“’For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body’ (Psalm 139:13-16)” (Erickson, 35).
The annual Sadie Hawkins banquet rolled around in the spring of my sophomore year of high school. It was the best attended event of the year, which brought even more pressure as my mind raced on whether or not I should ask my high school crush.
For weeks I had been worrying about if he would even want to go to a banquet with me, and if I did decide to ask him, how would I go about doing it? Additionally, I was getting stressed over the thought that someone else would beat me to the punch and ask him before I built up the courage to do so. However, after a lot of persuading from some of my closest friends, I eventually built up the courage and vulnerability to ask him.
We had just finished drama club after school, and I thought, if I didn’t do it now, I wouldn’t do it. So, right before I exited the school to leave for the day, I placed the note I had prepared into his hand and ran out the door, too scared to see his response. What felt like hours later, but in reality was probably a few minutes later, I received a text from him confirming that he would go to the banquet with me.
Even though it may seem silly, I remember this moment vividly because it was one of the first moments in high school when I was vulnerable enough to make my desires known to someone I liked. I desired to go to the banquet with this boy so much that I risked it all by placing my vulnerability in his hands.
When we think of the Advent story, it truly is a story centered on vulnerability. Each party, even though different, experienced this same intense vulnerability, though not necessarily by choice.
Through this vulnerability, a connection was created.
A connection between Mary and Joseph.
A connection between Mary and Jesus.
A connection between Jesus and the rest of the world.
Scott Erickson says, “Any real connection involves vulnerability because it takes the act of making oneself open to truly be known” (Erickson, 37). When I reflect on this statement, I think of how utterly terrifying it is to be vulnerable. At that moment, it may feel like you’ll never be the same again. It may feel as if the entire world is changing, and in a way, it is.
Every time there is vulnerability, there’s growth. When we choose to be vulnerable, not only with ourselves but also within our communities and relationships, we choose to grow in the unknown, thus changing the world around us. Despite our human desires for facts and statistics, when we choose to be vulnerable, we enter into an unknown space that is not already calculated. The unknown is scary. However, the unknown produces some of the best fruits.
Because Jesus was willing to be vulnerable, as Scott Erickson puts it, “God came to us floating in embryonic fluid. Slowly forming and taking shape. Embedded in the uterine wall of a Middle Eastern teenage woman it trusted to care for its fragile knitting process” (Erickson, 37). The world was changed because of this.
As we journey through this Advent season, I hope we can create safe spaces of vulnerability within our community. So that together, change can take place, and we can continue to grow more deeply.
Elizabeth McDonald is the children and family pastor at La Sierra University Church and is celebrating her first Christmas in the La Sierra community after moving here from Hinsdale, Illinois.