- The Person of Christ
The Person of Christ
The Universal Need for a Mediator One of the key differences between the covenant of works and the covenant of grace is this: the covenant of grace gives us a mediator
—someone who not only joins God and man, but first reconciles them. The relationship that was broken by sin is restored through this one mediator.
This isn't just a teaching unique to Christianity. The idea that we need someone to go between us and the divine appears across all of human history and in nearly every religion. People everywhere seem to know, deep down, that they cannot come to God on their own.
There is something broken that needs to be made right. That's why in every culture—whether primitive or advanced—we find mediators: spiritual leaders, priests, kings, prophets, or heroic figures who represent the people before the divine.
Even historians notice the deep influence of certain figures throughout history. Some say these great leaders are shaped by their times. Others believe they shape history themselves. The truth lies somewhere in between. These individuals rise out of their own culture, but they also rise above it and change its direction. This is especially true in religion.
The Universal Intuition: We Need a GoBetween Every major religion has some form of a mediator:
Medicine men in tribal cultures act as spiritual intermediaries.
Priests and prophets in more developed societies offer sacrifices, deliver messages, and bless the people.
Kings, especially in ancient civilizations, were often seen as divine or semi-divine—appointed by the gods, acting as their representatives on earth.
This widespread phenomenon points to something deeply embedded in human nature: we instinctively know we need someone to stand between us and a holy God. And many religions reflect this longing through myths of divine heroes, incarnate deities, or redeeming kings.
We see hints of this longing in figures like:
Krishna in Indian religion, Osiris in Egyptian mythology, Balder in Norse legends, And even in ancient Rome, where emperors were often hailed as "saviors" and "lords."
In these hopes, however distorted, lies a kind of unconscious prophecy—a shadow of the true Mediator to come. In the highest expressions of pagan thought and poetry, there are echoes of Christ.
While they did not know Him by name, their hearts still cried out for Him.
Jesus: The True Desire of the Nations This is why the Bible speaks not only of Christ as Israel's Messiah, but also as the "Desire of All Nations" (cf. Haggai 2:7, KJV).
Though the original Hebrew speaks of nations bringing their treasures to God's temple, the idea behind the phrase—that all people long for someone like Christ—is still true and biblical.
Isaiah foretells that the nations would wait in hope for God's Servant (Isaiah 42:4), and that the distant lands would look for His salvation
(Isaiah 60:9). This desire is not limited to one race or nation; it belongs to all humanity. Deep in every heart is the yearning for peace, righteousness, and reconciliation with God—and all of it is fulfilled in Jesus Christ.
Christ: The Mediator We Truly Need So, Christianity does not introduce the idea of a mediator—it fulfills it. What all people have hoped for, even if only dimly, finds its answer in Christ alone. He is the only one who can truly bring God and humanity together because:
He is both fully God and fully man.
He alone is without sin.
He alone can offer a perfect sacrifice.
He alone rose from the dead in victory over sin and death.
He doesn't merely teach us about God—He brings us to God. He doesn't just speak for God—He is God with us (Matt. 1:23). And now, He lives forever to intercede for us (Heb. 7:25).
Devotional Reflection "For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus." — 1 Timothy 2:5
No matter your background, story, or spiritual struggles, this truth remains: you need a mediator. And in God's mercy, He has provided one—Jesus Christ.
He stands in your place. He pleads your case. He bears your burden.
He brings you to the Father.
This is the heart of the covenant of grace: not a set of rules to climb up to God, but a Savior who comes down to bring you to Himself.
Israel's Messianic Hope: A Universal Longing Fulfilled in Christ Throughout history, people everywhere have longed for a better future. Surprisingly, this longing isn't limited to Israel. Ancient cultures like Egypt, Babylon, Persia, and others had stories of coming saviors, divine kings, and golden ages of peace and justice. Some scholars have tried to explain Israel's messianic hope as just another version of this widespread dream. But the bible helps us see something deeper.
1. The Uniqueness of Israel's Hope Yes, there are similarities. Many ancient peoples hoped for a coming king to rescue them from disaster. But those hopes were often shallow—focused on politics, magic, or national pride. In contrast,
Israel's messianic expectation was spiritual, moral, and covenantal. The Messiah wasn't just a political hero—He would be the holy King who reconciles people to God.
Unlike the kings of other nations, who were called "saviors" in name only, Jesus truly is the Savior—one who delivers from sin and death and brings righteousness and eternal life (Matt.
1:21; Acts 13:23). The difference is not just in degree, but in kind. The true Messiah is more than a deliverer—He is God's answer to the world's deepest need.
2. Prophecy Grounded in History, Fulfilled in Christ Scripture tells us that God planted the seed of messianic hope as early as Genesis 3:15, promising that the offspring of the woman would crush the serpent. This hope lived on through Noah, Abraham, and the patriarchs. Israel's prophets didn't invent the idea of the Messiah—they built on God's promises from the beginning. The hope for a Redeemer wasn't borrowed from surrounding nations; it was anchored in divine revelation.
Still, some of Israel's imagery—like kingship, temple, and sacrifice— overlapped with practices found in other cultures. But God took what was common in human experience and filled it with new,
redemptive meaning. These elements became shadows pointing to Christ.
3. The Prophets Pointed Beyond Themselves Israel's prophets often pushed against popular assumptions. When the people twisted God's promises into nationalistic pride, the prophets reminded them that the "Day of the Lord" would bring not only blessing, but judgment (Amos 5:18; Joel 2:2).
Yet the vision always reached beyond Israel to the nations. God had promised Abraham that all the families of the earth would be blessed through his offspring (Gen. 12:3). This blessing wasn't merely material—it was spiritual: God Himself would be their
God. The Messiah would rule not only Israel, but the world.
4. David's House and the Coming King At the heart of Israel's hope stood God's covenant with David (2
Sam. 7:12–16). Though David's royal line faltered, the prophets clung to the promise. A righteous Branch would grow from the fallen stump of Jesse (Isa. 11:1–2), a King born in humble Bethlehem
(Mic. 5:2), yet one whose "goings forth are from of old, from everlasting."
This King would be no ordinary ruler. He would be called:
Wonderful Counselor Mighty God
Everlasting Father Prince of Peace (Isa. 9:6) He would be anointed with God's Spirit, filled with wisdom, and rule in righteousness forever. He would also be gentle, humble, and full of compassion—a King not of pride, but of peace (Zech. 9:9).
5. Prophet, Priest, and King The coming Messiah would unite all three great offices:
As Prophet, He would proclaim God's truth and bring light to the nations (Deut. 18:15; Isa. 61:1–3).
As Priest, He would offer Himself to atone for sin (Isa. 53).
As King, He would rule with justice and mercy, reigning forever over a kingdom of peace and holiness (Ps. 110).
This vision is woven into the psalms and prophets, who saw in David a glimpse of the greater Son to come. Even after prophecy ceased, the Jewish people—especially the poor and humble—held tightly to this hope (Luke 2:25, 38).
6. A Longing Kept Alive in Darkness Though official Judaism often reduced the Messiah to a political figure, the Scriptures continued to stir deeper hopes. The Old
Testament contains 456 messianic prophecies, spread across the Law, Prophets, and Writings. Apocalyptic writings like 1 Enoch, the Psalms of Solomon, and 2 Baruch kept the messianic flame
burning. People longed for the Son of David, the Son of Man, the Righteous One hidden with God, who would bring God's kingdom to earth.
Devotional Reflection "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light." —
Isaiah 9:2
The hope of Israel was never merely for a political savior. It was for the promised King, Priest, and Prophet—God's own Son, who would reign in justice and bring salvation to all who believe.
Jesus did not come as one more "savior" among many. He came as the true Desire of All Nations (Haggai 2:7), the fulfillment of every prophecy, the answer to every longing. He did not merely arise from Israel—He came for the whole world.
When we read the Old Testament, we are not reading empty shadows. We are tracing the fingerprints of Christ in every line.
The hope of the nations, the heartbeat of prophecy, the song of the psalms—it all points to Him.
Let your heart be stirred by the longings of ancient saints, and rejoice that the Messiah has come—and He will come again.
The Present and Coming Kingdom of God When Jesus began His public ministry, His message was clear:
"The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent and believe the gospel" (Mark 1:15).
With these words, Jesus declared that the long-awaited kingdom foretold by the prophets had arrived. This kingdom—where God reigns, His will is loved and obeyed, and His glory fills the earth—is not just a far-off hope. In Christ, it had drawn near.
A Kingdom Unlike Any Other The Jews of Jesus' day expected a political king who would restore
Israel's power. But Jesus went back to the Scriptures and revealed something far greater: a kingdom not built by armies or politics, but by repentance, faith, and renewal.
God is not only King—He is also our Father. His kingdom is a royal reign, yes, but it is also a family, a community of those who have been born again and adopted into His household (Matt. 6:9; Mark
3:34–35). In this kingdom, entrance is not based on religious performance, but on grace. It is open to the broken, the outcast, and the sinner—those who know their need (Matt. 5:3; Luke 19:10).
This kingdom calls us to seek first the righteousness of God (Matt. 6:33), yet it is also entirely a gift. The blessings it offers— forgiveness, righteousness, eternal life—are not earned but given freely through Christ (Matt. 19:29; Luke 12:32).
Already Here, Not Yet Complete God's kingdom has two dimensions:
It is already here: Jesus, through His life, death, and resurrection, established His reign. By His Spirit, He rules in the hearts of His people. Wherever lives are changed by repentance and faith, the kingdom is present (Matt. 12:28; Luke 17:21; Col.
1:13).
But it is also still coming: We do not yet see the fullness of that kingdom. Believers still struggle. Sin and suffering remain.
But when Christ returns, the kingdom will be fully revealed in all its glory (Matt. 25:34; Rev. 21:1–5).
So, the kingdom comes in two great moments:
1. Now, in the hearts and lives of those who believe.
2. Then, at Christ's return, when He will judge the world and make all things new.
Christ's Mission: From Humility to Glory Jesus never saw His mission as political or earthly. From the beginning, He knew His path was one of suffering and salvation. He called Himself the Son of Man, drawing from Daniel 7:13—a prophecy of a divine figure who would receive an everlasting kingdom from God.
This title emphasized that Jesus was the true Messiah, but unlike what the people expected. He was not coming to overthrow Rome, but to conquer sin and death. His first coming was not for judgment, but to save (John 3:17). His second coming will bring justice and the final unveiling of the kingdom.
Jesus, the Son of Man When Jesus called Himself "the Son of Man," He wasn't simply identifying as a humble human being or an ideal man. Nor was He borrowing a common phrase. He was deliberately using a title filled with deep meaning, one that came directly from the prophecy in Daniel 7:13, where a figure "like a son of man" comes with the clouds of heaven and is given everlasting dominion and glory by God.
Some scholars have claimed this title was misunderstood or misused in translation from Aramaic to Greek. But these theories do not hold up to careful study. The phrase "Son of Man" wasn't a common way to refer to humanity in Jesus' day, and when Jesus used it, He wasn't just saying "a man" or "a person." He was referencing a well-known image from Jewish prophecy—a heavenly figure with authority from God.
Even though Jesus often used this name for Himself, no one else— except for Stephen at his martyrdom (Acts 7:56)—called Him this.
The title didn't stir up opposition from the religious leaders, likely because they didn't fully grasp its significance. But Jesus knew exactly what He was doing. He was gradually revealing who He was, shaping His disciples' understanding of the Messiah, not by worldly standards, but according to God's redemptive plan.
Why Did Jesus Call Himself "Son of Man"?
Jesus used this title to say several important things about Himself:
1. He is truly human, not only the Son of David or King of Israel, but one who shares in the full experience of humanity. He came not just for Israel, but for the world—to give His life as a ransom for many (Matt. 20:28).
2. He is uniquely divine, not like other humans. He came from heaven, lived in perfect communion with the Father, and had authority to forgive sins, give eternal life, and bestow the blessings of the kingdom (John 3:13; Matt. 9:6).
3. His path to glory was through suffering. Unlike the popular expectation of a triumphant, political Messiah, Jesus taught that the Son of Man must suffer, die, and rise again
(Matt. 16:21; 26:64). His victory would come through humility and sacrifice.
4. He will return in glory. As the Son of Man, He will come again with the clouds of heaven to judge the nations and complete His kingdom (Matt. 25:31; Rev. 1:7).
The Son of Man from the Beginning Jesus didn't grow into this identity over time. From the very beginning of His ministry, He knew who He was and why He came.
Even at the age of twelve, He was aware of His special relationship with God, calling the temple "My Father's house" (Luke 2:49). At His baptism, the Father publicly declared Him to be His beloved Son
(Matt. 3:17).
Before Peter confessed Jesus as the Christ, Jesus had already spoken of Himself as the Son of Man. He forgave sins (Mark 2:10), claimed authority over the Sabbath (Mark 2:28), and spoke of His heavenly
mission. His words and actions continually pointed to the reality that He was not merely a prophet or teacher, but the long-promised
Messiah.
Yet He revealed this identity slowly and wisely. He didn't want His disciples—or the crowds—to misunderstand His mission as a political takeover. Instead, He patiently trained them to see that the way of the Messiah is the way of the cross. Only through suffering would He accomplish redemption, and only then would He enter into His glory.
Jesus: The Son of God In the Old Testament, the term "son of God" was used first for the nation of Israel, then for Israel's king, and finally for the coming
Messiah. So when people in the New Testament—like demons, Jewish leaders, or even the disciples—called Jesus the "Son of God," they may still have had this theocratic meaning in mind, thinking of Him as the promised King.
But Jesus gives the title a deeper and more glorious meaning.
He is not the Son of God because He is the Messiah or the King.
Rather, He is the Messiah and King because He is the eternal Son of God. His identity flows from His eternal relationship with the Father. God is His Father in a unique way (Luke 2:49). At both
His baptism and His transfiguration, God declared from heaven, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased" (Matt. 3:17;
17:5).
Jesus spoke of this intimate, exclusive relationship: "No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son…" (Matt. 11:27). Everything Jesus did—His words, His miracles,
His mercy—flowed from His deep union with the Father.
Because He is the Son, Jesus spoke and acted with divine authority.
He placed Himself above prophets, priests, kings, even angels. He forgave sins (Mark 2:10), called people to leave everything and follow
Him (Matt. 10:37), promised eternal life, and taught with the authority of the King of heaven.
The Apostles' Faith in the Son Even before the resurrection, Jesus revealed enough about His identity that the Gospels already contain the heart of what the apostles and the Church would later teach. Yet the disciples didn't fully understand who He was during His earthly ministry. Jesus patiently led them, preparing their hearts, and promising the Holy
Spirit would complete their understanding (John 16:12–13).
But after the resurrection, everything became clear. They now saw Jesus for who He truly was: not just a great teacher or miracle worker, but the exalted Lord from heaven. The teachings of Paul and John didn't contradict what the other apostles believed—they simply built on what Jesus had already revealed.
The Word Made Flesh Jesus became truly human. The Bible says He was born from the line of Abraham and David (Rom. 1:3; Gal. 3:16), from the tribe of Judah
(Heb. 7:14), born of a woman (Gal. 4:4), and like us in every way,
though without sin (Heb. 4:15). He grew tired, wept, rejoiced, suffered, and died. He experienced real human life, including temptation, pain, and obedience.
But this same Jesus was also entirely without sin (2 Cor. 5:21; Heb.
7:26; 1 Pet. 2:22). He rose from the dead, ascended into heaven, and now reigns in glory at the Father's right hand.
More than that—He existed before time began. He is the eternal Word (John 1:1), the One through whom all things were made (Col.
1:16). He is the exact image of God's nature (Heb. 1:3), greater than angels (Heb. 1:4), and the One in whom all things hold together
(Col. 1:17). He is the Son in a way that no one else is, fully divine and one with the Father (John 10:30). He is rightly called
God (John 1:1; 20:28; Rom. 9:5; Titus 2:13).
Devotional Reflection "And we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth." — John 1:14
Jesus is not just a great man or a model of virtue. He is God the Son, eternally begotten of the Father, who came into our world to redeem us. He took on real human flesh to live our life, die our death, and rise again so that we might live through Him.
This truth is not dry doctrine—it is the heartbeat of our faith.
The same Jesus who was tired at the well and wept at the tomb is the One who reigns over heaven and earth. And because He is both God and man, He is able to bring us to God, to forgive our sins, and to give us eternal life.
In Christ, we behold the wonder of divine love made flesh.
Clarifying Who Christ Is: Early Church Conflicts and the Truth They Defended The apostles proclaimed a rich and glorious truth about Jesus Christ
—that He is both fully God and fully man, the only Savior of the world. But this truth was so profound that it took time for the early
Church to fully express it in clear terms, especially in the face of rising errors and heresies.
In the earliest years after the apostles, many believers honored Jesus with high titles, calling Him Lord, Savior, and Son of God. But these expressions still needed to be defined with care. Two major errors arose that forced the Church to think more deeply about who Jesus truly is:
1. Ebionitism: Jesus as Only a Man Some taught that Jesus was a remarkable man, perhaps divinely chosen and empowered by the Holy Spirit, but still just a man—a descendant of David, given a mission to be Israel's king in an earthly sense. This view reduced Christ to a human prophet and denied His divine nature.
2. Gnosticism: Jesus as a Spirit from Heaven
Others went to the opposite extreme. Influenced by Greek thinking that viewed the physical world as evil, they claimed that Christ was a divine being who only seemed human. According to this view, Christ either temporarily used a human body or never truly took on flesh at all. These teachings denied Jesus' true humanity.
Both of these teachings were serious errors because they distorted the heart of the gospel. If Jesus were only a man, He could not save us. If He were not truly human, He could not represent us. The Church saw clearly that to remain faithful to Scripture, it had to confess both: Jesus is truly God and truly man in one person.
The Church's Growing Clarity From the beginning, all true Christians believed that Jesus is the Son of God and truly human. Though they may not have had fully developed language yet, they confessed the same faith we do today.
Teachers like Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, and Tertullian worked this out in clearer detail:
Irenaeus taught that Jesus is the eternal Word who created all things and became flesh for our salvation. He is truly God and truly man—one and the same Christ who died and rose again.
Tertullian spoke of Christ as having two "substances" (natures) —divine and human—united in one person.
Augustine echoed this, saying that Jesus is the one Mediator who joins God and humanity in Himself, lifting us to heaven while coming down to us in grace.
The Challenge of Clear Language In the East, however, it took longer to settle on precise terms. Words like essence, nature, person, and substance were still being refined, which caused confusion and some disagreements. Some spoke of Christ's natures as being "mixed" or "blended," unintentionally undermining His full humanity or full divinity.
This confusion led to further errors:
Nestorianism separated Christ's two natures too much, making Him seem like two persons.
Eutychianism blurred the two natures into one, losing either His full divinity or humanity.
Patripassianism wrongly suggested that God the Father suffered on the cross.
The Council of Chalcedon (AD 451) Eventually, with the help of strong teachers like Pope Leo the Great, the Church gathered at the Council of Chalcedon and made a clear, faithful confession about Jesus:
Jesus Christ is one person with two natures—fully God and fully man—without confusion, without change, without division, and without separation.
This statement protects the full truth:
Jesus is one person—not two.
He is both truly divine and truly human.
His two natures are not mixed, and yet not separated.
Why This Matters for Us Understanding who Jesus is isn't just about getting doctrine right— it's about worship, salvation, and knowing God. If Jesus isn't truly
God, we have no Savior. If He isn't truly human, we have no Substitute. But because He is both, He alone can bring us to God.
"Great indeed, we confess, is the mystery of godliness: He was manifested in the flesh…" — 1 Timothy 3:16
The early Church struggled and even suffered to guard this truth. But they preserved it for us—so that we might know the true Christ, worship Him rightly, and trust Him fully.
Christ After Chalcedon: Unity and Division in Understanding Jesus The Council of Chalcedon (AD 451) set essential boundaries for how the Church should speak about Christ. It confessed that Jesus is one person with two natures—fully God and fully man—united without confusion, change, division, or separation. This confession has stood as a beacon of orthodoxy through the centuries. Yet even within this shared foundation, Christians have continued to wrestle with the mystery and majesty of Christ. The question "What do you
think of the Christ?" (Matt. 22:42) has never stopped stirring debate and devotion alike.
1. The Eastern Emphasis: The Divine Transforming the Human In the Eastern churches, the dominant vision of Christ centered on this idea: God became human so that humans might become partakers in God's nature. This belief, rooted in 2 Peter 1:4, focused heavily on themes of immortality, eternal life, and "deification"—that is, being drawn up into the life of God.
For Eastern theologians, sin's effects were seen more as physical decay than moral guilt, so salvation looked more like healing and transformation than justification and forgiveness. This naturally led to a mystical approach to Christ, one that treasured the mystery of the incarnation more than the work of Christ's suffering on the cross.
As a result:
The divinity of Christ often overshadowed His humanity.
The focus was on the union of divine and human, not so much the distinctness of the two natures.
Some even began to speak of Christ as having one nature after the incarnation, not two—a view called Monophysitism, which kept reappearing under different names and movements.
While these views emphasized the glory of God in Christ, they often blurred the real humanity of Jesus. And without a clear distinction
between God and man, the gospel risks being replaced by mysticism —or even collapsing into pagan ideas of merging with the divine.
2. The Western Emphasis: The One Savior Who Suffered for Sin In the Western church, there was a sharper clarity between Christ's two natures: He is fully divine and fully human, each nature remaining distinct even in their union. This theological clarity had deep roots, going back to Tertullian and solidified through Augustine.
For the West, the emphasis lay more on ethics than metaphysics:
Not simply that Christ became man, But why He became man: to suffer, die, and make satisfaction for sin.
This stress on atonement brought the cross into the center of Christ's identity. Yet even in the West, dangers crept in. Influenced by Eastern mysticism, some began to speak as if human beings could be
"divinized" through contemplation or grace. Teachings like:
The idea of "superadded gifts" in Adam, The mystical visions of saints, The doctrine of transubstantiation in the Eucharist—
—all hinted that the finite (human) could somehow contain or absorb the infinite (divine). And since Christ's humanity was the
most direct union of the human and divine, it became the theological testing ground for these ideas.
What This Means for Us Today Christology is not just an abstract subject for theologians—it is the foundation of our faith. We must know who Jesus is, because only then can we truly trust what He has done.
If we lose sight of Christ's divinity, we have no Savior mighty to save.
If we forget His true humanity, we have no High Priest who can sympathize with our weakness (Heb. 4:15).
If we confuse or blend His natures, we undermine the uniqueness of His person and the power of His cross.
Let us hold fast to the wonder of Christ: one person, two natures— God with us (Matt. 1:23), for us (Rom. 8:31), and in us (Col.
1:27).
The Two Natures of Christ: True God and True Man The Church has long confessed that Jesus Christ is both fully God and fully man, united in one person. But how exactly do these two natures relate within the one Christ? This has been the subject of deep thought and disagreement across church history.
The Glory of the Divine in the Humanity of Christ According to much of traditional theology (especially in the East and in Roman Catholic thought), while Christ's divine and human natures are not mixed or confused, the divine nature completely filled or radiated through his human nature—like fire in glowing iron. In this view:
Christ, as a man, already had complete wisdom and perfect sight of God (the "beatific vision") from the moment of his incarnation.
He never truly had to exercise faith or hope, since he saw and knew all things clearly.
His growth in wisdom, such as described in Luke 2:52, was merely a matter of appearance—not real inner development.
Even his prayers weren't out of need but given as examples for us.
Though he passed through human experiences like hunger and sorrow, his humanity was already glorified and worthy of worship.
This idea led some to say that every part of Christ's human nature— including his physical heart—deserves adoration, because it shared in the divine.
Lutheran Theology: Similar Yet Different
Lutheran teaching agreed that Christ's human nature was deeply united with his divine nature. But it went further by saying that divine attributes like omnipresence, omniscience, and omnipotence were directly shared with Christ's humanity—even during his earthly life.
In this view:
Christ's human body could be present everywhere (a belief called ubiquity), even before his resurrection.
He always possessed divine power, even when he seemed weak or limited.
His humanity had access to all divine attributes, though some were hidden during his humiliation.
To explain this, Lutheran theologians distinguished between two moments:
1. Incarnation – when the divine Word took on human flesh and shared his divine powers with it.
2. Self-emptying (exinanition) – when Christ, though still possessing those divine powers, chose to conceal or withhold their use during his earthly ministry.
This led to debate: Was Jesus only appearing to grow, suffer, and die —while secretly remaining fully powerful the whole time? Some said yes. Others said he had the power but didn't use it until after his resurrection. But all agreed that after his exaltation, Christ fully exercised these divine attributes through his glorified human nature.
Why This Matters We must see a danger here: If we overemphasize Christ's divine power in his humanity, we risk making his real suffering, growth, and obedience seem like a show. But Scripture teaches us that Jesus:
Grew in wisdom (Luke 2:52), Learned obedience through suffering (Heb. 5:8), And truly hungered, wept, and died.
He was not pretending. His humanity was real, limited, and vulnerable. And it was precisely in that weakness that God's glory was most beautifully revealed (Phil. 2:6–11). The glory of Christ is not that he skipped the hardships of human life, but that he endured them faithfully for our salvation.
A Faithful Christ for Real People Jesus Christ is not a distant divine being hiding behind a human mask. He is the eternal Son of God, who took on real human flesh, shared in our weakness, was tempted like us in every way yet without sin, and humbled himself to death—even death on a cross.
And now, raised in glory, he is still truly human—our Brother and our King—reigning in heaven, interceding for us, and preparing a place for us (Heb. 7:25; John 14:2–3). This mystery stirs both awe and comfort: in Christ, God has truly come near, not only in power but in love, humility, and suffering.
The Reformed Understanding of Christ's Two Natures From the start, Reformed theologians took a different path from both the Greek-Roman and Lutheran traditions when it came to understanding the person of Christ. They held firmly to the biblical truth that Jesus is one person with two distinct natures— divine and human—without confusing or blending them.
God in the Flesh—but Not in a Confused Way Where others were tempted to let the divine nature overwhelm the human—making Jesus seem less truly human—Reformed theology protected the full reality of Christ's humanity. It insisted on this important principle:
"The finite cannot contain the infinite."
This means that even in his exalted state, Christ's human nature remains fully human—finite, limited, and creaturely, though now glorified. His divinity did not erase or overpower his humanity.
Why This Matters Because of this careful distinction:
Jesus truly grew and developed in wisdom and obedience during his earthly life.
His suffering and death were real, not merely an appearance.
There's a genuine difference between his state of humiliation (on earth, in weakness) and his state of exaltation (risen, ascended, reigning).
This approach gave room for a biblical and realistic view of Jesus' human life while holding fast to his divine identity.
Not Two Sons—But One Person Some critics accused the Reformed view of being "Nestorian"—of splitting Christ into two separate persons (one divine, one human).
But this is a misunderstanding. Reformed theology never said that two beings were joined in Christ. Rather, it taught that the person of the eternal Son—not just his divine nature—became truly human.
It wasn't just that "God's nature" became flesh. It was God the Son himself who entered our world and took on human flesh, soul, mind, and will. He did not merely appear to be human—he became human, while remaining fully divine.
A Unified Person, Not a Blended Nature This unity is not found in a mixing of the two natures, but in the one person who possesses both. Just as in the Trinity we confess three persons sharing one essence, here we confess one person with two distinct natures—without confusion, without separation.
Reformed theology emphasizes the importance of personhood—of self-aware, moral, relational being—as the highest form of life. That insight shapes its whole view of Christ. The Son didn't merely wear a human costume; he lived a truly human life, as a conscious, obedient Son, all for our salvation.
Modern Challenges to the Person of Christ After the early church's confession at Chalcedon—that Jesus is one person with two natures, fully God and fully man—many throughout history still wrestled with that truth. Some rejected it outright, either emphasizing Jesus' humanity at the expense of his divinity, or his divinity in ways that erased his true humanity. These old errors reappeared in new forms, especially in modern theology, where thinkers began reshaping Christ to fit human reason and experience, rather than receiving Him as revealed in Scripture.
Kant: Christ as a Moral Example, Not a Savior The philosopher Immanuel Kant rejected anything supernatural as unknowable. He saw no need for a Savior, believing we could become good simply because we ought to. To Kant, Jesus was merely a model of perfect virtue—an inspiration to live rightly—not a Redeemer. Christ's incarnation, death, and resurrection were just symbols pointing to the ideal human being. Salvation, in this view, means becoming moral—not being saved from sin.
Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel: God and Humanity Blurred Others, like Fichte, taught that God and humanity are essentially the same. Jesus was the first to realize this and helped others see it.
But Fichte claimed we could find this truth without Jesus at all.
Schelling went further. He taught that God becomes real through the world and history. Christ, then, isn't the eternal Son made flesh, but a moment in the unfolding of divine life. The world itself is God's incarnation, and Jesus is just one part of that ongoing process.
Hegel said theology uses images and symbols, but philosophy reveals their deeper meaning. For him, Christ simply represents the idea that all people can become aware of their divine nature. So Jesus is not the unique Son of God, but a symbol of what all humans can become.
Following this logic, David Strauss concluded that all of Christianity's teaching about Christ—his virgin birth, sinless life, resurrection, and ascension—should be seen not as historical events, but as myths expressing the ideal of perfect humanity.
Schleiermacher: Jesus as the Most GodConscious Human Friedrich Schleiermacher, though also rejecting traditional doctrines, tried to keep Christ at the center. He emphasized the experience of faith rather than abstract philosophy. For him,
Jesus was not divine by nature, but uniquely filled with Godconsciousness—a perfect awareness of and dependence on God.
He didn't save by dying for sin, but by being the model of perfect spiritual life. His person, not his work, was what mattered most.
Schleiermacher's Influence on Modern Theology Because of Schleiermacher, many modern theologians began to:
1. Emphasize Jesus as a unique revelation of God, even if they denied the Trinity.
2. Focus on his human development, studying his life in the context of Jewish and world history.
3. View the incarnation not just as God's response to sin, but as part of God's eternal plan for creation—a kind of natural development toward humanity's perfection.
In this view, Jesus becomes the ideal human, the "second Adam," the head of a new humanity. But the biblical emphasis on Christ as Redeemer—who came to save sinners—was often lost.
A Shift in the Idea of God and Christ Eventually, even the idea of God began to shift. Some taught that God himself was still "becoming," still unfolding through history. In this view, Jesus was not the eternal Son incarnate, but the highest point of God's development—a person in whom divine purpose came to light.
Why This Matters
These modern ideas about Christ are not just philosophical detours.
They undermine the heart of the gospel:
If Jesus is only a moral example, we are left with law, not grace.
If Jesus is just the best of humanity, we still need a Redeemer who is truly God.
If Christ is only a symbol, then there is no one who bore our sins, defeated death, or intercedes for us now.
True Christian faith rests not on abstract ideas or moral ideals, but on a real person—Jesus Christ, the eternal Son of God who took on our flesh, lived a sinless life, died for our sins, rose again, and reigns at the right hand of the Father.
"And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory..." — John 1:14
Modern Christology Continued: The "Becoming" of the God-Man Some modern theologians moved even further away from the biblical confession of Christ. They began speaking of Jesus not as the eternal
Son of God who took on human nature, but as someone who became the Son through a process of spiritual growth. In this view, Jesus started in a kind of middle stage—"in the form of God"—but was still connected to a fallen world that the Father left under his care.
Through obedience and self-denial, Jesus slowly rose to full Sonship, finally becoming the perfect Son at the end of history.
This idea—that the "God-man" was in the process of becoming— shaped mystical and philosophical schools of thought. Thinkers like
Baader and Steffens, and even Rothe and Dorner, began to describe Jesus as someone who slowly became divine as he matured spiritually. God (or the eternal Word) didn't fully dwell in Jesus from the start, but gradually entered him more deeply as Jesus became more "spiritual." In this view, the divine and human grow together—
God becoming more human, and Jesus becoming more divine.
The "Kenosis" Theory: God Emptying Himself Another attempt to explain Christ's humanity was the kenosis doctrine. This taught that when the eternal Word (Logos) became flesh, he emptied himself of divine attributes—like omniscience or omnipotence—and lowered himself to the level of ordinary human experience. Over time, according to this view, Jesus regained these divine traits as he grew spiritually and morally. But this idea dangerously undermines the truth of Christ's full deity and unchanging divine nature.
Ritschl: Ethical Christ Without the Supernatural The theologian Albrecht Ritschl, building on Schleiermacher but more influenced by Kant, took yet another path. He rejected anything supernatural—such as Christ's virgin birth, preexistence, resurrection, ascension, and return—because he believed modern
science and historical research made such beliefs impossible. For Ritschl, Jesus was fully human, but his greatness came from his ethical mission.
Jesus' purpose, in Ritschl's view, was to found the kingdom of God, a moral community built on love and justice. What made Jesus unique was that his will was perfectly aligned with God's. That perfect obedience made him the ideal human and the supreme example of what God wants for all people.
Because of this, Ritschl said Jesus reveals God—not in his being, but in his mission. Christ is not God by nature but functions as God in his role. That is, Jesus may be called "God" not because of who he is in essence, but because of what he does. He represents God's rule,
God's grace, and God's plan for the world. His "deity" is a title of honor, not a statement of his divine nature.
Why This Matters These modern views—from mystical processes of becoming, to ethical models stripped of divine nature—depersonalize Christ and downplay the miracle of the incarnation. They turn Jesus into a spiritual symbol or a moral teacher, rather than the eternal Son of God who took on human flesh to save sinners.
But the Scriptures teach clearly:
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God... And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us..." (John 1:1, 14)
True faith clings to the mystery and majesty of this confession: that Jesus Christ is fully God and fully man, from the first moment of his incarnation to all eternity—not in the process of becoming divine, but eternally so, for us and for our salvation.
Returning to the "Historical" Jesus: A Modern Crisis During the 19th century, many theologians reacted to the cold rationalism and moralism of earlier generations by turning back to Jesus himself. They wanted to recover the historical figure of Christ
—not merely as a doctrine, but as someone with lasting significance for personal faith. Some, like Ritschl and his followers, tried to focus on Jesus' inner life and moral greatness, believing that even the most critical historians had to acknowledge his goodness. For them, this moral beauty pointed to God's presence in Jesus.
Others, like Kaftan, took a more conservative view. He believed that the risen Lord whom the church worships is the same Jesus who walked the earth. Because God revealed Himself fully through Christ
—by His life, Spirit, and grace—the church rightly confesses Jesus as Lord and God. Still, others like Häring preferred to speak more cautiously, wanting to avoid the confusion that the word "deity" might cause, even while maintaining that Jesus was the full selfrevelation of God.
Despite their differences, these theologians all tried to preserve some version of Christology (the doctrine of Christ) in their theology, though many of them were uncomfortable affirming the full divine identity of Jesus as the church had done for centuries.
A Divide: The Historical Jesus vs. the Christ of Faith At the heart of this modern trend was a deep suspicion: perhaps the church's confession about Christ had been distorted over time. Many argued that Greek philosophy and Eastern mysticism had corrupted the simple gospel of Jesus. They claimed the original message was not about Jesus himself, but about the love of God and the dignity of the human soul. Some, like Lagarde, blamed the apostle Paul for changing everything—making Jesus into a preexistent being, turning his death into an atonement, and introducing sacraments with mystical power.
Even more moderate thinkers like Harnack still believed Paul had shifted the gospel's focus—from a personal relationship with God to belief in a divine Savior. Their motto became: "Back to Jesus." But not the Jesus of Paul or John—the Jesus of the Sermon on the Mount.
The Irony of "Back to Jesus"
Yet this attempt to return to the "real" Jesus did not bring greater clarity. Instead, it led to more confusion. Harnack's own famous lectures claimed that Christianity is not about doctrines or miracles, but about the moral experience of knowing God as Father and living like His child. According to Harnack, Jesus didn't preach about himself or claim to be divine. He just revealed God's fatherly love and called people to live out that relationship in their daily lives.
But this version of Jesus didn't match the Jesus described in the Gospels. Harnack's Jesus had no atonement, no resurrection, no
need for saving grace—just moral uplift and inward peace. It was a gospel without a Savior.
What the Gospels Actually Say However, the more scholars studied the Gospels, the more they saw that the high view of Christ is not something that appears later in Paul or John—it is already present in Matthew, Mark, and Luke.
These so-called "Synoptic" Gospels reveal Jesus claiming divine authority, forgiving sins, doing miracles, declaring himself to be the Messiah, dying as a ransom for many, and promising to return in glory.
This isn't just what others said about him—it's what he said about himself. From the beginning of his public ministry, Jesus spoke and acted with divine self-awareness. The Christ of the apostles and the Christ of the Gospels is one and the same.
Even historically, the Gospels were written after many of Paul's letters, meaning they came from the same early church and cannot be dismissed as later inventions. Among the apostles, there was no debate about who Jesus was—they all proclaimed him as Lord and Savior.
The Endless Search for "the Real Jesus"
Nevertheless, some continued to dig beneath the Gospels, convinced that only fragments of truth remained. The goal was to find the most original "layer" of Jesus' life—what he really said and did before the church shaped the story. But this pursuit led to confusion. Every scholar seemed to discover a different Jesus:
To Carlyle, he was a heroic figure.
To Strauss, a religious genius.
To Renan, a kindhearted reformer.
To Schopenhauer, a preacher of self-denial.
To Proudhon, a social radical.
Everyone reshaped Jesus in their own image.
Even scholars couldn't agree whether Jesus saw himself as the Messiah. Some said yes, but claimed this was only a cultural form he adopted. Others said no—he never made such claims at all. Some even questioned whether Jesus ever truly existed. The further they tried to go "back to Jesus," the less they could say with certainty about him.
The Crisis of Denying the Christ of Scripture Some modern thinkers tried to explain away the Jesus of the Bible.
They claimed that the church invented the Christ of faith—his miracles, his divine sonship, his resurrection—by mixing in ideas from Jewish prophecy, Greek philosophy, or even Eastern religions like Buddhism. According to them, the figure of Christ wasn't rooted in real history but was built up over time by the church's imagination, shaped by cultural pressures and spiritual hopes.
But these theories lead to a troubling conclusion: if Jesus wasn't really who the church said he was, then the church has been spreading a falsehood for two thousand years. And if all the claims about Christ's divine nature, miraculous power, and saving work are just symbolic or borrowed myths, then what remains of the gospel?
At first, these ideas still tried to show respect for Jesus—as a wise teacher or a moral hero misunderstood by his followers. But the more radical the theories became, the more even that reverence disappeared. Some critics went so far as to suggest that Jesus suffered from delusions, or even mental illness—that he was a tragic figure who failed in his mission and died disillusioned.
Such views are not only deeply offensive—they strip Christ of his glory, deny the gospel, and shatter the hope of salvation.
A Needed Awakening: Returning to the True Christ Yet this very extremism prompted a wake-up call. Many realized that the effort to separate the "historical Jesus" from the Christ of the New Testament was a failure. The Jesus we meet in the Gospels is the same Christ preached by Paul and John. There is no hidden or unknown Jesus behind the Scriptures. From his birth to his resurrection, he is the Son of God, the Savior, the risen Lord.
Even some modern theologians began to recognize that Christ cannot be reduced to a symbol or moral example. If Christianity is to be more than vague spirituality, Jesus must be more than a teacher—he must be the very revelation of God. In him, they
said, we see someone utterly unique—one in whom God Himself dwelled in a way that has never been seen before or since.
The Only Christ Worth Following If we're going to speak of Christ as central to the Christian faith—not just as someone who points to God, but as the One who brings us to God—we must go further. Christ must not only be "in God" (as a prophet might be)—he must be God. Not metaphorically, not symbolically, but truly, eternally God—the only begotten Son of the Father.
That's the only Christ who can save sinners, reconcile us to the Father, and reign as Lord. And that's the Christ the church has always confessed: crucified, risen, and reigning in glory.
"Thomas answered him, 'My Lord and my God!'" — John 20:28
The person of Jesus is not a puzzle to be solved or a myth to be deconstructed. He is the cornerstone of our faith, the radiance of God's glory, and the exact imprint of His nature (Hebrews 1:3). To lose this Christ is to lose the gospel itself. But to cling to Him in faith is to have life, truth, and peace.
Christ at the Center of All Things The doctrine of Christ—who He is and what He has done—is not the starting point of Christian theology, but it is its center. Everything else in the Christian faith either points toward Christ or flows out from Him. He is the heart of our theology, and through Him pulses the very life of our faith. As Scripture declares:
"Great indeed, we confess, is the mystery of godliness:
He was manifested in the flesh..."
— 1 Timothy 3:16
This mystery—the incarnation, God becoming man—stands at the center of all Christian truth.
The Incarnation: The Turning Point of History If Jesus Christ is truly the Word made flesh, then His coming into the world is not just one moment among many. It is the central event in the entire story of the world. It was not a last-minute fix to human sin, but something prepared before time began, something with eternal consequences and glory.
The incarnation is the moment in which God's righteousness and mercy shine most clearly. In Christ, God doesn't abandon the world
He made, but enters into it, taking on flesh in order to defeat sin, reveal His grace, and uphold His holy name.
Not Just a Historical Figure Philosophers like Schelling once said that it's difficult to believe someone who appears only in history could also exist before the world began. How can a person born in time be eternal? How can we say that someone who lived in a specific place and era also existed before creation?
That seems impossible—unless that person is God in the flesh.
But Scripture tells us that Jesus Christ is not merely a remarkable man, a teacher, or a moral hero. He is the eternal Son of God, who existed before all worlds, who was sent by the Father to redeem us, and who now reigns in glory.
The Glory of the Gospel When we view Christ not just with human eyes, but through the lens of God's revelation, we see Him as He truly is: the eternal One, the appointed Mediator, the very image of the invisible God. In Him,
God's justice is satisfied, His mercy is displayed, and His name is glorified forever.
This is why Christ stands at the center—not only of theology, but of all human history, and of every believer's heart.
The Incarnation Depends on the Trinity The doctrine that God became man—the incarnation—is only possible if we begin with the truth that God is Triune: one God in three persons—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
False views of God like Deism (which says God is distant) and pantheism (which says God is everything and loses His identity in the world) leave no room for a personal God entering our world.
That's why people like the Socinians, who denied the Trinity, also rejected the incarnation. They called it nonsense—like saying God became a donkey or that a circle became a square.
But Scripture tells us something else: God is love (1 John 4:8), and love by its nature shares and gives itself. For love to exist, there must be relationship, and that's what we find in the eternal fellowship of the Trinity. Because God exists as Father, Son, and Spirit, He can share Himself without losing Himself. Only in the Trinity can we understand how God remains fully God while still drawing near to us in Christ.
It Was the Son, Not the Father or Spirit, Who Became Man When we say, "God became man," we must be precise. It wasn't the divine essence or all of God in some vague sense that became human. It was specifically the eternal Son, the second person of the Trinity.
This is what Scripture teaches:
"The Word became flesh..." (John 1:14) "Though he was in the form of God... he humbled himself..."
(Phil. 2:6–8) "Since the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things..." (Heb. 2:14)
The Son, not the Father or the Spirit, took on human flesh. This truth guards us from error. If we said the entire divine nature became human, we would confuse God's being with creation. But the person of the Son, who fully possesses the divine nature, united himself to human nature. So, while Jesus is truly God, He is also truly human—without mixing or confusion between the two natures.
Why Was It Fitting for the Son to Become Man?
The Son is the eternal image of the Father. He was already the mediator of creation (John 1:3), the One through whom all things were made. So it was fitting that the Son would also be the mediator of redemption. As the Son, He could restore us to sonship—to be children of God.
The incarnation, though uniquely the work of the Son, was a work of the entire Trinity:
The Father sent the Son, The Son took on our flesh, The Spirit formed Him in the womb of the virgin Mary.
Reformed theology beautifully expresses this unity in the doctrine of the pact of redemption (Latin: pactum salutis)—the eternal agreement within the Trinity to save sinners.
The Incarnation Was No Afterthought The incarnation wasn't an emergency fix or a plan B after the fall. It was planned before the world began, from all eternity. There was never a time when the Son did not know He would become man.
The covenant of grace—the promise of redemption—was grounded in eternal love within the Trinity.
The incarnation is not something forced by necessity (as in pantheism), nor something God just happened to decide later (as in Pelagianism). Instead, it flows from God's eternal purpose and loving will to glorify Himself in the redemption of sinners.
In Christ, God Comes Near Without Ceasing to Be God Here is the wonder: God does not lose Himself in becoming man. He does not stop being God. And man is not swallowed up into deity.
Rather, in Jesus Christ, God and humanity are united in one person—the Son—without confusion, without change, without division.
This is the miracle and the mystery of our salvation.
Incarnation and Creation The incarnation—God becoming man in Jesus Christ—is rooted not only in the Trinity, but also in the very act of creation.
When God created the world, He made finite, limited creatures. It's impossible for any creature to be equal to God in essence. Still, God chose to make human beings in His image, capable of knowing, loving, and relating to Him. This is what sets humans apart from the rest of creation—stones, plants, and animals were not created for this kind of fellowship. But in humanity, God made a creature that could truly receive His self-revelation.
That's why the incarnation isn't absurd—it's the climax of God's plan. If God could make human beings in His image and speak to them, then He could also enter into humanity as one of us.
Creation itself prepares the way for Christ. And if you accept that God made the world, then you can't reasonably deny the possibility of the incarnation.
The human capacity for communion with God, found already in Adam, was the groundwork for Christ taking on flesh. Creation anticipated Christ. From the beginning, the world was structured in such a way that Christ could come to redeem it. Even the fall into sin didn't take God by surprise. It was already part of His eternal counsel to send His Son in flesh to save a fallen world.
Some theologians have speculated that Christ would have become incarnate even if humanity had never sinned. They argue that the Son's coming was necessary to bring creation to its highest goal. But this goes beyond what Scripture teaches. While there's truth in
recognizing Christ as the goal and head of all things, the Bible consistently links Christ's incarnation with sin and redemption (Matt. 1:21; John 1:29; Gal. 4:4–5; 1 John 3:8).
God's eternal plan, from the beginning, was to redeem His people through Christ. The incarnation was not an adjustment to human failure—it was part of God's sovereign and gracious design from eternity.
Incarnation and the History of Revelation God didn't send His Son into the world immediately after the fall.
Instead, there was a long history of preparation, what Scripture calls the "fullness of time" (Gal. 4:4).
From the very beginning, the eternal Word—the Son—was at work in creation and in history. He gave light and life to the world, even after sin entered in. He was the Angel of the Covenant, revealing God to His people through prophets, signs, and wonders. Through Israel, and even through the broader Gentile world, God was preparing a cradle for the birth of Christ.
The incarnation is the climax of all revelation. It builds upon God's acts in creation and history. If God could reveal Himself in creation and through His Word, then surely the incarnation is not just possible—it is the fulfillment of that revelation. God did not remain far off. In Christ, He drew near and made His dwelling among us (John 1:14).
Mary and the Mystery of Christ's Birth This long preparation reaches its highest point in the choosing of Mary, a young virgin of Nazareth, to be the mother of Jesus.
She was highly favored (Luke 1:28), honored above all women, chosen to carry in her womb the very Son of God. In this, Mary received a dignity no other creature has ever known.
The Roman Catholic Church, recognizing this great privilege, eventually went far beyond Scripture, teaching doctrines like Mary's immaculate conception (that she was sinless from birth) and even her bodily assumption into heaven. These teachings rest not on biblical evidence, but on a theology that assumes Mary must be like God to be close to God—a view shaped by a hierarchical and mystical system.
This elevation of Mary has, sadly, led to Mariolatry—the worship of Mary—where she is treated almost as divine. In some Catholic art and teaching, Mary is portrayed as ruling even over the Father and the Son, which undermines the exclusive worship due to God alone.
The Reformation rightly rejected this. Yet the Reformers did not dishonor Mary. They affirmed that she was the chosen vessel of the incarnation, a woman of deep faith, obedience, and grace. She conceived Christ by the Holy Spirit, carried Him, nurtured Him, and taught Him. She is, indeed, blessed among women, not to be worshiped, but to be honored with reverent gratitude as the one through whom God brought His Son into the world.
Summary Devotional Thought In Jesus Christ, eternal glory met humble humanity. His incarnation was no last-minute rescue plan—it was the crown of God's eternal purpose. The world was made for this. History moved toward this. And in a humble virgin, God prepared a heart and a womb where His own Son would dwell.
The incarnation teaches us that God is not distant. He is the God who speaks, who enters in, who became like us to save us. And through Christ, we are invited into the very life and love of the Triune
God.
The Incarnation and the Witness of Scripture While Jesus came into the world through the long history of Israel and by the working of God through creation and revelation, He is not simply the product of history. He is not the highest example of religious genius, nor merely the finest fruit of Israel's spiritual life.
His coming was not something the world slowly grew into; He came from outside of it—He is the eternal Son of God made flesh.
Even for ordinary people, it's often said that no one can be completely explained by their parents or their environment. But this is far more true of Christ. As Scripture says, He is the eternal
Word, who was with God and was God from the very beginning (John 1:1, 14).
Though many throughout history have denied Christ's divinity, Scripture consistently teaches it—not in a few obscure places, but everywhere, openly and boldly.
The Bible teaches that Christ:
Existed eternally, before the world began (John 8:58; 17:5) Is the Son of God in a unique and divine way (Matt. 3:17; John
1:14) Created and sustains all things (John 1:3; Col. 1:16–17; Heb. 1:3)
Brings salvation to all who believe (Matt. 1:21; Acts 4:12) Is King over the church and Lord over all (Eph. 1:22; Phil.
2:9) Will judge the living and the dead (John 5:27; Acts 17:31) Is directly called God in the New Testament (John 1:1; Rom.
9:5; Titus 2:13; Heb. 1:8) This testimony isn't built on isolated verses—it is woven into the whole fabric of the New Testament.
What Critics Miss Those who oppose the deity of Christ often claim they are following
Scripture more faithfully than the church's historic confession. But this position doesn't last long. The more deeply one reads Scripture— honestly and without bias—the more clearly it points to the truth the church has always confessed: Jesus is true God and true man.
Some try to reduce Jesus to a great moral teacher by retreating to the "Jesus of history" in the Synoptic Gospels, ignoring the full revelation of the New Testament. But this strategy ultimately fails.
The same Christ who is worshiped in John's Gospel is the one who speaks with divine authority in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. The more critics try to peel away the supernatural from Jesus' person, the more
Scripture itself resists.
Even some of the more thoughtful and honest scholars have had to admit: the doctrine of Christ's divinity is not something added later—it is planted like a seed throughout Scripture and blossoms in the church's confession. This recognition,
when taken seriously, undoes the argument that Christ's deity is a product of later philosophical speculation.
Christ's Deity: The Heart of the Christian Faith The church's confession that Jesus Christ is truly God is not a late invention. Both Scripture and the unfolding of Christian doctrine through history confirm it again and again. From the very beginning, believers were certain of one thing: God had come to them in the person of Jesus Christ. That truth was the rock on which the church stood. And whenever it was challenged, the church defended it clearly and courageously.
Unlike other religions—where the founder is a teacher or a prophet— Christ is not just the founder of Christianity. He is
Christianity. He is not merely the one who shows the way to God; He is the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6). Without Him, there is no gospel, no salvation, no communion with God.
Christ is not just a messenger. He is the message.
When the church confesses that Christ is God, it is holding onto the very heart of the Christian faith. To remove Christ's divinity is to unravel the entire gospel. If Jesus is only a man—however great, moral, or inspired—then He cannot be the object of saving faith. He may inspire us, influence us, or move us—but He cannot save us.
This is why the church fathers—men like Irenaeus, Athanasius, and Augustine—are honored and remembered. They faithfully defended Christ's divine nature against those who tried to reduce
Him to something less. Their opponents—like Arius, Pelagius, and Socinus—are remembered not with respect, but as cautionary examples. Because to lose Christ's deity is to lose Christianity itself.
Why "God" Is More Than a Title Some, like the Socinians and modern theologians in the tradition of Ritschl, have argued that Jesus is called "God" only in a symbolic sense—because of His greatness or the importance of His role. They say His deity is a matter of honor, not essence. But this does not align with how Scripture uses the word "God" for Jesus.
The New Testament does not merely say that Jesus acts like God or represents God. It says:
He was with God and was God from the beginning (John 1:1).
He made all things (Col. 1:16).
He is the image of the invisible God (Col. 1:15).
He is God over all, blessed forever (Rom. 9:5).
This isn't poetic language. It is the clear testimony of Scripture. And the early church did not treat these statements as metaphors. They confessed that Jesus shares the very essence of God—He is not simply like God; He is God.
Why This Matters It's not enough to say Jesus reflects God's love or embodies God's plan. To be one with God in a spiritual or moral sense is not the same as being one with God in essence. If we call Jesus "God" without believing He is truly divine, we distort both the name and the truth it proclaims.
A value judgment—saying Christ is "worthy" of divine status— means nothing unless it rests on a factual judgment—that He is divine in His very being.
The Christian faith is not built on admiration for a great man. It rests on the worship of the God-man, the eternal Son who became flesh for our salvation. Take away His deity, and you lose the gospel.
Devotional Reflection In the person of Jesus Christ, God did not send just a prophet or a teacher. He came Himself. He did not merely speak to us from heaven—He walked among us. He wept with us, healed us, taught us, and ultimately died and rose again to redeem us.
He is not only the path to God—He is God come to us.
So we echo the church's ancient and enduring confession:
Jesus is Lord. Jesus is God. And in Him, we have life.
The Virgin Birth: A Mystery of Grace and Power God Became Man—Born of a Virgin Scripture teaches that Jesus Christ, the eternal Son of God, became truly human through a supernatural act: He was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. This is not a minor detail—it is central to who Jesus is and to the gospel itself.
From the earliest days of the church, this truth has been challenged.
Ancient Jewish critics, early heretics like the Ebionites and Cerinthus, Enlightenment skeptics, and modern theologians have all rejected the virgin birth. Some have claimed it was added later to the story of Jesus. Others, pointing to alternate manuscript traditions or ancient translations, have tried to show that the early church didn't originally believe it.
Yet none of these claims stand up to close examination.
The Testimony of Scripture Is Clear The Gospels of Matthew and Luke both clearly affirm that Jesus was born of a virgin, through the power of the Holy Spirit. Even the earliest Christian writings outside the Bible—such as the Apostles'
Creed and the letters of Ignatius of Antioch—include this truth.
These testimonies come from a time when the memory of Jesus' mother and family was still fresh in the church. It's likely that Mary and Joseph themselves shared this truth only later, after the
resurrection, when the full identity of Jesus was revealed and confessed.
While the doctrine doesn't appear in every book of the New Testament, it was never denied by the apostles or early believers.
Instead, it was received as part of the faith once for all delivered to the saints (Jude 3).
Why the Virgin Birth Matters The virgin birth isn't just a miraculous story—it's the foundation for understanding who Jesus is:
He is the Son of David through Joseph's legal line (Matt. 1:1; Luke 2:4).
He is the Holy One—completely without sin (Luke 1:35; Heb.
7:26; 1 Pet. 2:22).
He is the eternal Son of God, who existed before all things (John 1:1; Phil. 2:6).
And He took on a real human nature, without the corruption of sin, in the womb of a virgin (Gal. 4:4).
In this way, He became like us in every respect—except sin—so He could be both our perfect representative and our spotless sacrifice.
The Role of the Holy Spirit
The Holy Spirit played a unique and powerful role in Jesus' conception. Scripture says that the Spirit "came upon" Mary and "overshadowed" her (Luke 1:35). This is not about God mixing divine substance with human nature, but a creative and sanctifying act of the Spirit—bringing about life in Mary's womb without a human father.
From that first moment, the Holy Spirit was at work in Jesus:
Conceiving His human nature.
Sanctifying it—preserving Him from sin.
Filling Him throughout His life and ministry (Luke 4:1, 18).
Empowering Him to suffer, die, rise again, and ascend in glory (Rom. 1:4; Heb. 9:14).
And after His resurrection, the Spirit is the One through whom Christ now gives life to His people (1 Cor. 15:45).
In short, Jesus was born by the Spirit, lived in the Spirit, and now reigns through the Spirit. His whole life was shaped by divine power for our salvation.
Born of a Woman, Yet Without Sin The virgin birth was necessary to ensure that Jesus, though truly human, would not be stained by original sin. Since He was not conceived through a human father, He did not share in Adam's guilt.
He came into the world not as one under the covenant of works, but as the head of a new humanity—the Second Adam,
chosen by the Father to bring redemption (Rom. 5:12–19; 1 Cor.
15:45).
He did not descend from Adam as we do. Instead, He came from above, from the Father, entering our world as a man—a real man— but without sin. This is what makes His life, death, and resurrection truly redemptive.
What About Mary?
The church throughout history has honored Mary as the one chosen by God to bear His Son. She is "blessed among women"
(Luke 1:28). However, Scripture never teaches that she remained a virgin after Jesus was born, or that she was free from sin. These ideas, which arose later in church history, have no foundation in Scripture and are not essential to Christian faith.
Some believe that Jesus' "brothers" were actually cousins or children from a previous marriage of Joseph. Others, like Helvidius, held that Mary and Joseph had other children after Jesus. The Bible does not speak with final clarity on this question, and it is not central to the gospel. But on the virgin birth of Christ, Scripture is clear, consistent, and firm.
The Wonder of the Virgin Birth In the end, the virgin birth is not just a point of doctrine. It is a glorious testimony to the grace and power of God. It shows us that salvation is entirely God's work—not from human effort, not by flesh and blood, but by His Spirit.
"The Holy One to be born will be called the Son of God." – Luke 1:35
This miracle reminds us that nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1:37). And in the humble birth of Jesus—true God and true man—we see the love of God made flesh, entering into our world to save sinners.
Let us, then, hold fast to this truth with joy and reverence. The virgin birth is not optional. It is part of the glory of the gospel—God became man, for us and for our salvation.
Christ's True Humanity The eternal Son of God, through the power of the Holy Spirit and the virgin birth, truly became human. He did not simply appear to be human—He was and is fully human, just as much as He is fully
God.
False Teachings About Christ's Humanity Throughout church history, many have denied the true humanity of Christ:
Some said Jesus only seemed human, like a ghost or illusion.
Others claimed that Jesus brought a body from heaven and merely passed through Mary without really sharing in her humanity.
Still others believed that the divine Christ only temporarily joined the man Jesus, then left Him before the crucifixion.
These views may sound bizarre, but they come from a deep misunderstanding of the relationship between God and creation—specifically, the idea that the physical world is too sinful or weak for God to truly enter.
Even today, versions of these errors persist when people separate the "ideal Christ" (God) from the historical Jesus (man).
But this split denies the very heart of the gospel: that God became man and lived, suffered, and died in our place.
What Scripture Teaches The Bible clearly teaches that Jesus was truly and fully human:
He was born of a woman (Gal. 4:4), the descendant of David and Abraham (Matt. 1:1).
He shared in flesh and blood (Heb. 2:14).
He had a real body (Matt. 26:26; Luke 24:39), a soul (Matt.
26:38), a spirit (Luke 23:46), and a human will (John 6:38).
He experienced hunger, thirst, grief, pain, and even death (Matt. 4:2; John 19:28; Luke 19:41).
He grew up as a child (Luke 2:52), learned obedience through suffering (Heb. 5:8), and was like us in every way—except for sin
(Heb. 4:15).
Why This Matters Some early heresies taught that Christ only had a body, but not a human soul or mind. But Scripture tells us otherwise. Christ had a full human nature—body, mind, soul, and spirit. This is essential for our salvation.
"What is not assumed cannot be healed."
— Ancient Christian saying If Jesus didn't take on all of our humanity, He couldn't fully redeem it. But because He did, there is no part of us left untouched by His saving grace. The whole Christ came to save the whole person.
Against Dualism: God Is Not Afraid of Flesh Behind all these false teachings is a kind of dualism—a belief that spirit is good and matter is bad. If that's true, then God couldn't truly become human. But the Bible teaches that God is the Creator of both spirit and body, of heaven and earth. He called His creation
"very good" (Gen. 1:31), and in Christ He entered into it to redeem it.
Some modern philosophies reject the idea that one individual—like Jesus—could be fully divine and fully human. Instead, they claim that "humanity as a whole" is divine, or that Jesus is only a symbol of divine truth. But these ideas strip the gospel of its power. They cannot explain how a real, personal God could save real, sinful people.
Scripture is clear: there is one mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus (1 Tim. 2:5). He is not part God and part man, nor God disguised as man, nor a symbol of divine truth. He is God made man, truly and fully both.
The Glory of the Incarnation This union of God and man in the person of Jesus Christ is not theoretical—it is the beating heart of the Christian faith. If Christ were not truly human, He could not stand in our place, obey in our place, or suffer in our place. If He were not truly God, His work would have no eternal worth.
But because He is both, we can rejoice:
God has come to us—not just as an idea, but as a person.
Christ has shared in our weakness—so He can be our merciful High Priest.
His humanity means our humanity is not hopeless.
Redemption is real, because God has taken it on Himself.
If Christ had not assumed every part of our human nature, there would be parts of us left uncleansed and unredeemed. But He did. Therefore, nothing in our humanity is beyond His reach.
"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us." – John 1:14
Divine and Human United in One Person: Jesus Christ At the heart of our faith is this glorious mystery: God and man are united in the person of Jesus Christ. While the Bible doesn't use the later theological language of "two natures," it plainly teaches the same truth. All throughout Scripture, Jesus is described as both truly God and truly man—not partly, not symbolically, but fully and personally.
What Scripture Declares "The Word became flesh" (John 1:14) "God sent His Son, born of a woman" (Gal. 4:4)
"Though He was in the form of God, He emptied Himself... taking the form of a servant" (Phil. 2:6–7)
"From the Israelites... comes the Messiah, who is God over all, forever praised" (Rom. 9:5) Jesus walked the dusty roads of Galilee and prayed with human breath, but He never ceased to be God. He is both the eternal
Son in the bosom of the Father (John 1:18) and the infant laid in a manger. He is the Lord of glory who wept, hungered, and bled.
The same "I" who stilled the storm is the one who was nailed to the cross. Two natures—divine and human—united in one
person, without mixing or confusion, without separation or division.
Modern Doubts and Distortions In more recent times, many have tried to reinterpret Jesus:
Some say He wasn't truly God, just a man filled with divine insight.
Others say He was divine only in the sense of being especially moral or enlightened.
Still others try to divide Jesus into "two states" or "two phases"— one before the resurrection, one after—rather than confessing one eternal Person.
But all of these views fall short of the biblical witness. They reduce Christ to an idea or a symbol, stripping away the wonder of the Incarnation and the power of His redemption. Scripture will not allow this. It speaks of Jesus as the eternal Son, already God before He came, and still God as He walked among us.
If Jesus were only a man, He could not save us.
If He were only God, He could not suffer for us.
Why the Two Natures Matter The early church wrestled with serious errors that either divided
Christ into two persons or confused His natures into a blend. Against these errors, the church, guided by Scripture, came
to confess the truth: Jesus is one person with two natures— fully God and fully man.
Nestorianism split Christ into two persons: one divine, one human.
Eutychianism (Monophysitism) confused the two natures into one mixed nature.
Modern "kenosis" theories say the Son gave up His divine attributes to become man—yet this would make Him less than
God.
But the true biblical doctrine, as upheld by the Council of Chalcedon, says Christ's natures are:
United without division – He is one person, not two.
United without confusion – His divinity and humanity are distinct, not blended.
United without change – He remained fully God even in the flesh.
United without separation – The two natures are never apart or independent.
The Beauty of the True God-Man Jesus is not a third kind of being, a mixture of God and man. He is fully God and fully man—a true mediator, able to stand between heaven and earth, to reconcile sinners to God.
As God, He brings the infinite value to His sacrifice.
As man, He stands in our place, obedient where we failed, suffering where we deserved wrath.
If His divinity is removed or His humanity denied, the gospel collapses. Only this God-man can make peace between God and sinners.
"There is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus." – 1 Timothy 2:5
In summary: Jesus Christ is not part God and part man. He is one glorious person who is both God and man. His divine nature did not overpower His humanity, nor did His humanity dilute His deity. The fullness of God dwells in Him bodily. And in Him, heaven and earth are brought together, making Him the only hope for fallen sinners.
"Nature" and "Person" in the Incarnation of Christ To remain faithful to Scripture and the Christian faith, we must hold firmly to the truth that Jesus Christ is one person with two natures—fully God and fully man. This doctrine, though full of mystery, is the most faithful way to honor everything the Bible says about Christ and to safeguard His role as the only Mediator between God and sinners.
While we may struggle to describe this reality perfectly, no other explanation does justice to the fullness of Scripture or preserves the glory of Christ like the doctrine of the two natures in one person.
Why the Incarnation Matters So Deeply The incarnation—God the Son taking on a human nature—isn't just a one-time miracle, disconnected from everything else. It is at the heart of God's plan from the beginning. The whole story of Scripture
—creation, revelation, and redemption—flows toward this moment and from it.
God made humans in His image for fellowship with Himself.
This is not just an ethical relationship, but a deeply personal, spiritual, and even mystical union—one in which God transforms us to share in His likeness (2 Pet. 1:4; Gal. 2:20). The incarnation is the foundation for that union. If God cannot truly unite with human nature, then neither can He truly unite with us in fellowship and salvation.
But because of sin, that union had to be restored—and it had to be done through Christ, not just as an example, but as our Head and Representative, the second Adam. Christ didn't just unite with one person; He took on a human nature that represents the whole of humanity. He became the beginning of a new humanity, not just another individual among many.
The Nature of the Union Christ's incarnation is different from the way God dwells in believers.
In us, God lives by His Spirit in fellowship. But in Christ, something greater happened: the divine Son personally united with human nature in a way that is real, unbreakable, and unique.
It's not a partnership or friendship (a moral union), Not a blend of divine and human (a confused nature),
But a personal union: one divine Person, the Son, took on a complete human nature without becoming two persons.
In this union, the Son of God did not become a new person. He remained who He was—eternally divine—but now also truly human.
From that moment forward, He exists both in the form of God and in the form of a man (Phil. 2:6–7).
Why an Impersonal Human Nature?
To avoid misunderstanding, we must say that Christ assumed a real but impersonal human nature. That is, His human nature didn't exist as a separate person. If it had, Christ would simply be a godly man—not God become man. But Christ is not two persons (divine
and human) working together; He is one person, God the Son, who fully shares our humanity.
This is essential for our salvation. If Christ were just another human, He could only represent Himself. But as the eternal Son who took on our human nature, He stands in our place, representing all who belong to Him. He is not an individual among many, but the Head of a new humanity, the true Mediator between God and all people.
This human nature is not a vague idea or abstract form. It's real and individual—Jesus lived, walked, wept, and died. But His human nature never existed apart from the Son of God. It was specially prepared by the Holy Spirit so that it could be united to the divine
Person of the Son and serve as the means by which God would bring salvation to people of every race, age, and nation.
Nature and Person in the Incarnation of Christ One of the most important and yet most misunderstood truths in Christian theology is the distinction between nature and person.
Many errors in the doctrines of both the Trinity and Christ arise from confusion here.
Clarifying the Terms In the Trinity, there is one nature (divine) and three persons (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit).
In Christ, there is one person (the Son of God) and two natures (divine and human).
This may seem abstract, but it is vital to our faith. "Nature" refers to what something is—its essence. "Person" refers to who someone is— a self-conscious, rational being.
The divine nature is eternal, infinite, and unchangeable.
The human nature is finite, created, and capable of suffering.
Yet in Christ, both natures are united in one Person: the eternal Son of God.
This means the Son did not become a person by taking on human nature. He already was a person—fully divine, from all eternity. But at the incarnation, He took on a complete human nature—body and soul—without becoming a second person. He did not merge into
humanity, nor did He create a new person. He remained who He was and added to Himself a true human nature.
"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us…" (John 1:14) The Human Nature of Christ The humanity of Christ was real and complete, but it never existed independently. From the very first moment of conception in Mary's womb, it was united to the divine Son. That human nature never had its own separate self or personality apart from the Son of God. But this doesn't make it incomplete or defective. In fact, it was more than complete, because it was taken up and perfected by being joined to the Son Himself.
This means that everything Jesus did in His human life—His thinking, willing, speaking, suffering, and dying—was done by the divine person of the Son through His human nature. The human nature wasn't a separate partner; it was the instrument through which the Son fulfilled His saving mission.
This is why Scripture speaks of Christ in such unified ways. Whether it speaks of His divine power or His human weakness, it is always referring to the same person—the eternal Son made flesh.
"He who was in the form of God… took the form of a servant."
(Philippians 2:6–7) Theologians have sometimes said the human nature was like a tent, a garment, or an instrument that the Son took on to live among us. That doesn't diminish its reality. Just as believers offer their bodies and souls to God as instruments of righteousness, Christ's
human nature was wholly and perfectly devoted to His divine calling.
But in His case, the union was absolute and without comparison.
A Sacred Mystery There is no true parallel to this mystery. All analogies fall short. The union of God and man in Christ is utterly unique. But it is not a contradiction or an illusion. It is the mystery of godliness (1
Timothy 3:16)—the wonder of God coming to us in our flesh to redeem us.
The church does not seek to explain this mystery away, but to worship before it. Angels long to look into it. Believers bow in reverence before it. The eternal Son of God took on our human nature—not for His own sake, but for ours—so that He could be our
Redeemer, our Brother, and our Savior.
Devotional Reflection This truth invites both humility and adoration. In Christ, we see not just a great teacher or a noble example, but God with us—fully divine, fully human, perfectly united in one glorious person. Every time He wept, touched the sick, spoke the truth, endured pain, or offered up His life—it was God the Son acting through a human heart, a human voice, a human body.
This is the very heart of our salvation. No one else could bridge the gap between God and man. Only Jesus Christ—true God and true man—could do that. And He did it not only for humanity in general, but for each of us who believe.
"For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus."
— 1 Timothy 2:5
Communication of Properties:
Christ's Two Natures and One Person Some people object to the doctrine that Christ has both a divine and a human nature, saying it leaves no room for his real humanity or for a true human development. There is some truth to this concern— especially when looking at how Catholic and Lutheran theology have handled the issue. But Scripture, and particularly Reformed theology, offers a better way forward.
Three Results of the Union In the early church, theologians identified three key results from the union of Christ's divine and human natures:
1. The Communication of Properties: Everything that belongs to either nature (divine or human) is true of the one person of Christ. So we can rightly say, "God suffered and died"
(because it was the divine Son who took on flesh and died), and also that "Jesus came from heaven" (because he is the eternal
Son).
2. The Unified Work of Christ: Every act of Christ—whether healing, teaching, dying, or rising—is the work of one person using both natures. His divine and human actions are never separated, but always work together.
3. The Gifts of the Spirit: From the very beginning of his human life, Jesus was filled with the Holy Spirit and received every spiritual gift needed to fulfill his mission.
How Others Went Wrong Lutheran theologians taught that Christ's human nature actually received divine attributes like omnipotence and omnipresence. In this view, Jesus' humanity was so glorified that it had infinite power. But this confuses his humanity with his deity. If Jesus' human nature already had divine powers, why would he need to receive gifts from the Spirit or grow in wisdom?
Roman Catholic theologians, while rejecting the Lutheran view of divine attributes being transferred to Christ's humanity, still taught that Christ's human nature was so full of divine life that it was glorified and perfect from the start—making his human development seem less genuine.
In both views, there's a danger of downplaying Christ's real human experience. It begins to sound like he only seemed human
(a view known as docetism), rather than truly sharing in our weakness and growing in wisdom and obedience.
The Reformed Understanding Reformed theology affirms the true and full humanity of Christ.
While Jesus was filled with the Spirit and never sinned, he still experienced a real human life. He was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born as an infant. He entered a world full of suffering and
temptation. He was not like Adam, who began life in paradise, free from sorrow. Instead, Jesus came "in the likeness of sinful flesh"
(Romans 8:3)—not as a sinner, but in a body subject to pain, weakness, and death.
Though he was the eternal Son of God, he took on a humanity like ours in every way, except sin (Hebrews 4:15). He grew in wisdom and stature (Luke 2:52), learned obedience through suffering (Hebrews
5:8), and was made like us so he could truly represent and redeem us.
This means his human development was real, not just a disguise.
The divine nature did not overwhelm or erase his humanity. Instead, his human nature was upheld and empowered by the Spirit, shaped by suffering, and glorified through resurrection.
"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses…" — Hebrews 4:15
Why This Matters The Reformed doctrine keeps Christ's full divinity and full humanity in proper balance. We need a Savior who is both truly God and truly man:
If he were not truly human, he could not suffer, obey, or die in our place.
If he were not truly divine, his sacrifice would have no infinite worth.
By keeping the two natures distinct yet united in one person, we preserve both the truth of the gospel and the comfort of
knowing Jesus understands us. He is not a distant deity or a mere example—he is our divine-human Redeemer.
"Great indeed, we confess, is the mystery of godliness: He was manifested in the flesh…" — 1 Timothy 3:16
The Humanity of Christ: Humility, Growth, and Glory A True Human Life Because the Son of God took on a real human nature, Reformed theology has been especially faithful in holding together two vital truths: Jesus is fully God and truly man. This balance protects both the honor of Christ and the comfort of believers.
Some Christians have debated whether the incarnation itself—God becoming human—was already a humiliation. After all, the distance between the Creator and his creatures is infinite. Could taking on our flesh ever be anything but humbling?
Yet the best answer is this: the incarnation was an act of divine kindness and condescension, not necessarily humiliation by itself. It became an act of humiliation because Jesus took on not just human nature in general, but a weak and suffering form of humanity. This is exactly what Scripture teaches: "He was despised and rejected… a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief" (Isa.
53:3; cf. John 1:14; Phil. 2:7–8).
Not Fallen, Yet Vulnerable Christ's human nature was not sinful, but it was subject to pain, hunger, weariness, and even death. These aren't necessarily sinful traits—they existed even in Adam before the fall. But while Adam
was placed in paradise, Jesus was born into a world of sin and sorrow.
Yet it's crucial to understand: Jesus did not take on every weakness that results from personal sin—like disease caused by poor health or moral failure. Instead, he took on the general effects of living in a fallen world. And unlike Adam, Jesus entered deeply into our emotional life, experiencing grief, compassion, righteous anger, and profound sorrow.
"He had to be made like his brothers in every respect…" — Hebrews 2:17
Did Jesus Really Grow in Knowledge?
Some in church history—especially in Catholic and Lutheran traditions—struggled to believe Jesus could truly grow in wisdom.
They believed he was perfectly knowledgeable from the start because he was united with God.
But Scripture speaks plainly:
"Jesus increased in wisdom and stature…" (Luke 2:52) He asked questions (Mark 5:30), looked for figs (Mark 11:13), and even said "concerning that day and hour no one knows… not even the Son" (Mark 13:32).
Jesus had real human knowledge, which developed over time. He learned, grew, and matured, even though he never ceased to be the eternal Son. This shows not ignorance or weakness, but a humble willingness to fully identify with us.
At the same time, he walked by faith and hope, just as we are called to. For him, faith wasn't trust in mercy as it is for sinners, but trust in the Father's promises. This faith held firm through every trial
—even the agony of the cross (Matt. 27:46). He endured all things for the joy set before him (Heb. 12:2).
"He learned obedience through what he suffered." — Hebrews 5:8
One Person, Two Natures Jesus was not divided between a human person and a divine one. He was—and is—one person with two natures: fully God, fully man.
These two natures remained distinct, but always acted together. His divine nature did not overpower his humanity, nor did his humanity cloud his divinity.
The person who said "I thirst" is the same person who raised the dead. Every act was the act of one Christ, both God and man.
Did Jesus Ever Make Mistakes?
In today's world, some claim that Jesus could have been mistaken in his teachings—about spiritual matters, prophecy, or the Old
Testament. But this directly contradicts what Jesus said about himself:
"My teaching is not mine, but his who sent me." (John 7:16) Jesus didn't come to give scientific lectures or worldly advice. He came to reveal the Father. He didn't need to know everything humans know, but he had to know God truly and perfectly in
order to speak for him. To say Jesus taught error in this area is to undermine not just his human nature, but his role as our perfect
Prophet.
Why This Matters for You Jesus did not simply appear to be human—he truly lived a human life. He grew, suffered, believed, obeyed, and died. But he also did this as the eternal Son of God, who took on flesh for our sake.
In Christ, God came near. He did not save us from a distance. He entered into our weakness so he could carry our sin. Because he truly lived as one of us, he can truly stand in our place. And because he is
God, his life and death are sufficient for all who trust in him.
"For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus…" — 1 Timothy 2:5
The Moral Strength and Power of Christ Could Jesus Have Sinned?
Some thinkers throughout history—like Nestorius and others—have suggested that Jesus grew morally perfect through inner struggle.
They argued that Christ, like any other human, started with the possibility of sin but resisted temptation and, through obedience, made himself worthy of union with God. According to them, Jesus wasn't inherently holy but became holy through effort.
But this view fails to consider a critical truth: Jesus is God the Son. He did not need to earn perfection. His sinlessness was not merely historical or proven by his actions—it was essential to who he is. The eternal Word who became flesh (John 1:1,14) could not sin.
To say otherwise would mean either God himself could sin—a blasphemous thought—or that the union between Christ's divine and human natures could be broken, which Scripture does not allow.
That being said, we must still acknowledge a real distinction between God's holiness and Christ's holiness as a man. Jesus, in his human nature, wasn't good by necessity the way God is. Instead, his goodness was a gift—a perfect holiness infused from the moment of conception by the Holy Spirit. Yet this holiness still had to be tested, shown, and proven in real human life.
"Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered." — Hebrews 5:8
Christ's temptations were not imaginary. Though no sinful desire came from within, Jesus still faced real trials—from Satan, from hostile enemies, and even from well-meaning but misguided friends
(Matt. 4:1–11; 16:23). He had a truly human nature that recoiled from pain and death. In every struggle, he chose faithfulness—not out of compulsion, but from a heart that loved and obeyed God perfectly.
His sinlessness wasn't because he couldn't sin like a robot—but because his holiness was so deep, so real, and so full, that he would not sin. His inability to sin was not mechanical; it was moral— flowing from his perfect love for the Father.
Christ's Power as the God-Man Though Jesus is eternally God and possesses all divine power, his human nature was genuinely limited. He grew tired, became hungry, and even needed strength from an angel in the Garden of Gethsemane (Luke 22:43). This shows that his divine power didn't cancel his true humanity.
Throughout church history, some groups have wrongly blended the two natures of Christ, erasing the distinction between divine and human. But both Scripture and faithful theology insist that Christ's divine and human natures remain distinct, even as they are perfectly united in one person.
This means that while Christ performed divine acts—like forgiving sins and raising the dead—he did so as the God-man, not only as God. The power of Christ's miracles came from the unity of both natures. His body was real, and his soul was human, but his person was the eternal Son.
"The Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins." — Matthew 9:6
"All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me." — Matthew 28:18
Before his resurrection, Jesus' human nature was still marked by weakness. He depended on the Father, was affected by people's faith
(Matt. 13:58), and even wept and groaned in sorrow. But after his resurrection, Jesus entered a new state. He was still human, but now glorified, sharing in the full power and majesty of God in a way that was now visible and triumphant.
Why It Matters Jesus didn't merely appear human—he truly became one of us. But unlike us, he remained sinless. His obedience wasn't automatic; it was personal, deep, and tested. And because he is both God and man, his obedience is strong enough to save.
This is why the gospel gives such comfort: our Savior not only sympathizes with our weaknesses (Heb. 4:15), but he never failed.
He knows what it is to struggle, yet he never sinned. He walked the path of obedience perfectly, and now, risen and exalted, he reigns in glory—as our brother and Lord.
"For as by the one man's disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man's obedience the many will be made righteous." — Romans 5:19
Why We Worship Christ Is Jesus Worthy of Worship?
The way we honor Jesus Christ reflects what we truly believe about him. If someone denies that Jesus is God—as Arius did—or tries to separate his divine nature from his human one—as Nestorius did— then any reason for truly worshiping Jesus disappears. If Jesus were merely human, as Socinus claimed, then however special or exalted he might be, he would not deserve our worship in the way only God does.
Still, many who reject Christ's full deity have tried to justify some kind of worship. For example:
Nestorius said we can honor the human Jesus for faithfully defending God's honor.
Socinus claimed that Jesus, although not God, could be venerated because God gave him authority.
The Remonstrants (Arminians) said Christ deserved honor as our Mediator, but not the full worship owed to God alone.
And Ritschl tried to argue that worshiping Christ was just another way of worshiping God, because Christ reveals God.
But these views all fall short. They treat Jesus as if he were a mere instrument or a religious example—not as God in the flesh. When people reduce Jesus to a symbol, they might still talk about reverence or honor, but they remove the foundation for true adoration. They
end up sliding into Unitarianism, where Jesus is admired but not worshiped.
What About Worshiping Christ's Human Nature?
Some traditions go further and say we can worship Jesus' human nature itself—his body, or even parts of it, like his heart—because of its union with the divine Son. This idea, developed in parts of Roman Catholic and Lutheran theology, says that the human nature of Christ shares in divine honor because it is united to the eternal
Son.
This led some to treat Jesus' humanity—his flesh, heart, or even physical body parts—as worthy of divine worship. They reasoned: since the person of Christ is God, and that person includes human nature, then that human nature must also be worthy of worship. But this approach risks making the creature equal to the Creator and ends up blurring the line between honoring Christ and glorifying his created humanity itself.
What Did the Reformed Say?
The Reformed tradition has consistently taught that Christ is worthy of full worship, not merely because he is our Mediator, but because he is God. As the eternal Son—equal with the Father and the Holy Spirit—he is the object of faith, hope, love, and praise.
Scripture clearly teaches that we may:
Trust in Christ (John 14:1)
Call on his name (Acts 9:13; Rom. 10:12–13) Worship him as Lord (Phil. 2:9–11; Heb. 1:6; Rev. 5:12)
However, the Bible also insists that only God is to be worshiped (Matt. 4:10). This means we must be careful not to base our worship of Christ on anything less than his full deity. If we say Jesus is worthy of worship because he is Mediator, we risk shifting the foundation of worship from who he is (God) to what he does (mediating). That opens the door to worshiping a creature, which Scripture forbids.
Jesus is not God because he is Mediator; he is Mediator because he is God. His role in salvation flows from his divine identity. We honor Christ for his work—but we worship him because he is
Lord.
Devotional Takeaway When we bow before Christ, we are not merely thanking a great teacher or honoring a heroic example. We are falling at the feet of the living God—the One who made us, redeemed us, and now reigns over all.
We worship Christ not just because he saved us, but because in him we see the glory of God. His humanity was real and true, but it is his divine person—the eternal Son, full of grace and truth—that makes him worthy of our deepest adoration.
"Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!" —
Revelation 5:12