He is infinite. He is immeasurable.
And yet, I so often wonder about Him, as a boy, as a young man, as the Lamb. I wonder about His humanity, instead of always trying to grapple with His divinity.
I imagine Him as a child hiding behind His mother’s skirt. I picture Him in fields, running alongside His brothers being soaked in the sunlight. I see Him laying down to bed, praying a prayer to His Father–a prayer filled with gratitude and intimacy.
Of course, while there is so much more to know of Him, we have to be content with the little details we hold now, knowing too that His work on the cross is neither tarnished nor undermined by our lack of details regarding His life.
Yet, still I wonder…
Was Jesus ever afraid as a boy? If perfect love casts out fear, did He ever find Himself afraid of the dark, or a spider, or the bully down the road?
If He was without sin, how did this show itself in His adolescence? Did He know He wasn’t suppose to act like His brothers and hit them, or punch, or yell? How much did He/could He give into His testosterone as a young boy without sinning?
Was He ever attracted to a woman? I mean, I don’t need my Jesus to be some kind of skirt-chasing womanizer. I certainly don’t hold to the theory that He married Mary Magdalene. But did He ever see a woman and recognize her physical beauty? Or was He all too aware, all too consumed, with her spiritual potential to notice?
What were His hobbies? Did He even have any? Did He have time for any?
When did He know who He was? Was He always aware, even as an infant, or did He grow into the knowledge of His purpose and calling?
What was His relationship with His siblings like? Was He close to each of them? Did they confide in their big brother Jesus? Were they only siblings, or did He also count them as friends?
What was Jesus like as a teenager. If He was sneaking away to the temple t age 12, how much more devoted to spending time with the Father must He have been at age 16, 17, or 18.
Did Jesus ever make jokes? I doubt He made many. Scripture describes Him as a man of sorrow. Carrying the burden of His calling–not to mention, eventually the sins of the world–that probably didn’t leave much room for comedy. My husband thinks, though, that He must have. He pictures Christ sitting around a fire with His disciples laughing. I like that image.
Did Jesus have any nicknames? Did His parents have a cute pet name for Him? I mean, what do you nickname the Messiah?
I suppose there is no real point in asking these questions. They do not change His love for me, or His purpose in coming, or in the glory that is to come. I suppose we could ask a million questions about Christ and never know.
Yet, I can’t help but wonder…
I wonder because, as I survey His humanity, it makes His love seem that much more tangible. I consider His time on earth as a man because it solidifies for me the depth of the sacrifice He made. When I think of Him pouring out His divine nature to be born of a virgin in humble beginnings, I am still overcome…still overwhelmed.
That He would do that for me. A man died on a cross, but oh, not just a man….