The Incubator

Well, I promised a blog about the incubator, and here it is. (Great introduction, I know. I just passed ENC 1101. Can't you tell?? :P)

If you read my last blog, you know that I was at Synod '09, Epworth by the Sea. aka. Korean camp. As a recap, Pastor Esther Yang was the main speaker, and she had this really moving illustration about an incubator.

Pastor Esther was born prematurely. She was born so early that they had to put her in an incubator until she had safely matured enough to be out in the open. She talked about how her own mother couldn't even hold her because it was so unsafe for her to be exposed. So, in order to hold her, Esther had to stay in the incubator, and her mom had to put gloves on to touch her. She said that her mother woke up every morning as early as she could to go and see her, and left when visiting hours were over. She loved looking at her daughter, but what stood between them was the incubator. She wanted to hold Esther, but touching her could kill her. This is what her mother told her when she was old enough: "Do you know how it feels to give birth to your daughter, and not be able to hold her? To have her surrounded by glass, wanting to hold her but knowing that if you did hold her, she could die?"

She compared it to how we are with God. When God created us, we lived with Him. He walked with us in the Garden of Eden. That's how He intended creation to be. But then we screwed it up, and He couldn't be around us anymore. If you've read the stories in the Old Testament, you might remember that even LOOKING at God could kill you. Moses had to hide his face from God so that he didn't die. In the temple, there was a whole separate place where the Lord resided. Away from His people. Not because He's an impersonal God who doesn't want to be with us. Because He knows that being with us could kill us. He didn't want to use the gloves and touch us in the incubator. He wanted to be with us. To hold us in His hand when we need security. To count the hairs on our head. To catch our tears in His hand. To hold our hand when we're scared.

One of my favorite parts about the death and resurrection of Jesus. When the temple veil was ripped in two. It signified that because Jesus had paid the price for our sin, we were reconciled to God. He could dwell with us, and all we have to do is invite Him. It's amazing. And we take it for granted. It wasn't easy for Jesus to die on the cross. He sweat blood in the Garden of Gethsamane beforehand. He was betrayed by one of His closest friends. He was beaten and bruised and spit on and ridiculed. He was offered a sedative (wine mixed with myrhh) to make His death less painful, but He refused. He wanted to prove that we could trust Him. That we could trust that He knew (and still knows) our pain. To prove He loves us enough to go through such utter humiliation. And we take it for granted.

Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift.