September 26th, 2024
Hello everyone and welcome to this week’s video.
There was an odd system in operation when my children started primary school. Each would be welcomed individually in timed slots. It meant that the extended queue of parents had to witness their tearful predecessors having just left their children on their own for the first time. Part of the emotion was anxiety about whether they would fit in, make friends and settle. Usually that had happened within a few days. Children grew in confidence as they discovered a new group of peers. Even at that age it was remarkable how they were drawn to friends like them, who shared experiences and were from a similar social background. That continues as they go up the educational ladder. Most of us will have memories of that group of friends who supported and sustained us through uncertainty. Some will be friends for a lifetime. As social beings we need people alongside us, who know us, sympathise with us and support us in our struggles.
The writer to the Hebrews says something similar of Jesus. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathise with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are – yet he did not sin.” The next stanza of the Apostles creed takes us deeper into the relationship God has with us. He is the creator, he comes to reveal himself in Jesus, but the creed and Hebrews point to an alongside relationship of support and accompaniment.
In the four hundred metre final of the Barcelona Olympics in 1992, Derek Redmond was the great British hope for a medal. After just a few metres his hamstring went. Despite being in absolute agony he was determined to finish the race, which he did long after all the other competitors. The reception from the crowd as he came down the home straight was extraordinarily moving. This not least because someone emerged from the crowd, put his arm around him and helped him the last few metres across the line. The man was his father. Allegedly, someone asked him why he did it when he knew he wasn’t going to win. He replied, “he was a winner to me.” I still find that story profoundly moving every time I tell it. There is something there that has a deep resonance, not just for many personally, but as a metaphor of the sort of supportive relationship implied by the incarnation. Jesus born of the virgin Mary, as the creed says. Jesus who is able to empathise with our weakness; Jesus who has been tempted in every way as we are.
As with so many aspects of Christian theology the miraculous and the ordinary are held together with both being true at the same time. Just as light is both a wave and a particle; not either or but both and, so Jesus is both fully God and fully human. Not either or, but both and. He was conceived by the Spirit and born of the virgin Mary. He suffered his parentage being called into question at a time when illegitimate birth was a matter of great shame.
These two natures of Jesus: the one who is alongside, loving, human, empathetic, sympathetic and supportive of our growth, is the same Christ who will die for us to bring us back to God. His humanity is vital, because without it he could not be our representative, nor conceivably understand the human condition with its limitations and frailty. His divinity – as testified by the virginal conception, is vital because without that he could not come into the presence of God on our behalf. A solely human Christ could be no more than an inspiring figure; at best a moral guide with extraordinary self-discipline. A solely divine Christ would be unable to bridge the gap between broken humanity and God’s fierce burning holiness. We would be in as much danger as Moses ascending the mountain or Elijah having to hide in the cleft in the rock while the Lord’s glory passed by.
We believe in Jesus Christ his only son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the virgin Mary. God knows us and makes us known to God. The next stanza begins to unpack how that bridge is crossed as we’ll explore next week.
+Richard