I Am The Reed Realizing our own condition

Estimated reading time: 3 minute(s)

I recently re-read a post here from three years ago. It is titled Fragile. I recommend revisiting it, if you have the time today. Good thoughts on how we can all make this a better world simply through an awareness of the condition of others (even if we can’t see their condition with our eyes).

Tonight I had a different thought.

While this might sound arrogant (and who knows, perhaps it is?) I am generally looking at my life as a number of opportunities to see God working in and around me, and to be like Jesus to the world he has placed me in. To treat others the way I would want to be treated. To give myself for the benefit and betterment of others. (See this post, also.)

I want to be Jesus.

There is no doubt in my mind that I can not be Jesus. I can’t even really believe (at the moment I am typing this) that I have ever thought I could be. (I am pretty sure I’ve written the exact words, or something near them, in many of my songs.)

It’s of course not something peculiar to just me. I think I’ve heard the name “Christian” means “little Christ” … and we are the body of Christ, his hands and feet, and there is merit to the intellectual notion of this “being Jesus”. (Kind of.)

But truly, sometimes (maybe someday I will learn that it is always) … we are the reed.

“Look at my Servant, whom I have chosen.
    He is my Beloved, who pleases me.
I will put my Spirit upon him,
    and he will proclaim justice to the nations.
He will not fight or shout
    or raise his voice in public.
He will not crush the weakest reed
    or put out a flickering candle.
    Finally he will cause justice to be victorious.
And his name will be the hope
    of all the world.”¹

I always read (no pun intended) that passage as though I am supposed to be Jesus. When I am given a chance to see someone who has been so beaten down by life, whether circumstances beyond their control, or their own choices, and they are a “bruised reed” (as another translation puts it), my role is to be like Jesus and not crush, be kind, gentle; simply aware of their fragility.

But right now, I think that is me.

I actually don’t even know what to do with this beyond just knowing that HE is the one who will not crush the weakest reed, or put out a flickering candle. Jesus is the one. He is.

Not me. And I never was.

Maybe he is teaching me something. (Maybe you, too, if you are reading this and thinking, yeah… I never really saw it that way.)

I believe that it is still right to observe the way Jesus treats people and do the same. Definitely.

But sometimes, we are the people.

Again, maybe always.

Thank you, Jesus.