I John 4:1-3
Most of us have grown up accustomed to the critics who question the deity of Christ, the claim that Jesus of Nazareth was God, the Incarnate Deity. After all, some prominent people have denied the claim over the past few centuries. Voltaire, Rousseau, and even Thomas Jefferson couldn’t accept the incarnation. And we know many less famous people who believe Jesus was simply a good man, a great moral teacher, but no more. But what seems surprising is that in the early church there were those who questioned, not his deity, but his humanity.
One such group that appeared early on the scene held a position called Docetism. Coming from a Greek word meaning “to seem,” this teaching said that Jesus only seemed to be human. In fact, he wasn’t.
Bruce Milne explains the origins of Docetism, “Its roots lie in the Greco-Oriental convictions that matter is inherently evil and that God cannot be the subject of feelings or other human experiences.”[1]
John seems to have had such thinking in mind when he wrote his readers about how genuine faith demanded acknowledging that Jesus had “become a man and … come in the flesh.” (Amp) Later in the chapter he is especially pointed when he describes Jesus as having come “by water and blood.” Without going into the details that anyone witnessing the birth of a child can recall, that reference probably reflects an insistence that Jesus experienced a truly human birth.
For the most part, the suggestion that Jesus wasn’t really human belongs to the footnotes of historical theology. Again, as Milne points out, the teaching “was unacceptable because it cut the bridge between God and man at the [human] end; God did not really come to us, hence no effective sacrifice was made for our sin.”[2]
This isn’t to say there aren’t those in the 21st century who raise other issues regarding the humanity of Christ. Let me mention just one.
Some feminist theologians ask how a male Savior can be a woman’s savior. No male, they reason, can understand the difficulties, needs, and pains known by a woman. Now just how quickly these theologians would be to actually acknowledge and bow before a female Christ—one born of a Virgin, who died and rose again, one who demanded repentance from sin—is a question beyond the scope of this sermon. But, without denying that women have faced genuine oppression through the centuries, we also have to recognize that countless women have found genuine wholeness through their Christian faith and, in Jesus, they have seen what a man might be.
The Biblical view stresses humanity’s unity. There is no need for a female savior for women and a male savior for men. We need a human savior for us humans.
So, let’s turn to the matter of the humanity of Christ. I’m going to gather what I say under two points.
First, as we look at the Biblical picture of Jesus of Nazareth we find he is a human being like other human beings we have known.
I haven’t read a comic book in a long time. I used to read them: Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, the whole DC lineup. Then in my early teens I decided it was time “to put away childish things.” So, I got rid of my collection—burned it. If I had them today I’d probably be able to sell them and make a pretty nice profit on their original dime a copy price.
Anyway, if today’s vampires can stand around in the sunlight maybe Superman has changed too but as I recall, he could spend the whole day moving boulders the size of houses and sealing up volcanoes without breaking a sweat. I don’t remember him putting on his Clark Kent outfit, returning to the Daily Planet, and saying to Jimmy Olsen, “I’m famished. Let go to the all-you-can-eat pizza and chicken buffet.” Superman didn’t get tired, didn’t seem to get hungry. But, of course, Superman isn’t human. He’s what? A Kryptonian?
What seems to have been true for Superman wasn’t true for Jesus.
Several times in the gospels we see Jesus eating. In fact, some of his critics called him a glutton. The charge was certainly born of bias but it does suggest that Jesus didn’t go through life on a continual fast. Like a healthy human being, he enjoyed a good meal and socializing with others.
Of course, you’d expect that of one who had a balanced upbringing. Luke reports, “Jesus grew in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and all the people.” Jesus matured physically, intellectually, socially, and spiritually. Just like a healthy human being.
Jesus grew weary. After a long day of teaching Jesus needed a break. As Mark tells the story, “On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side.’
And leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. And other boats were with him. And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion.” (Mark 4:35-38)
And leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. And other boats were with him. And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion.” (Mark 4:35-38)
Like all of us, there were times when he was tired and needed rest.
The gospels tell another story involving Jesus and sleep. It was the night before the crucifixion and Jesus was about to face the greatest challenge yet. He went to the Gethsemane to pray, taking three of his closest disciples with him. While Jesus was in agony only a few yards away, the disciples slept. In this crucial moment, they had failed him. We could say a lot about that but I want to stress the point that, like all of us, there were times when Jesus desired human companionship.
Jesus was not a Stoic. He had genuine emotions. He knew anger, especially at injustice. He knew joy. Although the gospels never portray him laughing, he clearly had a sense of humor. In a very personal moment he stood outside the tomb if a friend and wept. People ask why, if he was going to resurrect Lazareth anyway? I think it must be because he could feel genuine sorrow for all the sorrowful.
As I was preparing this message, I came across one writer who observed that Jesus never knew the stress and pressure of family life, so how could he really be like us. It’s a mistake to define being human with having a spouse and children. Many of our fellow humans do, but many don’t. Jesus of Nazareth did not experience every human experience. Of course, no human experiences every human experience. I cannot experience both robust health and a lifetime of illness. I cannot die young on a battlefield far from home and die peacefully in my bed at a ripe old age, surrounded by my family. I cannot be in Ohio and in Texas at the same time, despite the miracle of Skyping. Like every human being, Jesus knew limitations.
Certainly the most telling proof of Jesus’ humanity came when he submitted himself to crucifixion. The early Christians sang of this, as Paul says in Philippians 2: “He became like a human being and appeared in human likeness. He was humble and walked the path of obedience all the way to death— his death on the cross.” The scourge did not leave Jesus’ back unmarked, the thorns of his crown didn’t break when his tormentors pushed it down onto his head, the nails that were to hold him to the cross did not bend when the Romans drove them into his hands. His physical sufferings were real, not an illusion.
Think of this, the Creator made himself subject to the limitations known by his creatures. The God who spoke the universe into existence was willing to walk the hot dusty roads of Palestine, speaking Aramaic with a Galilean accent.
Jesus was truly human.
Before I move on to the next point I need to deal with an issue that inevitably comes up when we deal with the Deity and Humanity Christ. That the second person of the Trinity could not stop being God seems to go without saying.[3] But, of course, saying just that raises some tough questions when we speak of the incarnation. How could Jesus be both God and man?
Exactly how Deity and Humanity existed within Jesus was a puzzle early Christian thinkers wrestled with earnestly. From the beginning it seems they insisted that whatever the final answer might be, nothing essential to Deity and nothing essential to humanity could be absent from Jesus.
Contrary to the claims of some popular writers, the church did not decide to deify Jesus sometime in the fourth century under the direction of Constantine.[4] University of Edinburgh New Testament scholar Larry Hurtado has carefully analyzed the writings of the earliest Christians and concluded that from the beginning these believers worshipped Jesus as God. All the while, they were insisting Jesus was also fully human.
The early creeds dealt with the issues raised by One who was both God and Man. In one sense, those creeds don’t so much explain the wonder as set parameters or boundaries in which they felt the final answer would someday be found. The search continues. The best thinkers of the church have been humble enough to acknowledge they haven’t explained it all. But the best thinkers of the church have also been so committed to loving God with their minds they haven’t given up pursuing answers.
For now, Christians affirm both that Jesus is truly God and truly human.
Now, let’s move on to another crucial matter. We have said that as we look at the Biblical picture of Jesus of Nazareth we find he is a human being like other human beings we have known.
But we can also say that…
As we look at the Biblical picture of Jesus of Nazareth we find he is a human being unlike any other human beings we have known.
Every man, woman, and child you have ever met bears the taint of sin. For most, its presence is obvious; for a very few, you must look carefully but it is there.
Since the fall a rebel flag has flown in every human heart—save one.
Looking back at his years with Jesus, John says, “You know that he appeared to take away sins, and in him there is no sin.” The writer of Hebrews says, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.” Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”
We’ll look as some of these verses more later, but for now think about what they imply.
Occasionally, you hear the question: Are we sinners because we sin or do we sin because we are sinners? It’s a great question to kick around. Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter. Most of us, when we are honest, will admit that even without the heritage of Adam’s sin, we would strike out on the way of sin on our own.
The story is told that one day Reinhold Niebuhr, one of 20th century America’s greatest theologians, returned home to learn his young children were being punished for being “naughty.” Their nanny tried to excuse their behavior by saying, “It’s the other children at the playground; they’re a bad influence.” Niebuhr answered, gesturing at his own children, “No, it’s because the little beggars are full of sin.”
We like to say a child will live up to our expectations. It’s a principle parents and educators are encouraged to incorporate into their day to day dealings with children. Yet, even when they have wholeheartedly embraced this notion by positive and optimistic encouragement, only the most naïve parent or inexperienced leader is truly surprised when a child is sometimes selfish or belligerent, fails to live up to that lofty ideal; when their little angels behave, however briefly, like little devils.
Jesus’ family, friends, and neighbors, though they might have believed him a wonderful child, would have expected him to someday, somehow, someway sin. He failed to live up to that expectation.
In this way, Jesus, who was so like us in so many ways, was unlike us. We are sinners, he wasn’t. We face temptation and, though victorious over some, we inevitably fail in the face of others. He never did.
The gospels focus on one episode of temptation at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry but make it plain that these were not the only temptations Jesus faced. Each time he was victorious.
His temptations were real and intense, certainly more intense than any we have ever faced. Why? You see, while we may have successfully resisted some temptations none of us has resisted every temptation. You might have struggled valiantly against the enticement before you surrendered but surrender you did. Imagine how much more severe the temptation would have been had you never surrendered.
Some might consider Jesus’ continuing victory over temptation and say, “No fair.” After all, Christians have generally argued that Jesus was born without the fallen nature. He didn’t have the fatal flaw every other human being was born with. Without the taint of original sin, He entered the battle with an unfair advantage.
In answering that, let’s look at some truths.
First, remember Paul portrays Jesus as “the second Adam.” By this he seems to mean that Jesus was reenacting the battle that plunged humanity into sin. Think of that first Adam. He too faced temptation without the “bent to sinning” his offspring would have.
So, Jesus had no more advantage than Adam had, perhaps less, since Jesus grew up surrounded by members of a fallen race while the first Adam had no such detriment.
Second, Jesus’ freedom from an innate sin nature by no means suggests the temptations were less severe. Bruce Milne offers an analogy.
Fortified cities have sometimes fallen to the enemy because there were traitors within the walls who conspired with the enemy. We might think of our sinful nature as an enemy within that contributes to our defeat.
Yet, even fortified cities filled with patriots and loyalists have fallen—when the assault has been severe enough. Jesus—though he possessed no sin nature—did face intense, unrelenting attack. Yet he never yielded.
Could Jesus have sinned, yielded to the temptations? Theologians have debated the question for centuries and have come up with two answers: Some say yes, some say no.
Deciding whether Jesus could or could not have sinned is beyond the scope of this sermon series. The question has been debated by theologians for centuries and will continue to be debated. I have no doubt Jesus faced temptations more severe than I have ever faced because, though I have sometimes been victorious over temptation, I haven’t always been. I have succumbed before the temptation achieved the severity Jesus faced and triumphed over. Though I understand the arguments that his Devine nature seems to have precluded the possibility of his sinning; I am just a little concerned that this means the contest between Jesus and the Tempter was “rigged,” that the fix was in before the temptations began. So, while I recognize that both positions are within the pale of orthodoxy, I going to admit that I lean toward the position that says the Second Adam faced a genuine rematch with Satan.
The important matter is this: Jesus who was in so many way like every human being we have ever known, was different in this one crucial way, he never sinned.
Implications of Christ’s Humanity
So, what does the fact that Jesus was Deity Incarnate mean? What are the implications of Christ’s humanity? I’m going to point out four, though there are probably more.
This truth confirms God’s commitment to us.
Historically, theologians have long used a term to describe that phase of Christ’s work from his birth through the crucifixion. It’s referred to as his “humiliation.” The God of the universe was willing to endure the constraints of human nature, rejection, and crucifixion to do for us what we could not do for ourselves.
This truth gives us a better view of what God is like and what he intends for us.
I have often said that if you want to know what God is like you should look at Jesus. It is equally true that if you want to know what God intended and intends for us humans, you should look at Jesus. in Jesus, we see what God had in mind when he made our unfallen parents.
This truth encourages us to look to Christ as one who understands.
The writer of Hebrews put it beautifully. He said, “…we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
He who walked as one of us understands us.
This truth assures us that his death was sufficient for our sins.
As sinners we could not solve the problem of our sin. Only one who was sinless could do that. John comforted his readers with the assurance that Jesus could deal with their sin.
My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.
He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.
He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.
That’s a great truth to cling to when we face the reality of our failures.
Conclusion:
We’ve looked at the twin truths of the Incarnation. Jesus is both fully God and fully human. As Paul wrote the Colossians, “in Christ lives all the fullness of God in a human body.”
We’ve been talking about deep matters. Christians throughout history have wrestled with these issues. With that in mind, I’d like to conclude this message by reading what our Christian forebears concluded in the fifth century (AD 451). It still guides us today. It’s called the Definition of Chalcedon. As you hear these words, remember that many who have recited them have done so, not as an intellectual exercise, but as an act of devotion.
Therefore, following the holy fathers, we all with one accord teach men to acknowledge one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, at once complete in Godhead and complete in manhood, truly God and truly man, consisting also of a reasonable soul and body; of one substance with the Father as regards his Godhead, and at the same time of one substance with us as regards his manhood; like us in all respects, apart from sin; as regards his Godhead, begotten of the Father before the ages, but yet as regards his manhood begotten, for us humans and for our salvation, of Mary the Virgin, the God-bearer; one and the same Christ, Son, Lord, Only-begotten, recognized in two natures, without confusion, without change, without division, without separation; the distinction of natures being in no way annulled by the union, but rather the characteristics of each nature being preserved and coming together to form one person and subsistence, not as parted or separated into two persons, but one and the same Son and Only-begotten God the Word, Lord Jesus Christ; even as the prophets from earliest times spoke of him, and our Lord Jesus Christ himself taught us, and the creed of the fathers has handed down to us.
[3] This sermon doesn’t lend itself to a discussion of the Trinity. This teaching, peculiar to Christianity, insists that God has always existed as one substance manifested in three Persons. To read more about it, look at Thomas Oden’s Classic Christianity or Timothy Keller’s King’s Cross.
[4] The interference by the emperor illustrates a key axiom in the church’s history: No matter how appealing it may seem, whenever the church and state are wed, the marriage is dysfunctional. What we know as orthodoxy didn’t become orthodoxy because the bishops agreed with the emperor, orthodoxy was already orthodoxy. It became official when the emperor finally agreed with the bishops.
