A Biblical Look at the Virgin Birth

In both the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicean-Constantinople Creed there is an affirmation of belief in Jesus Christ, the second person of the trinity God incarnate, “who was conceived of the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary” (Apostles Creed) or who “was made incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the virgin Mary and was made man” (Nicene).

However, of the virgin birth, it bears mentioning that one the two other major ecumenically acknowledged creeds of the era (Chalcedon) also mentions the virgin birth but does not credit the Holy Spirit for conception. Then there is the Athanasian Creed focuses on the triune nature of God and as such is not as interested in the virgin birth of Jesus Christ.

Yet, all the same the virgin birth has played a major confessional and theological role in Christian history. As confessed by the Apostles and Nicene Creed, the virgin birth is a historical reality putting the birth firmly in concrete history. Just as Jesus Christ suffered under Pontius Pilate, so too was Jesus born of the Virgin Mary. While the virgin birth clearly stands as a supernatural occurrence, it is still a birth and as such, natural and in and in the realm of history.

But before moving to the theological import of such a confession I wish to look at it from the Biblical Theological perspective by listening to Ben Witherington III.

The Biblical Perspective – From New Testament History - A Narrative Account

First Witherington addresses the charge that the birth narratives from Matthew 1-2 and Luke 1-2 are of a different sort than the other Gospel narratives. That is, they do not come from different sources. Witherington points to the fact that the birth narratives feature a mixture of the mundane and supernatural like the rest of the gospel narratives. Further, he notes that the passion narratives and birth narratives (particularly Matthew) are interlaced with scriptural citations “precisely because these were the portions of the Jesus story that would most need justification and explanation. Early Jews were not looking for a messiah miraculously born a virgin" (emphasis mine, 67).

Second, there are enormous similarities: the betrothed Mary and Joseph, virginal conception, David decent of Joseph, the birth in Bethlehem during Herod’s reign, angelic revelation of Jesus’ name, and Jesus’ upbringing in Nazareth.

Third, there is the issue of Mt. 1:23’s citation of Is. 7:14. The word almah used in Is. 7:14 refers to a young woman of a marriageable age. Although virginity is not technically implied, virginity is implicit. Historically speaking Jews seemed to have believed the prophecy of Is. 7:14 was fulfilled in Hezekiah – the son of Ahaz. For the Jew of the era, to hear “a virgin will conceive and give birth” might mean no more than a women who had previously not had sexual relations did and became pregnant.

Fourth is the charge that the story of Jesus’ birth is a variant on the myths told of the gods of the Greco-Roman world. In those stories the divine being descends to the earth in the guise of a male and mates with a human woman. What Matthew and Luke are suggesting, however, is that Mary’s conception is miraculous in that there was no form of sexual intercourse and no male figure divine or human. Further, the presence of the Holy Spirit is never portrayed as a human figure or assuming human form. It is also noteworthy that no Old Testament character had such a birth nor did any messianic expectation envision such a conception.

This brings us to a fifth point with is more logical than historical. Why would Christians – member of a minority evangelistic group create such a myth? Why open Jesus up to the charge of illegitimacy (see Jn. 8:41; Mk. 6:3)? Further, Christians as early as the second century took the virgin conception as a matter of fact and it is alluded to elsewhere in the New Testament (Rom. 1:3; Gal. 4:4; Phil. 2:7; Jn. 1:13; 6:41-42).

Based upon these five points Witherington believes that it is easier to accept that the Gospel writers were writing history rather than creating theology. In fact, the unexpectedness of the virginal conception accounts for the awkwardness of the writer’s explanation. The messiah being born of a virgin was a surprise even to them and thus had to scramble for justification.

Advent Reflection 2 - The Homelessness of Jesus

“Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”

Under normal circumstances this time of the year would be spent doing things like picking out a Christmas tree, stringing it with lights and ornaments, and decorating the house for Christmas. This year we’ve done no such thing. Instead we’ve been running around town finding boxes, dropping items of at Goodwill, calling utility companies, movers, packing up boxes, and moving to our new house.

As I was driving through town reflecting on all this, I began to think how little this year felt like Christmas. I wished we could have been out finding the perfect tree. I wished we could have been decorating the house. I wish we could have been making cookies. Alas, that was not possible. I could not depend on the things that normally made the season feel like Christmas. If I couldn’t have those things, what did I have? The answer was surprisingly simple:

Jesus.

Advent is time of preparing. Of waiting. Of hoping. But not for presents. Not for holiday cookies. And not even for time with family and friends. No we wait, we prepare, and we hope for the coming of Christ the King. Without the tree, without the decorations, without the lights, what did I have?

Jesus.

If anything or upheaval marking our life has pushed me to a deeper place of preparation. The life and ministry of Jesus was one marked by homelessness: “Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” Jesus of Nazareth, God’s own son was a man on the move. His way was the way of obedience to his father in heaven. This purity of heart made Jesus a man on the move. There was no time or place for the trappings of normalcy.

This sense of homelessness marked Jesus’ birth as well. The popular images of Jesus’ birth suggest Mary in the ninth month of her pregnancy riding a donkey during the midnight hour to a closed-down Bethlehem accompanied only by her soon-to-be husband. With no place to sleep, they the lonely couple migrated to a barn where she gave birth to a son and placed him in a manger. Yet this popular account says too much. It’s entirely plausible that Mary and Joseph had been living in Bethlehem for some time before Jesus was born. And although now Joseph had presently resided to the north in Nazareth, it is entirely plausible that Bethlehem was home to some of Joseph’s kin who might have housed the couple.

What is certain is that Bethlehem was not home. Even at birth Jesus had no hole, he had no nest. Jesus was born on the move and continued to move. Eight days later he was in Jerusalem. Soon after that he was whisked away to Egypt, escaping the ruthless and paranoid Herod. It wasn’t until much later that Jesus arrived home in Nazareth. But even then that was only a temporary dwelling as Jesus’ public ministry was dominated by the homeless existence of a public prophet proclaiming the good news of the reign of God.

The birth of Jesus was one marked by great instability, danger, and risk. It is a sign of the loving freedom of the Son of God to descend to earth as a child in a position of vulnerability and dependence. Even at birth God freely gave of himself. He gave his future into the hands of a young mother and father. He gave himself to humanity in great political turmoil and distress. Even in birth and his early life Jesus was acted upon.

While Christmas can mean presents, cookies, and trees there is something deeper. While the holiday traditions hold a great and even meaningful place, we might take the risk of pulling back the husk to reveal the kernel of the advent season announced by the angel to Mary: “You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”

Advent Reflection 1 - The true humanity of Jesus Christ

In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom he made the universe. The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven. – Hebrews 1:1-4

“The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” - which means, “God with us.” – Matthew 1:23

In advent we wait. But wait for what? In short, the answer is easy. We wait for the coming of the Christ child. And in Jesus Christ we wait not for who we wish Him to be but who He is in himself, who He has revealed himself to be. We wait for person Jesus Christ, who in full humanity and personhood is still yet one substance with God the Father and God the Spirit. We wait for the coming of God in the form of a human without substituting either his divinity or humanity. In Jesus Christ we are confronted with true humanity and true divinity. In Jesus Christ we see with the eyes of faith what it means to be human and who God has shown himself to be. In Jesus Christ we find a co-mingling of two natures in one person. As the Nicean councils so forcefully put it: Jesus Christ is of one substance with God. God of God. Light of light. Yet to clarify any potential confusion, a century later the Council of Chalcedon clarified: while never forfeiting his divine nature in becoming truly human, in Jesus Christ the two natures rest perfectly and paradoxically in one person without confusion or division.

The danger then as it is now to bifurcate Jesus Christ into one or the other. Rather than approaching Christ through how he has revealed himself to be, we divide Jesus into a man or a God, one or the other.

Keeping with the spirit of Hellenistic philosophy one early challenge to the Christian faith was to deny the sufferings of Jesus Christ. Inconceivable that he could be fully God and fully human, the docetists argued that Jesus Christ only appeared to be human. And since it is inconceivable and impossible for God to suffer, in life and in death Jesus Christ only appeared to suffer as you and I might. For the docetists, Jesus Christ is very God and yet not very human. The Jesus of which Scripture bears witness only appeared to be fully-functioning biological human. Some said the body was like a ghost that only seemed human. Others suggested his body was “spiritual”. What was certain was that although Jesus seemed human, he was not.

A good proof-texting docetist might sight a passage such as Hebrews and ask “how could Jesus Christ, whom Scriptures designate as ‘the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being’ be human?” Clearly, the Hebrew Scriptures make it clear that God is God and we, to put it mildly, are not. How then could this Jesus, the radiance of God’s glory, be human? To the Greek philosopher this was truly inconceivable.

As someone who has not witnessed many debates about Jesus Christ framed in terms of Hellenistic philosophy, I have not met many, if any, docetist evangelists. However, amongst those who profess faith in Jesus Christ there is an acute temptation to deny the true humanity of Jesus Christ. We exalt the divinity of Jesus Christ at the expense of his humanity. We lose sight of human frailties that characterized the man Jesus. We forget that this Jesus Christ is Emmanuel, God with us. And by “with us”, I mean that in every possible manner of the word. In Jesus Christ, God became one of us by becoming human. This was no sleight of hand. There was a birth, a human birth. And through this birth God entered the world in the person of Jesus Christ. This is what Karl Barth calls the mystery and miracle of Christmas. And in this birth, Jesus Christ confronts us not only with the very nature of God above, but confronts us with true humanity. We know what it means to be a person through the incarnational activity of Jesus Christ.

Karl Barth on the 40th Anniversary of his Death

40 years ago today, sometime during the night Karl Barth passed away peacefully in the downstairs of his home. Barth's life and work is monumental and people the world over devote literally their whole life studying it. As such, I would be ill-advised summarizing it in any curt fashion. However, I believe Eberhard Busch's re-telling of Barth's final night serve as a good introduction to the man and his work. From Karl Barth - His Life from Letters and Autobiographical Texts:

On Monday 9 December he spent the day working on his lecture again (for a forum
of Catholic and Reformed Christians on the theme of 'Setting Out - Being
Converted - Confessing.' ed.) He was still at work in the evening when he
was interrupted by two telephone calls, about nine o'clock. One was from
his godson Ulrich Barth, to whom he quoted a verse from a hymn which spoke
comfortingly about the Christian hope. The other person who wanted to
speak to him so late at night was his friend Eduard Thurneysen, who had remained
faithful to him over sixty years. They talked about the gloomy world
situation. Then Barth said, 'But keep your chin up! Never mind! "He
will reign!"' When the telephone rang he had been writing a few sentences
of the draft for his lecture in which he was saying that in the church it is
always important to listen to the Fathers who have gone before in the
faith. For '"God is not a God of the dead but of the living." In him
they all live' - from the Apostles down to the Fathers of the day before
yesterday and of yesterday. Barth did not go back to the draft which he
had left in the middle of a sentence, but put it aside until the next day.
However, he did not live that long. He died peacefully some time in the
middle of the night. He lay there as though asleep, with his hands gently
folded from his evening prayers. So his wife found him the next morning,
while in the background a record was playing the Mozart with which she had
wanted to waken him.

Above all Barth was a person of prayer. This was a matter of personal piety but more so it is demonstrated in his own theological work, which as we see never ended. Theology is a matter of worship, reflection, and witness. He liberally borrowed from Anselm's famous dictum: fides intelectum - faith seeks to understand. Theology starts with God and how God has revealed Himself in Jesus Christ and through the Holy Spirit. The theologian responds in faith by testifying to how God who this God is in being, action, and being in action.