Finding the Meaning of the Manger

A friend of mine, Sam Collins, writes a little column once in a while in a publication called "Communion Together" that he calls “Afterthoughts.”  I love the way Sam thinks – in large part because he is a bit off the wall most of the time!
He wrote this the other day…
“God could have come to earth with the aura of a superhero.  The powers of the baby in swaddling clothes could have surpassed those of the guy in the cape from Krypton.  At the age of three, Jesus could have amazed his parents by using one hand to lift a donkey and cart into midair.  During his ministry, he could have utilized X-ray vision to grill loaves and fishes for the five thousand.  The impenetrable palms of his hands could have bent the cross spikes as though they were made of warm Twizzlers.
But God refused to shield his body or his heart.  He chose to incarnate himself in fragile human flesh.  He opted to open himself to the full experience of the searing heat of hostility, the ache of rejection, and the sting of death.  He dared to show us what it really costs to be made in his image.  It requires a vulnerability we spend most of our lives trying to run away from; it required a vulnerability that God beckons us to the manger to behold and embrace.”
As I read Sam’s words, I was caught up in the thought of the impact of Jesus being born in a Manger.  I have heard and even preached that the manger is a symbol of God’s willingness to reach out to all people of all stations of life – that even the first people to hear the good news, the shepherds and the wise men – show us that Jesus came to reach out to all people.
But this issue of Jesus modeling for us, for me, this idea of the power of vulnerability kind of rocks my world.  I do seem to spend a lot of effort and time trying not to be left vulnerable.  Trying to appear strong and able and self-assured.  The problem is that for most of Christ’s ministry on earth, he chose to allow those who came close to him to see his vulnerability – be it weeping over the tomb of a friend or a lost city, or being scourged and hung on a cross, or coming to earth as a helpless and vulnerable baby.
That really is the real meaning of Christmas I suspect.  Thanks Sam for messing up my thinking!