No Room

Most of us are familiar with the circumstances of Jesus' birth. Mary swaddled her newborn son and laid Him in a feed trough, because there was no room for them in the inn. "No room for you." I feel sure that you or someone around you knows what it is like to hear those words or feel them in your heart.

Perhaps you were an unexpected or even unwanted baby, and you became aware, even as a tiny child, that there was "no room for me here." Or perhaps there were insufficient resources to care for the family adequately, and you felt the anxiety of your elders in the only way you could understand, that is, "There's no room for me here."

Perhaps you were not as pretty or as strong or as smart or as easy-going or whatever—as your siblings or your cousins or your classmates. You were seldom chosen first, and almost always last. You began to think, "I'm not good enough. There's no room for me here."

As a child or as an adult, you may have been abused—physically, emotionally, or sexually—by those who were supposed to care for your well-being. That was certainly enough to convince you, "There's no room for me here."

You may have had some disability that prevented you from participating in life as you would have liked—or the attitude of others kept you from overcoming those disadvantages and participating fully in spite of them. "I'm different. There's no room for me here."

Perhaps you have suffered economically for any of a number of reasons. You don't have the clothes or the car or the house or the education that others around you enjoy and you have begun to think, "I don't fit in. There's no room for me here."

Your relationships may have been difficult, resulting in rejection and brokenness and loss. "There's no room for me here. Face it, there's probably no room for me anywhere."

Let me assure you, Jesus knows about "no room." Although He could not have been aware of the over-crowded inn, throughout His lifetime there were always those who pushed Him aside. "There's no room for you here."

· He came to His own, and they did not receive Him. (see John 1:11)
· He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. (see Isaiah 53:3)
· He wept, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers! How often I have wanted to gather your children together as a hen gathers her chicks beneath her wings to protect them--but you wouldn’t let me." (see Luke 13:34)
· Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve disciples, went to the leading priests and asked, “How much will you pay me to betray Jesus to you?” And they gave him thirty pieces of silver. From then on, Judas began looking for an opportunity to hand Jesus over to them. (see Matthew 26:14-16)
· When the rooster crowed [during Jesus' trial], Peter remembered the words Jesus had spoken to him, "Before the rooster crows, you will deny three times that you even know me." And Peter went out and wept bitterly. (see Matthew 26:75)

Jesus knows the feeling of not belonging, of being left out, of knowing that there's no room. You can entrust your heart to Him, for "whoever comes to me I will never drive away." (John 6:37 NIV) Because He came as our Savior-Mediator-Friend, there is now room.

Yes, there is room for you.

Marjorie

"We Are Pro-Body"

I recently saw a billboard ad for a local health center stating, “We are pro-body.” I have to assume that means, “We want to help you make your body the best it can be.”

My growing-up years carried a lot of anti-body messages—no, not antibodies of the kind that help rid us of viruses by attacking them before we become ill, but “anti-you-have-a-body.” My father was physical; his work demanded strength and stamina. My brothers were expected to be physical: doing farm chores, riding bikes, playing softball. While I was not forbidden to participate in these activates, how well could I to do them in a dress? Some activities were forbidden by my parents and/or by the Church: dancing, roller skating (at a rink), and swimming in a group of both boys and girls.

Looking back, and seeking to be charitable, I think my parents and the church may not have intended to teach a dualistic theology of mind versus body. "Mind = good. Body = bad." The Scripture teaches clearly that "flesh" and "spirit" oppose one another and in fact are warring within the individual believer. But flesh, in this instance, does not mean the same as body, but rather is unredeemed human nature with its inborn tendency to be wholly selfish. "The mind set on the flesh is hostile toward God; for it does not subject itself to the law of God [which is love, remember] for it is not even able to do so, and those who are in the flesh [living out their selfish, unloving nature] cannot please God. (Romans 8:7, 8 NASB)

Sadly, I think this teaching was misunderstood to mean that the body is not acceptable—not to God and not to us if we want to please Him. Again, probably none of those who gave me religious instruction would have espoused that teaching. Did I just get it wrong? I don't think so, for it was demonstrated pretty clearly in daily life. Specifically, there seemed to be something basically wrong with being in a female body. My mother hid herself (and me) in clothing which had the chief attribute of shapelessness. My father warned me that girls were responsible for the moral behavior of their dates, and a tent revivalist told us in the crudest of terms that we women, with our irresistible but wicked charms, were responsible for men going to hell. Is it any wonder that I had trouble claiming my body?

Although the physical body is only temporary, God thinks it's important. He could have used any means at all to form the ultimate revelation of Himself to humankind. And what did He choose? A human body. Would God have given Christ a body in which to live on earth if He thought bodies were a bad idea? In spite of the senses and appetites which sometimes get us into difficulty, God used a body to hold Himself. And He still does. He is pro-body.

Marjorie

Scripture is from the New American Standard Bible, used by permission of http://www.lockman.org/