baby, even as you have always been His. He calls Himself “the Son of Man.”
Love is God returning to God through us. Truth is God returning to God through our relationships. Beauty is God returning to God through all created things, as if the Cosmos is God’s baby. The entire creation will wake up and worship the Lord (Revelation 5:13), for it will all be filled with the Only Begotten, who is the Life.
And it’s all good for nothing. You can’t pay for it, and you can’t pay for anything with it. It’s all good for nothing, just Good. Merry Christmas.
And if you’re tempted to think that your particular life is inconsequential, you need to know: It all happens by means of the “rescuing hug.”