Love has a name
A post from the Jesus Collective Partner
Contribution by Keith Smith (Ohio, United States).
Love has a name
Our culture often equates strength with power, dominance, and control. Yet, the greatest demonstration of strength ever witnessed was not an act of force, but an act of self-emptying love. It was an ordinary yet peculiar evening in Bethlehem. The clouds slightly hid the moonlight. There was a light breeze and the air was mildly humid. Most were silent in their slumber after enduring the hectic surge of travelers that packed every road and marketplace, even the animals were quietly resting from a long day of work.
In the silence of the night, in a drafty barn cave, a young girl in travail gripped the hand of her husband as she gave birth to a tiny baby boy. The father immediately wrapped the newborn infant in scraps of cloth and placed the baby in the exhausted and caring arms of his mother. Mary and Joseph knew something about this baby was special but they didn’t fully comprehend the eternal ramifications of what was happening in the moment.
When God wanted to change the world he didn’t come as a powerful warrior. He came as a vulnerable baby. The One who holds all things together needed to be held — the One whose glory covers the earth needed to be covered. The creator of the cosmos makes a divine introduction to humanity as a naked newborn. You don’t get much more vulnerable than a tiny naked newborn baby. The Apostle Paul tells us in Colossians 1:15 that Jesus is the visible image of the invisible God. Was the mystery of God revealed in the newborn baby that Mary swaddled in her arms? If so, what an introduction! But what about God was revealed in the newborn Christ? I want to suggest that through the incarnation of God entering the world as a baby, we are gifted a divine picture of what love looks like. God is love and that love looks like vulnerability.
“For God so loved the world,”(John 3:16) that he poured himself out into an embryo that grew in the darkness of Mary’s womb before being born that night in Bethlehem. One of the earliest hymns of the church is found in the second chapter of Philippians. This hymn beautifully describes the incarnation with the Greek word Kenosis, which means “letting go” or “self emptying.” “Existing in the form of God…he emptied himself.” This self-emptying of Christ is not the removal of his deity but rather an expression of his deity. It is because He is God that he emptied himself. This is the way of divine love. The way of letting go, becoming vulnerable like a little child.
In a world where people are grasping for power, status, and control. God still comes into the world through vulnerable love; through people willing to let go of power, reputation, and a need to be right. Our world will not be transformed by our strength but by our vulnerability.
When the disciples asked Jesus, who the greatest in the kingdom of Heaven was, Jesus “called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt 18:1 – 5)
Maturing in the kingdom looks like growing up into childlikeness. People not known by their piety, power, or positions but by their hope, curiosity, and compassion. These childlike virtues are exactly what the enemy goes after and unfortunately, the church has suffered from this assault. We live with the consequences of the church valuing knowledge above innocence and being right above being childlike. This has badly distorted our witness as image bearers of the vulnerable love revealed in Christ. Just as the Father sent Jesus into the world, (as a vulnerable baby) we are also being sent. Jesus told the disciples, “Behold, I am sending you out as sheep among wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” (Matt 10:16) Being sent as sheep into a wolflike culture is the epitome of vulnerability. But we are instructed by Jesus to navigate a world of wolves by being wise and innocent. To be Innocent as doves and wise as serpents means: Always play in the snow but never eat the yellow snow!
Following Jesus in vulnerable love is risky. The word “vulnerable” comes from the Latin word vulnus, which means “open to be wounded.” It’s not a coincidence that Jesus’ death was similar to his birth. On the cross we find Jesus, naked and vulnerable; instead of being held by the warm arms of Mary, he is held up by cold nails on the cross. But the mystery of vulnerable love is that death is not the end but rather a divine multiplier. “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” (John 12:24) Love truly has a name. His name is Jesus.
This Advent season, I want to invite you to take time to sit with the mystery of the incarnation. Meditate on the beauty of kenosis, and allow yourself to be humbled by the vulnerability of Christ. Ask yourself: Where in my life am I resisting vulnerability? How can I cultivate more trust and openness in my relationships with God and others?
Pray with me:
Jesus, as we prepare for the celebration of your birth, we come to you humbled by the profound act of vulnerability you demonstrated in becoming human.
You, the creator of the universe, chose to enter our world as a helpless infant, showing us the true meaning of strength – not in power or control, but in self-emptying
love.
Forgive us, Lord, for the times we have resisted vulnerability, clinging to our pride and fear. Help us to let go of these vices and embrace the childlike qualities of hope, wonder, and compassion.
May we learn to love as you love – with open hearts, willing to be wounded, and confident in your unwavering grace. Grant us the courage to live lives of vulnerability, reflecting your image in the world.
It’s in your name that we pray, amen.