Why Does God Choose to Live Inside Broken People?
With all our faults and failures, it's hard to imagine that the God of the universe would want to dwell within us. But what a beautiful truth from Colossians: we are reconciled to God through Christ Jesus, given a new identity, and equipped for use in his kingdom!
Last week, my kids watched Narnia. The BBC version that’s a few years older than I am. (If you’re not familiar with Narnia, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is an allegory about salvation and Christ’s death for us.)
As we were watching it and reached the part about the stone table where Aslan sacrifices his life for Edmund, I got tears in my eyes as I explained to my kids the importance of the moment, and what the deeper meaning of the movie was. I skipped the scary parts that showed all the evil things in Narnia that had come to witness his death.
But it struck me that in the midst of such evil, in the midst of Edmund’s own selfishness and the betrayal he had hurt his siblings with, Aslan was so good and so pure.
In the world of Narnia, Edmund had to die because he was a traitor. The White Witch thought she had won. But there was a deeper magic she didn’t know about. If someone chose to die in his place, the stone table (where traitors die) would break, and that person’s life would be restored.
I quoted Hebrews 9:22 to my kids: “Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins.”
You’ve heard it before, but it works the same way in our world, and it’s because of Jesus.
God Uses Brokenness for Good
Paul says in Colossians 1:21-29,
“Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation—if you continue in your faith, established and firm, and do not move from the hope held out in the gospel. This is the gospel that you heard and that has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven, and of which I, Paul, have become a servant. Now I rejoice in what I am suffering for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ’s afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church. I have become its servant by the commission God gave me to present to you the word of God in its fullness—the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the Lord’s people. To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. He is the one we proclaim, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone fully mature in Christ. To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me.”
Sometimes I look at my life with all of my mistakes and sins, and I’m baffled that God would call me His child, let alone want to use me to build His kingdom. I am the traitor who should die. But Jesus stepped in and took that penalty for me.
And last week, as I listened to Holy Week devotionals, it struck me how God has always been about serving us. Jesus coming to earth without the honor and glory He was due, spending hot days outside healing and loving people, praying for us, washing the disciples' feet, and so much more.
He sees us in our good moments and our bad moments. And He loves us. When He looks at us, His eyes are full of love. He loves us more than the best dad on earth loves his kids.
When Edmund joins Aslan’s camp, he’s a totally different person. Before, he was grumpy, unkind, and driven by selfishness. After he saw what giving his life to the White Witch was like compared to joining Aslan, he was changed deep in his heart. He bravely fought for what was right, he learned how to be kind to others, and he became more aware of other people’s needs.
He had seen the cost of his sin, and he no longer wanted it.
Our New Identity
It’s easy for us to stop at the moment of the sacrifice. To recognize that Jesus paid the price, to feel gratitude for a moment, and then quietly move on with life as usual. But the story doesn’t end at the stone table. The servant is not above his master.
Death is defeated, yes, but not just to save us from an eternity of separation from God. God loves us too much for that to be where the story ends.
We have a new power at work within us to change us to become like Jesus and give us the peace of Heaven on Earth and the exchange of our grumpy selfishness for wholeness.
We’ve probably all heard this and at least at some level agree. But do we live like people who have been rescued? Do we carry the weight of what it cost, not in guilt, but in gratitude? Do we let that shape how we treat others, how we respond when we fail, how we choose to love? Ourselves and others?
