This Christmas, there was a paradox I couldn't quite wrap my mind around- The God of the universe as a baby. Tiny, dependent, defenseless, vulnerable. The more I thought about his vulnerability the more beautiful it seemed. I don't risk vulnerability unless I want to be known, unless I deeply care about the person I am vulnerable with.
"See me. Know me. Love me" is the heart-beat of vulnerability.
And here was our God. As a baby, vulnerable. A God who wants to be known.
Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. James 4:8
That same idea spilled over into a conversation the other day. "Why did Jesus tell parables? Why didn't he just speak plainly?" questioned a friend, echoing my own frustration with the Bible's stubborn refusal to be a theology text-book, to lay out the answers to all our questions in ways that aren't open to multiple interpretations.
Instead, the Bible is a messy book, full of narratives, (some of which are frustratingly ambiguous about God's response-Jephthah's daughter, anyone?), poetry, regulations, letters. It's a book that invites conversation, wrestling, reading and rereading. Maybe, if the Bible had been written as a systematic theology text, we wouldn't have so many questions, but no one has ever passionately loved a text book. But through the messiness, the readings and re-readings, the struggles to understand, the One whose story it tells becomes clearer. We find ourselves at his feet awed by the beauty in a poem, humbled by the grace he showed in Christ, or perhaps like David, hurt or confused and looking to him for answers. Perhaps all this messiness is just another invitation, an invitation to know and be known, an invitation to relationship. Relationships are messy-I don't know a single person who comes with a guide book. We're notorious for miscommunicating, for interpreting the same phrase or text a thousand different ways. But that very messiness compels us to seek answers, and the only way I know to find them is through knowing the person more. A theology textbook (or a user's guide for our friends) might have given us the complacency that we knew the answers, but it was never about the answers anyway- it was always about the relationship.
And this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. John 17:3
So now, as I continue to wrestle with this messy text, and with my faith which seems so full of paradoxes, I'm trying to embrace the beauty of messiness. I may not have all the answers, but as long as I'm clinging to the one who does and seeing him more clearly in the process, having the answers isn't as important.
Let us know; let us press on to know the LORD; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth. Hosea 6:3
