“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given… And he will be called… Mighty God” (Isaiah 9:6).
What do you picture when you read “Mighty God”? I would be lying if I told you I didn’t see some heroic figure standing on a field of battle, shield raised, sword poised, alone, and holding the line. You know, Gandalf fighting a balrog, Aragorn charging out of Helm’s Deep, or Théoden’s charge outside Minas Tirith. Ok, so I like love Lord of the Rings, yes both books and movies. Who doesn’t love the imagery of a person of might standing against all odds and getting up when they get knocked down? Our movies today are filled with superheroes and warriors fighting for a cause and overcoming no matter the cost.
This type of strength is admirable and something we should strive for in our own lives, and yet it overlooks a crucial part of the verse. “A child is born.” A tiny helpless child brought into a world of struggle. God came into the world in the most vulnerable state, as we all do, as an infant. So how can this child be Mighty God?
So let me be vulnerable with you now. I have flaws. Wow, that was harder to write than I was expecting, but I bet you are right there with me. I have a confession that may be harder than admitting I have flaws. I am a recovering perfectionist. Something, that I know none of you can relate to. I want my every action to be perfect, correct, and done well. I will study, analyze, and strategize just to study, analyze, and strategize again before ever acting just to not mess up. To not fail. To not look stupid. To not feel embarrassed.
One of the hardest life lessons I am still learning is how to be accepting of my imperfection. And Christmas is a great time to remember that. God came to us as a child, not a ruler or king. He didn’t come as some hero, but as a baby. He grew up and was mighty in action, deed, and service but no more than you or I. The God of the universe came to our level to be human. To live with us. No wonder one of the greatest ploys of the enemy has been to convince us to move away from our humanity, where God came to meet us, and try to reach the unattainable world of perfection where we think God still is. As a wise person in my life told me, perfectionism is a fear of vulnerability. A fear of being less than.
But there is might beyond measure in vulnerability. As Scott Erickson says, “Jesus is mighty not because of His capacity to overcome hardships but because of His willingness to go through human hardship, like we have to do” (124). You see, we were not meant to be alone in life. We were meant to walk hand in hand with God. To be human, is to be vulnerable. “May we not see this vulnerability as the place of failure because of our inability to overcome it, but as the very invitation to partner with Mighty God through it” (125).
Isn’t that the celebration of Christmas? That God left perfection that is unattainable for us, to come and be with us in the vulnerability of humanness. So, just like me, take this time to remind yourself about the miracle of Christmas. The miracle of God becoming with us. A mighty God who is willing to walk in life with us.
As Mark Batterson says, “God wants to use you at your point of greatest giftedness. That’s a given. He is the one who gave you those gifts in the first place. But God also wants to use you at your point of greatest weakness. Why? Because that is where His power is made perfect. That is where we present double trouble to the Enemy.”
So let us remember that this Christmas will be messy. This Christmas will not be perfect. It may not look like an Instagram reel or a Pinterest post, but if you let it, it will look like what God intended. A time for us to spend with Him. A time to remember our greatest strength is in the one who is with us. The God who walks through life with us. The God in whom we find our strength. And “may your present stage of life be the mighty ground for divine participation” (Erickson, 125).
Chris Kaatz is one of the Men’s Deans up at Sierra Towers at La Sierra University and supports his wife in all things Christmas.