Christmas is for Those Who Stumble and Fall, Feeling Stupid and Worthless.
How lament leads us to Jesus
Chris Rice is a musician from Nashville whose song Clumsy appears on his first album from the mid-nineties called Deep Enough to Dream. It's a simple song of lament where Rice expresses his frustration at not making more "progress" as a disciple of Jesus. Twenty-five years after first hearing the lyrics, it still speaks to me as deeply now as it did then.
You think I'd have it down by now
Been practicin' for thirty years.
I should have walked a thousand miles
So what am I still doin' here?
Reachin' out for that same old piece of forbidden fruit I slip and fall and I knock my halo loose
Somebody tell me what's a boy supposed to do?
I get so clumsy. I get so foolish.
I get so stupid. And then I feel so useless. [worthless]
I'm gonna get it right this time.
I'll be strong and I'll make You proud.
I've prayed that prayer a thousand times,
But the rooster crows and my tears roll down.
Can you relate to the language of lament?
You have a genuine desire to follow Jesus, yet trip and fall over your flesh repeatedly. Not only do you feel clumsy and stupid, but you also feel useless. Maybe even worthless.
I can relate—big time. Paul could, too. Yes, that Paul, the renowned missionary, preacher, church planter who wrote about twenty-five percent of the New Testament. Listen to what he says about himself in Romans 7:15–24.
14 So the trouble is not with the law, for it is spiritual and good. The problem is with me, for I am all too human, a slave to sin. 15 I don't really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don't do it. Instead, I do what I hate. 16 But if I know that what I am doing is wrong, this shows that I agree that the law is good. 17 So I am not the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it.
18 And I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I want to do what is right, but I can't. 19 I want to do what is good, but I don't. I don't want to do what is wrong, but I do it anyway. 20 But if I do what I don't want to do, I am not really the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it.
21 I have discovered this principle of life — that when I want to do what is right, I inevitably do what is wrong. 22 I love God's law with all my heart. 23 But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. 24 Oh, what a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this life that is dominated by sin? 25 Thank God for Christ Jesus the Lord!"
That is a powerful longing.
I imagine being a POW, waiting and wondering, day after miserable day, is anyone coming to rescue me? Or am I going to die in this imprisoned condition? Over time, I would despair of hope.
The human soul has longed for freedom since the garden, where humanity became enslaved to the power of indwelling sin. Paul calls our inner tyrant the flesh, often translated as the sin nature. In verses 22–23, he confesses,
22 I love God's law (i.e., God's wisdom) with all my heart. 23 But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me.
Apart from liberation, you and I are under the penalty of sin, controlled by the power of sin, and have no way of escaping its presence.
To that predicament, the Bible speaks, revealing God's plan to fulfill a rescue mission that delivers us from every dimension of sin.
In Genesis, the Rescuer is the promised seed of the woman who will destroy the insurgency of the devil.
In Exodus, the Rescuer is the spotless, sacrificial Passover Lamb.
In Leviticus, the Rescuer will be the priest of God who will make atonement for the people's sins.
In Numbers, the Rescuer is the Bronze Serpent, lifted high upon a pole. Anyone bitten by a poisonous snake in the wilderness could look upon the pole and be healed.
In Deuteronomy, the Rescuer is the coming prophet like Moses.
The Rescuer is the true Joshua, whose name means, the Lord saves.
The book of Judges portrays the Rescuer as one who fights for his people.
In Ruth, the Rescuer is the Kinsman-Redeemer.
From Samuel through Kings and Chronicles, the Rescuer is the true King of Kings who brings righteousness to the nation.
From Ezra and Nehemiah, through the poetic books and the prophets, the Rescuer is described from various angles as the one who will restore a broken and helpless people through the sacrifice of a Suffering Servant.
Isaiah speaks of this mission in chapter 53 of his prophecy.
Writing seven hundred years before the incarnation of Jesus, he reveals in vivid detail how the Messiah would accomplish the rescue.
1 Who has believed our message and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? 2 He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. 3 He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. 4 Surely, he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. 5 But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. 6 We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; but the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
Finally, as the last Old Testament prophet, Malachi speaks the word of the Lord around 420 B.C., promising the coming of a messenger to prepare the way for the Rescuer. Eventually, in God's timing, he launched the mission in a small village called Bethlehem.
POWs in World War II told stories of hearing American planes fly overhead in the darkness.
Even though they couldn't see the planes, with the humming of engines within earshot, they knew rescue was near. That nearness filled them with hope to press on for one more day.
At Christmas, we hear the engines of heaven humming over the small village of Bethlehem. The shepherds heard it in the angels' song, and the wise men heard it in a star—every sign proclaiming liberation was near. Eventually, the most unmistakable sign would be where the incarnation of God found consummation in crucifixion, as the Rescuer's death satisfied the sentence for sin in full. Through faith in his "it is finished" declaration from the cross, we are justified.
Now, in union with the risen Christ, we are indwelt by the Holy Spirit, who enables us to subdue the power of sin in sanctification. And yet, one day, not only will we be free from the penalty and power of sin, but also from the presence of sin. This absolute freedom is the promise of glorification.
Given our gospel hope, Paul provides the perfect example of how to deal with the enemy within. While freely confessing the evil of the flesh and taking full responsibility for it, he distinguishes himself from it. Rather than wallowing in self-loathing, he fixes his eyes of faith on the Rescuer, replying to the question, "Who will rescue me?" with the exclamation, "Thank God for Jesus Christ our Lord."
The next time you get clumsy, do something stupid, sinful, and feel worthless, let your losses lead you to the victory of Jesus.
Like Paul, confess the flesh, but don't wallow in it. Instead, allow lament to lead you to Jesus, that you might savor the present value of Jesus' blood, rebuke the chains, and thank God there is no more condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
In Jesus, those who have been set free are free indeed!