A Brother's Love

by Dave Wilkinson

Hebrews 2:11

December 6, 1998

Somewhere in the world at this very moment, people are watching reruns of "MASH," the immensely popular TV show that had such an extended run. It is certainly one of the most thoughtful and sensitive portrayals of human nature.

In one unforgettable episode, a disoriented pilot who thinks he is Jesus Christ, is brought to the MASH unit. The show revolves around the varied reactions of the medical staff to the presence of Jesus in their midst. At the end, the pilot is being loaded into a van, preparatory to his being sent to Tokyo for treatment.

Radar O'Reilly is there to say goodbye to him. Radar, of course, is the one innocent in the show, surrounded by others who deem themselves worldly-wise and cynical. Radar says to the pilot: "Captain Jesus, sir! Before you go, would you give my friend a blessing. The Captain replies , "Sure, Radar," and Radar pulls out his teddy bear and holds it up. The captain gently. touches the stuffed toy. Again they start to leave out Radar asks again, "And Captain Jesus, sir! Would you give me a blessing?" The pilot says, "Sure, Radar," and reaches out to touch Radar's head. Radar quietly suggests, "Not Radar, sir. My name is Walter." And the pilot, placing his hand on the young man's head, gives a blessing, calling him Walter.

There is power in being blessed, in being called by our name, in being touched. The good news of the Gospel, the good news of Christmas is that God knows our name and calls us in love.

When I was about sixteen I had a dog who was getting fat and old. I loved my dog very much but I also loved the idea of looking cool. I remember one time that I was walking my old fat dog and she stopped to do her business. Just then a car drove by loaded with all the girls I’d been trying to impress in high school. I loved my dog -- but at that moment I was ashamed to be seen with her -- for she had completely taken away my cool -- none of those girls would mistake me for James Bond ever again.

Unlike me and my dog, Jesus is never ashamed of us -- even when people might think we take away his cool. The author of Hebrews writes: "Both the one who makes people holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers." This is a tremendous declaration in light of the cosmic greatness of Christ with which the book of Hebrews begins. Chapter 1 verse 3 says of Jesus: "The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word" Now we find the amazing fact that this cosmic Son, this Jesus, is not reluctant or ashamed to call the redeemed his "brothers and sisters."

The phrase "of the same family" in verse 11 is literally, "out of one." In Hebrews the emphasis is on how Jesus came to share our humanity at Christmas. The "one" is Adam. Both Christ, in His human birth, and the rest of the human race come out of one man. The author of Hebrews is assuring us of two things -- that Jesus became 100 percent homo sapiens when he was born of Mary in Bethlehem -- and that this total identity with us is not a source of shame for Jesus but of pride. He’s not ashamed to be seen walking down the street with us.

Hebrews 2:17 says of Jesus that "He had to be made like his brothers in every way." Hebrews tells us that Jesus did not merely resemble humanity in some qualities of human nature, but in "every way" -- "in all things" Many Christians do not actually understand this, although they think they do, because nestled in their understanding of the incarnation is the thought that though Christ had a human body, He did not have a completely human mind. Some imagine, for example, that He possessed a divine awareness as an infant, so that his smiling and cooing in His mother's arms were an accommodation of his feigned infancy, and that actually He was thinking, "You imagine I'm a helpless baby, but actually I created the universe! Such thinking is a "person on the street" version of an ancient heresy called docetism from the Greek word dokein for seem or appear -- that Christ only seemed to be human.

In actuality, while it is true that the Son of God in the womb, at birth, and throughout life always retained the divine qualities of total power and knowledge, Philippians 2 says that He had placed the exercise of these powers at the discretion of God the Father. Christ's awareness that he was God came when the Father willed it and it was the same with his great acts of power and insight. Jesus said in John 5:19, "I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by Himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does." As Leon Morris says, "It is not simply that he does not act in independence of the Father. He cannot act in independence of the Father."

Christ grew from infancy, through childhood, adolescence, young adulthood and into maturity in both body and mind. His body developed, as did his mind and emotions. Not only that, but both as a child and through adulthood he experienced human emotions -- anger and joy and sorrow. He thought like a child before he thought like a man -- he knew the same range of human emotions as we did as he grew to maturity. Jesus became like His brothers and sisters in all things.

Jesus came along side of us at Christmas. And the reason He became like us, Hebrews 2:11 says, it to make us like Him -- to make us holy. C.S. Lewis says it this way -- that the "Son of God became a man so that men could become sons of God."

Jesus becaome our brother. And we must never underestimate the power of a brother’s love.

I want to tell you a true story of what love can do that appeared in Women’s Day. I want to assure you I didn;t get it directly from the source. I got it from a more macho place called the imnternet. It’s a story about a birth.

"When Karen found out that another baby was on the way, she did what she could to help her 3-year-old son, Michael, prepare for a new sibling. They found out that the new baby was going to be a girl, and day after day, night after night, Michael sang to his sister in Mommy's tummy. He was building a bond of love with his little sister before he even met her. The pregnancy progressed normally for Karen, an active member of the Panther Creek United Methodist Church in Morristown, Tennessee. In time, the labor pains came. Soon it was every five minutes, every three, every minute. But serious complications arose during delivery and Karen found herself in hours of labor.

Finally, after a long struggle, Michael's little sister was born. But she was in very serious condition. The ambulance rushed the infant to the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary's Hospital, Knoxville, Tennessee. The days inched by. The little girl got worse. The pediatric specialist regretfully had to tell the parents, "There is very little hope. Be prepared for the worst." Karen and her husband contacted a local cemetery about a burial plot. They had fixed up a special room in their home for the new baby - but now they found themselves having to plan for a funeral.

Michael, however, kept begging his parents to let him see his sister. "I want to sing to her," he kept saying. Week two in intensive care looked as if a funeral would come before the week was over. Michael kept nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never allowed in Intensive Care.

Karen made up her mind, though. She would take Michael whether they liked it or not! If he didn't see his sister right then, he may never see her alive. She dressed him in an oversized scrub suit and marched him into ICU. He looked like a walking laundry basket. But the head nurse recognized him as a child and bellowed, "Get that kid out of here now! No children are allowed!"

The mother rose up strong in Karen. The usually mild-mannered lady glared steel-eyed right into the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line. "He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!"

Karen towed Michael to his sister's bedside. He gazed at the tiny infant losing the battle to live. After a moment, he began to sing. Michael sang: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey."

Instantly the baby girl seemed to respond. The pulse rate began to calm down and become steady. "Keep on singing, Michael," encouraged Karen with tears in her eyes. "You never know, dear, how much I love you, Please don't take my sunshine away-"

As Michael sang to his sister, the baby's ragged, strained breathing became as smooth as a kitten's purr. "Keep on singing, sweetheart!!!"

"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms..." Michael's little sister began to relax as rest, healing rest, seemed to sweep over her. "Keep on singing, Michael." Tears had now conquered the face of the stern head nurse. Karen glowed.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don't, take my sunshine away."

The next, day --.the very next day -- the little girl was well enough to go home! Woman's Day Magazine called it "The Miracle of a Brother's Song." The medical staff just called it a miracle. Karen called it a miracle of God's love!

In the same way, Christmas is a miracle of God’s love. Jesus comes and sings us into life. He touches our heads and calls each of us by name. He makes us holy. He says, "You are one with me and I am one with you."

As you come to receive the Lord’s Supper, hear Jesus calling you by name and saying to you, "I’m proud to call you my sister. I’m proud that you are my brother."

Never underestimate the power of a brother’s love -- especially when that Brother is Jesus.