If you’re pursuing sexual integrity, one of the worst things you can do is try to keep the sexually sinful parts of you from the God of Christmas. Those are some of the places that need him the most.
Here’s what I mean:
We know intuitively there is something deep and good and wonderful about humanity.
It’s a distinct glory—something different than the stars in the sky and different than the animals upon the earth. We yearn to see more of this glory, and so we look for it—without even meaning to—in our stories, in the news, in the mirror.
But we also know there’s something sick about humanity. When someone says, “I’m only human,” they mean it as a rationale for their chronic failures and inability to do better. All too often, it’s humanity that hurts us most deeply—people who bring the greatest darkness into our lives. Bullying, lust, betrayal, abandonment, adultery, murder. The list goes on—people acting like animals, using others as though they weren’t . . . well, people.
And this isn’t just about those people out there. It’s about us—you, me. The darkness that’s out there is also in here.
Christmas is not the story of a celebrity stepping from a limo to a red carpet or a superhero flying back and forth from his high-tech secret base. It’s not a fiction that took place in a lush meadow, a far away palace, or even a special wing at the hospital.
Christmas is about a baby who was born on something akin to a barn floor, near the flicking tales and clomping hooves of witless animals, born under the reign of a cruel dictator who hunted for him and killed thousands of toddlers in an attempt to snuff out the threat of a future king who would arise from among them.
Jesus was born into this world, born into our humanity—into all its beauty and all its cruelty. Out of his love, he has made our story his story.
God joined himself to all that we are and all we encounter, and he did so that we might be joined again to him. He raises up those parts of us that act like animals and he raises them up to true humanity again. Through his humanity, humanity is rescued. The degradation of “only human” becomes the royal dignity of “wholly human.”
As we walk through Christmas week, bring your life—as is—and join it again to his. Take time in the dark of the stable. There on the floor, hold the Christ-child in your arms. Feel his skin, smell his breath, kiss his face.
Bask in his humanity. And watch him restore glory to yours.
Question: In what area of your life do you need Jesus’ humanity joined to yours this Christmas? Hint: Where do you need more of Jesus’ character, personality, power, or love? Leave a comment below.