“Do you believe that Jesus died in the sense that if you had been there that day, you could have rubbed your finger on the cross and got a splinter in it?”
--Francis Schaeffer, The God Who Is There
I read that simple, elegant question as a senior in high school, and it's stuck with me for almost seven years now. How profoundly that illustrates the unique historical revelation of the Gospels; instead of revealing himself through a lengthy vision or message that could only be seen/translated by one lucky individual, God showed up on earth to be seen, heard, even touched by anyone who was able. The disciples' letters in the New Testament often reaffirm this sensory proof; 1 John refers to "[t]hat which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched."
They saw a man walking over the deep sea; they saw the blind and lame healed; but most importantly, they saw a dead man--dead from an extremely thorough, conclusive form of murder--alive, still sporting his wounds but eating and drinking, walking and talking. Their insistence upon claiming they sensed these things led virtually all of them to a life of constant persecution and eventually execution.
It's with that in mind that I present the end result of my obsession with Schaeffer's question, "I Could Get a Splinter,"
a song that's far too serious for me, given all the anti-hipster hipster cred I've built up with constant sarcasm and above-it-all potshots. I hope that this song, as well as its B-side, "Who Could Have Known," help you feel a little bit of wonder at the Incarnation and how God became a man so that we could be forgiven for constantly choosing our self-destructive autonomy over his perfection.
Merry Christmas, everyone.