God like Jesus

 Jesus walked the earth in feet that grew weary, dirty, and sweaty.

His hands were susceptible to callouses from hard work.

Jesus tasted fear. He tasted grief. Hot tears fell from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

Jesus tasted the bitterness of betrayal and abandonment. He was left when he should have been loved. He tasted judgment, condemnation, and ultimately death. 

Why does it matter? 

Because if God knows what it is to be human, then there is a chance that maybe we can actually relate to God. 

I need this kind of God. One who has come close. One who knows the reality of my flesh, my broken mind, my general frailty. One who has walked through all darkness and therefore can lead me out of it. He’s been through the wilderness, so he can lead me through my own wilderness. He passed through death, so he can even lead me through that part too. 

I need this kind of God, who spit dirt from his teeth while he was tempted in every way by Satan in the barren wilderness. One who hung out with drunks and losers and probably even hookers, and wasn’t driven away by the smell of cigarette smoke. One who hungered and thirst and went toe to toe with demons. He wasn’t afraid of people with monsters, He just loved them and set them free, and that’s good news because I’ve had a few monsters of my own.

I don’t need a far-off, untouchable God or one who set the world in motion and then stepped away to let us spin on our own. And of what use is a God who stays aloof, refusing to enter into human suffering? I don’t need a God who doesn’t care about the least of us, the broken and lost and ugly ones. No, thankfully that kind of God isn’t the true God, but only a creation in our fear-filled imaginations. 

I need a God like Jesus. 

God-made-flesh.

Passed through life and death,

Leading me all the way.