We sing about the Lord Jesus
laying down His sweet head. We see it depicted so beautifully in religious art:
a tiny hand, an infant’s upturned eyes, a pudgy knee escaping the swaddling…and
we like to think on this. To wonder this season how our Savoir came to earth as
a baby. Helpless. And soft. Someone to cuddle. We understand babies. We love
them. And to think of our Christ this way fills us with adoration and amazement.
He chose to come like this, and that is worthy of much thought.
But in the wonder of the baby Jesus, we can forget He came as king.
The King. The long awaited Messiah to
rule and reign. Not yet a physical kingdom as His people were expecting, but to
set up His rule in hearts that would believe on Him.
And we must also ponder this.
For to accept the arrival of
an infant is a task full of warmth and ease, but to accept the advent of a King
is not. It means putting oneself under
His rule. It means submission and obedience to His words. An allegiance and
devotion to His plan.
The problem is, most of us
who’ve accepted His reign in our lives, see this allegiance tested on a
thousand bristly platforms every day. To keep Him enthroned exhausts us and our
resources. (Can’t we just think of Him as a sweet baby?) I mean, we would obey His word, but people
frustrate us and do not deserve a soft answer. We would submit to His plan, but to go our own way in this moment would
satisfy our lusts. We would speak a
word of Gospel witness, but find our hearts distracted and cold. We cringe to find
that, when pressed with the matter of allegiance, we end up pledging it to our own selves. There’s this will,
you see, this desire to be subject to Him and His Word that is present with us,
but how to perform that which is good? That which bows to His rule? In the
thick of life we cannot find it.
The Apostle Paul writes about
this in Romans 7. He’s bemoaning publically what most of us try to brush under
the rug privately: We our failures as subjects. And his frustration whips
him to a fevered question: Who can deliver
us from this failure? Then he pens a most unexpected answer: I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord.
How can our King be the answer
to our failure? How can the one demanding our allegiance make it possible? Because He is no earthly King. For when we accept His reign, we also sign up
for His victory and His grace. By His death on the cross, Christ worked
something we could not: He put to death the
authority and power our sinful flesh holds over us. And because of His
resurrection, we are made alive in Christ: empowered to live for Him by that
same Divine power that brought His lifeless body back from the dead. That’s
what Paul is saying. The very Ruler who demands our devotion, provides the
means for that devotion. Strength to do every good thing. Power to bear much
fruit. Enabling to resist every temptation. This is the work of our King for us.
I thank God through Jesus Christ our
Lord.
And so we find the requirements
of our newborn King this season to be wonderful and good. Not something to be
strained for by countless new year resolutions. Or quietly ignored. His is a
reign that we may eagerly submit to. He is a King to whom we may gladly pledge the
devotion of our quiet moments and busiest days. And find both the willing and
doing of His good pleasure possible as we depend on Him.
A child, and yet a King.
Hallelujah.
Beth
