God "Sat Again"
What Athanasius Can Teach Us About the Incarnation
During this Christmas season, holiday parties, work meetings, family gatherings, school plays, and shopping lists (or recently in our house, seasonal illnesses) all threaten to crowd our already over-crowded lives and drown out the wonder of the season. Rather than add to your to-do list, I invite you to slow down with me and ponder the incarnation. In recent years, no one has helped me enter into worshipful contemplation of “God-made-man” more than a certain ancient Egyptian. Now, before you close the tab in anticipated boredom, allow me to introduce Athanasius and his classic work, On the Incarnation.
Why care about reading theology from seventeen hundred years ago? Honestly, I can’t make a better case for reading old books than C.S. Lewis makes in his introduction to On the Incarnation. But, I will echo Lewis and say that reflecting on the works of saints from another time illuminates and enriches our own faith and practice. In my first time reading Athanasius, I was surprised by his simplicity and challenged by his depth. He uses reason and evidence to argue for the reliability of the biblical account of the incarnation. However, beyond mere argument, Athanasius also invites us to bear witness to the Word who became flesh. This has been my favorite advent devotional for the past several years. Pick up your own copy and, with ten or fifteen minutes of thoughtful reading a day, you could easily finish by Christmas Eve! Let me help you get started.
Much like the Gospel of John (1:1-3), Athanasius begins his work by returning to creation. The Father “effect[s] the salvation of the world through the same Word Who made it in the beginning.”1 Here, Athanasius illuminates the beauty of the biblical story by connecting creation with re-creation. Mankind must be remade in the image of the Creator, a transformation that only the Creator can accomplish. Jesus, who was present at the creation of all things, is able to recreate all things through his incarnation. Athanasius describes this unique qualification: “For He alone, being Word of the Father and above all, was in consequence both able to recreate all, and worthy to suffer on behalf of all and be an ambassador for all with the Father.”2 But why would God so identify with his creation as to suffer on our behalf? Athanasius explains: “He has been manifested in a human body for this reason only, out of the love and goodness of His Father, for the salvation of us men.”3 Love. God became man out of love for us! Athanasius offers an illustration:
You know what happens when a portrait that has been painted on a panel becomes obliterated through external stains. The artist does not throw away the panel, but the subject of the portrait has to come and sit for it again, and then the likeness is re-drawn on the same material. Even so was it with the All-holy Son of God. He, the Image of the Father, came and dwelt in our midst, in order that He might renew mankind made after Himself, and seek out His lost sheep, even as He says in the Gospel: "I came to seek and to save that which was lost." This also explains His saying to the Jews: "Except a man be born anew…” He was not referring to a man's natural birth from his mother, as they thought, but to the re-birth and re-creation of the soul in the Image of God.4
God himself “sat again” so that we might be remade in his image. On the Incarnation is full of such helpful examples, awaiting those who are willing to embark with Athanasius into the wonder of the incarnation.
Alongside his arguments from reason, Athanasius also includes evidence from the testimony of others, particularly the martyrs of his own time. Their testimony, he argues, bears witness to the reality of Jesus’ incarnation in a way reason alone cannot (This avoids one of the dangers of theological reflection: that it might build up our minds and inflate our egos without leading to the healthy fruit of a deeper love for God and others). What else would cause pagans to abandon their idols in worship of the one true God? Or cause young men and women to take vows of chastity? Or lead to men, women, and children boldly embracing death, without fear, out of reverence for Christ? In reflecting on these testimonies, I wonder how pondering the work of God in our own lives might orient us towards a greater delight in God and concern for others.
As you reflect on the story of God’s dwelling among us, reflect on your own story. What characterized your life before you met Jesus? Fear? Anxiety? Addiction? Self-ambition? How did you meet Jesus, and how did he encounter your need? How has Jesus and the work of the Spirit brought transformation in your life? How are you different because of him? How has he been working in your heart and life lately?
I’d challenge you to spend some time reflecting on these questions before the Lord. Discuss them with your family and close friends. At a party or family gathering over the next few weeks, ask someone about their story. What do they believe about the significance of this season? Do they have any hopes or desires for the new year? What challenges or difficulties are they experiencing? What are they doing to remedy them? By reflecting on the story of Christ and your own story, you can be better prepared to engage other’s stories with the hope and beauty of the gospel. Use your own story to tell the story of Jesus, joining the chorus of saints who sing, “Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing! O come, let us adore him, Christ, the Lord!”5 And invite your neighbor to do the same.
On the Incarnation, 1.1
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