To be a Nosmo

I've been thinking a lot about Jesus' visit to Nazareth (Mark 6). His reception was less than welcoming-to say the least. It is hard for me to fathom the Son of God, second member of the Trinity allowing Himself to be born into such a low family surrounded with such scandalous intrigue. After all, the All-knowing God of the universe could have been born into a family of influence, power and respect. He could have chosen a more polished veneer, he could have chosen to be the son of a scholar and receive the very best education. He could have opted to grow up with princes and noblemen. Why did he choose a lowly carpenter, why did he set himself up to be pegged as that poor bastard boy?

I remember reading a story of a journalist tasked with writing about the most insignificant man he could find. After much searching, he found the perfect candidate. He began interviewing the man, his few friends and family. During the course of the interview with the man's mother, he asked how she came up with the unusual (and as such, the most interesting part of the man) name, Nosmo King. The mother confessed that she was illiterate. Upon the birth of her son, and the consequent filling out of the birth certificate, she copied from a sign which read No Smoking. That is insignificant.

But Jesus set an example for us. He chose to wrap His very Godness in insignificance. He chose 12 very insignificant men. Why? Because He is jealous of His own glory. His Sovereignty demands it. It is only through weakness and frailty that the power of God can be manifest to humanity.

We are jars of clay. Privy pots, carrying around within ourselves the very high and magnificent, most eternally precious treasure in all earth and heaven!

Forgive me Lord, for desiring to be Someone, when I should be content to be a Nosmo so You can be clearly seen by all.