Jesus Knows Our Every Weakness

Scripture — Hebrews 2:14-18 (NRSV)

Since God’s children share flesh and blood, Jesus himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death. For it is clear that he did not come to help angels, but the descendants of Abraham. Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.

Devotion

When I became Episcopalian, I was introduced to a feast day of the church I had never heard of before—Candlemas, or the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple. It occurs on February 2 each year, which is the 40th day after Christmas, and commemorates Christ’s presentation by his parents and recognition by Simeon and Anna. It is also historically a time when candles that would be used during the year were blessed at church (hence the name Candlemas or Candle Mass) and, in some places, it is considered to be the appropriate time to take down Christmas decorations. (Mine always stay up until Epiphany on purpose, but sometimes they stay up all the way until Candlemas by a happy accident.)

We’ll talk more about the actual Presentation tomorrow, but that’s where the readings for today and tomorrow are coming from. Today, I could have talked about Malachi 3, but I actually did that pretty recently, so I turned to the Epistle instead—a lovely passage from Hebrews which talks to us about Jesus’s humanity.

The idea that Jesus is both fully human and fully divine is orthodox Christian theology and the key to our salvation, but all the same, it can be difficult to get one’s head around. For me, at least, the divinity is the easier piece. I can fairly easily accept that the Second Person of the Trinity, here on earth in the flesh, was God. After all, he did miracles, healed the sick, raised the dead, remained sinless, and ultimately overcame death itself. I can’t do any of those things. But, here on earth in the flesh, was he tired? Hungry? Hot? Cold? Did he struggle with loads of wood he could not carry there in the carpenters’ shop? Did he wish he had a warmer cloak, a softer bed, a shorter journey to walk? Did he feel the pain of rejection, the frustration of being misunderstood?

Years ago (almost thirty years ago now), I traveled to Chihuahua, Mexico on a short-term mission trip. As with many of these trips, how much mission we actually did—if mission is defined as successful revival services and efficient distribution of aid—is debatable. But if mission is defined as bringing disparate members of the Body of Christ together across culture and language barriers to encourage each other in seeking the kingdom of God, then the trip was not wasted. And it was on that trip that I fell in love with an English song through its Spanish translation—“What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” Somehow, extracted from my own culture and subsisting on the hospitality of others, these words struck me to the heart:

Jesucristo es nuestro Amigo:
de esto prueba nos mostró,
Pues a redimirnos vino;
por nosotros se humanó.
El castigo de su pueblo
en su muerte él sufrió;
Cristo es un Amigo eterno;
sólo en él confío yo.

(Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged;
take it to the Lord in prayer!
Can we find a friend so faithful
who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness;
take it to the Lord in prayer!)

Jesus knows our every weakness. Jesus, too, felt the pain and limitation that we humans do. On that trip, I bought a simple crucifix necklace because it reminded me of the humanity of Christ who hung on the cross for our sins. When asked about it, I would call it my “Jesus knows our every weakness” cross.

It is often very difficult to conceptualize the humanity of Jesus. It is also utterly crucial to what makes Christianity distinctive. A belief that gods could die and come back to life formed part of Roman paganism. But, as C. S. Lewis once put it in his essay “Myth Became Fact,” “The old myth of the dying god, without ceasing to be myth, comes down from the heaven of legend and imagination to the earth of history. It happens—at a particular date, in a particular place, followed by definable historical consequences. We pass from a Balder or an Osiris, dying nobody knows when or where, to a historical person crucified (it is all in order) under Pontius Pilate.”

Crucified. And risen. And still knows our every weakness.

Find all Life for Leaders devotions here. Explore what the Bible has to say about work at the unique website of our partners, the Theology of Work Project. Reflection on today’s Life for Leaders theme can be found here: The Creation Has Become Subject to Evil (Hebrews 2:14–3:6).