The Old Testament predicted that one would come who would be the epitome of what then existed in a partial or incomplete way.  Specifically, the Old Testament had many prophets, but there was to be a final one (Dt.18:18); it knew many priests, but there would be a final one (Ps. 110:4; Zech. 6:13); there were many kings, but there would be a final, messianic figure who would hold that office (Ps. 2:6; Is. 9:7).  At least Ps. 110:4 and Zech. 6:13 show that the same person would hold more than one of these offices.

In the New Testament we find that Christ was the fulfillment of all those predictions.  (See Mt. 21:11 and Jn. 4:19 for prophet; Hebrews 2:7; 3:1; and 5:6 for priest; and Mt. 21:5; Jn. 1:49; 1 Tim. 6:15; and Rev. 19:16 for king.)  During his earthly life, Jesus taught the Word of God and predicted the future just as the OT prophets had done.  In offering himself for sin, he fulfilled the OT priesthood in a very striking way, by being both the priest and the lamb.  He offered himself to the Jews as their Messianic king, but was rejected, until a future time.

That rather brief survey suggests that two of the offices are past and the other is yet future.  In one sense that is true, but in another it is not.  At the center of every colonial New England town stood three white, clapboard buildings-a school, a church, and a town hall.  The Puritans who established and built those towns believed strongly in a communal life revolving around education, faith, and government.  Education had something to do with that ultimate prophet, who was made for us Wisdom (1 Cor. 1:30).  Religious life for them was bound up with a continuing mediatorial work of the great high priest, our righteousness and sanctification, and the proper ordering of society was involved with a king whose law held sway.  In none of these areas was there any uncertainty; the tyranny of the majority was unthinkable.  These offices that Christ held were not merely theological truths or intellectual abstractions; they cut down into the practical aspects of life giving final, absolute answers.

Baptists generally do not have a great deal of use for these offices of Christ, sometimes not even theologically, certainly not sociologically.  But while we may disagree with the way they were applied by the Puritans, their impulse would seem to be sound.  Christ really does fulfill these offices and exercises them on a present, continuing basis.

Phil Meade, Kevin Farmer, Dana Arledge

The ascension of Christ was that act when on the 40^th day after his resurrection he was taken up into heaven to enter his Father’s presence, to remain there until his second coming. Immediately, we are faced with questions as myriad as our imaginations will take us. Yet, the fact that he did ascend is well attested to by Scripture, such as Luke 24:51 which says, “While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven” and Acts 1:9 where Luke wrote, “After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight.”

Though every true Christian wants the Lord to quickly return, his ascension provided several benefits for us. First, he was able to enter into the presence of God with his own blood for our redemption (Hebrews 9:12), second he sat down at the right hand of God to symbolize his work for our redemption was complete (Hebrews 8:1), and third he now serves on our behalf in God’s presence (Hebrews 8:2). In 1697, Samuel Willard, a pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, encouraged his congregation with these words regarding the Ascension of Christ. He wrote:

Let Christ’s Ascension comfort every true believer in the assurance that he will one day go to heaven also. Indeed, may contemplation of this point cause you to consider yourselves to be there already. Remember: Christ, who is there, is your Head, and you are the parts of His body. If the Head is there, the body is sure to follow. He will never be at rest until He has got every one of His body to be there where He is. Think of this: He has gone to take possession for you in your name. He has gone as the Mediator to receive the kingdom of which you are heirs together with Him. His ascension is your guarantee; the kingdom is delivered to Him, for you. Therefore look at heaven as your very own, and let this cause you to bear all afflictions patiently. Encounter all the conflicts on your path courageously and finish your course with undaunted resolution. That man is out of reach of harm in this life, who is sure of possessing heaven in the next. This is the portion of every believer.

(Cited Jan 2, 2006 http://www.puritansermons.com/willard/willard2.htm)

Just before he went to the cross, our Lord told his disciples about preparing places for us in his Father’s house, and that once those places were complete he would return to take us to himself (John 14). It was through his Ascension that he entered God’s presence, to make certain that the preparation for our arrival would be complete.

Dana Arledge, Phil Meade, Kevin Farmer

And if Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain.-1 Corinthians 15:14

The Resurrection of Jesus Christ is the hope of Christianity. Without the literal physical resurrection of Jesus Christ, our faith is nothing more then a philosophical and moral construct in which we comfort ourselves by assigning eternal meaning to our existence.  In which case as scripture says we should be pitied. Thus we should love and cherish this cardinal doctrine.

There are multiple reasons the doctrine of Christ’s resurrection is important to Christianity. First of all, it confirms the faithfulness of God and the integrity of the whole of Scripture. In John 2:19 Christ declared that He would rise from the dead. The Old Testament also foretells of his death and resurrection as in Isaiah 53:11 for example. If he did not rise then scripture is untrustworthy. Secondly, as Romans 4:25 says, it secures for us our justification provided by the shedding of Christ’s blood. Thirdly, it shows the power of sin, that is death, is now powerless. If Christ is not raised then death still has its power. As Paul says in I Corinthians 15, if Jesus is not raised from the dead then no one is. Christ showed that he was more then a mere man by His resurrection. The required payment was made through the death, yet He does not continue to pay the penalty of sin by remaining in the grave but as Romans says His death is once for all time. We died with Christ and his is our propitiation so also we are raised with Christ to newness of life. Fourthly, His resurrection is a promise and a deposit for our resurrection. As Romans 8:11 says we will be raised by the same power that raised Christ. By His death we are justified and by His resurrection we walk in newness of life. If Jesus did not literally rise from the dead, then the entire Christian faith is false and ineffective. Preaching is without value. We are liars concerning God and no sins have been forgiven, thus believers have no hope. But praise be to God our Father who raised Jesus from the dead and has extended that power and grace to us who believe.

May we echo the earnest desires of Paul in Philippians 3:10-11, “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.”

Kevin Farmer, Phil Meade, Dana Arledge

While controversy over the relation of natures in the person of Christ marked the late ancient and early medieval church, we do not get off the hook as easily as we might wish.  The question of the relation of the natures in Christ bedevils several theological questions still, though the alternatives are now clearer.

First, there is the question of impeccability or the ability of Christ to sin.  God, of course, cannot sin, nor can he be tempted with evil.  Jesus was God.  Yet Jesus was tempted, and though victorious, the picture given to us in the Gospels is that there was a real struggle.  There are four alternatives:  1)  He was not able not to sin, 2) He was able to sin (usually with the implication that he didn’t), 3) He was able not to sin (usually with the implication that he did), and 4) He was not able to sin.  How you decide rests largely on how you conceive of the relation of the deity to the humanity of Christ.  The first option is not acceptable, nor is the third as usually understood, but how do you decide between the other two?

There are some parallel issues.  One of them is death.  God is immortal and cannot die; He is in fact the source of life.  Yet the Scripture is emphatic that Jesus did die; there is no atonement without that.  Another is Luke’s statement that the boy Jesus grew in wisdom and knowledge.  God is not subject to learning (He knows all things immediately), and Jesus was God, so how can this be true?  How is it possible for Him not to know the time of His return?  Yet, He explicitly said He didn’t (Mark 13:32).

Theologically, this problem is known as the communicatio idiomatum, or the communication of attributes or properties.  Because of the personal union of natures, orthodoxy affirms that what is properly true of only one or the other nature can be predicated of the whole person.  Thus, although God cannot die, he can experience death in the person of Jesus because he is united to a true human nature that can die.  The same applies to temptation.  (But not to the necessity of sinning because sin is not necessary to true humanity.)

An interesting historical example of this problem is the different conceptions of Christ’s presence in the Lord’s Supper.  Luther argued that he can be physically present because since God is omnipresent, the flesh of Christ is therefore everywhere.  The Reformed, on the other hand, argued that the flesh of Christ is locally present in heaven and Christ is present in the supper only spiritually.  If Luther’s position is correct, how could Jesus be spatially limited to a manger or a cross?  Was it just an illusion?  (See the earlier article on “Docetism.”)

Phil Meade, Dana Arledge, Kevin Farmer

By the end of the fourth century the church had affirmed both the full deity and full humanity of the Son and had arrived at a serviceable doctrine of the Trinity, which would be subsequently elaborated.  During the fifth century the question of the relationship of the divine and human in the person or persons of Christ would come to center stage.

Suppose someone asked you whether Mary bore God or Christ.  What would you say?  How you answer would give some indication of how you conceive of the relationship of the divine and human in Christ. If you say “Christ,” then you would imply that what Mary conceived was only human.  The deity would have to be added or joined subsequently.  There would be only a conjunction of natures.  If you say “God,” then you imply that there is some kind of personal union between the divine and human that exists from conception.

In the fifth century a bishop (Nestorius) was asked exactly this question.  His answer was “Christ.”  This created an enormous controversy with the upshot being that Christ was held to be of two natures in a personal union.  Hence Mary was properly called the God-bearer.

About twenty years later a monk (Eutyches) argued that after the incarnation Christ had but one divinized nature, sort of like homogenized milk.  This also produced a controversy with the upshot being that Christ was held to be both of and in two distinct natures in a personal union.

Chalcedon, A.D. 451, was the creed that finalized all this development over Christ, although the controversy raged on for another two hundred years under some other permutations until finally it split Christendom irreconcilably.  Chalcedon affirms a two-natured, or dyophysite, Christology, and has been the standard for an orthodox understanding ever since, although moderns have bitterly criticized it as being too committed to Greek metaphysics.  Chalcedon does not give an explanation of the person of Christ as much as it provides a set of limits.  The incarnation is not finally comprehensible to us.  Still, we must affirm that certain things are true (and false) if we are to avoid serious theological error.

One of the problems with which orthodoxy struggles is the reality of the human person in Christ.  It holds that the second person of the Trinity became incarnate in Jesus.  But if that is so, what room is left for a human person unless Christ is multi-personal?  The creed affirms two natures united in one person, but the divine nature is already personal.  Does that leave us with only an impersonal human nature?  And is that adequate?

Phil Meade, Kevin Farmer, Dana Arledge

The belief that Jesus is completely God and completely man is a major tenet of Biblical Christianity, yet it is a doctrine which has had its opponents throughout history. Around A.D. 361 the bishop of Laodicea, whose name was Apollinaris, taught that though Jesus had a human body and a human soul, he did not possess a human mind. Instead it was replaced by the “Logos”, or “Word” as mentioned in John 1.  In short, Jesus had a human body but only a divine nature. He had no human nature. Apollinarianism was condemned as a heresy by the Second General Council at Constantinople in 381.

A second heresy, which precedes Apollinarianism but was not condemned until after, was Docetism. This heresy taught that Jesus only appeared to have a human body, and that he was not really God in the flesh. Thus he was not truly human. This heresy caught on because of its belief that matter was inherently evil, which is what the Greek idea of dualism taught, and that God could not be connected to anything truly material. As such Jesus did not really suffer on the cross, nor die. It only looked like he did. The apostle John wrote against this teaching in such places as 2 John 1:7 which says, “Many deceivers, who do not acknowledge Jesus Christ as coming in the flesh, have gone out into the world. Any such person is the deceiver and the antichrist.” Docetism was condemned at the Council of Chalcedon in 451.

At first, these ancient heresies might not seem relevant to us today, but modern cults such as Jehovah Witnesses, who deny the deity of Christ, and Christian Scientists who deny his humanity, are nothing more than variations of these false beliefs.

The two natures of Christ, Divine and human, are important because only in him could the righteous judgment of God towards man’s sinfulness be paid (Hebrews 2:17). Today the defense of the two natures of Jesus is just as relevant a topic for us as it was for the ancient church. As Christians we believe Jesus is both God and man, without confusion or blending of those natures, and that he alone is able to satisfy God’s justice, and by that bring us into the presence of God.

Dana Arledge, Phil Meade, Kevin Farmer

Wherever there is truth, there will be a counterfeit designed to lead people astray.  Arianism like any and every heresy is an example of this. Three hundred years after Christ death Arius, a priest from Alexandria, propagated the idea that Jesus was not God. His teaching can be followed to its modern version in the Jehovah’s Witnesses.

The nature of Christ is at the center of Christianity. This may seem to be an obvious statement. It should not be surprising then that the enemy often attacks this topic. In fact, Jesus’ claims to be the Son of God are what caused the most controversy. The Jewish leadership could not accept this son of a carpenter as deity. The debate over the Deity of Christ has never really disappeared, but for orthodox Christianity it came to a pinnacle at Nicea.  A church council was convened in A.D. 325 to discuss the teaching of Arius. Namely, his teaching that God had created Jesus and thus Christ was not deity. He reasoned that belief in Christ as God would mean that one would no longer be monotheistic. The council concluded the matter with what we refer to as the Nicene Creed.

We believe…in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten from the Father, only-begotten, that is, from the substance of the Father, God from God, light from light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one substance (homoousios) with the Father, through Whom all things were made…

They used the word homoousios, which we translate as of one substance. This was the key language in the creed. The strong meaning of this word echoes clearly what scripture says in Philippians 2:6 “Who being in very nature God…”

The debate did not end at the council. The two sides continued to argue for six decades. The Arians were aided by the political power of Constantine’s son Constantius. The Council of Nicea and its creed was championed by Athanasius the Bishop of Alexandria, who like the Protestant reformers who would follow 1200 years later relied on the Scripture as completely sufficient for doctrine. The Council of Constantinople in A.D. 381 confirmed the earlier creed, not based on the authority of the Council of Nicea, but on the creed’s correspondence with the truth of Scripture.

Kevin Farmer, Phil Meade, Dana Arledge

“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.”
-Isaiah 7:14

The virgin birth of Christ is a central truth in Christology. Often in evangelical circles it is a neglected doctrine that is assumed to be understood. Its biblical roots go back to the prophet Isaiah who foretold of the virgin giving birth to the savior of the world. It stands out on the biblical landscape as an affirmation of a divine event in human history. Isaiah says, “the Lord himself will give you a sign….” The doctrine itself, simply put, is that Jesus Christ was born of a virgin mother, Mary, without the involvement of a human father. It is referred to as the miraculous conception. Not be confused with the erroneous Roman Catholic belief in the Immaculate Conception in which Mary herself was born without a sin nature even though she had human parents. Christ was conceived in Mary by the Holy Spirit thus taking flesh through Mary. This is understood to be a miracle and therefore an impossibility without the direct intervention of God.
The theological importance of the virgin birth has many dimensions. First, the event substantiates the Old Testament prophecy of Isaiah. This confirms the consistency of Scripture. Secondly it speaks to the divinity of Christ. In and of itself it does not prove Christ’s divinity, but the event itself speaks of divine intervention in the course of human events. Thirdly, it supports the humanity of Christ. Jesus was born of a human mother and experienced the trauma of childbirth, the education of a growing child and is thus able to identify with our weaknesses as spoken of in the book of Hebrews. The virgin birth also helps substantiate the sinlessness of Christ. If Christ was born from two human parents it would be more difficult to understand his lack of a sin nature.
The virgin birth speaks to the reliability of Scripture, the divine intervention in human experience, and the love and mercy of God in sending his Son. The doctrine of the virgin birth is sometimes used as a litmus test for evangelical Christians. Does it warrant such consideration? Do we understand enough of scripture to interact with those who hold divergent views? We should meditate on these ideas today and consider more closely the virgin birth of Christ.

Kevin Farmer, Phil Meade, Dana Arledge

“But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law….”–Galatians 4:4

Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself….  Philippians 2:6-8

The Incarnation of the Son is the phrase used to describe the second person of the Trinity when he leaves heaven and “becomes flesh” as stated by John the Beloved. This takes place in the miraculous virgin birth, where the Holy Spirit moves upon Mary and she bears a son.  The Incarnation of the Son is at the heart of Christianity. He who created the world became part of that creation.

The Incarnation would become a foundational doctrine to the church and lead to many other debated doctrines over the history of the church. The idea that the Creator would dwell among us as one of us is one of the most gripping mysteries of Scripture.

Hebrews tells of how the Incarnation helps us because our Great High Priest understands us and can deal gently with us.  Philippians and I Peter teach us that the Incarnation is an example of how we ought to live. These are part of the complex importance of the Incarnation. But to speak of the Incarnation is to speak of the work or “point” of the Incarnation, “She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins”-Matthew 1:21. We who were fallen and enemies of God had no eternal destiny other than destruction. But God in his infinite wisdom sent his Son to provide a glorious grace for his elect. The Incarnation is the condition for that provision.  Atoning death is possible only if there is an Incarnation.

“God presented him as a sacrifice of atonement, through faith in his blood. He did this to demonstrate his justice, because in his forbearance he had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished-he did it to demonstrate his justice at the present time, so as to be just and the one who justifies those who have faith in Jesus.”-Romans3:25-26

The Incarnation is the vehicle God used for the atonement, which provides for our salvation through God’s glorious grace and thus fulfilling its ultimate purpose-the glory of God the Father.

Kevin Farmer, Phil Meade, Dana Arledge

In Philippians 2 Paul says that Jesus emptied himself, taking on the form of a servant when He became incarnate.  The noun form of the word he uses there (“kenosis”) has come directly into theological discussion in the last century and a half and is filled with controversy.

Originally, the idea seems to have been used by liberal thinkers to assert in effect that Jesus emptied himself of the essential attributes of deity and thus, was not truly God while he was on earth. It was a way to maintain a semblance of theological correctness, while denying an essential truth of orthodoxy.  They could make an appeal to the Bible while having only a human Jesus.

The text of Philippians will not support the liberal contention, and in fact, probably militates against any metaphysical conception at all.  If the Philippians were to emulate Jesus, of what were they supposed to empty themselves?

Yet, the question doesn’t go away easily just because the original text used to define the problem was wrongly used.  To have a Jesus who is locally present in a human body and shows all the qualities of a genuine humanity, including learning and suffering, begs us in some way to speak of some limitation of his divine nature, whether we use the word kenosis for it, or find that word objectionable because of its connection to liberalism.

Conservatives are divided over the use of the word and the concept.  Some find in it merely another example of trying to assert a true humanity for Christ; others find in it only a defection from orthodoxy.

A mediating position would argue along the following lines:  The Jesus of the Gospels is presented to us as at least a man, but more than a man.  We find him performing miracles, dealing authoritatively with demons, exercising divine prerogatives, but also sometimes not doing those things, as when he experienced the reality of temptation and sweat drops of blood as he faced a horrid death.  Remember his plea of ignorance regarding the time of the second coming.  The discourses in John particularly show us a man who is intimately in touch with a divine father, doing his will on a continuous basis.  As Paul writes elsewhere, he was the second Adam, succeeding as a human person in a total, continuous relationship with God where the first Adam failed.

Thus the emptying of Philippians 2 is understood as Christ laying aside the free exercise of his divine attributes.  He still possessed them, he just did not exercise them except as he was lead by the Spirit in obedience to the Father.

Phil Meade, Kevin Farmer, Dana Arledge

No one really knows when the church began observing Advent, but there is no record of it occurring prior to the end of the 4^th century. In the west it began on the Sunday nearest to St. Andrews Day (November 30) and always included four Sundays. In the east it began earlier in November and included the idea of fasting and prayer, though in modern times it has not had that connotation.

A primary purpose of Advent (which means “arrival”) has been to anticipate and long for the coming of Christ for man’s deliverance. The idea of deliverance reaches as far back as the Jew’s longing for deliverance from Egypt, and is as pertinent as our longing to be free from the effects of continued living in this fallen world. There is even an aspect in Advent for the longing for ultimate justice to be administered to this world. As such, there has always been a connection between Christ’s coming as a baby, and his cross.

It’s unfortunate many neither understand nor appreciate the significance of this yearly event. In fact, many of us grew up without observing these particular holy days. Historically the primary color used in Advent was purple, a symbol of Christ’s kingly reign, though other colors have also been used. The candles, and the wreath, signify the period of waiting for the Lord’s arrival as well as expectation, hope, and joy. As these candles are lit, and the various readings read, those in attendance are reminded of the importance of Christ’s coming.

Though the celebration of advent has changed throughout space and time, its purpose remains largely unchanged. Every year the church collectively looks back to the time when the Messiah was born of the virgin, and laid in a manger. We are reminded of when he came to set his people free as he announced the coming kingdom of God. Yet, we are also reminded of how much we long for him to come again so that his kingdom might be eternally established on the earth. Advent is perhaps the one time of the year when the collective body of Christ says with one voice, “Amen, Come Lord Jesus” (Revelation 22: 20).

Dana Arledge, Kevin Farmer, Phil Meade

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men.”-John 1:1-4

The Word was God.  The Greek word used here by John is the word logos. It has been simply translated as “word”, “reason,” or “argument” along with a many other terms. But the translation of language often is inadequate to convey the full significance of what is being said by an author.

Greek philosophers had used this term for hundreds of years in relation to a divine force governing nature. Later the idea had progressed in Greek society to a concept of rational power that is associated with divinity, nature, and fate. Stoic ethics that incorporate an anthem of “follow where reason [logos] leads” implies that one should resist passion and emotions in order to live a quality life.  In the first century the Jewish philosopher Philo Judaeus incorporated the logos in his attempt to combine Jewish tradition with Platonic philosophy. The use of the word logos in metaphysical terms had been well established in the Greek and first-century Jewish cultures.  There is a correlation in Jewish theology to creation. God created through spoken word and it is God’s word that accomplishes his will.
Against this backdrop John uses the word logos to describe Christ. He asserts that Christ as the word, or reason of God was God from the beginning. He contends that the Logos of God is God, has a relationship with the Father, and was the one through whom all things were made. This use of the word by John gave early church fathers a philosophical bridge in which to communicate the Gospel into the Greek culture.

Kevin Farmer, Dana Arledge, Phil Meade

When we consider the term “eternal generation,” we need to make a distinction between the way we organize ideas in systematic theology and the way they developed historically.  The term and the thinking behind it come from the fourth century, but theologically it applies to the person of Christ from eternity past.

A few weeks ago, you read an article on “Begotten” that highlighted the fact that Jesus is not a creature, but the eternal Son of God.  The Creed of Nicea expressly distinguishes the begottenness of the Son from any idea of createdness-”begotten not made.”

But having a Son who is fully God, just like the Father is, pushed the ancient church to define more carefully how there can be only one God if He is multiple.  Their answer was the doctrine of the Trinity, one God in essence, but three in person.  Scripture is relatively silent about the exact nature of God on this point, but it does give some clues.  In attempting to explain how the persons are distinct within the Trinity, the church adopted part of the word “begotten” and filled it with a new meaning.  It became a word describing the personal relationship of the Father and the Son.

This is a rather simple idea in one sense, but very complex in another.  To maintain the oneness of God, there can be no essential difference between the persons.  Each must possess the entire essence of what God is in the same measure and to the same extent as the other persons.  God has only one nature, one will, etc.  How then should we distinguish the persons?  What is it that makes them distinct from each other?  Orthodoxy says that the persons are defined relationally.  The fact that the Son is begotten or generated is what makes Him the Son.  If we were to say that the Spirit is also begotten, we would be saying that the Father has twin Sons.  The church took a different word from the Gospel of John (15:26) to define the Spirit’s person; He is the one who proceeds from the Father.  Hence the relationship of Procession is what defines the Spirit as the Spirit; Generation is what defines the Son as the Son.  Because God is eternal, these personal relationships are also held to be eternal, hence “Eternal Generation” is often the way it is expressed.

The Greek and Latin churches came to have slightly different conceptions in some of the details, but they are agreed at least on the basic terms and concepts.

Phil Meade, Kevin Farmer, Dana Arledge

The word “Messiah” is one of those religious words which we connect to Jesus, but far too many of us don’t really know why.  In order to have a good grasp on what this important word means we must try and understand what it meant to the Jews.

In the Old Testament this word is used more than thirty times to describe kings and priests. It was applied to King David as a model for the final Messiah who would come at the end of the age. Psalm 2:2 says, “The kings of the earth take their stand and the rulers gather together against the LORD and against his ‘Anointed One’ (Messiah).” David was the king in view when this was written, but it ultimately pointed to Jesus.

The common expectation of the Jews was God’s Messiah would be a political, military ruler who would throw off all foreign oppressors. Jesus, however, never aligned his Messiahship with common thought. He knew God’s desire was for him to be a spiritual, not a political, deliverer. At his arrest he said in John 19:36, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place.”

That kingdom was a kingdom born from suffering. In Luke 4:18-19 Jesus applied Isaiah 61:1-2 to himself when he said the Spirit of the LORD was upon him and had anointed (Messiah) him to preach, heal, and deliver. This he accomplished first because of who he was, and secondly by what he did. As both God and man Jesus was the only person in history who could ever fully be God’s Messiah. As the one whose life was lived in perfect conformation with God’s will, and who subsequently was sacrificed as God’s lamb on Calvary’s cross, he was able to permanently take away our sin.

While the Jews rejected Jesus as their Messiah, Luke 4:41 tells us that demons knew he was the “Christ” (Messiah) of God. The idea of Jesus being God’s Messiah has always divided people. For some he is a “stumbling block” while to others he is the “power and wisdom of God” (1 Corinthians 1:23-24).  The Bible testifies clearly that Jesus is God’s one and only Messiah.

Dana Arledge, Kevin Farmer, Phil Meade

John 3:16 in the King James Version begins with the words, “for God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son.” But what does the word “begotten”‘ mean?  Is it another word for birth or being born?  Was John saying Jesus was God’s firstborn son?  If so, then where was Jesus before he was born? Before he was conceived by Mary?

The word itself is used nine times in the New Testament and can refer to the idea of birth. For example, Luke 7:12 tells us a certain widow lost her “only son” (our word “begotten”), and that Jesus brought him back to life. The word is also used to talk about an only daughter (Luke 8:42), and an only child (Luke 9:38, Hebrews 11:17). But when it’s used of Jesus, the emphasis is not on his physical birth but his position in God. He is uniquely God’s Son, being God himself (cf. John 1:1-18, 1 John 4:19).  The ancient Nicene Creed was written to defend his unique status as when it said regarding Jesus, “We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father.”

One reason this is important is because of those who believe Jesus was a son of God without being divine (e.g., Islam, cults, and liberal Christians). However, when we remember that Hebrews 11:17 says Isaac was Abraham’s “one and only Son,” even though Ishmael was also alive, then we realize the word “begotten” can also be connected to the idea of “uniqueness.” Though God has other sons (e.g., angels [Job 1:6], peacemakers [Matthew 5:9], Christians [John 1:12-13]) only Christ is uniquely God’s Son. He stands above and apart from everyone else.

If we do not hold to Christ’s uniqueness as being God’s “only begotten” Son, then we forfeit the Christian faith, for that term connects us to his deity, and his ability to totally take care of our sins.

Dana Arledge, Phil Meade, Kevin Farmer