Last week I wrote a post about embracing our constraints, and how they are good for us. But even as I was writing it I could hear objections arising in the back of my head:
“Yeah but…”
Read Last week’s post here:
You're Not Unlimited... and That's Good
I’m an avid coffee drinker, but sometimes I enjoy a good cup of tea. Sometimes my cup of tea has a little quote for me. Sometimes that quote is amazing.
Yeah, but what about that person who hurt me? Yeah, but what about this chronic illness I have? Yeah, but what about abuse? Yeah, but what about injustice? Yeah, but what about… what about… what about…
How would you finish that sentence? What constraints are you facing that are painful? What in your story fills you with envy, or rage, or shame?
When I say that our constraints are good, what makes you say, “How dare he!?”
I can think of a few situations in my own life that are very painful; things that I wish were different than they are. Situations where part of me wishes I were unlimited and could simply make it better.
But I can’t. And that’s painful. And I don’t have to pretend otherwise.
Embracing Reality
When I wrote about the goodness of our limitations, honestly, most of what I wrote was more about how it is good for us to accept our condition as limited beings. Ultimately, that’s about accepting reality. We might fantasize about being unlimited, but we’re not. If we pretend we’re not, we might end up doing great harm to ourselves and others.
The late great Dallas Willard was fond of saying “Reality is what you run up against when you’re wrong.” There is a way that things are. Objectively. When we pretend otherwise, we often wind up hurting ourselves like Wile E Coyote using an Acme product.
Embracing our constraints, even the painful ones, is a part of coming to terms with reality. That doesn’t mean we don’t ever do anything to change our circumstances, especially when it is within our power to do so. It’s more like figuring out where you are on the map. You have to know where you are before you can get oriented and find out where to go next.
This is where the 12-step community has a treasure to share with us. One that is beneficial even for those without addictions. If you look carefully, you’ll notice something: The first five steps are all, ultimately, about coming to terms with reality. Take a look:
We admitted that we were powerless over our addiction - that our lives had become unmanageable.
Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him.
Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.1
The first three steps are often summarized like this:
I can’t. God can. I think I’ll let him.
That’s a refrain that I’ve found helpful in so many circumstances, and that’s ultimately where the greatest good of our constraints lies. They compel us toward dependence on God and on others. As Dallas Willard was also fond of saying, “God’s address is at the end of your rope.”
But maybe you’re not convinced that being driven to God by circumstances is a good thing. Maybe you don’t trust that God is really good, that he really understands you, or even that he’s really there.
That’s where I’d like us to turn next. Because I think that Jesus is the best answer to those concerns.
The Self-Limiting God
If you’re reading this and you’re not coming from a Christian theological perspective, I should probably make something explicit that may sound a little weird, but bear with me. Christians believe that Jesus was not merely a man, but that he was God incarnate. That is, that God came down to earth as a human being, a man we know as Jesus of Nazareth, or Jesus Christ (although Christ is a title and not a surname).
So, as Christians, we believe that if you want to see what God is truly like, you need only look as far as the person of Jesus.
If you ever read the gospels (I’m partial to Mark, personally) and are inspired by Jesus and the way he lives, you are catching a glimpse of what God is like.
When he eats with “sinners” (Mark 2:16)
When he heals (Mark 2:1-12)
When he casts out demons (Mark 9:17-27)
When he embraces and blesses children (Mark 10:13-16)
When he feels compassion for the crowds (Mark 8:2)
When he engages outsiders in conversation (Mark 7:24-30)
These things are all little glimpses of what God is like, of how good he really is. Jesus is “the image of the invisible God”2 and as such, he reveals what God is really like.
Jesus was truly God. But he was also truly human. He didn’t just pretend to be human, or play at being human. He took on the fullness of humanity, including our limitations. Jesus,
Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross!3
Because of the incarnation, because of Jesus’ willingness to limit himself in this way, we have a God who knows what it’s like for us as we experience the pain of our own limitations.
He knows what it’s like to be hungry and thirsty (Matthew 4:2; John 19:28)
He knows what it’s like to be exhausted (John 4:6)
He knows what it’s like to be misunderstood by family (Mark 3:21)
He knows what it’s like to mourn loss (John 11:33-36)
He knows what it’s like to be betrayed (Mark 14:43-47, 66-72)
He knows what it’s like to be abused (Matthew 26:67-68; 27:27-31)
He knows what it’s like to die (Matthew 27:50)
And these are only the hardships that the Gospels decided were worth mentioning.
How many other unseen and invisible pains and difficulties did Jesus endure? How many losses? How many injuries? How many disappointments? We’ll never know this side of heaven.
We have a God who is able to understand our pain and weakness4 because he voluntarily set aside his rightful unlimited-ness and embraced human limitation. He doesn’t just know because he’s omniscient. He knows because he knows. He has first-hand experience with the deep pain of human limitation.
Let that sink in…
Jesus has first-hand experience with the deep pain of human limitation.
So, when I say that our limitations are good because they drive us to God, it is because I believe in this kind of God. Even in the midst of my pain, I know that he is good. I know he understands, even when it feels like nobody else does.
That doesn’t eliminate the pain. It doesn’t have to. Because I know that I’m not alone in the midst of my pain.
And that’s enough.
How has a relationship with God helped you navigate painful situations in your life? Or, how has a sense of his absence impacted you in those same kinds of situations?
https://www.12step.com/12steps
Colossians 1:15
Philippians 2:6-8
Hebrews 4:15
Knowing that God understands me, in a way that no one else can understands me is, is a comfort and a joy! That knowledge makes burdens lighter, because I know I do not carry things alone. Understanding my limitedness also reminds me that He is in fact unlimited. This means that no matter what my situation or hardship or fear or difficulty is; He has every ability to fill it because He has no limit. It is this understanding that allows me to surrender control of my difficulties and limitations. Surrender makes me stronger because I watch God meet my needs and compensate for my limitations in a way that I can’t explain naturally. This is how I become more than a conqueror through Christ.