I recently heard a story.
In this story, a man was walking along the path when he suddenly fell into a deep pit. No matter what he tried to do, he could not climb out. Then, a doctor walked by and the man called out:
“Save me! I’ve fallen into this pit and can’t get out!”
The doctor, seeing the man in distress, said: “You seem anxious” and he threw in a prescription, then walked away.
Then a minister walked by and the man called out:
“Save me! I’ve fallen into this pit and can’t get out!”
The minister said: “The Lord is your salvation!”, said a prayer, then walked away.
Finally, a stranger walked by and the man called out:
“Save me! I’ve fallen into this pit and can’t get out!”
The stranger immediately leapt into the pit with the man. Incredulous, the man said to the stranger:
“What did you do that for? Now we are both stuck!”
But the stranger just smiled and said:
“Don’t worry. You’re not alone. I’ve been here before. I know the way out.”
I was told that this story is often shared with new members of Alcoholics Anonymous by older members. It also made me thinking about the nature of God when He humbled Himself to become human.
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.
Having just come through the Advent season and as we approach the season of Epiphany, the stunning implications of the incarnation should not be lost on us. Jesus, who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. God became flesh in the vulnerable form of an infant, born under questionable circumstances into a land subjugated by brutal empire. God jumped in the pit with us. We are not alone. He knows the way out. He is the way out.
This past year has been a very hard one for our community. While there have been some wonderful highlights, it has also been a year of staggering loss and grief. Though not at liberty to share all the details here, I can say that this year has been the hardest for me since we formed our small community of Little Flowers. As I was discussing these events recently with a dear friend and fellow community member, she quoted Psalm 70, with a tired laugh:
“Come quickly, Lord!”
Later, as I pondered her words, I realized how often I have read or heard those words and assumed their meaning referred to some distant “end times” return of Jesus. And while there is something to this longing for a final resolution- the culmination of the Christ’s kingdom- I also realized that for the writer in the Psalm, it was a longing for the immediate and present coming of Messiah to bring His mercy and shalom to His people and to the world. And this longing was fulfilled in Jesus! God became flesh and dwelt among us.
So, while we do anticipate a future where sin and death are forever conquered, we must recognize that the cry, “Come quickly, Lord!” is as much for the present as it is for the future. We need to have the ears of Christ to hear in our world the cries of those who are lost, suffering and alone. We need to hear in their suffering the cries for mercy, justice and liberation.
In the voices of the tens of millions of human slaves in bondage today, we need to hear the cry:
“Come quickly, Lord!”
In the groans of the mentally ill who are forgotten, ignored and abused because of ignorance and discomfort, we need to hear the cry:
“Come quickly, Lord!”
In the protests of sexual minorities who continue to be treated as less than fully human, subject to discrimination and violence, we must hear in their cry:
“Come quickly, Lord!”
And as we hear these countless voices crying out for justice- crying “Come quickly, Lord!”- we must understand that the Lord has come!
The Lord has come, having become flesh to live among us.
The Lord has come, having shown us what love embodied looks like, so we can live accordingly.
The Lord has come, having willingly gone to the cross to take upon Himself all of our misplaced hatred and wrath.
The Lord has come, having defeated death, liberating us from the last bondage which holds us back from truly loving Him and others.
And the Lord has come, having descended upon us at Pentecost, filling us with His unifying power, making us His Body, the Church. In other words, the Lord has come, in no small part, in us. And so when the world cries, “Come quickly, Lord!”, we are the ones who must respond as Christ’s Body, present on earth. It falls to us to jump in the pit alongside our sisters and brothers, created in the same image of the same God as we are, and work together to find our way out. And this we can do because Jesus has been here- is here!- and knows the way out.
