Meek and mild. A baby. A manger. Silent night, holy night. Quiet. Calm. Gentle. Words we think of this time of year. A far cry from the God who rolls away stones, but do not mistake meekness for weakness. No, meekness is the secret weapon of God. It is the least expected way of doing things. Lowly. Humble. Submissive. Easily imposed upon. Not words one would associate with those in power. That’s the trick. No one would expect God to show up in a manger. A palace maybe, but not a stable. Not a homeless refugee.
But just because he was meek, doesn’t mean he was weak. On the contrary, the meek are powerful. Growing to heal, set people free, and do miracles, the baby God was a weapon against the proud. He walked with authority, he didn’t have to declare it. He didn’t shout it out. He didn’t argue it. He stated it as fact and moved on. He demonstrated it rather than babbling on and on. He lived it.
Submitted himself to the plan. He was accused. He was blamed. He was hated. He said not a word in his own defense. He used meekness as a weapon. No arguing, and it threw them. He didn’t fight back and they didn’t know how to handle it. Even in his death, he allowed them to impose their will upon him. Meek and mild in the midst of hate. Gentle in the face of death. He hung on a tree to display it. They didn’t understand. Neither do we.
Brokenness causes pain and pain creates meekness. Humble hearts are deep hearts. They are quiet and they know they can do nothing on their own. They feel strongly. They break into pieces. They are passionate and empathetic. They rise at injustice, but they do not strive, they are meek and mild warriors. Look at history and you will find the most effective hearts, who changed the world, were the meek ones. They stood alone. They moved in determination, not insults. They walked with resolve, not offense. They were below not above, in meekness not in pride.
Meekness rises up and uses mercy to win the world; and the weary world rejoices. A God who submits to a baby. Such a different approach to power. A God who houses himself in flesh. His own and ours. What kind of God does that? A meek and mild warrior, who is gentle, loving and powerful enough…to save the world. The weary world rejoices, indeed.