The Humanity of Jesus

For we have not 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 sinning.  – Hebrews 4:15 (RSV)

            This probably won’t come as a surprise to you, but the Christmas season tends to get me thinking about Jesus and the Incarnation (enfleshing).  One of the ideas that really struck me this past semester as I was reading through Tom Oden’s Classic Christianity was the scandal of particularity.  I used to think Jesus had encountered every sort of joy, suffering, and circumstance imaginable to humanity.  In my mind, Jesus was some generic personal catch-all for the totality of the human experience.  I thought that He in His human nature intimately knew all things in all times and all places.  But Oden brought up points that I had never considered previously.  The fact is, you and I, as well as everyone else who has ever lived, have encountered situations that Jesus Himself never did.

            It doesn’t take a brilliant theologian to figure out that Jesus never rode in a car.  He never talked on a phone, sent a text message, or used a computer.  He never spoke English, Chinese, Russian, or any other of the vast preponderance of modern languages that make up our world today.  He never voted in a public election, never wrote a research paper, and never tried His hand at the multiplicity of jobs we clock in for today.  Jesus never dated anyone or married.  He never invested in the stock market and wasn’t purely related to his nuclear family.  I could continue to negatively define Jesus’ life, but I think you get my point: there is a lot that Jesus didn’t do.

            So how is this 1^st century Jewish guy supposed to relate to us and how are we as 21^st century people supposed to relate to Him?  Can someone who never posted on Facebook or used an Apple product really sympathize with us in our 21^st century world of technocratic globalization?  The answer is yes, because by His choosing not to be a superhuman who experientially knew everything, Jesus is just like you and me.  Limited.  Vulernable.  He came from a certain family at a distinct time in history in a specific cultural context, as we all do.  This is what theologians have referred to as the scandal of particularity.

            Regardless of how culture and technology have modified how we interact down through the ages, some things remain fundamentally the same – things like God, humanity, and sin.  No, 1^st century Palestine did not have Wi-Fi, but it had people who loved, hated, argued, blessed, hurt, desired, won, failed, worked, cried, forgave, killed, and worshipped just as people do today.  At the root level, Jesus has sufficiently encountered all that it means to be human.  He wasn’t married, but he loved people and navigated relationships.  He most likely wasn’t abused as a child, but he took all the abuse and shame that the forces of evil had to throw at Him on the cross.  He knows loving acceptance and He knows painful rejection.  He knows the vigor of youth as well as what it’s like to get older and have aches and pains.  Human.  Yes, that’s the word. 

            Further, Jesus did not shed His humanity when He ascended into heaven, but He is still fully God and fully human.  He is representing us before God in His flesh, pleading the merits of His sacrifice over the Church and interceding for us according to our needs.  We have a sympathetic God-man in heaven mediating for us from the place of His own encounters with temptation and human experience.  We have a friend who is farther along than we are, who has wrestled with the same enticements and has overcome them, who can help us live as He did.

When we so eagerly desire to be gods, God the Son taking on flesh grabs our attention like a gunshot.  The great humility and sacrificial love present in Jesus’ humanity amazes me and challenges me – I hope that it always will.  In Jesus, God said yes to humanity through the Incarnation, He said yes to humanity all throughout Christ’s life on earth, He is still saying yes to humanity through the heavenly session of Christ, and He will always say yes to humanity when we worship the Triune God afresh with resurrected bodies.  Such a fixed, pursuing love for a rebellious creation goes beyond my capacity to understand and leaves me in awe.  What else could I do but believe and enter into this wonderful love relationship of grace and obedience? 

  So in the midst of my bouts with pain, doubt, fear, and apathy, I often find the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit reminding me: Yes, it is a good thing to be alive.  In Jesus, God says yes to abundant life and humanity.  Always. 

What answers do our lives give about life and humanity?