God, a Human: The Fantastic Absurdity

I’ve often wondered if Jesus ever had a crush on a nice girl in his town.
And how did Jesus laugh—did he have a deep, Aslan-like laugh? Or more of a braying chuckle?
Did his eyes crinkle when he smiled? Was he an ugly crier or a single-tear kind of guy?
Was he a good singer, or not so much? Was he the kind of person who whistles or hums all the time, subconsciously?
Did he have any interesting birth marks? Dimples?
How did his beard fill out as he hit puberty?
I wonder if he had any other scars from carpentry accidents, or childhood
How tall was Jesus?
Did he catch onto feeding quickly and smoothly as a baby, or was there a learning curve for both him and Mary? What was his first word?
Was Jesus a verbal processor, and super extroverted? Or quite reflective and introverted? Somewhere in between?
How long did it take Jesus to learn carpentry (or whatever other labouring he might have done)? Was he super talented, or just competent?
How much did Jesus look like Mary? Did he look anything at all like Joseph? What was he like as an older brother?
Did Jesus and his cousin John grow up together? How did they get on as kids?
Do you think he could roll his tongue? Did he have a sweet tooth?
Was Jesus quite athletic, or kind of clumsy? How often did Jesus get sick?
Was Jesus a morning person? An afternoon napper?
Did he have a knack for cooking? What was his go-to road trip snack?
Did Jesus have strange, vivid dreams? Or was he the kind of person who never remembers their dreams?
Were there any learnt behaviours or traits Jesus picked up from his family? (Mt Maunganui author Stacey Pyne wonders if there was something funny like a particular way of coughing passed down all the men in Joseph’s family line, all the way to Jesus!)
Do you reckon Jesus snored?

The answers to these questions don’t really matter—I just like to ponder sometimes.

Jesus really was a human. Jesus was really born, as a middle eastern baby, to a teenage girl, no epidural, in the animal section of a stranger’s home. (Messy. And noisy.)

The incarnation is a part of the gospel I think we can quite easily take for granted. Jesus’ death and resurrection are such pinnacle points in God’s salvation plan, regardless of how we might understand the mechanics of them. But Jesus really was a human. Emmanuel. God, with us. God, among us. God, one of us. That has to be gospel news too, doesn’t it?

Adult Jesus—the Jesus who lived, taught, died, and was resurrected—literally changed all of history with his words, actions and sacrifice. But consider with me the power—and I know this is ironic—of a baby Jesus. An infant Jesus. A toddler Jesus.

Jesus with needs.
Jesus dependent on his mother and family, on food and shelter and warmth, to survive.
Jesus, with an emerging personality as a toddler and child.
Jesus, learning how to be part of a family and contribute to the household workload.
Jesus, learning how to participate in the family business.
Jesus, learning the Torah just like all the other boys in the village.
Jesus, the childhood friend.
Jesus, the sibling.
Jesus, the teenager.

As we lead into Christmas this year, consider pondering with me the humanity of Jesus, and the fantastic absurdity of it all. God became a person. With a personality and quirks and everything. With physical characteristics and family resemblance. With responsibilities and relationships.

Without wandering into too many Christological and soteriological nuances here, and without taking away from the rich and intricate gospel narrative that encompasses Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, consider with me the way Jesus’ humanity is like a wonderful depiction of the whole thing. We see God and humanity united forever in the person-ness of Jesus. Jesus is the literal, physical embodiment of an eternal relationship between the Creator and created. Jesus is a picture of the gospel just by being born. That blows me away.

This advent, consider spending some time reflecting on Jesus’ humanity.

Try an ancient form of reading Scripture, particularly the gospels, from St. Ignatius of Loyola, where we’re invited to imagine ourselves in the story we’re reading; to encounter the narrative with our own senses. (Read more about Ignatian Contemplation here.)

If you haven’t watched The Chosen series, try a Christmas episode—this crowd-funded series thoughtfully and creatively tells the stories of Jesus in the gospels to help us ponder them more deeply, and with fresh eyes. With a healthy sense of discernment and wonder, and perhaps a Bible open next to us, the learnings can be wonderful.

“’The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’ (which means ‘God with us’).” Matthew 1:23.

“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” John 1:14

 God, a human—the fantastic absurdity!

~

Grace Paddison is a regular contributor at Metanoia.