A. Biblical Affirmations

Each of the Gospels opens in a way that emphasizes the unique nature of Jesus Christ. Matthew begins with a genealogy that situates him in the story of Israel, then immediately shows in narrative that from his conception he was also divine (Matt. 1–2, esp. 1:1, 1:23). Mark, ever brief, introduces the Messiah with the astounding words, “Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (Mark 1:1).² Luke inverts Matthew’s order: miraculous birth first, genealogy second. He situations Jesus not only in Israel’s story but in humanity’s, tracing his lineage to Adam (Luke 1:26–28, 2:8–38, 3:23–38). John reaches out to Greek philosophy and turns it on its head, proclaiming the coming of the uncreated logos into creation (John 1:1–18). The sum effect of the gospel-tellers is to emphasize that in Jesus Christ, something profoundly unique had happened.

Perhaps nowhere are the importance and uniqueness of the Incarnation more evident than in the Epistle to the Hebrews. The anonymous letter emphasizes from its first words the uniqueness of Jesus’ incarnation and ministry (Heb. 1:1–2). It argues that the Incarnation was essential to his roles as priest (2:17–18, 4:15, 5:5–10, 7:26–8:2), destroyer of death (2:14–15), and propitiatory sacrifice (2:9, 7:27, 9:11–28, 10:12–14, 10:19–22). It is not only that Jesus died to save people from their sins, but that he became human and lived to that end and more besides—a consistent theme throughout the New Testament. Thus, Zechariah’s prophecy (Luke 1:76–79) includes salvation from sin, but also light coming into the world, death’s power coming to an end, and peace reigning in the cosmos. Likewise, John couples the Incarnation to the doctrine of adoption (John 1:12). Paul exults in the Incarnation as the grounds of the reconciliation of all things, humanity included (Col 1:19–20). Moreover, he explicitly couples the Messiah’s full humanity to humans being filled in him in turn (Col. 2:9–10)—a theme Peter picks up as well, noting that the saints actually become “partakers of the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4).

In short, the New Testament affirms that the Incarnation itself was an essential element in the salvation of humanity—not merely as a prerequisite for other parts of Christ’s work. The Incarnation is the means by which human nature is brought once again into fellowship with the Godhead. Christ is the eschatological firstfruits of this restoration. As he is, so will all the saints be in glory: restored to unbroken fellowship between humanity and humanity’s Creator.³

B. The Theology of the Church

The importance of the Incarnation has been affirmed by the church throughout her history. The Church Fathers fleshed out the orthodox doctrine of the Incarnation over the first four centuries of the history of the church, with various controversies erupting every century.⁴ This work culminated in the lasting affirmations and denials of the Chalcedonian formula.⁵ In fact, nearly every theological controversy in the early church was a Christological controversy, and every such controversy hinged on issues pertaining to the nature of the Incarnation. The Fathers recognized that the details of God’s becoming man were essentials of the faith. The hope of human salvation would be lost entirely if Jesus were not a single person in whom “all the fullness of deity dwells bodily” (Col. 2:9) and who “likewise partook of [flesh and blood]” (Heb. 2:14).⁶

Incarnational thoelogizing did not end in the patristic period; it has remained foundational for further reflection on the natures of God and humanity. Indeed, patristic theology has been influential on nearly every major orthodox theologian since the Reformation—whether directly or mediated by the Reformers. Athanasius’ Christology, with its emphasis on the transformational effect of the Incarnation itself on humanity’s state,⁷ has proven particularly influential. If advocates of “incarnational” theologies have sometimes pressed this recovery in unhelpful directions (see below), they have also provided a helpful reminder of what God’s becoming man has already accomplished: the first step of the eschatological transformation of humanity. “The crucified Christ stands in solidarity with humanity, not merely as ane xample of confrontation with the world to be imitated by us but as the reality of new humanity in which we may and must participate.”⁸ Jesus’ humanity is an essential ingredient in human salvation and in the sanctified life of the believer in the present—the Spirit mediating Christ’s humanity to the believer’s—as well as of a glorified reality in the future.

A. Absence

The church may first of all fail with regard to its theology of the Incarnation by losing it, whether by doctrinal negation or by simple unobservance. The threat of outright denial of the doctrine has been dangerously common in church history. As noted above, many of the early Christological heresies relted directly to the nature of the Incarnation, and variations on these heresies have continued to arise to the present day. In the Reformation era, for example, the Anabaptist movement included many who affirmed a “heavenly flesh” view in which Jesus was not Mary’s descendant but sent from heaven without human parentage whatsoever—a loss of Christ’s full humanity. More recently, both Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses have affirmed adoptionist views—a loss of Christ’s full deity.

The anti-supernatural bent of many liberal theologies in the last several centuries has similarly resulted in a rejection of the doctrine of the Incarnation. For many liberals theologians, Jesus was representative of the God-consciousness in us all at its best and adopted by God as a special figure in human history accordingly.⁹ Any such outright rejection clearly results in the loss of all that the doctrine entails—not least any hope of real salvation. If Jesus was merely a man who was particularly helpful or holy, he could not redeem other humans. He could at best set others a good example. His death and his resurrection¹⁰ can have symbolic power only. They do not save. They inspire or impress at best, and intimidate with their inimitability at worst.

All such views leave those who embrace them without ultimate salvific hope. As Gregory Nazianzen commented during the Arian controversy, “For that which He has not assumed he has not healed; but that which is united to His Godhead is also saved. If only half Adam fell, then that which Christ assumes and saves may be half also; but if the whole of his nature fell, it must be united to the whole nature of Him that was begotten, and so be saved as a whole.”¹¹

Though no conservative scholars would actively deny the importance of the Incarnation, their passive neeglect can be nearly as problematic. Sadly, the doctrine receives receives little attention among evangelicals. The crucicentric bent of the evangelical movement has often led to other aspects of the Son’s work being overlooked, so that the Incarnation, Resurrection, and Ascension of Christ are all often treated as mere prerequisites for or accessories to his atoning death.¹² Even when unintentional, this loss-by-neglect results in real problems in the church’s understanding of God’s work in Christ and humanity. Many of the borderline gnostic tendencies latent in evangelical theology eschatology, and the corresponding spiritualization and de-physicalization of evangelical eschatology, must be laid at least in part at the feet of a deficient theology of the Incarnation. This can only lead to a dimming of future hope—who really wants to be a disembodied spirit somehow strumming a harp forever?—which in turn produces real challenges in the life and faith of believers.

B. “Incarnational Theology”: A Two-Fold Error

The church may also err by misapplying its theology of the Incarnation. It has become increasingly common to speak of “incarnational theology” as a way of describing the Christian mission to the world: Christians ought to “incarnate” Christ to the world as Christ “incarnated” the Godhead to humanity.¹³ There is much to appreciate in this sentiment. It represents an appropriate recognition that humans are God’s image-bearers. It pays heed to the New Testament’s assertion that Christians are representatives of Christ. It takes seriously Paul’s shocking language of “filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions” (Col. 1:24). It rightly points to the synthesis of missionary activity and social activism that represents the best of evangelicalism.¹⁴ Yet for all that, applying the language of incarnation to believers is a serious mistake in two ways.

First, this kind of “incarnational” language is a misapplication of Paul’s “body” metaphor for the church, contra the proponents of “incarnational theology”, and notwithstanding Scripture’s many calls to imitate Christ.¹⁵ Paul uniformly used the language to teach the unity of the people of God—never evangelism. The authors of the New Testament chose other images for proclaiming Christ instead: fishermen (Matt. 4:19), harvest workers (Luke 10:2), servants working in the absence of their master (Matt. 24:45–51), or ambassadors and representatives (2 Cor. 5:20)—to name just a few. At no point, though, does the Bible use the metaphor of the body to describe Christian witness to the world. Nor does it support the idea that ordinary men and women can mediate the presence of God to people. The Incarnation may (and indeed should) prompt evangelism, but this response is not itself “incarnational.” The people of God do not incarnate God the Son, but represent him in other ways. That does not negate the helpful instincts expressed in the incarnational theologizing of the last few years. It simply means that this doctrine can be expressed more accurately and helpfully.

Second, the church loses a great deal when incarnational theology is about anyone other than Jesus. God becoming man was an astounding and singular event. As Lewis commented, “It was the central event in the history of the Earth—the very thing that the whole story has been about.”¹⁶ When theologians speak of “incarnating” Christ, the sheer shock of the event fades. The focus shifts from the Son’s work in humanity to the human response to the Son. The doctrine of the Incarnation above all ought to lead to worship born of reflection not on human endeavors, but on divine intervention to undo human brokenness.