Incarnating God's Incarnation

More than two decades after watching the holocaust movie, Schindler’s List, there are scenes in it that I cannot forget. One of these vignettes is an exchange between Oskar Schindler, the story’s protagonist and Polish businessman, and Amon Göth, the thoroughly corrupted commandant of the Plaszow concentration camp in nearby Krakow. Göth fashions himself as a Roman emperor, with the power of life and death in his hands. The commandant projects his power by randomly shooting and killing the Jews being held in the camp.  

 

Göth throws a party one evening at his residence overlooking his hideous kingdom. As the event winds down, the only ones left sitting on the balcony are Göth and Schindler. Though Göth has had too much to drink, he recognizes that Schindler is sober. A brief conversation reveals a thought process that tells us much about the two men’s inner psyche. Göth says something like, “Schindler, you have more self-control than I do. And that is power. I can respect that.” Schindler responds with something like, “Well, you think you have power because you can ride around your camp and kill people at will. But real power is knowing you could kill someone yet you choose not to.”

 

Troubled by Schindler’s insight, a following scene shows Göth standing in front a of mirror with his emperor-like hand extended forward. Göth keeps repeating the phrase, “I pardon you” over and over, awkwardly trying to will himself into giving life-sustaining grace out of a cold and empty heart. But he cannot do it. Soon afterward, we see Göth scolding and then shooting and killing a child after the child is unable to get a stain removed from Göth’s personal bathtub.

 

Long before Göth ever lived, Danish philosopher-theologian Søren Kierkegaard made a keen observation on the nature of power: “If I had a servant in my employ who, when I asked him for a cup of cold water, brought instead the world’s costliest wines blended in a chalice, I would dismiss him; for true pleasure consists not in getting my wine but in getting my way.”

 

Think for a few minutes about the implications of Kierkegaard’s insight. If you’re reading this right now, odds are you’re an American and in the majority of cultural norms. You have considerable power right now at your disposal. You have the power to come and go as you please. You have purchasing power that most around the world will never experience. You have the power to speak your mind in the public arena. You have the power to worship where and if you want to. You have power to exert your human rights. You have power over others based on position, relationship, or authority. I could go on.

 

Power is God-like because when you have power, you have freedom and access to other things that give you pleasure, joy, satisfaction, value, and identity. Which is why the thought of losing any power is so shocking and elicits such strong negative reactions. Even from Christians.

 

Power is also an opiate in that, sedative-like, your moral sensitivities are dulled as your power increases. Which conjures Lord Acton’s famous quote that, “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely”. You’ll care and notice less and less that others around you are adversely affected by the expression of your will and opinions. Your tone will go authoritative even though you’re dealing with incomplete information and are not an expert in the area to which you’re speaking. You’ll roll your eyes at or consider ridiculous anyone who thinks differently than you. You’ll be annoyed with inconveniences that cross your rights and not hesitate to huff and puff about it.

 

God notices, and is grieved (Ephesians 4:29-30). This is not how our Creator and King uses his power.

 

Consider the internal thoughts of God’s Son in His coming to earth in human form. Paul tells us that rather than exerting His power at His incarnation, Jesus subsumes His power as He takes on human life: “Though he was in the form of God, he did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:6-8, ESV).

 

Unlike Amon Göth, Jesus submitted himself to human weakness and embraced it all the way to the grave. “Therefore, God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every other name” (Philippians 2:9). God used his power to make peace with you. It’s God’s humility, coupled with power, that comes to us as grace. And now the question to us as Christ-followers is, will we use our power to add to the problems of this world, or will we daily humble ourselves and use whatever power we have to incarnate to others the peace-making grace that Jesus has shown to us?

 

Merry Christmas, friends, and may God’s peace be upon you.