Category Archives: Being God’s Beloved

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Being God’s Beloved: Day 26: Jesus Touched

Being God’s Beloved: Reflections on God’s Love.

Ten times in the Gospels we are told that Jesus “touched” people in the context of healing:

  • People suffering from leprosy (Matthew 8:3, Mark 1:41, Luke 5:13).
  • People with a fever (Matthew 8:15).
  • People who were blind (Matthew 9:29, 20:34, Mark 8:22).
  • People who were deaf (Luke 22:51).
  • People who were mute (Mark 7:33).
  • Dead people (Luke 7:14).

In nine passages, other people “touched” Jesus to obtain healing:

  • The woman who had been bleeding for 12 years (Matthew 9:20, Mark 5:27-31, Luke 8:44-47).
  • Many who were sick (Matthew 14:36, Mark 3:10, 6:56, Luke 6:19).
  • Children, though these appear to be more related to blessing than healing (Mark 10:13, Luke 18:15).

In addition Jesus “touched” the disciples during the transfiguration when they had fallen to the ground, saying, “Do not be afraid” (Matthew 17:7). And Jesus invited the disciples to “touch” his resurrected body as proof that he was not a ghost (Luke 24:39).

There are also other passages where touch is clearly implied even though the word “touch” is not used, for example in John 9:6-15, Jesus heals a blind man by making mud from saliva and dust and putting it on the man’s eyes.

Given that the Gospels are a selective presentation of Jesus’ actions, it is likely that these were typical of how he interacted with those in need. Jesus frequently, even typically, touched people in the process of healing them. I am always struck by how tactile Jesus was – the extent to which he wanted to be in physical contact with those he healed.

John 9:6 is evocative in its meaning: “[Jesus] spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes.” It reminds me of God creating Adam in the Genesis 2:7 narrative, which we studied on Day 4: “The Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” There is a similar use of mud and a similar use of one’s physical self (breath or saliva) and a similar result (life or sight). It suggests that Jesus’ healings were works of creation; that in healing someone of some illness, he was re-creating them, restoring them to the original design of God the Creator. It is as if Jesus remembers that illness and suffering were never part of God’s plan for humanity – these resulted from the Fall – and repeatedly desires to return us to our original state of wholeness and perfection. Healing as re-creation.

In my training of social work students in the skills and processes of counselling, I caution them about touch. Touch is a most powerful action, but unpredictable – comforting for some but traumatising for others. For those who have experienced abuse, a touch, no matter how well-intentioned, can evoke traumatic memories and elicit visceral reactions. The person may cry out in terror, lash out in rage, respond sexually or emotionally disintegrate. It is terribly hard to judge what kind of reaction you might get when you touch a vulnerable person. Particularly for young and inexperienced counsellors, and particularly when counselling someone of the gender to whom you are attracted, touch can cross a professional boundary and rapidly become sexualised rather than therapeutic. So for undergraduate students who are in the early stages of learning our craft, the rule is “no physical contact other than a handshake”.

But those in the medical profession will testify that physical contact, which is appropriate and inevitable in their trade, is seldom traumatising and most often comforting and encouraging. A doctor or nurse will press your body and ask, “Does this hurt? And how about here?” Their touch is evidence of their competence and of their caring. It conveys a sense of closeness and human connection. It evokes memories of being mothered, cuddled, caressed, nurtured. And so we commonly speak of someone as having a “healing touch”, because we easily associate touch with healing. A doctor who will not touch her or his patients might be considered no doctor at all – that is how closely we associate healing and touch.

We can imagine that Jesus’ touch was not experienced as traumatising for the people Jesus’ encountered, but rather that it was experienced as healing. We see this most clearly by the fact that half of the healing-touch references are initiated by the patients and not by Jesus. Everyone wanted to touch Jesus to get healed.

The most vivid of these is the woman who had been haemorrhaging for 12 years. Mark says of her, “She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse. When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, because she thought, ‘If I just touch his clothes, I will be healed.’ Immediately her bleeding stopped and she felt in her body that she was freed from her suffering” (Mark 5:26-29). After innumerable and probably expensive but ineffective treatments at the hands of many doctors, she becomes convinced that Jesus’ touch will cure her. Her conviction was probably based on witnessing or hearing testimony from others who had been healed by Jesus’ touch. So convinced is she, that she is sure that she does not even need to touch his body and he does not even need to know he was touching her – the power in him would flow into her at the slightest contact, even indirect contact – through his clothing. Of course, she was right!

That Jesus felt the power go out of him (Mark 5:30) suggests that physical touch was more than a psychological demonstration of caring, but that there was in fact healing in his touch. In touching people, Jesus becomes a bridge or a conduit that crosses a gap between the sick person and God. It is a “thin place”[1] in which God comes particularly close to a human being and healing is experienced. If we believe that the fullness of God dwells in Christ in bodily form (Colossians 2:9), then in fact touching Christ brings the “toucher” in direct contact with the Divine – Jesus is not so much a bridge to God, but God in the flesh.

The healing of this woman seems to have become widely known and many people drew the same conclusion I have and thus sought Jesus out: “Wherever [Jesus] went – into villages, towns or countryside – they placed the sick in the marketplaces. They begged him to let them touch even the edge of his cloak, and all who touched him were healed” (Mark 6:56).

In addition to all of this, there is something beautifully intimate and delicate in Jesus’ touching those who are ill. We believe that God is Spirit, not corporeal. Thus God has no hands or body with which to touch humans. After aeons of imagining humanity and thousands of years of interacting with humanity, God finally has the opportunity actually touch humanity – to not only experience life from within the human body, but also to interact with others physically. Each touch between Jesus and another person is another unique experience for God.

Such touches are dual edged. Initially, such a touch brings God into contact with human pain and suffering, with the fragility of human life and the vulnerability of our bodies and minds. Those of us who work in the human services know that regular contact with suffering takes its toll on us – we experience the pain of those we serve and can become overwhelmed by it, to the extent that we can no longer separate our own pain from those around us. We call this ‘burnout’. Jesus’ initial touch, then, is a further expression of the immanence of God, which we have encountered several times before – on Day 7 in relation to God’s seeing, hearing, concerning and coming down to the people of Israel suffering in Egypt and on Day 19 in relation to the incarnation as God’s immersion into the experience of humanity. We will come to it again when we reflect on the cross.

But in terms of Jesus touching people, each touch is a coming close to us in our suffering, of God exposing Godself to our fallenness. This points to God’s courage, God’s love, God’s presence, God’s empathy. God is not remote in a safe, protected heaven. God is not unmoved by our suffering. Rather, God is fully present and both emotionally and physically connected to us.

The other side of the dual edge of Christ’s touch is that after connecting with and experiencing our suffering, Christ heals. Once Christ has shared in our suffering, we can share in Christ’s wholeness – His joy, completeness, fullness, peace and love. Like the woman who bled, when we allow Christ to touch us or when reach out to touch Him, we may experience the healing presence of Christ, an outpouring of His power into ourselves. Although not every touch of Christ is so distinctively powerful and even when we are not miraculously healed like the bleeding woman, we can trust in Him to impart healing to us. We trust, because we have seen that touching and healing is habitual and second nature to Jesus, and that this reflects the character of God, who loves us and who longs to touch and heal.

Meditation for the Day

Recall a time when someone’s touch brought comfort and healing to you. What was it about that touch that was helpful? What was it about the relationship with that person that was helpful? Recall a time when you felt touched by God. How did that come about?

Prayer for the Day

Healing Lord, please touch me today in those places in my life that are wounded and sick. Bring healing and comfort, that I may rise up to love and serve you.

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[1] Borg, M. J. (2003). The heart of Christianity: Rediscovering a life of faith. New York: HarperCollins, p. 149.

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Being God’s Beloved: Talk 4: Jesus Christ: Embodiment of Divine Love

This is the fourth in the five-part series on “Being God’s Beloved”, delivered at St Martins Anglican Church in Irene, South Africa, on 2 April 2014. In this talk we focus on Jesus Christ as the embodiment of Divine Love, giving attention to his life (incarnation), ministry and teaching.

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Being God’s Beloved: Day 25: The Wedding at Cana

Being God’s Beloved: Reflections on God’s Love.

Over the last six days we reflected on some of the deep theologies of Christ’s incarnation and teaching. This was, at times, rather heavy conceptual stuff! While there is, of course, much teaching and theological depth in the Gospels, much of what we read is how Jesus lived his life on earth – his ministry, his relationships, his activities. There is much that we can and should learn about God’s love for us and about our Being God’s Beloved from these stories.

Because Jesus is the embodiment of God – Jesus is the Second Person of the Trinity come in human form – what we see in Christ is a reflection of God. Jesus says this clearly when Philip asks, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.” Jesus responds, with what sounds likes a note of exasperation, “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. …I am in the Father and the Father is in me” (John 14:8-10). It may be hard for us to imagine what God is like and what God thinks about us. But it is much easier to see what Jesus is like and what Jesus thinks of people. When we see Jesus, we see God. We can trust that Jesus accurately reveals God to us.

And so we start with Jesus’ first sign in the Gospel according to St John – the turning of water into wine at the wedding of Cana (John 2:1-11). On the surface, this is just a miracle story: Jesus does something that no-one else has been able to do – he changes a simple chemical compound (hydrogen and oxygen molecules) into wine. There are numerous very deep theological and spiritual meanings attributed to this passage, which all probably have elements of truth.[1]

But I’d like us to reflect today on the kinds of values of Jesus that we can infer from this story. In other words, what do we learn about who God is and what is important to God from this story?

It is surely significant that Jesus performed a miracle involving wine at a wedding. And it is surely also significant that John places this miracle as first in his version of the Gospel story. Would not a loftier miracle have been more appropriate to inaugurate his ministry? For example, a healing from leprosy or raising someone from the dead or restoring sight to the blind? These kinds of miracles would surely have been much more in keeping with the Lukan Manifesto that we studied on Day 22. And much more suitable for dignity of the Son of God.

But perhaps the unexpectedness of such a miracle, even the inappropriateness of it, is exactly why this is important to John and to us, and to Jesus and to God. Jesus chooses to participate in a very human event – a wedding. It is a time of joyous celebration, a time of joining two individuals and two families together, a time to anticipate the birth of children and the start of a new generation. A wedding is, in many important ways, essentially human – a key event in the lives of individuals, families and communities.

Jesus places himself at the centre of human living by performing his first miracle at such an event. He shows himself to be interested in and willing to participate actively in and concerned for the centre of human life and love. Jesus is not here only to preach and teach. He is also not here only to die on a cross. He is also here to participate in the full life of humanity – to be human. Similarly, he is interested and willing to participate in our lives, in your own life. And because Jesus embodies God, we know that it is also God’s desire to participate fully in our human lives.

Sometimes we have this feeling that we should not bother God with the mundane trivialities of our lives. In the midweek fellowship group that I belong to, when we pray for each other, people sometimes say, “No, I’ve got nothing important that needs prayer.” We say things like this because at some level we believe that God is interested only in big things – our need for a better night’s sleep or our hope that a relationship at work might improve seem too small and trivial to bother God about. We feel that God has more important things to attend to, and we shouldn’t intrude with our petty troubles.

But Jesus’ presence at the wedding and his decision to address a very practical, down-to-earth problem – “They have no more wine” (John 2:3) – tells us that Jesus is indeed interested, very interested, in our everyday lives. He is interested in the ‘ordinary’ – our day-to-day concerns and worries. And, moreover, he is willing to get involved in the ordinary – to invest in helping us with the ordinary. There is nothing that we cannot take to God, nothing that God would dismiss as trivial. God is not one to say, “Oh, get over yourself” or “Don’t have a pity party”. God wants very much to be part of every facet of our lives.

Jesus expands on this interest in the ordinary by transforming the ordinary into the exceptional. Ordinary water is changed into “choice wine” – “the best” (John 2:10). And not only the best wine, but also a great quantity of wine – roughly 600 litres of it! We are reminded of Jesus’ words, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10) or “have it abundantly” (NRSV & NASB).

God is interested in the ordinariness of our lives, but God is also interested in helping us transform our lives into something exceptional. While God does accept us as we are, unconditionally, God also desires us to become more than who we are. It is not that God wants to change us into something other than what we are; rather, God wants to us become everything that we were created to be, to actualise all the potential that lies sleeping within us. It is as though we were acorns, which is a wonderful thing to be; but God is eager for us to become oak trees, which is even more wonderful! Every acorn contains the image of the oak tree, waiting to be actualised.[2]

We experience this kind of transformation regularly in the Holy Eucharist.[3] At the start of the service, there is a bottle of wine and a container of communion wafers at the entrance of the church. These are things that we have made. Of course, we have made the bread and wine out the things that God created – wheat and grapes. We took what God created and made something ordinary out of them. These ordinary human artefacts signify our ordinary lives that we bring to church.

During the Eucharist service, these ordinary things are brought into the sanctuary and transformed into the body and blood of Christ. And so, as we participate in the communion, we are not just consuming bread and wine, but also participating spiritually in the body and blood of our Saviour. This transformation signifies what God does to us as humans – we become infused with the Spirit of God and transformed into the image of God. Even if you don’t accept that the communion produces actual sanctification, the Eucharist is a metaphor for this transformation – we act out in the communion service what God does by the Holy Spirit.

In our daily lives, God intends that we should be transformed into the likeness of the Son. God intends that the ordinary should become extraordinary. God intends that we should become everything that God created us to be.

This points to another important insight into God’s heart. God has an image of each of us in God’s heart. When God intends us to be transformed into the image of the Son, that does not mean we all become the same. No! Instead, each of us is unique and distinct, created individually as God’s Beloved. When God, metaphorically, closes His eyes and thinks about you, he has a distinct person in mind – a person with a name and a history, with strengths and vulnerabilities, with potential and aspirations, with past, present and future, with emotions and desires. God holds you in mind and heart, both as you are and as you could be. God knows you!

At the end of the Wedding at Cana story, John tells us that “his disciples put their faith in him” (2:11) – they “entrusted themselves to him”.[4] This was, no doubt, because they had witnessed an amazing miracle. But for us, perhaps it was also because we see that Jesus, as the Son of God, was also interested in everyday human life, keen to participate in ordinary human life, able to transform ordinary human life and with an individualised image of ordinary human life. This was a man who really cared about ordinary human life. This was a man who loved ordinary humans. This was a man who helped people. This was a man who loved.

Meditation for the Day

Identify those facets of your life that you avoid ‘bothering’ God with – those ordinary, seemingly trivial things. Make a decision to bother God with them today.

Prayer for the Day

Generous God, in the same what that you transformed ordinary water into extraordinary wine, transform me into something extraordinary. Continue to work out your purposes in me, to become everything that you have created me to be.

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[1] Bruner, F. D. (2012). The Gospel of John: A commentary. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, pp. 125-142.

[2] The metaphor of acorns is inspired by Hillman, J. (1997). The soul’s code: In search of character and calling. New York: Warner Books.

[3] The Eucharist (Holy Communion, Mass, Divine Service, Lord’s Supper) is understood differently by different Christian traditions. I’m writing as an Anglican who believes in the ‘real presence’ of Christ in the elements. In other words, the bread and wine remain bread and wine, but Christ is spiritual present, in a real and meaningful way, in the elements.

[4] Bruner, p. 133.

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Being God’s Beloved: Day 24: The Great Commission

Being God’s Beloved: Reflections on God’s Love.

Yesterday and the day before we looked at two central messages of Jesus. The first, from Luke 4, spoke of God’s special love and concern for those who are poor and vulnerable, God’s desire for those who are rich and powerful to align with God’s mission and God’s rejection of vengeance. The second, from Matthew 22 and Mark 12, spoke of the deep Will of God, that we should love – love God and love each other.

Today we look at a third central message of Jesus, which is found in Matthew 28 – the last few verses of Matthew’s Gospel account of the life and times of Jesus of Nazareth. He writes:

“Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age’” (Matthew 28:16-20).

This wonderful passage is called the ‘Great Commission’ and has served for many generations as the primary text mobilising evangelical missionary work.

A somewhat similar commission is found in Acts 1:8:

“You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

Jesus opens and closes this brief passage with grand statements about Himself. The opening words speak to tremendous cosmic power and authority that God the Father has delegated to Him. And the closing words speak to his omnipresence and eternity – His ability to be everywhere forever. Together, these remind us of the Kenotic U that we reflected on earlier this week, and specifically the top right corner of the U, which we talked about as Christ’s glorification. Having been raised from the dead and blessed by God, Jesus is now once again the King of kings and Lord of lords.

In this passage, Jesus speaks not as just the man of God that he had been during his brief time on earth, but as the Son of God. He is, indeed, a King. And he is King of the Kingdom of God or, to use Matthew’s terminology, the Kingdom of Heaven. The Greek word for ‘kingdom’, basileia, is used 51 times in Matthew, compared with just 18 times in Mark.[1] Some scholars prefer to translate basileia as ‘reign’, to emphasise not so much a territory (which ‘kingdom’ may evoke for many of us), but rather the King who reigns. For Jesus, the Kingdom of Heaven was both in the future (something towards which we yearn and strive) and the present (something that is ‘near’ because Jesus is present). Wherever we find Jesus, we find the Kingdom. And because Jesus is present in Christians by the Spirit, wherever we are God’s Kingdom is present. And so we pray, “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10).

The Great Commission then, although not mentioning the term basileia, is nevertheless set against an extensive backdrop of the Kingdom of Heaven, which Matthew has developed over the previous 28 chapters and which Jesus’ words about authority and eternal presence reinforce. Jesus is commissioning the disciples, as He commissions us, to work in and for the Kingdom of God. This is a present work in the present Kingdom that centres on the person of Jesus Christ, but it is also work for the future, for that great and glorious Day of the Lord, when God will restore the heavens and the earth and all who dwell therein.

What is this work that Jesus commissions the disciples to do? It is to gather all people together in God’s Kingdom. Jesus commissions the disciples to populate God’s Kingdom with people of God.

Both grammatically and theologically, the central imperative verb – the primary command – is to “make disciples”. Although the word “go” comes first and appears to be an imperative just like “make disciples”, it is better understood as subordinate to “make disciples”[2] and could perhaps be translated, “As you go…” or “While you are going…” The focus is squarely on “make disciples!”

A disciple is one who follows Jesus. A disciple submits to Jesus. A disciple adopts Jesus’ values, priorities and methods. A disciple seeks to further Jesus’ mission. A disciple ultimately seeks to become like Jesus.

Jesus’ twelve disciples did not, of course, embody such idealised aspirations. However, this was their aspiration and it was towards this that Jesus mentored and guided them.

So, to make disciples means to assist and support others in their journey of becoming a follower of Christ. And Jesus provides two methods to assist in achieving this: baptising them and teaching them. For today’s reflection, I wish to focus only on teaching. It is, however, important to note that the baptism incorporates a reference to the Trinity – “baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” – showing that the disciple-making work involves all the persons of the Trinity. It is important work!

The teaching that Jesus speaks of is “teaching them to obey all I have commanded you.” Sometimes we think of teaching as the imparting of intellectual knowledge – teaching leads to knowing. But in Matthew’s Gospel, teaching is far more. “Jesus teaching is an appeal to his listeners’ will, not primarily to their intellect; it is a call for a concrete decision to follow him and to submit to God’s will.”[3] The Will of God is something we reflected on yesterday, in relation to the Great Commandment. There we said that the Will of God, which is expressed in the Law, is for us to love – to love God and to love each other. Jesus said that all the Law and Prophets hang on this command (Matthew 22:40).

The Will of God appears many times in Matthew.[4] We recall it in the Lord’s Prayer: “Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10). Jesus says of the Day of Judgement, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 7:21). Matthew 18:14 expresses what is not God’s Will: “So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost” (NSRV). In Matthew 21:28-32, two sons are contrasted. Once the father has expressed his will that they should go and work in the vineyard, the one says, “I will not” and the other, “I will, Sir”.

Being a disciple means adopting the Will of God and putting it into practice. The Will of God is for us to love God and to love others, including the unlovely. Jesus is thus commissioning the disciples and us to cultivate a Kingdom in which everyone loves God and each other, not only in the privacy of their hearts, but also in their actions and interactions. Yesterday, we saw the correspondence between God’s love for us and our love for God and each other. Today, we see that Jesus wants us to spread this message to everyone.

This ‘everyone’ is expressed in the Great Commission as to “all nations”. Jesus really does mean all nations. This is good news for everyone. It is not just good news for the Jews, as it was in the Old Testament and, to some degree, even in Jesus’ ministry. It is also not good news just for Gentiles, as if the Jews have been cut off and forgotten. Rather, it is good news for every person and every community of people.

We recall God’s passion for all peoples in the commissioning of Abraham in our reflections on Day 6. The Great Commission is not a new commission. It is merely a re-commissioning. God had previously commissioned Abraham to bring God’s light to all peoples. Then this commission was passed on to all Israel. And now to all followers of Christ. God’s love has always been and will always be universal. God desires the salvation of the entire human population. And so Peter writes, “[The Lord] is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9b).

Today and over the previous two days we have reflected on three central messages of Jesus, perhaps even the three central passages that speak to Jesus’ mission. And we have seen a common thread through all of them. The Lukan Manifesto recounts God’s love for the poor and vulnerable, the Great Commandment concerns God’s intention that we should love God and love each other, and the Great Commission is a call to guide all people into a loving relationship with God.

It is no coincidence that all three messages centre on God’s love and our consequent love for God and each other. The messages all centre on God’s love, because love is at the centre of God. More specifically, love is the centre of God’s Will. It is God’s good desire and intention to love us and for us to love God and for us to love each other. And so, whenever Jesus speaks about what is most important, it will be about love.

Meditation for the Day

As a lover of God, we are called to draw other people into the love of God. It is God’s will that all should know God’s love. How are you doing in participating with God in this mission?

Prayer for the Day

Your love for me is wonderful, O Lord my God. Help me to shine forth this love in the way I interact with people around me. Help me to draw them to you, making them followers of your Son.

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[1] Bosch, p. 70.

[2] France, pp. 1114-1115.

[3] Bosch, p. 66.

[4] These examples were identified by Bosch, p. 67.

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Being God’s Beloved: Day 23: The Great Commandment

Being God’s Beloved: Reflections on God’s Love.

One day, Jesus is asked, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” (Matthew 22:36). The question is similarly phrased in Mark 12:28, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”

It is wonderful that Jesus was asked this question, because his answer points us to Jesus’ understanding of the heart of God’s Will.[1] After all, the Law is, essentially, an expression of God’s will for how we ought to be as human beings, and how we ought to relate to the world around us. The question could just as well have been, “What is the centre of God’s Will?”

Jesus answers, in Matthew’s version,

“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments” (Matthew 22:37-40).

Mark’s version is similar, but has some differences:

“The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these” (Mark 12:29-31).

The key difference in Mark is the inclusion of the Shema, “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one,” which precedes the command to love God in the source for this first commandment in Deuteronomy 6:4-5. The Shema was recited twice daily by Jewish people, as a statement of faith or creed. Devout Jews also have the Shema written on the doorposts of their home and on phylacteries tied to their foreheads, in keeping with the instruction of Moses in Deuteronomy 6:6-9.[2] In so doing, Mark’s version emphasises that the commands to love are in response to who God is and what God does.

Mark also differs by the inclusion of “and with all your strength”, though this is in fact part of the source in Deuteronomy. On the other hand, “and with all your mind” is not in Deuteronomy, but included in both Matthew and Mark.

Scholars may debate the reasons for these differences, but what strikes us from the first commandment to love God is the repeated use of all. The love for God that is described here is holistic and all-encompassing. Jesus is describing a kind of love that draws on every facet of our being. He is saying that our entire self is to be turned towards God in love. This is not merely emotional love, such as one might see on the soap operas. Nor is it an intellectual love one might read in the philosophers. Nor is it the physical love one might experience in the bedroom. Rather, this is a love that draws on the whole person.

We have looked previously at the concept of chesed, meaning God’s unfailing loving-kindness towards those with whom God is in a covenant relationship. That love for us – that chesed – encompasses the whole of us. God loves every facet of who we are. God does not merely love our spirit, or the good deeds that we do, or the virtuous thoughts that we think. God loves everything about us. And so, our reciprocated love for God must be similarly holistic. “Because the whole [person] is the object of God’s covenant love, the whole [person] is claimed by God for himself.”[3]

The second part of the commandment, which Jesus says is “like” the first, is to love our neighbour as ourselves, and is drawn from Leviticus 19:18. This involves a similarly whole-hearted, whole-person love for one’s neighbour. We recall the parable of the Good Samaritan from Luke 10:25-37, which clarifies who “our neighbour” is – everyone is our neighbour. The kind of love that Jesus calls us to, in relation to other people, has no boundaries – it is a universal love for all of humanity, both collectively (meaning, a general love for all people) and individually (meaning, we are called to love each individual personally and specifically). On Day 16 we said that love is “an active desire for the well-being of the neighbour, and for communion with him or her, based on a recognition of the neighbour’s unique worth”.[4]

Jesus closely connects these two familiar commandments:  “This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it” (Matthew 22:38-39a). Although there are two answers, he was asked for the greatest commandment, not two commandments. Clearly, Jesus sees these as so closely intertwined that they are as one.

A little bit of Hebrew grammar will give us insight into an important theological and practical aspect of the Great Commandment. Both the Old Testament sources of the Great Commandment (Deuteronomy and Leviticus) use the jussive form of ‘love’ in the Hebrew.[5] The jussive is a way of expressing one’s volition or desire or intention, but is not as strong as an imperative, which is much more like a direct command to do something.[6] The jussive is thus a subtler and gentler way of expressing choice. In translating jussive Hebrew verbs into English, it is often helpful to put the words ‘let’ or ‘may’ before the verb, such as ‘let him love’ or ‘may he love’.

In the two calls to love, the Hebrew uses the jussive form, thus they are not translated as imperatives or commands, “You must love the Lord” and “You must love your neighbour”. This is important because such a command can easily degenerate into an external performing of the appearance of love, without a true volition, choice or intention to love. While one can easily command someone to perform an activity (such as, “Don’t hit your little sister”), it is usually counterproductive to command someone to feel or desire something (such as, “Enjoy playing with your little sister”). In such cases, it is far better to use a gentler form, which the jussive allows (“May you develop an enjoyment for playing with your little sister”). Thus these are not commands to “Love”. Rather they are encouragements that could be better translated, “You are to love…” or “May you love…” The call to love is more to cultivate love in one’s heart than to merely perform loving actions.

The only places in the Old Testament where the jussive form of the verb ‘love’ is used are in Deuteronomy 6:5 and 11:1 (both of which say, “Love the Lord your God”) and Leviticus 19:18 and 19:34 (which say, “Love your neighbour as yourself” and “Love him as yourself”).[7] Together, they express God’s singular Will, God’s central volition, which is, “You are to love”.

There is just one Divine Will – God desires that we love. This singular Will to love is expressed into two spheres of life – in our relationship with God and in our relationship with other people.[8] But it is just one Will. Thus, these two commandments are, in fact, one command, the command to love.

The first expression of love is towards God – we love God because God first loved us (1 John 4:19). Our love for God is always reactive, in that we are responding to what God has initiated. We are never the initiators with God, because God already loved us before we were conceived. We are always responding to God.

But our love for our neighbour, which is the second expression of love, is different. We do not love our neighbour because our neighbour first loved us. No! The parable of the Good Samaritan makes this abundantly clear – the injured man was in no position to love anyone, and so the Samaritan’s love for him is something that the Samaritan initiated. However, even this love for our neighbour springs forth as a response to God’s love for us. It is as we become more fully aware of and experience God’s love for us that our capacity to love others, particularly those who are unlovely or our enemies, develops. We love others because God first loved us. Thus, the wellspring of our love for both God and our neighbours is God’s love for us.

God does not instruct us to love as one might instruct a soldier. Rather, God does two things to move us to love. First, God loves us first. God sets the example. God fills our hearts with love. God persists in loving us even when we spurn God’s love. God loves fully and unconditionally and extravagantly. God’s entire mission to humanity is motivated by love. Everything that God does towards us is an expression of that love. And second, God moves us towards greater love by exercising Divine Will. God prompts us to love with the call to love, with the reminder that as much as we are loved by God we are called to love others. But God does not coerce us to love others. As our hearts are filled with the love of God, love will overflow from our beings and spill into our relationships with family, friends, colleagues, strangers and even enemies. God woos us to become loving.

May it be that you love God with the whole of your being, and your neighbour as yourself.

Meditation for the Day

Reflect on everything that you have learned so far about God’s love for you. In light of that, how do you feel about expressing the fullness of this love in your relationship to God and to your neighbour?

Prayer for the Day

God of infinite love, thank you that you loved me long before I loved you. Continue to cultivate in me an ever deeper love for you and for other people, including those I find particularly hard to love.

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[1] Lane, W. L. (1974). The Gospel of Mark. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, p. 432.

[2] France, R. T. (2007). The Gospel of Matthew. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, p. 845.

[3] Lane, p. 432.

[4] Woodhead, in Marshall, p. 27.

[5] France, p. 846.

[6] Ellis, R. R. (2006). Learning to read Biblical Hebrew: An introductory grammar. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, pp. 174-175.

[7] France, p. 846.

[8] France, p. 843.

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Being God’s Beloved: Day 22: Lukan Manifesto

Being God’s Beloved: Reflections on God’s Love.

Today and for the next two days we focus on three pivotal passages in the Gospels, which present to us Jesus’ mission for himself and for us. These are important because they reveal to us not only what God wants from us, but also what God wants from God. In other words, they reveal God’s intentions, God’s mission, God’s heart. The things that God says are most important for us must be very important to God too.

The first of these passages is from Luke 4:18-19, where Jesus quotes from Isaiah 61:1-2 in what has become known as Jesus’ manifesto, Jesus’ statement of his programme or mission:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

After reading, Jesus begins to preach, opening with the words, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:21).

These words summarise what we read throughout Luke’s version of the Gospel, which is that Jesus has a deep and enduring commitment to the poor.[1] While ‘poor’ does here include those who are financially destitute, the term is used quite broadly to include all those who are oppressed, marginalised, silenced, excluded and disempowered. Women, for example, enjoy a particularly prominent place in Luke’s Gospel, as another clear group of poor people. “The entire ministry of Jesus and his relationships with all these and other marginalized people witness, in Luke’s writings, to Jesus’ practice of boundary-breaking compassion, which the church is called to emulate.”[2]

We see Jesus’ commitment to the poor, which clearly impressed Luke, even in the songs sung about him before his birth. Mary’s song includes, “He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty” (Luke 1:52-53). Zechariah sings about his son John, who will prepare the way for Jesus, “…salvation from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us – to show mercy to our fathers and to remember his holy covenant, the oath he swore to our father Abraham: to rescue us from the hand of our enemies” (Luke 1:71-74a).

Liberation theologians refer to this as God’s preferential option for the poor. It means that when God is presented with a choice of siding with a poor person and a rich person, God will side with the poor person. In other words, God’s heart is inclined to those who are poor (remembering that ‘poor’ is defined quite broadly). We could say that wherever people suffer at the hands of others, God will be there standing in solidarity with the sufferer. This tells us something important about God’s heart. And it says something important if we are the ones inflicting suffering.

However, Luke’s Gospel is full of stories of Jesus engaging with the rich (this term is also broadly defined to include not only those with lots of money, but also those who are greedy, powerful and exploitative). Jesus recognises that to change society – to make society a better place for the poor – the rich have to change. Thus Bosch describes Jesus as the “evangelist of the rich”.[3] In all these encounters, Jesus works to shift their attitudes so that they adopt God’s concern for those who are vulnerable. The story of Jesus’ encounter with Zacchaeus is a good example (Luke 19:1-10). Jesus goes to the home of Zacchaeus, a much unloved and exploitative tax collector, for tea, a move that probably shocked the poor. But through His engagement and love for Zacchaeus, Zacchaeus experiences a change – no, a conversion – of heart, and consequently of lifestyle.

God’s preference for the poor, therefore, does not result in God being hostile towards the rich, nor in God being permissive towards the poor. Rather, God’s desire is for the salvation of both, and we see Jesus engaging wholeheartedly in the transformation of both rich and poor. It may just be that the sins that rich and poor people must repent of and seek forgiveness for differ. But ultimately, Jesus aims to establish a community of loving faithful, living together in mutual care and support. “In their being converted to God, rich and poor are converted toward each other. The main emphasis, ultimately, is on sharing, on community.”[4]

In Luke 4:22, the initial response in the synagogue to Jesus’ reading from Isaiah and his subsequent sermon seem to elicit approval and admiration. But this quickly turns and in verse 29 they attempt to throw him off a cliff to his death! What could have provoked such fury?

Commentators have grappled with this, but Bosch’s argument makes good sense to me and reveals something more about God’s heart.[5] The passage that Jesus quoted from Isaiah 61 was written to the Jews who had just returned to Jerusalem from captivity in Babylon. They were depressed and despondent, humiliated and shaken in their faith. These words promised restoration and hope, which they were desperate for. But they also promised vengeance on their enemies: “He has sent me… to proclaim… the day of vengeance of our God” (Isaiah 61:2b). Verses 5-7 of Isaiah 61 speak of a reversal of fortune, where Israel will hold power, and foreigners will serve them.

Jesus’ audience would have had similar hopes for liberation from Roman oppression and were looking forward to the day of vengeance of our God. But Jesus leaves these words out, ending short with “the year of the Lord’s favour.” In verse 23, Jesus’ words suggest firstly that they were disgruntled that he had performed miraculous healings among the Gentiles in Capernaum rather than among the Jewish people, placing foreigners above family. And in verses 24-27 Jesus explicitly praises gentiles/foreigners as being recipients of God’s grace, rather than Jewish people.

It is likely that it was this dramatic contrast between Jesus’ message of healing, reconciliation and redemption for all peoples, particularly those who are poor, regardless of race or creed, and his listener’s expectations of vengeance and restitution that infuriated them. Rather than siding clearly with the Jews against everyone else, Jesus appears to side with everyone against poverty! Jesus message seems to be that “God’s compassion on the poor, the outcast and stranger – even on Israel’s enemies – has superseded divine vengeance!”[6] Instead of advocating revenge and violence, Jesus advocated gentleness, repentance and forgiveness. His is a gospel message of reconciliation, community and, of course, love.

What do we learn from this first important Gospel passage? First, we learn that God is moved by suffering. God’s heart is, in this sense, soft – God’s heartstrings are plucked when God witnesses poverty, suffering, oppression and abuse. In such situations God experiences a surge of love and reaches out a healing hand, to comfort and restore. This is good news for those of us who are suffering. We can hold onto the truth that God sees, hears, is concerned and is present with us in our suffering. We are not alone.

Second, we learn that those of us who cause suffering can expect God to challenge us. God expects us to engage in respectful, caring, egalitarian relationships with each other. When we are the ones causing poverty, when we are doing the oppressing, God’s protectiveness towards the sufferer calls forth a complementary anger towards us. This is good and appropriate – it is just what we might hope for when we are the ones suffering. But when that anger is directed towards us, it is surely frightening! Nevertheless, God’s anger in these cases is not intended to annihilate, but to call us to repentance. God is clear in the expectation of how we should engage with each other. There is no room for exploitation or oppression in the family of God. When we treat others as less than God’s beloved, we can expect a reaction from God.

Third, we learn that God’s agenda does not include vengeance, but rather reconciliation. This may be disappointing for us when we are suffering – we sometimes hope for a lightning bolt. But on those occasions that we are the oppressor, that we are the rich person, we may be grateful that God does not seek vengeance. Thus, in our relationships with those who oppress us, God calls us away from vengeance and towards reconciliation. This is much harder than vengeance! But it is God’s agenda – to establish a community of humans who love and respect each other, free of poverty and oppression, a community of peace and chesed.

What ties all of these together is God’s deeply rooted love for us, a love that protects, champions, nourishes, persists, expects and supports.

Meditation for the Day

Consider the ways in which you are rich. Consider the ways in which you might be oppressing or hurting God’s beloved. If you can think of some ways – which probably we call can – ask for forgiveness and the wisdom to engage differently with God’s beloved.

Prayer for the Day

Oh God, you are a protective mother, who loves her young and will do almost anything to ensure their safety and well-being. Please protect me when I am being threatened, and help me not to threaten others.

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[1] Bosch, D. J. (1991). Transforming mission: Paradigm shifts in theology of mission. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, p. 98.

[2] Bosch, p. 86.

[3] Bosch, p. 101.

[4] Bosch, p. 104.

[5] Bosch, pp. 108-113.

[6] Bosch, p. 111.

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Being God’s Beloved: Day 21: The Foot Washing Parable

Being God’s Beloved: Reflections on God’s Love.

John 13 presents us with the story of Jesus’ washing of the disciples’ feet. This well-known story is related only in John’s Gospel. In many churches we re-enact the washing of the feet on Maundy Thursday, the day before Good Friday. It is, for us, symbolic of servanthood and humility. Of course, in Jesus’ time and context, feet needed to be washed – they would have been dusty and dirty from walking in sandals on dry dusty roads, and servants would have washed guests’ feet. In our church, feet are probably in less need of washing. Nevertheless, we do it every year, because it gives us a picture of the humility and servanthood of Jesus, which he calls us to emulate: “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you” (John 13:14-15).

I have come to think of this story as an enacted parable. Jesus told many parables – indeed, he was renowned for using parables in his teachings. They were earthy, relevant, vivid and practical. Moreover, they made for interesting listening. And helped people remember his message. But we do not get any parables in John’s Gospel (though some do consider the Vine and the Good Shepherd to be parables). The Jesus we meet in John is much more inclined towards long, deep speeches and sermons. Nevertheless, I think this is a parable acted out – not a story told, but a story demonstrated.

A parable tells a story at two levels. On the surface is a story about something that did or could have actually happened. It is a story in its own right. Below the surface is a second story that has some spiritually important meaning. The story can be understood at either or both levels, but the second story is not always that obvious, which is why Jesus is often asked to explain the parables (e.g. Matthew 13:1-23).

An enacted parable is not a story that is told, but something that is done. The actions have two levels of meaning, which is what makes them a parable. On the surface, the actions are what they are – the doing of something that may be functional and purposeful. But below the surface the actions have another meaning that is spiritually important. I think of the foot washing in this way – on the surface, Jesus was cleaning his disciples’ feet, which is something that needed to be done, and in so doing he took on the role of a servant, which made the disciples uncomfortable. But at another level, Jesus was telling the disciples a story about his whole life, a story that we yesterday called the Kenotic U (based on Philippians 2:5-11).

It seems that John understood that this was an enacted parable, because he opens the story with a commentary:

“It was just before the Passover Feast. Jesus knew that the time had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love. … Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God” (John 13:1-3).

John says that Jesus “now showed them the full extent of his love.” But washing someone’s feet, even if they are smelly and dirty, is not really a demonstration of the full extent of Christ’s love. We know that Christ’s love was much larger than just that. And within their time and culture, foot washing was not uncommon – it was just that someone of a higher status would not have washed the feet of those who were subordinate. So, it is likely that John is giving us a clue that there is more to this story than just feet being washed.

The text around this phrase speaks about Jesus’ reflecting on the fact that he had come from God and was soon to return to God. This is very reminiscent of the U is it not? John sets up the enacted parable with reflection on where Jesus comes from and where he is soon to go, related to his great love for humanity.

John now steps into telling the story itself – the parable:

“[Jesus] got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him” (John 13:4-5).

What we have here is the first half of the U, the left side, the descent. Jesus would have been reclining at the senior position at the table, at his place of authority as Teacher. This is like Jesus enjoying equality with God in Philippians 2:6. The Trinity is where the Son belonged – this was his rightful place.

But Jesus gets up from this place – the Son did not consider equality with God something to be grasped. Jesus is willing to relinquish his status as Rabbi, Teacher, in order to begin a descent towards humility. Similarly, the Son was willing to give up perfect fellowship and Deity.

Jesus takes off his outer clothing – the Son emptied himself, making himself nothing. Our clothing is a sign of who we are. When I serve as a lay minister in church I wear a white robe and a medallion, which serve as signs to parishioners that I am licensed to perform sacred duties in the sanctuary. When I attend a graduation ceremony at the university I wear a red robe, which serves as a sign to the students and their parents that I am a professor. Our clothes are signs of who we are, and some clothes are signs of status and power. Jesus divests himself of his outer clothing, thereby casting aside any sign of his status and role. Similarly, the Son emptied himself of his privilege, power and attributes as the Second Person of the Trinity.

Jesus wraps a towel around his waist – the Son took on the form of a servant, being made in human likeness. As much as clothes can signify status, clothes can also signify the lack of status. We may think of a domestic worker’s (maid’s) uniform – no-one would wear clothes like that to give the impression of wealth or status! Jesus, having removed his outer clothing, dons a towel around his waist, which is what a servant would wear. Similarly, the Son took on the form of a servant and humbled himself, becoming far less than he had been before.

Jesus begins to wash the disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel – the Son became obedient to death, even death on a cross. The course of action that Jesus had initiated reaches its natural outcome – he does, in fact, wash the disciples’ feet. He does not merely give the impression that he might wash them, expecting that someone else will take over. Instead, he does what he set out to do. Similarly, the Son continued the downward curve of the U to its natural outcome – he offended the Jewish leaders to such an extent that they eventually agreed to get him killed. The Son did not merely move towards the cross, expecting God to rescue him. Instead, he was resolute and did what he set out to do.

In these two verses, Jesus enacts the downward curve of the Kenotic U, symbolising his incarnation, life and death as a humble human. John, in writing this, recognises that this is obscure, but he recalls Jesus explaining to a confused Peter, “You do not realise now what I am doing, but later you will understand” (John 13:7). This is a strong clue that there are two levels to this story – foot washing is the upper level and obvious; the Kenotic U is the basement story, not so obvious and needing time to recognise. John is widely recognised to be the New Testament writer who really grasped the deeper meanings of Christ’s earthly sojourn.

John 13:12 tells us the rest of the story:

“When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. ‘Do you understand what I have done for you?’ he asked them.”

Jesus finishes washing their feet – God therefore turned the tide of events towards the Son’s glorification. There is no ‘therefore’ in John’s narrative, but it is clear that now that the feet are washed, Jesus is finished with this act of servanthood, with this emptying out of himself, with this kenosis. Similarly, once the Son had completed his work on earth, which resulted in his death, God was ready to start the second half of the Son’s journey, back to glory.

Jesus puts on his clothes – the Son was exalted to highest place. By putting on his clothes, which requires removing the now soiled towel, Jesus takes back his former role and status. Similarly, the Son, after being humiliated and cruelly treated, regained his former glory, exalted to the highest place, recognised as an important person in the eyes of every creature.

Jesus returns to his place – the Son was proclaimed as Lord, to the glory of the Father. Having reclaimed his clothes, Jesus resumes his place at the head of the table, takes up again his rightful position of authority among the disciples. Similarly, the Son was given not just a meaningful name, but also a title, “Lord”, and resumed his rightful place in the glory of God the Father, reunited in the Holy Trinity.

Immediately, Jesus asks if the disciples now understand what he has done for them, echoing his earlier comment to Peter. Of course, they did not. At most they heard Jesus’ message that they, like him, must be willing to serve others. But what was only later understood, and related to us by John, was that Jesus had here enacted the whole of the Kenotic U – the descent of the Second Person of the Trinity, the Son, from the side of the Father, into human form, into humility and to death, after which he was glorified and reinstated in the heart of the Triune God.

The importance of this for us is to reinforce Jesus’ demonstration of love in the incarnation, cross and resurrection. We return to John’s opening words: “Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love” (John 13:1b).

Meditation for the Day

Continue your reflection, started yesterday, on the kenosis, on God’s emptying out of God’s self, in order become one of us, in order to redeem us. Reflect on the full extent of God’s love that this demonstrates.

Prayer for the Day

Three-in-one God, I am deeply grateful for the great sacrifice that you have made for me in sending the Son into the world as my brother and Saviour.

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Being God’s Beloved: Talk 3: Sin, Love & Wrath

This is the third in the five-part series on “Being God’s Beloved”, delivered at St Martins Anglican Church in Irene, South Africa, on 26 March 2014. Today, we explore the relationship between human sin and divine love and wrath.

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Being God’s Beloved: Day 20: The Kenotic U

Being God’s Beloved: Reflections on God’s Love.

In Philippians 2:5-11 Paul writes, “Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became 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 confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

This magnificent Christ Hymn is a description of Christ’s incarnation, humiliation and glorification. I find it helpful to visualise this as a U:

Kenotic_U

On the left is the descent of Christ, through the incarnation, into human form, into the darkness of humanity, leading to his humiliation[1] and suffering. At the bottom of the U is the lowest point, his death on a cross. And then there is the ascent on the right, starting with “therefore God exalted him” leading to his glorification as the universal Saviour. This is the great story of Christ’s salvific work – his willingness to give up everything in order to join with humanity and win our redemption.

Today we give particular attention to the left side of the U, the descent. This descent is known as kenosis, a Greek word that means ‘emptying out’. Kenosis describes what the Second Person of the Trinity did in order to become human, and is thus central to the incarnation. Kenosis does not mean that the Son ceased to be God – gave up the divine nature.[2] The Nicene Creed says that two natures – both human and divine – coexisted in the one person of Jesus Christ. Colossians 2:9 also affirms that “in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form.” However, there is clearly an emptying, a diminishing and a humiliation in this passage from Philippians.

What is this emptying, this kenosis?

First, we learn that the Son let go of “equality with God” and “emptied himself”. The latter phrase is how some English Bibles (e.g. the NASB and NSRV) translate the Greek word kenosis. This may be a separating out of the Son from the perfect integration of the Trinity. Remember that Father, Son and Spirit had, from before the beginning of time, existed in perfect unity, harmony and loving relationship. This is the timeless essence of God and all that God had ever known. But the incarnation involved a separating out of one of the persons of the Holy Trinity, in order to take on a different kind of life – life as a human. This separating would require the Son to let go of – to not grasp – equality or unity with God.

Other translations of the Bible use “made himself nothing” for kenosis. We should not interpret that being human means to be nothing – we have seen by now that humans are far from ‘nothing’. Perhaps, rather, “nothing” describes the experience of the incarnation for the Holy Trinity. Perhaps the Son’s experience of emptying himself was one of becoming “nothing”. The radical contrast between the fullness, perfection, wholeness and relatedness of eternal triune fellowship and the isolation, finiteness and smallness of the incarnation may well have been experienced as becoming nothing. This is particularly so if we remember from yesterday that the incarnation took place at the level of a single cell, not the infant. The eternal and infinite Second Person of the Trinity was emptied into a strand of genetic material. That is an unimaginable diminishment. “Nothing” could well be what it felt like.

I think that the most helpful way of thinking of the kenosis is as a ‘becoming small’, being ‘diminished’. The omnipresent Son, who could be in all places and all times simultaneously, becomes constrained in a single, initially exceedingly small, body, a body that can be in only one place at one time. Surely that is an emptying out? A becoming nothing? It is a profound and complete limitation that the Son accepts in becoming the individual called Jesus of Nazareth. It seems that similar limitations were placed on the other divine attributes, such as God’s omniscience (knowing everything) and omnipotence (being all powerful). The Son must be fed, cleaned, clothed, burped and educated, just like any other infant. The Son is constrained, limited, confined and restricted in a way that God has never experienced. This is a whole new learning opportunity for God!

Second, we learn that the Son takes on the humble nature of a servant. The term ‘form’ (used by the NASB and NSRV, for example) is probably more appropriate here than ‘nature’ (used by the NIV), because we recall that in Jesus Christ we fully find both the divine nature and the human nature. So it is not that the Son changed natures. Rather, two natures – divine and human – became integrated. What is stressed here, however, is servanthood and humility. Twice Paul writes about becoming human: “being made in in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man.” These two phrases are sandwiched between two other important phrases: “taking the very nature of a servant, … he humbled himself.”

Becoming human certainly involves a diminishing, a becoming small. But the kenosis is more than just becoming human. It is also becoming a humble servant. One might have thought that if God were to incarnate into human form, it would be a splendid form. The God-man should be magnificent, big, imposing, powerful, wealthy, gorgeous, charismatic and well placed in society. But instead, this incarnation is into a person of no significance. The Second Person of the Trinity becomes a nobody, a servant. Small wonder that Jesus speaks out in support of the “least of these” (Matthew 25:40) and the “little ones” (Matthew 18:10). That is exactly what the Son became – a little one, a least of all people, a humble servant.

Third, kenosis leads ultimately to death. And not just any death – “death on a cross.” One might think that a God-man, even one born tiny and raised in obscurity, would grow up to be a superhero. We think of Hercules in Greek-Roman mythology, born of Zeus and a mortal woman, who had superhuman strength. In modern times, we might think of Superman. Surely this would be the destiny of God incarnate? Instead, Jesus dies prematurely and painfully on a cross, a most excruciating and humiliating death.

Jesus’ entire human existence from conception to death is characterised by kenosis – relinquishing divine status and privilege, becoming small and insignificant, having no authority or stature, dying in disgrace. The first half of this Kenotic U is a disappointingly sad story. Of course, there is another side to the U. The cross, which lies at the base of the U, is both the last step of his humiliation and the first step towards his glorification. We know that there is a happy ending that is heralded with the resurrection, leading to a glorious ascension and a magnificent glorification at the right hand of the Father, culminating in a universal recognition of his greatness. But at this point in our journey, that is still a long way off.

Today, as we reflect on the kenosis, as an important aspect of the incarnation, I invite you to reflect on the extent of love that must have motivated the Second Person of the Trinity to take this tremendous dive into humility. How much love must the Triune God have had to elect this course of action? Not even thinking of the cross, how great must God’s love be to take on human form, to limit God’s self to such an extent? Surely, only infinite love could motivate such a choice? Surely this is a love that is willing to risk everything, willing to give up everything, willing to lay down everything? This is love come down in human form.

Meditation for the Day

What would your own kenosis entail? What would you have to empty out of yourself to become nothing? What would it feel like to empty yourself like this? Now reflect on the kenosis of the Son. What does that mean to you?

Prayer for the Day

Jesus Christ, I thank you for the great gift of yourself to us, to me, and the extent to which you were willing to give up for me. Give me courage to walk in your footsteps.

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[1] ‘Humiliation’ in ordinary language means to be publically embarrassed and shamed. It also has a theological meaning, which is similar, but more expansive. The Westminster Shorter Catechism (Question 27) says that, “Christ’s humiliation consisted in his being born, and that in a low condition, made under the law, undergoing the miseries of this life, the wrath of God, and the cursed death of the cross; in being buried, and continuing under the power of death for a time.”

[2] Erickson, M. J. (1985). Christian theology. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker House, p. 735.

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Being God’s Beloved: Day 19: The Incarnation

Being God’s Beloved: Reflections on God’s Love.

Today marks an important transition from the Old Testament to the New Testament. God’s love is continuous across both Testaments – there is no change in God’s attitude and feelings towards us. However, the New Testament heralds a new way of expressing that love! God now comes in person into humanity in the form of Jesus Christ. This is the greatest demonstration of God’s love since the creation. And it allows us to encounter God is a completely new way. God’s coming into the world – the incarnation – is a radical shift in God’s engagement with the world, and sets in motion a wonderful new experience of Being God’s Beloved.

You may recall that on Day 7, when we looked at Exodus 3, we heard God say:

  • I have seen…
  • I have heard…
  • I am concerned…
  • I have come down…

God drew near to Israel in their time of suffering in Egypt.

And now God draws near again, but in a new and profound way – God becomes human.

When we think of the incarnation, many of us think of the baby Jesus born in a manager, which we celebrate at Christmas. But in fact the incarnation took place roughly nine months before, at the conception. It must, surely, be at the conception that the incarnation took place, otherwise what we have is a human baby who is subsequently infused with God’s spirit – and that is no incarnation at all.[1]

Exactly how this works, we cannot be sure. But let us consider the possibility that in some mysterious way, by the Holy Spirit, there is a blending together of human and divine. Mary’s genetic material is spliced together with God’s to form a being who is both fully human and fully divine – two natures in one person, as the Nicene Creed says. It is at the conception that God incarnates into human form – God is woven into the very fabric of Jesus’ genetic makeup, forming a completely new entity: a God-man. This happens at a cellular level, starting with a single cell.

This is an important point, because it points to God’s new work of salvation, which starts at this conception. Let us think back to Genesis 3. Adam and Eve, created in perfection, chose to turn away from fellowship with God. We call that turning away ‘the Fall’, because in that moment something happened not only to Adam as an individual, but to the whole human race. The whole of humanity fell. Indeed, we can say that human nature fell. Something went wrong with who we are as people. As we heard Schaeffer say on Day 17, we are ‘glorious ruins’.

Paul writes about this in Romans 5:12, “Sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all men, because all sinned.” He continues to say this over the following verses (5:15-19): “…many died by the trespass of the one man… The judgement followed one sin and brought condemnation… by the trespass of one man, death reigned through that one man… the result of one trespass was condemnation for all men… through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners.”

In these verses Paul expresses the consequence of the Fall – the sin of one man, Adam – as death, judgement and condemnation. It is human nature that was damaged by the Fall, and that resulted in estrangement from God – the intimate fellowship that Adam and Eve had experienced in the Garden, was shattered and they were cast out into the world. Paul emphasises repeatedly that the action of ONE man impacted the MANY; indeed the ALL. In other words, Adam’s sin (and we should not forget Eve too) changed humanity.

Therefore, the incarnation is a tremendous start to God’s plan to unravel the knotty mess that Adam made. By God inserting Godself into human DNA, God begins to transform humanity at a genetic level. The incarnation is not merely a human being with a particularly large dose of Spirit. The incarnation points to an interweaving of human and divine, to form an integrated, indivisible, whole person. In doing this, God begins to redeem human nature. This does not mean that the incarnation brings salvation to every individual person. Rather, it means that the fabric of what it means to be human is redeemed. God opens up the path to a total transformation of our being, just as Adam’s sin led to a total transformation of our being.

Paul writes about this too in Romans 5:12-20. Throughout this passage, he contrasts Adam with Christ – two individuals, whose lives impacted not only on themselves but on the whole of humanity. Adam impacted us negatively – sin, death, judgement and condemnation – while Christ impacted us positively: “…how much more did God’s grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many! …the gift followed many trespasses and brought justification… how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ. …the result of one act of righteousness was justification that brings life for all men. …through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous” (5:15-19).

In these verses, which parallel the verses about Adam, Paul expresses the consequences of Jesus’ work: grace, justification, righteousness. And just as Adam’s individual sin impacted the whole of humanity, Jesus’ individual gift impacts the whole of humanity. Yet, twice in this passage, Paul says, “how much more” – Adam impacted everyone, but Jesus impacted everyone even more – the cure is much more powerful than the disease.

Paul picks up this theme again in 1 Corinthians 15:45-49, where he explicitly contrasts Adam as “the first man Adam” and Christ as “the last Adam”. And in the same passage he writes of the “first man” and the “second man”.

Thus, the incarnation is Jesus coming into the world as a renewed and restored kind of human, infused from conception with the divine, setting in motion the redemption of humanity, of human nature, that continues through his ministry and teaching, culminating in the cross and resurrection. This whole sequence of work makes possible the salvation of humanity, and our transformation into the likeness of God.

Roman Catholic and Protestant theology (in other words, the Western Church) has tended to emphasise the cross as the heart of salvation, and this is certainly correct. But the Church Fathers and the Eastern Church (such as Russian Orthodox theology), while recognising the importance of the cross, also emphasised the importance of the incarnation as being central to God’s plan of salvation. Irenaeus, for example, writing in the second century, stressed that the “incarnation itself was redemptive, not merely a necessary step toward either Christ’s teachings or the cross event. Rather the becoming human of the Son of God – God’s eternal Word (Logos) experiencing human existence – was what redeems and restores fallen humanity if they let it. … For Irenaeus, then, the incarnation was the key to the entire history of redemption and to personal salvation. The incarnation was itself transformative… In a literal sense the entire human race is ‘born again’ in the incarnation. It receives a new ‘head’ – a new source, origin, ground of being – that is unfallen, pure and healthy, victorious and immortal. It is ‘fully alive’ – both physically and spiritually.”[2]

One of my books on salvation has a section entitled, “The incarnation: God’s basic act of forgiveness.”[3] I love this title! Think about this. Human nature had fallen into ruin through Genesis 3. Despite everything that we’ve been saying so far about God’s love, let us not forget that God is also holy and righteous, and that sin really is unpleasant for him. It may help to think of sin as something that smells really bad. A couple of days ago, my neighbour laid down fresh manure in their garden – it smelled something awful and invaded every corner of our home. Sin is something like that for God.

And yet in the incarnation God chooses to come close to humanity. God chooses to not just to come close, but to come into humanity. Yet even more than this, God becomes one with humanity! Despite our brokenness and inadequacy, despite the stink of humanity’s sin, God decides to merge God’s divine nature with our human nature. Does that not shake you to the core?

What would motivate God to do such a thing? What could be so powerful as to persuade God to pinch his nose, so to speak, and dive into the smelly world of humanity?

Just one thing: LOVE.

God’s eternal and persistent love for humanity – God’s chesed (God’s loving-kindness tied up in a covenant that God made with humanity) – is extravagant. This love is not genteel, polite, proper, tightly controlled and neatly expressed. It is wild and enthusiastic and joyful and energetic and risky and beautiful! From this heart of extravagant love, God plunges into human existence, taking on all of our ugliness and embracing us just as we are – in our human nature.

This choice – this act – is a demonstration of forgiveness. It is, as Gaybba says, “a basic act of forgiveness.” Not basic in the sense of simple; but basic in the sense of a foundation – the incarnation is the base of forgiveness. It is the first and radical step in God’s great new plan for salvation of humankind.

It is here that God begins to unravel the effects of the fall. It is here that God begins to change the fabric of our being. It is here that God bridges the sin-divide between us and God. It is here that we see God’s love in action.

Meditation for the Day

Consider what it means that God incarnated into the genetic material of humanity. Reflect on God’s demonstration of forgiveness in becoming human.

Prayer for the Day

Precious Saviour, I thank you for coming into the world, for becoming one of us, for becoming like me. Transform me, from the inside to the outside, into your likeness.

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[1] There are, of course, many different perspectives on the incarnation, held fervently by sincere and true Christians. Feel free to differ from me – I do not have exclusive access to Truth. But these are views that I hold fervently and that make sense to me in light of what I understand in the Bible, of theology and my experience of God. If nothing else, let my thoughts stimulate your own thoughts.

[2] Olson, R. E. (1999). The story of Christian theology. DownersGrove, IL: InterVarsity Press, pp. 74-75.

[3] Gaybba, B. (2005). Soteriology. Pretoria: Unisa Press, p. 40.