When It’s O.k. To Stop Dressing Yourself All Up This Season

I cannot get over it. The face of an infant. The quiet, helplessness of a child born dependent on others for everything it needs.

No human strength, no internal support, no hands to cloth itself or words to cry out, vocalizing what it needs.

Just rest, and stillness, and a mumbling sound that alerts the world around to interpret the internal; asking for feeding, changing, or someone to hold him near.

And I have often wondered, why Christ didn’t arrive in clouds, come down with fire and lightening, announce Himself with blaring trumpets, dressed in purple, glowing with a thousand legions of angels…

But instead, God chose to display himself as a naked, possessionless, fragile and vulnerable infant….modeling the call to all humanity…to come and be like Christ.

Children, born again like infants, enter into His Kingdom.

Still, oh, how a world has become experts at learning to dress themselves; in smiles, arrangant, self-centeredness that draws attention to us.

When, what if He came, and asked us our spiritual condition, as He parted the heavens, and called for the saints return?

Would we say our spiritual condition is stripped like He was on the cross, naked and having nothing carnal in possession, like He himself as He entered earth that day?

Or would we claim our own riches? Would we say, “Look at how great I am, important in my church”, or “How I’ve grown to be some esteemed servant, or great apostle of my time”….

All the while, Jesus whispers, “I admonish the humble, seek the contrite in spirit.” He beckons us to replicate children, declaring, “For theirs is the Kingdom of righteousness.”

My whole life I learned to be an expert at dressing? This earthly body, but also every aspect of my being. A smile, my badge. Good manners, respectful gestures, kind compassion…

As if I could buy with efforts some false brand of Christianity.

Still, good works, dutiful religion, dressing myself in some behaviors wasn’t when Jesus revealed himself closest and nearest to my heart.

There was a day, seemingly a life-time ago. It was dark and shameful. I lay without clarity, had been led to this road, stripped from everything.

It was at this lowest point, I knew I would never be able to save myself.

Yet, His face was most clear, hanging from that cross. I saw his head bowed, His eyes looking through my soul, crown pressed, blood rot. His eyes, oh, how they looked into someplace I didn’t even know at the time ached with a hollow existence…

The opitomy of a child, desperately needing a father.

I was stripped. Naked. Had nothing. Could offer Him zero. My hands were completely empty as I looked on Him that day.

Yet, He didn’t run from where I lay. He didn’t scold or scorn, belittle, shame, or degrate me for my choices…

Instead, He reached His arms out wide, lay silent on that cross and had an aching longing, deep compassion, a sincere wanting and a melting love that drew me to His eyes.

Mistakenly, however, at that particular time, I had learned to hate my sin and had an unhealthy fear of Jesus. Due to early childhood experiences, I didn’t understand, the leaving of my life meant peace, rest, and effortless communion….not more shame and fear.

But now, decades later, I see His call was, “Love”. 

And, as a human race, I think we can become experts at wrapping things up. We wrap presents, wrap our lives in greeting cards, and Facebook photos, making our world look perfect.

But what if, instead of slipping on heals, and lipstick, fake smiles, and false representations of who we are…

What if we stripped off all fake identities and offered ourselves to Him barren and abandoned of everything we are?

Not listing good works, not making excuses, not laying in shame, apologizing for imperfections…

What if we stopped dressing to impress God and instead fell postrate at His feet, saying, “Here we are. Empty hands. Abandoned heart. We give ourselves in faith to you, exactly as we are.”

Would it be the empty He would lavishly and eagerly start filling? Would it be this Christ-like association with His birth that day in the manger we might experience?

Could it be, naked stripping of ourselves actually helps us enter closer to His heart?

I remember that day so long ago, longing for a Savior, but missing Christ in the web of shaming rules and crippling religion.

Instead, I found him, not from any great accomplishments, but on a day anyone in the world might guess, it would be the very hour, Christ might have logically most abandoned me…

And friends, I want to welcome you this season, to come to Him naked of all your efforts, stripped from all your decorations, presentations and striving to earn your way to Him.

He loves you, just like you are. Did you “get” that, friend? Really…He loves YOU, exactly as you are!

And He wants us, like an infant, coming weak, helpless, and dependent on a Good Father, so He can care for our every need.

He loves the weak and contrite, the humble and seemingly forgotten in this world.

So, let’s take off our own lights and sashes. Let’s strip ourselves from all the worldliness and wrap ourselves in His love and acceptance…

Let’s not fear being helpless infants unseen in a manger of our circumstances, crying out, “Here we are Father. Come Lord, save us.”

For in this life, we will have trouble. And the world may prize bells and whistles…

But Jesus loves the simple. The vulnerable, sincere, and transparent. Yes, it’s the humble, weak, emptied and dependent…

That sees the face of God.

³¹ And Jesus replied to them, “It is not those who are healthy who need a physician, but [only] those who are sick. ³² I did not come to call the[self-proclaimed] righteous [who see no need to repent], but sinners to repentance [to change their old way of thinking, to turn from sin and to seek God and His righteousness].” (Luke 5:31-32)