Two Narratives Collided In A Wood
Was it really because Christians are misogynists? Was it really because men don’t care about the happiness and health of their wives? Was it really because Evangelicals hated black people? Or is it because they—like the rest of the world—are staring into a genderless, plastic abyss wherein women and men are not who God says they are, whereby they must, the cultural law says they must, enact their desires or they will not be whole and healthy?
I made some dear (IRL) friends upset yesterday who have been helped by Gregoire’s previous book. The day was also one of unrelenting frustration whereby I spent the whole of it in the car driving people around instead of doing what I planned. I was not able to respond to anything, nor even beat back my own sink full of dishes, nor walk the dog, nor keep up online. I did manage to read a second chapter of Gregoire’s new book but I’d like to do two chapters in one post, so I’m going to pick that up tomorrow. Instead, I want to try to put words to something that I think is swirling around in the cultural air. This will be hard because I prefer to have a tweet or an article to bounce off of, but, it’s International Women’s Day—so let’s celebrate with a listicle.
One. An alluring and powerful narrative has formed about the plight of women and the reasons things are so bad today. It goes something like this: Christians have irreparably damaged their witness, the Christian faith, and the lives of women by their unacceptable view of marriage and sex; and Christians have damaged the Christian faith by their view of the Bible.
Where did this narrative come from? How did it form? It has two or three sources. The first source, I think, is the culture itself which, in a short time, radically shifted from one view of what it means to be human, to another. It took a whole century for the new view to become entrenched, but I really think contraception was the millstone that sunk a “biblical view of the family” under the sea for most people. Even if they had some idea with their heads about human relationships, what they knew with their bodies radically contradicted that view. In a world where women can control if and when they have children, the biological reality of being a woman is not meaningful or substantive enough to undergird and support a society.
The second source of this narrative was the Christian reaction to this change. Christians reacted strongly, as they should have. But, in many cases, wildly and with a hint of hysteria. As the western world shifted from a positive to a neutral to a negative view of Christianity, it is not surprising that those people who refused to shift away from “traditional” and biblical norms became the bad ones. Moreover, as the defacto conscience of the whole, they are discovering that they ought to be quiet, but that they may not go away. In family systems theory, the “biblical view of the family” is the trap that holds all the toxic fumes of the larger system. The western family needs Christianity as its scapegoat. It needs Christians to occasionally react in sorrow and outrage. But secular culture cannot absolutely get rid of Christianity or it will have to face who it is, and that’s not pretty, so of course it won’t do that.
In the usual way of these sorts of cultural shifts, the outside assault on the “biblical view of the family” was helped by the inside repudiation of it. Many “Christians” now unreservedly accept a secular view of what it means to be a self. Assumptions about the needs and requirements of this new kind of humanity, though largely, I would say (after reading just two chapters of Gregoire) unexamined, drive the internal “culture war” that Christians are enduring. Health—both physical and emotional—are at the center of these assumptions.
It is hard for me to overstate how deeply I feel this shift myself. That is because I came in and out of American culture at key moments and was able to observe how it was changing. Christians through time and space have not had this new assumption of “health” at the heart of their faith. And not just Christians either. Most cultures around the world continue not to pursue this idea of “health.”
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Jesus the Zealot
As the Temple housed the ark of the covenant containing the law of God so too Christ is the incarnate Word and consummate revelation of God. “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son” (Hebrews 1:1). As the temple was the meeting place between God and man where his people would come to worship, so we meet God in Christ Jesus and only through Him is our worship made acceptable.
In 1516, Johan Tetzel was dispatched by Pope Leo X to raise money for the rebuilding of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome by selling indulgences. According to the Roman Catholic Church, when one purchased an indulgence, the Pope would remit the punishment of their sin by applying the merit of Jesus and the saints. Tetzel told the poor peasants whom he preyed on, “When a coin in the coffer rings, the soul from purgatory springs.” This blasphemous greed sparked the righteous indignation of a German monk named Martin Luther, who on Oct. 31, 1517 nailed a document to the cathedral doors of Wittenberg, listing 95 complaints, or theses, against the Roman Catholic Church. Luther insisted that God alone, not the Pope, could remit the guilt and penalty of sin; that the sale of indulgences was a crime against humanity and heaven for the merit of Christ alone, not of Mary, martyrs and saints, was able to save the soul. The Lord used Luther’s zeal to ignite the Protestant Reformation. And as the Roman Catholic Church still sells indulgences, we are still protesting Protestants.
In John 2:12-22, we read of another infinitely greater zealot, the Lord Jesus Christ, who was so incensed by the greed and corruption that had infected the church, his Father’s house, he broke out in holy fury to reform it, for Jesus is zealous for pure worship and we should be too.
First, Jesus displays his zeal. From the wedding in Cana, to Capernaum, Jesus “went up to Jerusalem because the Passover of the Jews was at hand” (John 2:13). Passover was 1 of 7 feast days instituted by God in the Old Testament, whereby the church would celebrate his past faithfulness. Passover honored the Lord’s mercy when the angel of death killed all the firstborn of Egypt but passed over Hebrew homes which bore the blood of the lamb. Since proper Passover observance required a sacrifice, the faithful journeyed to Jerusalem every year.
See the zeal in Jesus religious observance. Despite the cost, danger and difficulty of the journey, he was committed to observing the holy ordinances of God. Can you say the same? Though Christ fulfilled and abolished the feast days of old, “there remains a sabbath rest for the people of God” (Hebrews 4:9), on which the Lord has commanded his people to cease from all worldly employment and recreation to rest in the finished work of Christ chiefly through corporate worship. But all too often we are not zealous in our observance of God’s holy day. Consistent church attendance is interrupted by work, school and sports. We easily forget how desperately we need to be sanctified through the truth of God’s Word. We forget that we who are members vowed to support the church in its work and worship. We forget that God promised the one who “calls the Sabbath a delight and honors it” (Isaiah 58:13-14) will delight in the Lord, and ride on the heights of the earth, and feast upon the heritage of Jacob. Jesus was willing to travel three days, on foot, through the wilderness, uphill, because he remembered and believed God’s promise to bless the means of grace. May Christ’s zeal burning in us, joyfully drive us to the same observant faith… remembering all the while that it was Christ’s observance, not ours, that saves us!
Recently, a headline caught my eye: “Florida man banned from ocean after being arrested in human-sized hamster wheel off Tybee.” Sadly, this was Ray Baluchi’s 4th attempt to cross the Atlantic in his “Hydro Sphere.” He made it an impressive 70 miles across the 4,000-mile span between continents. We laugh because it’s absurd. How much more absurd to think that you could span the infinitely greater distance between earth and heaven in your hamster wheel of good works, spiritual discipline and church attendance. Christ’s righteousness, no ours, that has the power and perfection to saves us.
But we also see Jesus zeal in his objection to the profaning of religion: “In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers sitting there” (John 2:14)
Jerusalem’s streets would have been flooded with pilgrims; her air would have been electric with anticipation. But what Jesus found when he came to the temple broke his heart. Instead of saints singing psalms he heard the lowing of cattle and bleating of sheep. Instead, the sweet aroma of burning incense, he smelled the septic stench of animal dung. Instead of a people bowed in prayer he witnessed all the commotion of commerce and trappings of trade. What may have begun as a sincere service to travelers by offering a one stop shop where they could exchange foreign currency and acquire lambs necessary to participate in the feast, had devolved into a feverish flee market. Blinded by greed, the priests and merchants were profiting from Passover! The sacred had been profaned and the temple tainted. And Jesus would not stand for it. While the other gospels record Jesus’ second cleansing of the temple two years later, John alone records this first cleansing. And John alone includes Jesus’ whip. Some commentators suggest that Jesus used it to drive animals only, but that’s not what the text says. John wrote, “And making a whip of cords, he drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and oxen. And he poured out the coins of the moneychangers and overturned their tables. And he told those who sold the pigeons, ‘Take these things away; do not make my Father’s house a house of trade’” (John 2:15-16). Malachi spoke of this day in Malachi 3:1; the day the Lord would “suddenly come to his temple, to purify the sons of Levi,” asking “who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap.”
What do you do with this side of Jesus? Our sinful hearts predispose us to approach scripture like a buffet line: picking and choosing only what we like and leaving the rest. We like the thought of gentle Jesus, meek and mild, healer, teacher, servant, and friend of sinners (and he is!) But what about King Jesus, the man of war in blood-stained robes who treads the wine press of the wrath of God? What about the demon slayer who came to destroy the powers of darkness? What about the serpent-stomping Seed of the Woman? What about the all-terrible Lamb of God in whose presence the beast and his followers will burn in the lake of fire forever? What about this table flipping, whip-wielding zealot? If you’re embarrassed by Jesus, if this passage makes you feel a tinge of shame, could it be that you are not sufficiently offended by the pollution of God’s worship? Could it be that we aren’t sufficiently zealous for pure worship? Let us never be ashamed of Christ! Let us own him and praise him for his courage and zeal.
In one of the iconic scenes of C.S. Lewis’, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Mr. Beaver was telling the children about Aslan, the king of Narnia, and Lucy asked, “Is he a man?” Mr. Beaver replied, “Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-beyond- the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion- the Lion, the great Lion…” Susan asked, “Is he – quite safe?” “Safe?” asked Mr. Beaver. “Who said anything about safe? Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.” So too, our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lion of Judah isn’t safe. But he’s good. So, may we be gripped by the ferocious goodness of Christ who was willing to stand alone to defend the honor of God.
As the disciples watched Jesus clean house, they didn’t withdraw from him or make apologies for him. Instead, they remembered the words of Psalm 69:9, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” In Greek, to be zealous is to be jealous over something that belongs to you but is being threatened… like the loving wife who is jealous for the eyes and desires of her husband. So, you see, this was no sinful outburst. Jesus was consumed with zeal because pure worship in the splendor of holiness was being withheld from the Lord to whom it was due. So, like Josiah and Hezekiah, King Jesus purged the temple of its idols; in this case the idol of money.
Paul warned Timothy, “the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs” (1 Timothy 6:10). So, you elders and deacons must vigilantly guard your own hearts and the hearts of our people from the love of money. Should the church be engaged in commerce of any kind? Pew taxes, book tables, gift shops, or fund raisers? Is it safe to say that if you need a cash register at church, you’re doing it wrong? Shouldn’t the needs of the church be met by the Lord himself through the faithful tithing of his people?
But this passage speaks more deeply to the spiritual mission of the church. The tragic error of the church growth movement is that it looks to Starbucks instead of Scripture to determine it priorities and strategies. Today, many churches are built to look and feel like a coffee shop or a concert hall instead of a traditional meeting house, built for preaching and singing. Everything from the music to the message is geared towards the comfort of the consumer. While all Christians should long to see the church filled, we must remember that the mission of church is not firstly our comfort but the glory of God. Richard Phillips said, “Our success in worship is measured not in the amount of money we take in, not in the number of people we attract, but in the purity and truth with which we worship God and cause his name to receive glory.” So let us burn with Christ-like zeal for pure, holy, and biblical worship that pleases God, the true consumer of our worship, the true seeker, seeking those who would worship him in Spirit and truth.
Having displayed his zeal in observance and objection, Jesus defends his zeal. Why do you think nobody tried to stop Jesus? Where was temple security? I mean, he was throwing furniture! I suspect it’s because the righteousness of his cause was so undeniable, and the hand of God was so evident in his work none could object. Instead of attacking his actions the Jews attacked his credentials, demanding a sign: “So the Jews said to him, ‘What sign do you show us for doing these things?’ Jesus answered them, ‘Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.’ The Jews then said, ‘It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will you raise it up in three days?’ But he was speaking about the temple of his body. When therefore he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they believed the Scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken” (John 2:18-22). Jesus defended his zeal by appealing to his future resurrection. And his cryptic language did exactly what he intended: it veiled the truth to those outside the kingdom while revealing it to those inside.
Jesus was speaking figuratively, it’s true. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t saying something spectacular that we must hear. Why does he refer to himself as the temple? Because he is! As the Shekinah glory cloud of God rested upon and filled the temple, so too the Spirit of God descended and remained upon Jesus. The writer to the Hebrews marveled, “He is radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature” (Hebrews 1:3).
As the Temple housed the ark of the covenant containing the law of God so too Christ is the incarnate Word and consummate revelation of God. “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son” (Hebrews 1:1). As the temple was the meeting place between God and man where his people would come to worship, so we meet God in Christ Jesus and only through Him is our worship made acceptable. “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). As the temple was the place where priests made atoning sacrifices to expiate the sins of God’s people and propitiate the just wrath of God, so too Jesus, our great high priest offered himself as our substitute upon the cross to satisfy the demand of divine justice, put away the guilt and shame of our sin forever, and reconcile us to God.
As the Passover pilgrims had to enter into the temple so too you must enter into the Lord Jesus Christ. Have you done that? Or are you still on the outside looking in, thinking to yourself, “Oh I would! I would enter into Christ if only I knew how! Where is the door by which I may enter into Christ and be saved?”
There is an ancient church in Bethlehem which some claim was be built upon the sight of Jesus’ birth. Though the church is grand and its walls are made of great stones, the door is small, just four feet high. It is called “the door of humility,” because to enter in you must bow down. So must we to enter into Christ… we must bow down in humble adoration, repenting of our sins, and putting our trust in him.
This you must do, for one day the Lord Jesus will come again, like a thief in the night he will suddenly appear riding on the clouds of glory, to sift the wheat from the chaff. Even now, he stands at the door, his winnowing fork in hand! Those who have rejected him and his overtures of love and forgiveness will hear the most dreadful words: “I never knew you, depart from me, you workers of lawlessness” (Matthew 7:23). And they will be cast into the furnace of the fury of God. But those who have entered into Christ through faith as their soul’s refuge, hiding place, high tower and temple can rest secure behind the stone walls of his steadfast love and unassailable righteousness, beneath the waving banner of God’s favor, which bears these words, written in the blood of Christ, “Well done, good and faithful servant…Enter into the joy of your master” (Matthew 25:21). So warns, and so promises the sweet psalmist of Israel: “Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and you perish in the way, for his wrath is quickly kindled. Blessed are all who take refuge in him” (Psalm 2:12). Won’t you come and take refuge in Christ!
Jim McCarthy is a Minister in the Presbyterian Church in America and is Pastor of Trinity PCA in Statesboro, Ga.
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The Island of Lost Boys
The new free documentary Lost Boys: Searching for Manhood spotlights five young men who have decided to tell their stories. Alex, Brian, Njada, Ritchie, and Torren come from a variety of backgrounds. No two of their stories are exactly the same. Each is like a fingerprint, unique to the storyteller. But all five men have something in common: courage.
I would definitely like to have been a woman, because I feel, whether rightly or wrongly, that then everything would have fallen into place. The way I speak, the way I walk, the way I move, and the thoughts in my head would not any longer have been remarkable. They would have been acceptable. What I’m so bad at is being a man. — Quentin Crisp
When transgenderism was a budding fad, some people looked into their crystal balls and shrewdly predicted that a reckoning was coming. It wouldn’t be immediate, of course. It would take time for young people to realize they’d been screwed over. And it would take courage. Lots and lots of courage.
Over the past few years, a number of women have displayed that courage, coming forward to tell their stories and sue the medical professionals who harmed them. A few men have as well. But many more women than men.
This shouldn’t be surprising. Statistically, men are also more reluctant than women to report sexual assault, which also requires a great deal of courage for both sexes. But for men, it carries an extra weight of shame. The same is true when it comes to identifying as a victim of transgender “medicine.” Like telling one’s rape story, it’s not easy for anyone. But it will always be easier for a woman to stand up and say, “I thought I was a bro” than it is for a man to stand up and say, “I thought I was a sissy.”
The new free documentary Lost Boys: Searching for Manhood spotlights five young men who have decided to tell their stories. Alex, Brian, Njada, Ritchie, and Torren come from a variety of backgrounds. No two of their stories are exactly the same. Each is like a fingerprint, unique to the storyteller. But all five men have something in common: courage.
Their stories are interwoven with reflections from two therapists, Joe Burgo and Az Hakeem, and Irish writer-activist Graham Linehan (who lost his reputation, family, and career after publicly opposing trans ideology). Linehan doesn’t have very much screentime, but his presence is a sad reminder that we’re dealing with a top-down cultural contagion, enforced by people with enough power to completely demolish someone’s social capital.
There is also a sixth young man whom we never see. Instead, we see his father, Steven. Steven tells us how the boy “came out” transgender in his senior year of high school, walked away, and has never come back. He remains “lost.” “The last thing I think about in a day is my son,” Steven says, “and first when I wake up, before I’m even out of bed.”
Although each story is unique, there are certain recurring patterns. One running theme is that the men in these boys’ lives often seemed to be either absent, predatory, or weak. This is not a grand unifying theory. There’s Steven, after all, apparently a loving and present father who reports that he and his wife were “blindsided.” But it ties several stories together. Ritchie Herron, a young Englishman, only ever talks about his “mum” showing up to appointments with him and being pressured to make decisions. But he found plenty of men willing to enfold him into a “community” online. These men, of course, were predatory.
Meanwhile, Torren grew up in a blue-collar American subculture where the men occupied themselves with a narrow range of “manly” interests (cars, beer, hunting), while the women, in his words, “ran the show.” Similarly, Njada’s father tried to push his son towards “manly” interests and tasks, but when Njada drifted into gender confusion, he ironically failed to “man up” to his own wife. Njada recalls how she instantly took the driver’s seat and began to insist, “You better use the pronouns.” Like the women in Torren’s world, she was definitely running the show. These two stories are particularly interesting, because they complicate simplistic narratives of “toxic masculinity.” If anything, they evoke a world in which men become absorbed in “manly” pursuits while simultaneously failing to embody masculine leadership in the home. Thus lacking immediate models of how to be their own distinct selves while still being healthy men, these boys sought guidance from the broader culture. But as they discovered, that broader culture of teachers, therapists, and influencers was not going to help them become healthy men. Quite the opposite.
In the film, Joe Burgo proposes a nuanced third way for how men can properly lead and nurture misfit boys—neither by questioning their manhood if they diverge from rigid norms of masculinity, nor by “problematizing” all distinctly masculine traits, a trend which he believes has increased male depression. If boys do in fact like distinctly “boyish” things, that should be fine. If they don’t, that should also be fine.
I once discussed this in person with Burgo at a cocktail party in Washington. When I asked him what he thought of Richard Reeves’ book Of Boys and Men, which is generally sympathetic to the plight of boys, he said he still disagreed with Reeves’ idea of nudging boys towards more “feminine” trades—teaching, nursing, etc. As a disclaimer, I still need to read Reeves for myself, but I agree that particular idea isn’t going to solve the masculinity crisis. As I put it to Joe, it’s less urgent to mix up more statistically feminine trades and more urgent to re-dignify masculine trades. Here Joe looked up with a little smile, very taken with this, and said, “One thousand per cent.”
The other featured therapist, Az Hakeem, is also very concerned about the masculinity crisis, and he makes a further connection to the co-factor of autism. He’s consistently observed that young male patients on the spectrum followed a certain rigid chain of logical reasoning, based on their tendency to create rigid categories: “To be male, you have to be like this, this, and this. I’m not like this, therefore I’m non-male. Therefore I must be female.” Burgo adds the observation that autistic young people will struggle more than average with the changes their body undergoes in puberty, more likely to feel disgust or a desire to disassociate from who they’re physically becoming.
Several of the young men in this film are themselves either on the autism spectrum or, relatedly, on the OCD spectrum. Depression and anxiety are also recurring themes, as is p*rnography addiction. Yet the “professionals” who should have cared for them bypassed all these cofactors and glibly promised that everything would be “solved” not by treating their mental health, not by quitting p*rn, but by female hormones. All of them took estrogen, though Brian, Njada, and Torren seem to have reversed their process before pursuing surgery. Njada recalls how the therapist he sought out in college informed him that “transition is the typical treatment that makes people feel satisfied with their life.”
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The Immanuel Principle: Foreshadowing the Incarnation in the Old Testament
Another expression of the Immanuel Principle is our hope of our eternal residence with God in heaven; God himself is our eternal dwelling. Between Eden and the Incarnation, the Immanuel Principle was God’s intent, as evidenced in his appearances to man through OT theophanies. Through these appearances we see Christ Himself, manifested through revelations and visions. The OT theophanies reveal to us the God the promises of the onewho would come and dwell with us.
Introduction: The Immanuel Principle
If we tend to think of “Immanuel: God with us” mostly at Christmas, a deeper study will show it to be a core concept throughout Scripture. As some have explained: ‘The Immanuel Principle’ is God’s intent to be with us and His creation. Understanding and appreciating the Immanuel Principle is one of the reasons why we celebrate the Christmas season. Even though Christmas observance is not scripturally mandated, we should celebrate God’s intent for us to know that he is with us through Christ’s incarnation. It is the core of our Christian hope.
The Immanuel Principle is first seen right at the beginning of God’s revelation in the Garden of Eden as God walked and fellowshipped with man in the cool of the evening. When man’s sin broke his communion with God, His still intended to be with us. Through the incarnation he would show Himself to man, to resolve and remove the sin that had necessitated the separation. As God told Moses, “No one can see my face and live” ( Ex. 33:20).
In Christ’s incarnation we would look on Christ and live, in the same way as Israel did when many were bitten by deadly serpents in the wilderness; Moses was instructed to place a serpent made of brass on a pole so any who looked at it would be healed and live (Num 21/Jn 3: 14-16). This anticipates the unmistakable divine providence pointing to the cross of Christ.
Another expression of the Immanuel Principle is our hope of our eternal residence with God in heaven; God himself is our eternal dwelling. Between Eden and the Incarnation, the Immanuel Principle was God’s intent, as evidenced in his appearances to man through OT theophanies. Through these appearances we see Christ Himself, manifested through revelations and visions. The OT theophanies reveal to us the God the promises of the onewho would come and dwell with us.
The God Who Sees Finds Hagar (Gen 16)
In the OT world, Hagar was a least of the least position. As an Egyptian slave woman, and surrogate mother for Abraham’s family at Sarah’s insistence, Sarah came to despise Hagar even though she gave Abraham a son. Sarah chased Hagar out of the house through her hostile treatment. Gen 16:7 tells us, “The angel of the LORD” went and found her by a spring of water in the desert wilderness.
The Angel of the LORD asked her a question: “Where are you coming from, and where are you going?” The Angel also promised, “I’ll give you offspring unable to be numbered,” beginning with the child she was now carrying. Only God Himself could make such a promise.
The text reveals no fear in Hagar of this Angel; the conversation with Him appears quite normal to Hagar. He appeared ordinary to Hagar, much as Christ in His incarnation “has no majesty or beauty that He would stand out” (Isa 53). During his earthly ministry, people spoke with the Christ, the God-man, “as a man speaks with his friend.” The Gen. 16:13 account tells us Hagar called the name of the LORD who spoke to her “El Roy,” that is, “You are a God of seeing,” for she knew, “Truly here I have seen him who looks after me.”
While the omnipresent Father sees and knows all, He wants us to know that He knows and sees. It is the Incarnate Christ who tells us, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me” (John 10:27). As Hagar said, “I have seen him who sees me.” God sees us as “in Christ.” God cares for us in the Person of Christ, who loved us and gave Himself up for us” ( Eph. 5:2).
Jacob Wrestles with God…and Wins (Gen 32)
If God’s appearance to Abraham (in Gen 18, the promised birth of Isaac to Sarah) reveals a God and Savior who keeps His promises, the appearance of Christ to Jacob even more clearly reveals a Savior who shows us God, not only in His holiness, but in His mercy.
Jacob had run from Esau, his brother, having deceived their father to steal Esau’s birthright. He had gone to his relative Laban in a far country. Eventually, he wore out his welcome there, too, both men agreeing to set up a pile of stones that neither would by-pass, to harass each other. Jacob was anticipating the reunion with Esau, going so far as to prepare for battle by dividing his family and possessions into two separate caravans.
In this fearful mood, Jacob would encounter the pre-incarnate Christ. Having sent even his wives away, Jacob spent the night alone. As the Scripture tells us, he wrestled all that night with “a man,” a physical confrontation with an incarnate being, of some sort. The two fought to a draw, eventually the Christ- figure damaging Jacob’s thigh socket to break free from his grip.
Even then, Jacob demanded God’s blessing and received it. Christ changed Jacob’s name to Israel saying, “You have striven with God, and have prevailed.” We too have prevailed with God, through the Person of Christ. Later, Jacob summed up the encounter, “I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered.”
In addition to Christ’s encounter with Hagar that revealed Him to be the one who cares for us, Jacob’s encounter with Christ reveals Him to be the One who shows us God and yet we live, not just in this lifetime but forever. As Christ said, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9). In the person of Christ, we see God, and since Christ paid the penalty for our sin we receive life.
Manoah’s Barren Wife: The Sacrifice for Sin that Saves (Judges 13)
In biblical history, as man’s sin deepens, The Immanuel Principle becomes more essential, and in the case of Manoah’s wife, more detailed. While many OT theophanies can leave out details that render the historic account somewhat ambiguous, perhaps no theophany reveals more about the incarnate Christ than this, to Manoah’s wife. During the time of the Judges, Israel had again fallen into great sin, and God had again sent the Philistines to draw them back to Himself.
Manoah was from the tribe of Dan; his wife was barren. Judges 13: 3 tells us the Angel of the LORD appeared to her alone with a message: “You shall conceive and bear a son.” If this rings familiar, recall Isa 7: 14 and Luke 1:31, both foretelling the virgin birth of Christ. Manoah’s wife was instructed to commit to the Nazarite vow of no alcohol or eating unclean animals, as this son would “begin to save Israel from the Philistines,” to save Israel from the consequences of their sin.
This too would find a greater Immanuel Principle fulfillment. As a virgin, Mary would bear a son, and was told to call His name Jesus, for He would fully “save His people from their sins.” After a while, it occurred to Manoah this Angel of the LORD was God Himself, for he said to his wife, “We shall surely die, for we have seen the LORD.”
But her response was insightful, and theologically brilliant. She replied: “If the LORD had meant to kill us, he would not have accepted a burnt offering and a grain offering at our hands, or shown us all these things, or now announced to us such things as these” (13: 23). She knew about the purpose of sacrifices, what Isaiah would also tell Israel hundreds of years later, of the Incarnate Christ on the cross, “He shall see the anguish of His soul, and be satisfied.” Christ was the intent and fulfillment of all the OT sacrifices, the one sacrifice that would fully satisfy the Father.
After the construction of the Tabernacle, and later the Temple, the theophanies would largely cease, for God was dwelling among them. It would take the Incarnation, that greatest of miracle of all, to show us all that God intended us to know about his dwelling with us.
Before the birth of Jesus, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream saying:
“Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins. All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us) (Matt 1: 20).
The incarnation of Christ demonstrates the fullness of God coming to his people to dwell with them. Jesus assures all who believe:
“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one” (John 10:27-30).
Today God is dwelling with us by His indwelling Spirit. And one glorious day, Christ will return to earth, to raise the dead with the living, “and so we will always be [dwell] with the Lord” (I Thes 4).
Mark Kozak is a Minister in the Presbyterian Church in America and is Pastor of Providence Reformed PCA in Lavalette, WV.
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