The Logic of Kenosis #TheLonging16thDays

There is a mystery that keeps calling me deeper, the mystery of the Son of Man.

Every time I read His words, every time I watch Him walk through the pages of Mark’s Gospel, something inside me trembles. The divine, I thought, must reveal itself in splendor. Yet He chose the dust. He chose hunger, rejection, and the trembling of human hands.

I begin to see it now, the strange, inverted logic of heaven. The more He emptied Himself, the fuller He became. The lower He bowed, the higher glory descended upon Him. This is the logic of kenosis, the sacred paradox that undoes my proud reasoning.

Mark begins by calling Him the Son of God, but Jesus never seems to defend that title. Instead, He hides it beneath the phrase Son of Man, as if divinity must be veiled within frailty. And perhaps that is the secret: that only a human heart can contain the fullness of divine love.

I used to think becoming godly meant becoming less human, more spiritual, detached, invulnerable. But when I gaze upon the Son of Man, I see something else. Holiness does not flee humanity; it fulfills it. He did not escape the dust; He sanctified it. Every tear, every touch, every wound became the dwelling place of God.

Sometimes I wonder if I, too, can live that way, to walk the earth as He did, carrying heaven within the weakness of my flesh. The thought both humbles and awakens me. Because the moment I try to be the Son of God by power, I lose Him. But when I live as the Son of Man, serving, listening, forgiving, something divine begins to rise quietly within me.

The world still shouts the Roman creed: Power proves divinity. But at the cross, a centurion trained to worship Caesar looked upon the dying Jesus and whispered the truth: Truly, this man was the Son of God.

That is the logic I cannot unlearn. God revealed through surrender. Glory unveiled through pain. Life born through death.

And so I find myself drawn again to this mystery, longing not for triumph but for participation, for the courage to be human as He was human. To let compassion triumph over control, mercy over mastery, surrender over certainty.

I think this is what it means to follow Him, to live the divine logic of kenosis. To let go of everything that tries to prove my worth, and instead allow love to flow through my weakness. For when I live like the Son of Man, my true nature as a child of God begins to shine, not by effort, but by grace that fills the emptied vessel.