I Learned Innocence from My Daughter

In Matthew 27, Judas realizes that his betrayal would lead to the death of Christ. So he runs to those who gave him the blood money and exclaimed, "I have sinned by betraying innocent blood," (4). It isn't clear here if Judas meant that Jesus was not guilty, or if he finally realized that his master, the Christ, was perfect. The scriptures make clear that Christ came into the world as he left it: sinless. Paul says in 2 Corinthians that he "knew no sin" (5:21) and the author of Hebrews said that Jesus is "one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin," (4:15). Hebrews goes on to say, unequivocally, that the Christ is "holy, blameless, unstained, separated from sinners, exalted above the heavens," (7:26). This was of course necessary for Christ to stand as a propitiation on our behalf. Were he at all marred by sin, he could not have been a substitute. Until recently, however, I had not understood the gravity of this transaction. The killing of an innocent, the only innocent.

I think that it is hard for humans to understand the perfection of Christ. His adulthood brought with it all our peculiar oddities. But more than that, we are so used to the imperfection of adults that it is nearly impossible to see Jesus for who he is. This is how it was for me until one Christmas. My wife had been cast as Mary in a small reenactment of the Nativity account. For once in my life, I found myself sitting with everyone else. As she came in with Joseph, I immediately saw she was holding a baby. I had forgotten they weren't go to use a doll. As I started at that beautiful little boy, one penetrating image entered my mind. Though graphic, it was an image of that tiny boy nailed to a cross.

I firmly believe that even babies have a sinful nature. But they are the most perfect amongst us. Their bodies are still relatively pure. Every adult has been worn down by sin the same way junkies are worn down by heroine. But newly born babies are different. There is a reason we use the phrase, "Innocent child." They are, for the most part, pure. But think then on Christ, the one who has no sinful nature. Think about that man nailed to the cross, more perfect than any child, more innocent than any baby.

And so I think about my daughter. She points to the perfection of Christ. He, the "lamb without blemish or spot," was wholly undeserving of his punishment, yet bore the penalty anyway.