Bored With the Christmas Story

The Christmas story we’ll tell and celebrate this week is the same story that’s been told for the past two-thousand years. Nothing has changed about it. And because nothing has changed, there’s an inherent danger presented to us—boredom.

You might be bored with that story right now. Even thinking ahead to going to a church service, listening to the same songs, hearing the same passage or passages of Scripture being read might be enough to make you wish you could just fast-forward through all that same old, same old.

But you don’t have to be bored with it, if you don’t want to. You can resist the boredom by reminding yourself of the actual story. This isn’t a rebellion against the Christmas or anything like that—I think we’re still free to enjoy all that fun. It’s a chance to remember where we came from and why Christmas has any meaning for us at all.

For thousands of years, God’s people had been struggling as they followed him. The struggle didn’t start with Moses, and it didn’t start with Abraham. Adam and Eve found that they struggled in the garden. This pattern continued through Abraham, through Moses, into the judges, kings, and prophets. God’s people had a hard time finding a consistent footing as they tried to follow keep in step with him.

The result was exile. First, a spiritual one, then a physical exile.

While reflecting on the human condition, the prophet Jeremiah said that, “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure” (Jeremiah 17:9, NIV). The teacher in Ecclesiastes said that, “The hearts of people, moreover, are full of evil and there is madness in their hearts while they live” (Ecclesiastes 9:3, NIV). The prophet Isaiah, speaking a word of condemnation and warning over God’s people, made clear their fate if they continued in their folly as he said, “ ‘Be ever hearing, but never understanding; be ever seeing, but never perceiving.’ Make the heart of this people calloused; make their ears dull and close their eyes” (Isaiah 6:9-10, NIV).

If this wasn’t enough, God’s people continually found themselves “outside” of where and what they were made for. First, Adam and Eve were removed from the garden and prevented from returning. Next the new people of God were in slavery for 400-years in Egypt. Next, they were unable to find the promised land as they wandered the wilderness. Next, because of Moses’s disobedience—and the disobedience of an entire generation of Israelites—they were unable to finally enter the newly found promised land. From there, their exile continued as God’s people found themselves under judges and kings who treated them poorly, resulting in another exile, this time to Babylon.

Within this struggle, though, there was a hope laid out for God’s people. A hope that he would make all things new. A hope that this pattern of exile would finally end. Long before the apostle John wrote Revelation, the prophet Isaiah talked about a new heavens and a new earth. 2 Chronicles and the prophet Malachi both shared a similar hope of God doing something that he hadn’t done before—perhaps arriving to rule and reign as the true king.

After the last words of the Old Testament there were many, many years where the people waited. They knew what had been promised, and they held out hope for the promise, but it wasn’t always easy. They grew restless. They started to wonder if God was really going to do what he said he was going to do. Generation after generation would pass down this hope, reminding those who came after of what was promised. And then something miraculous happened.

Paul tells it like this:

Who [Jesus], being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross!

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Philippians 2:6-11, NIV)

God stepped into this world in a way he had never done before. In the ancient past God was just a little bit removed from his people. Sure, he was walking with Adam and Eve in the garden, and he was going before them in the exodus, and he was present in the temple, and the prophets were his mouthpiece, but he was still unapproachable in some real sense. That is, until, he made himself nothing. God—the one uncreated being in the entire universe—became like those he created—you and me. He became a human being in the person of Jesus. He became what he was not, so you and I could be finally be what we were created to be—fully human.

Not only that, but as a human being he humbled himself—even to the point of death on a cross. God, himself, not only willingly stepped into humanity, but willingly stepped into death. Because of that he has been exalted above everyone and everything else. All honor and glory belongs to him.

This all happened because God became a human being. The cross, the resurrection, the ascension, the exaltation, the second coming, and the new heaven and new earth, are all a result of what happened on that first Christmas day.

How can we be bored with a story like that?

This story we’re a part of, this story that we get to tell and pass on to our kids, this story that makes everything else we believe in a reality is worth leaning into in a fresh way each year. We might be bored with doing the same things year after year, but let’s not confuse that with being bored about the God of the universe becoming a human being.

That was a miracle, and miracles are never boring.

With Just a Sentence

John Piper is fond of saying, “Books don’t change people, paragraphs do — sometimes sentences.” To his credit, he does quickly iron out this statement by explaining that he doesn’t think books are a waste of time—he’s written over 50 of them!—it’s just that it’s difficult told hold an entire thesis of a book in your head at once.

He’s not wrong.

I’m working through a massive 1,300 page systematic theology book right now and, when I’m finished with it, I will have forgotten most of what the author wrote. What I won’t forget, however, are those handful of places where what he wrote made me stop reading and reflect on what I just read.

This same thing happens to me when I read the first page of John’s gospel.

Believe it or not, but I don’t really get hung up anymore with the language of the Word being with God and God, himself. Probably because I’ve fooled myself into believing I know what John is talking about. But, nearly every time I get to verse 14, I can’t continue until after I’ve had time to take a few breaths.

“And the Word became a human being and made his home with us.”

With just a sentence (not even a full sentence in Greek) John gives us one of the greatest mysteries to ever be known…ever. The Word of God, who had existed forever prior to what happened in John 1, stepped down into humanity, not to have a look around to see how things were going and then quickly remove himself, but to become (egeneto) what human beings are.

Literally, John says that the word (ho logos) became flesh (sarx). In other words, he became precisely what makes us who we are. He, who was forever truly God, continued to be truly God but took upon himself the nature of humanity. As Paul puts it (better than I ever could) in Philippians 2, Jesus (the Word of God), “…emptied himself, by taking the the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men” (Phil. 2:7).

But, he didn’t leave it at that. Jesus was not content with merely becoming what we are, he wanted to live with us—as has been the goal of God ever since the beginning and will be the realized reality in the age to come (see Genesis 1-3 and Revelation 21-22). As John puts it, this Word became flesh made his home (eskenosen) with us!

This is, for me, why Christmas is so meaningful—and, grows more meaningful with each passing year. It’s the reason why I have to pause almost every time I read John 1:14a.

Jesus not only became what he was not (and remains that to this day), he stepped down into this broken world full of broken people to make his home with us, so that some day we will be able to have our home with him—forever.

A home in a made new world full of made new people…all because of the reality contained in one sentence in John.

A Moment on the Scriptures: The Theology of Christmas (9)

Systematic theology is all over the ancient creeds and confessions of the early Christian church and here, with the Athanasian creed, as it discusses the unity of the person of Jesus, it’s as dense as it gets.

The creed reads: He is one, certainly not by the blending of his essence, but by the unity of his person. 

That which made the Son of God, the Son of God, did not change during the incarnation. We saw that much in the previous statement, and through the words of Paul in Philippians 2. Instead of the Son of God being changed by becoming a human being, he took upon himself humanity and, thus, remained as he was and always had been: the Son of God from all eternity.

This truth leaves us with the wonderfully complex and mystifying reality that Jesus Christ, is one within himself while being God and man. There is no hint of a complex unity of persons like there is within the godhead (see Genesis 1:26: then God said, “Let us make man in our image.”). 

There is not a fractured existence with Jesus where his divinity and humanity are fighting it out with one another. As we saw before, Jesus is truly and completely God while, through his incarnation, being truly and completely man.

In the one person of Jesus—the Son of God—there is unity. There is unity between the natures of Jesus, just like there is unity among the persons within the Trinity. It is impossible to speak of the biblical God without assuming the existence of the Trinity. In a similar manner, following the incarnation, it is impossible to speak of the existence of Jesus without assuming the reality of his divinity and humanity.

To put it another way: God is complex, therefore, the Son of God is complex. However, his complexity is not a barrier to keep us from him; instead, it’s an invitation to come and see, and worship this Jesus.

A Moment on the Scriptures: The Theology of Christmas (8)

How does something like the incarnation happen?

The Athanasian Creed does its best to give a succinct answer to this question by saying: He is one, however, not by his divinity being turned into flesh, but by God’s taking humanity to himself.

To be clear, and this is where numerous creeds and confessions are so helpful, this creed is cautious to clarify what it means by saying that the Son of God became a human being. He did not become a human being by being turned into a man. Instead, he became a human being by taking flesh upon himself (i.e., being incarnated).

Again, whenever we can turn to Scripture to substantiate a section of the creed (which is an end to which we should always be pursuing) this will help us better understand what the early drafters of the creed meant by what they wrote. The Apostle Paul puts it like this in Philippians 2: “who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men” (Philippians 2:6-7, ESV).

I’d like to focus on one phrase in that statement by Paul: taking the form of a servant. In Greek, the phrase is: μορφὴν δούλου λαβών. The last word in the Greek phrase is what helps us understand what’s going on here. It’s a Greek word that often means I take or I receive. In this sense, it clearly means, I take. Paul shows us by using the word λαβών that the being of the Son of God didn’t change through the incarnation. 

Admittedly, it’s splitting hairs, but it’s important.

When the Son of God became a man he did it without changing the essence of who he was; instead, he did it by taking upon himself humanity. You might say that the Son of God added humanity to himself. Or, if you want to stick close to the words of Paul, then Jesus took the form of a servant.

A Moment on the Scriptures: The Theology of Christmas (7)

At this point in working through the Athanasian Creed, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to start thinking of Jesus as two different people or beings.

We have been witnessing how the creed can speak of his divinity and humanity as two separate and distinct aspects of his person. So, this ultimately leads to two people, right?

Again, thankfully the creed is on top of this and works to clear up any misunderstandings.

Although he is God and man, yet Christ is not two, but one.

According to the creed, it would be incorrect to assume that because Jesus is God and man that he is somehow two beings or two persons. This is not the testimony of the creed and neither is it the testimony of the Scriptures. We’ve seen what the creed says on the matter, now let’s look at what the Scriptures say in the Gospel of John. 

In John 1, we read: “In the beginning was the λόγος (Word, singular)…and the λόγος (Word, singular) became flesh and dwelt among us, and we saw αὐτοῦ (his, singular) glory” (John 1:1, 14). I want to point out just a few things that I think are crucial for our understanding of who Jesus is based on this particular text.

1.  John’s usage of λόγος (Word) in verse 1 and 14 are singular. Grammatically, there is no hint of a plurality of persons or beings in the one Jesus. In the beginning was the Word; not the Words.

2. John says, “we saw his glory” in verse 14. Again, the grammar of the word choice makes a big difference. The word, in Greek, for “his” is αὐτοῦ, and αὐτοῦ is—you guessed it—singular. John is not speaking of multiple beings or persons here. Instead, he is speaking of the one Word of God who became flesh.

The question is: Does this make sense? How in the world can we believe in one person being God and man? The truth is you and I can’t look anywhere else in the world to see this sort of thing happening. But, this does not mean we’re left without a testimony. We have the Scriptures and we are bound by grace to them. And, in the good providence of God, we have testimonials written by fervent Christians of old like what we’ve seen in the Athanasian Creed.

A Moment on the Scriptures: The Theology of Christmas (6)

What are we to make of those places in the New Testament when it’s clear that Jesus is on the same level as the Father and then, in other places, is not as great as the Father? Is it fair to just toss up our hands and pronounce the charge of inconsistency within the text?

The Athanasian Creed can be of help to us with exactly this situation when it says:equal to the Father as regards divinity, less than the Father as regards humanity.

Equality and inferiority: the creed says that Jesus has both of them when it comes to his relationship with the Father. Specifically, when it comes to his incarnaterelationship with the Father.

When we’re talking about his divinity—that which makes him God (his Godness) he is equal to the Father, because he and the Father are God. Remember that the creed says that Jesus is God from the essence of his Father. That being said, when it comes to his humanity, he is lesser than the Father, because the Father is God and did not become a human being. Paul speaks of Jesus’s incarnation by using the words emptying and humility. Something happened to Jesus as he took humanity onto himself by becoming a human being.

The creed is certainly helpful here, but what is of more help is what the Scriptures say on their own about Jesus. In the Gospel of John, Jesus is recorded as saying two seemingly contradictory things within just a few chapters of each other. In John 10, Jesus says, “I and the Father are one” (John 10:31, ESV). Now, this could be taken as Jesus saying that he and Father are the same person, but this sort of interpretation fails quickly as we consider that Jesus prays to the Father and the Father guides, leads, and speaks to him. Considering those realities, Jesus must be speaking toward his status in relationship to the Father. There is a real sense in which there is no difference between the Father and the Son in relation to their divinity. 

In the opposite (but just as true) direction, Jesus says, in John 14, “the Father is greater than I” (John 14:28b, ESV). Did Jesus forget what he said previously? Did he change his mind in that short time? Was he schizophrenic in his understanding of who he was and is? I think it’s clearly a no to all of those questions. Jesus can, at one time, speak to his equality to the Father as God and, then at another time, speak to his inferiority to the Father as a human being.

A Moment on the Scriptures: The Theology of Christmas (5)

Is it really possible that Jesus was made to be—through his incarnation—just as we are?

Thankfully, as we’ve seen with other truths about Jesus, the Athanasian Creed helps us here when it says: completely God, completely man, with a rational soul and human flesh; 

Again, the creed makes clear that in the writers’ minds, Jesus is God and man. Specifically, they say that Jesus is completely God and completely man. Notice the word usage of “completely” instead of “fully” or even what the creed said early in that Jesus is God and man, “equally”. Historic Christian theology has regularly and consistently spoken of Jesus as being complete or even total in his humanity and in his divinity. That which makes him a real human being like you and me, is just as present in the one person of Jesus as that which makes him God. It’s who he was and, even in his resurrected state, who he is.

The creed goes further in its clarity by also saying that Jesus has a “rational” or (depending on the translation of the creed) a “reasonable” soul. What I think the creed is getting at here, with some difficult to understand language, is again that Jesus was a real person. Often in the Scriptures, the soul is used as way to describe life—or even just a living person. This is the point being driven at here.

You and I have a rational soul—or, if we’re using the language of C. S. Lewis, we might say that we are rational souls, because we’re living real people. Along with that, we have bodies. Our flesh is real. The same is said of Jesus because, again, that’s how the New Testament describes him. He was (and is) a real person with a body like ours. 

A Moment on the Scriptures: The Theology of Christmas (4)

Depending on your Christian perspective and background, it’s sometimes easier to think of Jesus being God than it is to think of him being an actual person.

This is another area where the ancient ecumenical creeds, and especially the Athanasian Creed, can be extremely beneficial to us. In our walk through a small section of the Athanasian Creed, we’ve come to this statement: and he is man from the essence of his mother, born in time;

As you might remember, we just talked through the idea that Jesus is God from the essence of the Father and that he has been coming (or proceeding) from the Father for all eternity past.

To put it into slightly other words, there was not a moment in all of eternity past when the Son was not coming from the Father. I believe that to be true. I also believe it to be true that there was a moment in time when the Son of God became the Son of Mary. Paul puts it like this: “But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman” (Galatians 4:4a, NIV).

The Son of God has been God forever. In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. But the Son of God has not always been a human being. There was a moment when he was not a human and then, in the next moment at his conception, he was a human. This, unlike his pre-incarnate existence, which had been occurring prior to any human existence, occurred within the time of human existence.

Along the same lines, the Son of God—in time—is from the essence of his mother—Mary. What makes him a human being? Something about his connection to, and coming from, his mother. The Son of God is a human being because he has taken upon himself humanity. And, in the good pleasure of the triune God, this has been done through the Son of God’s being born of a woman.

A Moment on the Scriptures: The Theology of Christmas (2)

When it comes down to it, is Christianity simply an incoherent set of belief systems?

Christians believe that the Bible was written by real people who lived thousands of years ago and yet we believe that God is the author of those same Scriptures. Christians also believe that the God we worship is one and yet three at the same time—one being in three persons, or three persons in one being. Also, Christians believe that a man was killed by being nailed upon a cross and then came back to life three days later.

Finally, Christians believe that Jesus was somehow God and man at the same time. This is where the creed comes in. It reads: Now this is the true faith: that we believe and confess that our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is both God and man, equally. 

According to the authors of the creed, they believe that the true faith is believing that Jesus is both God and man equally. That last word in the sentence is interesting. I think, for most of us, when we talk about Jesus being God and man, we like to say that he’s fully God and fully man. That’s helpful, but it also it’s less precise than we might be able to be.

When we think of things as being full, there’s only one sense in which they can be full. They can’t be full twice. If a cup is full of water and then you pour milk in it, some of the water will overflow out. This then is applied to Jesus and his humanity and divinity. Jesus is fully God and then some humanity is dumped in, which causes some of his divinity to overflow out. This, however, is now what the creed, nor the Scriptures say.

The Scriptures do not present a Jesus who is partly God and partly human that somehow make up a new being. Instead, they present a Jesus who is equally God and human at the same time. We cannot say that he is God over and above him being a human. Neither can we say that he is a human over and above him being God. 

The same Scriptures that present Jesus forgiving sins in Mark 2: “But I want you to know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins” (Mark 2:10a, NIV)—doing only what God can do—also present Jesus as eating food: “While Jesus was having dinner at Levi’s house, many tax collectors and sinners were eating with him and his disciples, for there were many who followed him” (Mark 2:15, NIV)—doing what humans do.