In this post, I will further discuss the second part of chapter 5 of Ware’s book, The Orthodox Way, “God as Man,” which focuses on the mystery of the incarnation and all that it entails. After emphasizing that the Incarnation was ultimately about God effecting the next stage of man’s journey from being a creature made in God’s image to that of a true human being who bears God’s likeness, Ware briefly summarizes the issues related to understanding the Incarnation that were addressed in the first seven ecumenical councils. When all of these are understood together, Ware says that they all boil down to two basic principles concerning our salvation: (1) Only God can save us, and (2) Salvation must reach the point of human need.
Thus, the Christian message of salvation can be summed up in terms of sharing. By fully sharing in who we are, Christ “makes it possible for us to share in what he is, in his divine life and glory. He became what we are, so as to make us what he is” (74). This is what Orthodox Christianity means by theosis, or deification. Ware puts it this way: “To be deified is…to be ‘christified’: the divine likeness that we are called to attain is the likeness of Christ” (74).
In order for this to be possible, God has to identify Himself with the human beings at their most basic level, what we can call at their fallen level. That is why Christ didn’t just take on a human body, as if He was God in a human costume, but He took on a human spirit, mind, and soul. Not only that, but He assumed fallen human nature. Ware emphasizes that Christ was not a sinful person, but he accepted the consequences of Adam’s (mankind’s) sin. Ware states that in order for God’s salvation to reach to the point of human need, that meant that Christ had to share in solidarity with mankind at that sinful and fallen point of human need.
Why a Virgin Birth?
The issue of the virgin birth is often a controversial one. The focus of the controversy, not surprisingly, tends to focus on the biological question: How is that even possible? To that, the early Church Fathers simply chalked it up to a mystery. Another related, but wrong, assumption sometimes is that Mary had to be a virgin, because if Jesus had been conceived the “old-fashioned way” by sex, that would then mean he was somehow sinful. This assumption derives from the faulty Augustinian notion of original sin, that says by engaging in sex and finding it pleasurable, Adam and Eve (and every human couple, for that matter) literally conceived their children in the midst of a sinful act, and therefore, passed on their sin to the child through it. Needless to say, nothing in the Bible ever suggests that.
Rather, Ware says that the Virgin Birth points to the uniqueness of Christ in three ways: (1) Although he was a real human being, the fact he has no earthly father means that Christ always points beyond this reality of space and time to the heavenly reality. His eternal origin points to the goal of humanity to become like God. (2) The Virgin Birth also speaks to the divine initiative of Christ’s birth. It was a direct work of God. (3) The Virgin Birth also emphasizes the fact that the Incarnation did not involve the coming into being of a new person. As War puts it, “At Christ’s birth, no new person came into existence, but the pre-existent person of the Son of God now began to live according to a human as well as a divine mode of being. So the Virgin Birth reflects Christ’s eternal pre-existence” (77).
Obedient to Death/Death as Victory
The purpose of the Incarnation, of course, was not merely for God to become man, but for God to fully share in the consequence of sinful man, namely death. In order for salvation to “work,” God had to enter into all of the human experience, even death. Now, Ware states that there are two aspects of death, physical death, in which man’s body is separated from his soul, and spiritual death, in which man’s soul is separated from God. We tend to focus solely on the physical suffering and death of Christ, but Ware reminds us that “the true meaning of the Passion is found…much more in his spiritual sufferings—in his sense of failure, isolation and utter loneliness, in the pain of love offered but rejected” (79).
The Apostle’s Creed states that after Christ suffered, was crucified, and was buried, that he “descended into hell.” Instead of picturing the very medieval caricature of hell, where Jesus goes down into literal fiery caverns, where red devils with horns lurk, Ware emphasizes that ultimately, hell is the place where God is not—it is the result of spiritual death. Therefore, “If Christ truly ‘descended into hell,’ that means he descended into the depths of the absence of God. Totally, unreservedly, he identifies himself with all man’s anguish and alienation. He assumed it into himself, and by assuming it he healed it. There was no other way he could do it, except by making it his own” (80).
Herein lies perhaps the greatest paradox and oxymoron in human history. That picture of Christ suffering on the cross, sharing in the physical and spiritual death of humanity, is the picture of ultimate victory, or as Ware puts it, the victory of suffering love. “The Cross shows us a love that is strong as death, a love that is even stronger” (81). For Christ, as a human being, shared in the human experience, not just human life, but humanity’s physical and spiritual death as well, to the point where he “descended into hell,” where God is not. Yet Christ is God—therefore, by descended to where God is not, Christ conquered hell and was victorious over death.
For this reason, Ware states, “Loving humility is a terrible force: whenever we give up anything or suffer anything, not with a sense of rebellious bitterness, but willingly and out of love, this makes us not weaker, but stronger” (82). This is most conclusively seen in Christ on the Cross—His death and His descent into hell paved the way for salvation and for man’s next stage on his spiritual journey, where we can be transformed from mere creatures into sons. For this reason, the Liturgy of St. Basil describes Christ death on the Cross as a “life-creating death.”
This should cause us to view Christ’s death on the Cross not simply as our “get out of hell for free” card. Rather, the Cross testifies that the way out of hell is the way of suffering. As Ware states, “The Son of God suffered ‘unto death,’ not that we might be exempt from suffering, but that our suffering might be like his: Christ offers us, not a way round suffering, but a way through it; not substitution, but saving companionship” (82).
Christ is Risen
For most Evangelical Christians, the empty tomb on Easter morning is the sign of Christ’s victory over death. Orthodoxy sees it a bit differently. Yes, the empty tomb on Easter Sunday is where Christ’s victory over death is made manifest, but the actual victory had already taken place on the cross on Good Friday—it has just hidden for three days. Still, Ware is quick to emphasize that it is because of the resurrection and the empty tomb that Christians need not be afraid of any dark or evil force in the universe.
In all honesty, that is easier said than done. Since we are still only “partly human,” in that we are still imperfect image-bearing creatures who are not yet fully like Christ, we are still, in our creatureliness, be afraid when suffering and evil comes our way. But the cross and empty tomb are there to reassure us what is waiting for us if we journey in faith though that suffering. Not only will Christ be waiting for us on the other side, but the Incarnation itself declares that Christ will be there, walking beside us, through our suffering. And since He is both God and Man—the theoanthropos—He has the power transform our suffering into the means of our salvation. That is what the Incarnation is all about.
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing
Dressed me up in gladness, I cannot be silent forever –James Ward
