Jesus is human, too.

2020 – what an appropriate year to talk about Jesus’ humanity, as we ourselves navigate how to be human in the midst of so much darkness. This year has been difficult for every single one of us in some way, shape, or form. We are all lamenting for different reasons, and while I am no theologian, I am a learning and growing seminarian, and something that has helped me tremendously as I have navigated this year, is knowing that Jesus, too, is human. Jesus, too, knows what it’s like to be and feel human.

Every semester of seminary so far I’ve found myself zeroing in one specific theological topic. This semester, and this whole year really, that topic has been Jesus’ humanity. Sometimes we as Christians focus so much on Jesus being God, fully divine and perfect, we forget Jesus is also fully human. We sometimes act as though Jesus’ humanity is not nearly as significant as Jesus’ divinity. But just think about how lonely we would feel if we neglected to think about, preach about, and write about Jesus’ humanity. Not only would we miss out on part of Jesus’ identity, but we’d also be separating our identity from Christ’s.

Jesus knows human suffering, he felt human feelings, he wept human tears, he expressed human emotions; he knows intimately every emotion and feeling we’ve ever had and will have. We, too, are allowed to embrace and express all human aspects of ourselves – if anyone shows us that, it’s Jesus himself. Jesus’ humanity is a significant part of his identity. In addition to knowing what it is to be God, Jesus also knows what it is be human – he hungered, he thirsted, he wept, he suffered, he cried, he tired, he slept, he hurt, he felt pain, he was sad, he prayed (Gregory of Nazianzus, Oration 29). God is not this big powerful guy up in the sky, separated from us; God is not merely observing humanity. God is among humanity, because Jesus is God and Jesus walked this earth just as we are walking it now, with his own two feet.

When I thought about God this past year, it helped me and brought me immense comfort to picture a human being, like you and me, who knows intimately the pain we feel and experience, especially in a year like 2020 – I pictured Jesus. There is no pain we know that Jesus does not. There is nothing we go through that Jesus does not understand. There is no emotion we could ever express and no feeling we could ever have that would confuse, overwhelm, or scare away Jesus – he gets it.

My theology and my faith have both been stripped to their very core since beginning seminary, but especially in this last year. That’s a positive thing, because I hear that’s what’s supposed to happen in seminary. But it can also be a really challenging thing. I was definitely in what some may call a “spiritual rut” for the greater part of 2020, and while I don’t feel ashamed to say that now, I certainly did for a while – as a seminary student studying theology in order to be in full-time ministry, I should be on a spiritual high all the time, right? I felt like the worst seminary student in the world because there I was, studying theology and yet I couldn’t remember the last time I opened up my Bible. I would have people come to me and ask for prayers and yes I would pray for them, but I would do so feeling as though I had the least amount of faith that God would actually do anything about them.

This year I was confronted by a lot of things that made me explore my faith and question what I believe and what I don’t believe. My faith was challenged in ways it had never been before, and quite honestly, in ways I wish it hadn’t been. But I realize in retrospect that while yes, my faith was stripped to its core, I think what was and is actually happening, is that my faith is being broken down so that it can be built back up again, only this time, more firm. People warned me prior to entering seminary that this exact thing would happen at some point. And I have slowly but surely begun to realize that it is for my own benefit, but more importantly, it’s for the benefit of those I’ll be ministering to in the future, whether it’s in a church as a pastor or in a hospital as a chaplain.

People’s worst theology tends to come out during difficult times and in difficult seasons when life simply sucks. Since the year 2020 happened to be full of such times and such seasons, I’m sure you all know what I am talking about and have maybe even heard some of the sayings I’m about to type. We don’t always know what to say when times are tough, which I’m certainly not knocking anyone for – we can’t possibly know exactly the right thing to say all of the time. But because of this, we sometimes tend to resort to theological clichés as a means of offering an explanation as to why horrible things happen – God has a plan, everything happens for a reason, God allowed this to happen to make you stronger, God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. When a good thing happens, people tend to say “God is good” or “God is faithful” as though God wouldn’t have been good or faithful had the outcome been bad. People try to explain the bad away with God rather than just letting things be bad for a little while. While there’s nothing necessarily wrong with these statements if they help you through a hard time, I urge us all not to push these sayings onto other people, because they can really inflict some harm and/or elicit a lot of guilt. Just because God is good all the time doesn’t mean life is going to be good all the time, and just because God is good doesn’t mean we have to be positive or look for the bright side of things all the time. We’re allowed to sit with the crappy for a little while, or however long we need to. We’re allowed to be angry. We’re allowed to be sad. We’re allowed to simply be however we are without feeling guilty for it, or trying to find the, “silver lining.” It’s okay to just let things suck.

I want to reassure my siblings in Christ that it’s okay to be human, to express your very human emotions to (and even at) God, and that you don’t have to use God to explain away the awful things that happen in life – things that, if we’re being honest, don’t usually even have an explanation. Something that is not talked about nearly enough in churches or in Christian communities is the idea of creating space for the awfulness of life to simply exist, rather than trying to instantly make it better by saying something like Jesus loves me or God has a plan. Feeling the need to jump to an explanation, a rationalization, or just some answer to cling to is normal, because we as humans aren’t always great at the whole “not knowing” thing. But the reality of it is, there’s not always going to be an explanation, or a reason, or a way to rationalize why certain things happen the way they do. And that’s hard, yes, but it’s also okay. That’s why it’s also very human for anger, sadness, and frustration to be our response to horrible events.

Anger was an emotion I sat with a lot this year. One of the first things one of my pastors asked me this year after something really horrible shook my world, was: “Have you shaken your fist at God yet?” Her asking me this question gave me permission to be angry, something I don’t think I’ve ever been verbally given before, especially not by a faith leader. It’s not the norm for pastors or Christians to ask one another if we’ve been angry, especially not at God. Some think anger is a lack of trust or faith in God, and therefore think it’s a sin. But being angry is not a sin, even being angry at God is not a sin – the Bible says in your anger do not sin, but it does not say that having or expressing the emotion of anger is a sin. I’ll even admit before you today that “What the f***, God?” has come out of my mouth more times than I can count this year. I used God as my punching bag a lot throughout 2020, and even still, I knew and I know that I am loved deeply by God. I knew God could and can handle all that I throw God’s way – my questions, my anger, my emotions, my feelings, my doubts, my why’s, my frustrations. God is the one who created us, after all. God literally created us with feelings and emotions. God gave us them. Why would God give us them if God didn’t want us living into and expressing them?

We cannot hurt God’s feelings. We are simply not that powerful. God can handle whatever words, feelings, emotions, or prayers we speak to or at God. We can know that we are loved by God, that God exists, and that God has a plan for us, and still lament and be sad and be angry and be anything else. There is space in God’s heart and mind for all that we bring to God. I want you to know that, I want you to sit with that, and I want you to remember that.

I certainly believe that there are things in this world that hurt God’s heart – injustice, hate, evil, harm that is inflicted upon God’s children. But I do not believe it hurts God when we are mad, even when we are mad at God – I believe what hurts God’s heart is knowing that our hearts are hurting.

Some people act as though when our relationship with God isn’t perfect, or when we’re not praying or reading our Bible’s regularly, that somehow we are driving a wedge between us and God, or creating this giant distance between ourselves and God. But God is just as close to us when we are struggling with our faith as God is when our spiritual life is “good.” God is the same distance away and in the very same spot at all times, regardless of where we are spiritually. God is the presence that you and I still can feel even when we don’t pray every day, even when we don’t participate in online church every Sunday, even when we’re not reading our Bible’s or doing ours devotions every day. God does not become further away from us based on our actions (or lack thereof) – we don’t have that kind of power, to push God away enough for God to leave and be like, “Well, I tried, but I just don’t care anymore.” It certainly may feel that way sometimes, which is completely valid, but I hope you know and you feel that God is still present no matter what. God does not choose to become further away from us when we choose to try to be further away from God.

God is right here.

I am so incredibly grateful for the ways in which God still continued to show up this year, despite everything, even when I was looking in every direction besides God’s. My relationship with God and my feelings towards God may have been something like a rollercoaster throughout the majority of 2020, but I do know that God never stopped being beside me through it. I never stopped believing that God loved me, that God was with me, and that God heard me. I never stopped believing I was called to ministry just because I didn’t feel like the aspiring minister that I, “should be.” I was simply processing, discerning, and questioning, which I believe are things that never really stop. This year just happened to be a really intense one, during which my processing, discerning, and questioning were all very present. But as I said before, my faith and theology are simply being broken down, which I knew would happen for the first time at some point during seminary, I just didn’t know when, and I didn’t know how.

This year was one throughout which I needed to be ministered to more than I needed to minister. I leaned on the ministry leaders in my life more than I was a ministry leader myself to others, and I confided in them when my heart felt shattered more than I had the energy to be confided in by others. And that was okay. It is okay. I’m in seminary, I’m not yet a pastor or chaplain (thank God). I still have a year and a half left before I’m in the ministerial role that God is calling me to, and I know throughout that year and a half (and beyond) I will continue learning, growing, exploring, questioning, and navigating these things called faith, theology, and God (Here’s to that wild journey)

If this post offers you one thing to take away with you, I hope it would be permission – permission to be human and to feel all of your feelings and emotions, the same way my pastors and my school’s chaplain gave me such permission. You have permission to be your full human self – to embrace the thoughts, feelings, emotions, and behaviors that make you human. You have permission to feel all of your feelings and to sit with all of the emotions that you are experiencing, and know God is with you in them. You have permission to not be okay all the time. God loves you, and hears you, and sees you. God created you and therefore knows that it is not even *humanly* possible to be joyful and okay every moment of every day. So please, have grace with yourself. And remember that being human is really bada$$ – don’t you forget it.