The Savior Likes to be Called the Son of Man

“Good morning, Pastor,” I once wrote in an email before dawn. He had encouraged our church to read The Gospel of Mark to see what we might discover.

The action-packed narrative reads like a novel so I was hooked from the beginning.  

“I’m impressed with Jesus calling Himself the Son of Man.” I further wrote to my pastor. “He seems to like this title. I’m so thrilled He does. I like how the Savior identifies with my humanness. I’m reminded that the Savior garbed Himself with flesh that I might be saved.  He now sits at the right hand of God,the Father, and intercedes for me.  He remembers my need is still so great. Anyway, my rambling comes from listening to your sermon.  Just wanted you to know.”

Daylight came too soon. I closed my Bible and laptop to meet the demands of that day. Yet the notion of the Savior calling Himself the Son of Man stayed with me. 

It’s with me still.  Especially when I read Mark 10: 36-45. 

In these verses, I find two of the Savior's disciples are quite ambitious. They lobby for the best position in the kingdom. They want the spots right next to Jesus. The other ten disciples are quite indignant about it, too.  Yet in tenderness, Jesus calls them all close to Himself. He explains that what they are seeking is not His to give. He explains that whoever wants to be the greatest in His kingdom must become a servant.  He tells them:

For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.
                                                              (Mark 10:45 – NIV)

This verse goes straight to my core because I discover the motive of the Savior's ministry. It’s so pure. So self-less. I discover myself, too. Because, even in my own quiet and introverted ways, I’m like those two disciples lobbying for best spots. I’ve never been terribly ambitious, but I still want to be great. I want to be influential. I want to be honored. Especially when it comes to my writing.  And truthfully . . . I’m not unlike the other ten disciples either – indignant that Jesus might grant another greatness over me.  

Yes, I know .  . . . it’s called pride. And it’s ugly. It’s the sin that so easily entangles me that I read about in Hebrews 12:1(NIV).

Yet in tenderness, Jesus, the Savior, who calls Himself the Son of Man, continually calls me close to Himself.  And in still times when I ponder the Scriptures, I discover that I really want to be humble. Humble people are like Jesus. Humble people have a way of making me feel safe and valued. It’s like this:  

Consider others better than yourselves . . . Let your attitude be the same as that of Christ Jesus . . . being in the very nature God . . . made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant . . . being made in human likeness . . . he humbled himself and became obedient to death – even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:3-8 NIV)
 
When I read this verse, I ponder anew the motive of the Savior. 

I imagine an ancient scene where the Savior de-robes Himself of splendor. He puts it all into the closet. He locks it all away. He even puts the key away until a later time. A time not yet known. God, the Father, then sends the Savior into the womb of a young virgin via the power of the Holy Spirit. This all makes for a monumental moment. Angels sing. They slap high-wings over such a truly humble act. I can just see it all. It makes me smile. 

  John 1:1, 2 and 14 (NIV) says it so beautifully:

In the beginning was the Word; and the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

And so, this motive of pure humility drove the Savior from the grandeur of heaven. He exchanged true splendor for swaddling clothes. A scant loin cloth, a wooden cross and a borrowed tomb came next. All because He came to serve. 

Yet it gets even better. The Savior vacated the tomb. He now sits again next to God, the Father.  He still identifies with my humanness by interceding for me. He continues to serve. And He's so good at it.

That early morning when I emailed my pastor, he later replied:  

“Wow! Somebody was listening!:) How precious you have noticed that the Son of God became the Son of Man.”

So true, pastor.  Jesus, the Savior likes to be called the Son of Man. I discovered it by reading The Gospel of  Mark.