For centuries the church has talked—and argued—about the character of Jesus. After all, we say that he was the fullest expression of what God is like. And yet we also say that he was human in every way, just like us.
Just like God? Just like us? Which is it?
Here’s Paul’s take on it, probably quoting an early Christian hymn, as you can see from the poetic motion of the text:
Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross. From Philippians 2
The essence of this faith is that the divine took on the human in order to gain us, and to teach us how to live.
The self-limiting of Jesus.
It’s seen throughout the gospels, isn’t it? One minute, we see Jesus performing great miracles. The next, we see him almost fumbling with his humanity, the way the rest of us do. Changing his mind about people, getting worn out, stressed by so much to do. Tired of those disciples he had to hang with all the time.
The holy takes on the ordinary. Jesus was often limited by the ordinary, choosing limitation over strength and power.
It is this ordinariness that is at the same time scandalous and appealing. The very Son of God limited by the things that limit all the rest of us: time and space, living and dying, illness and health, the actions and expectations of others, good and bad relationships. Every day Jesus had to figure out how to get food, where they were going to sleep. Someone was in charge of the money. They had to figure out which road they were going to take to the next town and sometimes they were running late.
God chose not just to view the messiness that we call humanity from some other plane, but to enter this messiness and to be just as at home in it as not.
The spiritual realm and the physical are so intertwined that they cannot be separated, not even in Christ. Neither is holier than the other. Each is made holier by the other.
Wouldn’t it be something if we could see the intertwining of spirit and physicality today? We do, but in an even messier way than Jesus lived it: it is called the Church.
The church is the body of Christ. We worry sometimes that we are not spiritual enough. And we’re probably right. But it’s also likely that we are not mundane enough. Either without the other is not the body of Christ. The mundane must be infused with the spiritual, and the spiritual with the mundane.
This gets messy, and we make lots of mistakes trying to get it right. We’re limited by our location, our resources, our personalities.
Jesus, too, chose to be limited.
That puts us in good company.
© Melissa Bane Sevier, 2011
Contemplative Viewfinder 
You got me thinking (again) about about the nature of Jesus (and of Christ, “who” is bigger than Jesus) and our NATURE (am in fact working on a book about it)–was Jesus like Iron Man, or Superman? The former puts on a special suit to manifest strength and power (like we are to “put on Christ,” a verse that always comes to mind when I read Phil. 2), the latter LOOKS human and acts human and dresses human but is an alien from another world with powers far beyond humanity, powers he is born with.
Did Jesus choose to be limited? Was he like Superman and had to run into a phone both now and then to take off his human clothes to feed 5,000 or heal a sick slave or raise a dead child? Or was he like Iron Man, who did the opposite (choosing to be God-like) but to the same same general effect. I know this is a somewhat silly analogy, but its timely, and one our Marvel-ing culture would maybe grasp! lol.
But to push on, is he neither?
Maybe he JUST (exactly) like us…and us exactly like him?…despite centuries of creeds and dogmas and hagiography elevating Jesus of Nazareth (a son of man) to Achilles-like demigod status. Are we any LESS an incarnation of the Holy than Jesus…who was fully AWAKENED to his Imago Dei and his innate spiritual power, and so fully CLAIMED it and lived it to its greatest potential? All of which required incredible focus and self-denial, unceasing communion with and unflinching TRUST in God, his (and our) Source.
So he serves as our model, our archetype. He is one who didn’t “die for our sins,” (which demeans God’s grace imho) but courageously offered himself to show us that death is the only way to escape “sin” (separation from our Source)–to die, a hundred times, over and over (at least in my case!) to our illusory, incomplete, false, worldly-acclaimed egocentric selves.
God is ALWAYS entered into our messiness, so to speak, because (as Paul says) in God we live and move and have our being; we can never NOT be with God, are never apart from God…but we can surely be blind to it or reject it or ignore it–or worship false orange-tinted gods—or like the one son, say “Yes” but not really mean it. So we have to constantly (daily, hourly, moment to moment sometimes!) work to “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”
Richard of Chichester was right…Day by day dear Lord, three things I pray…
BLESSINGS…Press On!
By: Barry Bordenkircher on September 23, 2020
at 4:33 pm