[Read Scripture text.]
Many of you have probably seen the television series "Undercover Boss," in which the CEO of a corporation assumes a disguise and works alongside their employees on the shop floor or serving customers. In that role they come to a much deeper understanding and appreciation of what it takes to work there, and how vitally important the human component is. Because even beyond the business dimension, those executives encounter the humanity of their workforce, and some of their very real struggles--and it's always an eye-opening realization for them. The CEO invariably comes away a more compassionate and better leader, for having met the employees where they live and work. And there's an authentic, often very poignant human connection that happens as a result.
I've thought that there's a kind of theological parallel to the theme of those stories, in how Jesus assumed our humanity in the way he lived and suffered among us. We don't talk about it enough, but it's important that we fully value and appreciate Christ's humanity in its own right. It's significant that whenever Jesus refers to himself in the Gospels it's almost always as "the Son of Man." It seems that he wanted to remind us of that authentically human dimension of his identity. Christ's humanity wasn't swallowed up by his deity. In fact, it's precisely in and through his humanity that Jesus shows us the face and the heart of God.
The Book of Hebrews is key in helping us to see and value the humanity of Jesus. Listen: "Both the one who makes us holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call us brothers and sisters. Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in our humanity. For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham's descendants. For this reason he had to be made like us in every way." Jesus is our brother, part of our human family and like us in every way, only sinless.
Consider what Jesus saw and encountered in the years of his public ministry, from only a few of the stories we're told: a woman caught in adultery and about to be stoned; a man cheated out of his inheritance by his brother; a mother bereft of her only child; the injustice and resentment of the Roman occupation and political oppression; and, of course, the fierce opposition and persecution of Israel's religious leaders.
But more positively, Jesus also witnessed our "better angels" too: first, through his own father Joseph, "a righteous man" (Mt. 1:19); and another righteous man, a Roman Centurion with an admirable faith; an impoverished widow giving sacrificially of her meager income; and the innocence of small children. Jesus was fully immersed in a full, complex human experience all throughout his life, the good and the bad.
He also chose to surround himself with the twelve apostles, day and night, for over three years. (Think about that: who among us would be willing to spend even a fraction of that time on a camping trip with twelve friends?) They would have gotten to know one another extremely well. And beyond that, Jesus formed especially close friendships with three of them: Peter, James and John. I sometimes think of Jesus putting his arm around the shoulder of one of his friends when they needed that human touch, or having deep personal conversations with his followers as they walked, and rested, and shared life together. It's important that we three-dimensionalize his life, and not just settle for a flat, unimaginative perspective on the familiar stories. We also know that there were several women mentioned by name who followed Jesus and the apostles, caring for their needs, and he would very likely have developed close relationships with them.
Jesus also experienced all of the natural afflictions of humanity, including temptation, grief, anger, frustration, fear (intense fear, in Gethsemane), and even doubt, feeling abandoned by God while on the cross.
In fact, there's a distinct emphasis in this passage on Jesus' experience of suffering, telling us, "The author of our salvation was made perfect through suffering." He related with us fully on that universal human level, by suffering physically, emotionally, relationally and even spiritually.
And as Isaiah tells us, "He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief" (familiar with suffering). He was "rejected by men." And as we all probably know if we've lived long enough, rejection is one of the most painful experiences any of us can have. And Jesus knew more than his share of it, being rejected even by his own brothers, who didn't believe in him at first, by his neighbors in Nazareth, by the religious establishment, and ultimately by a crowd calling insistently for his crucifixion. "He was despised and rejected by men."
Through all of this shared human experience, Jesus deserves his rightful place as our intermediary with the Father: "For there is one God and one mediator between God and humanity, the man Jesus Christ" (1 Timothy 2:5), both fully human and fully divine.
The late pastor, writer and former Chaplain of the Senate, Lloyd Ogilvie, has told of a conversation he had with a young college student who considered himself an agnostic. At one point in the discussion he asked the young man what it would take for him to believe in God. The student pointed toward the window and answered, "If that tree in the courtyard were to catch fire right now, I would take that as a sign of God's existence." Ogilvie thought about that for a minute, and then said, "Okay, let's say that happened. So what would it really tell you about God? That he could perform tricks with fire? And wouldn't you need another show of proof again later, more tricks every few years? But God Is not a cheap magician. He's infinitely greater than that. Nor is he some mysterious force in the universe. That's the furthest thing from the truth. In fact, he’s revealed himself to us in the form of a human being, in the life of a man who showed us the way of love and compassion and goodness--first, by his teaching and example, and ultimately by his sacrificial death for the cause of love--to save us from ourselves and the consequences of our sins. And that man, Jesus of Nazareth, was also the revelation of God himself. The man Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was the embodiment of the saving love of God for us to know in both his humanity and his deity."
Someone has said that there's a point in every sermon called the "so what" moment. So what? So how does this fuller understanding of Christ's humanity impact our faith and our lives? Listen again to Hebrews: "We don't have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tested just as we are--yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need" (4:15-16). Or, as it's paraphrased in The Message, "So let's receive what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy. Accept the help."
Jesus has walked a lifetime in our shoes. He's "God with us," as fully human, "the Son of Man, as he is divine, the Son of God. Nor did Jesus lose his humanity when he ascended to heaven. He's still the Son of Man and the Son of God. He knows and empathizes with us in our struggles and life's challenges, and we can trust in his understanding and compassion. And in fact, as we're told later in Hebrews and elsewhere in the New Testament, "He always lives to intercede for us" (7:25). He's still one of us--with us, and for us, all the way.
Jesus once told his apostles, "No greater love has anyone than that he lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13). Jesus is our friend, and the best definition of a friend I've heard is "someone who knows you very well and loves you anyway." Jesus fits that definition: he knows us perfectly, and he loves us unconditionally. A friend of mine once told me, "My wife gets me," and what I think he meant by that is that his wife knows and understands him, and she loves him for just who he is. And Jesus is like that: he gets us, with perfect knowledge and understanding, and he loves us with a deep, faithful love.
So, if you hear nothing else, I hope you'll hear this: God isn't a remote, ethereal being, transcendent and unfathomable--because Jesus has made him known. He's the life-saving mediator between God and the human race, who knows and loves us, and through whom we can know and love God.
Holy Communion is the perfect illumination of that truth, in which the saving love of God is revealed through the elements of bread and wine, symbols of the mortal body and blood of Jesus, the Son of Man. These memorials of Christ's human life and the sacrifice of his own literal flesh and blood become the spiritual language of God's great compassion and mercy.
