A Risen Humility

Almost 2000 years ago, the shattered body of the One (and only) God-man was taken down from a hateful instrument of torture, and placed in a most lovingly prepared tomb. And all by the same species that had Him crucified. Clearly, quite a radical departure from what we did when we killed Him. In any case, at least we got the burial part right. 

But now imagine us, even as a species, becoming rather more hopeful than that. Or more brazenly ambitious, as some might prefer to call it. Imagine us, or some of us, actually trying to revive the body we had buried, by the ingenuity of our own mere human devices. Of course, it's hard to picture anyone in AD 33 envisioning that prospect with any degree of confidence. But today? . . . 

Now note: Our Lord had to be fully human in order to die. It takes a fully human body to be well and truly dead. But it takes nothing less than the God-man who indwells that same body to know, and to accept, that it is in fact broken beyond all hope of human repair. Broken, indeed, beyond anything but what a fully Divine restoration can accomplish. Left to our own human devices - even with the best of intentions - we would still, even now, be trying to resuscitate it. Or transhumanize it.

Again, a wholly Divine restoration. And grace. And tenderness. And solicitude. 

Of course I'm not expecting that this same human race is somehow - and at this late date - going to discover a humility (or even a tenderness) in any way approaching that of a Divine Father and Son. But may the shattered, self-crucified body of this world please note, and take heed: It can no more repair itself, than the best intentions and ingenuities of 1st-century mankind could have revived the body of its Christ.

Happy Easter.