God’s Journey to Bethlehem

"The father of the righteous shall greatly rejoice; and he that begets a wise child shall have joy of him."—Proverbs 23:24

Richard Kindig

The same night that Joseph and Mary were searching for a place for the birth of the Messiah, the heavenly Father was on a journey too. It was an emotional journey that God embarked upon before time began; one that led our Creator to walk with his Son along dark paths: through places like Bethlehem, Jerusalem, and Golgotha. The nativity is a story that contains elements of heroic love, saving faith, and untarnished victory; yet its twists and turns give evidence of a God who, in choosing a pathway of humility for his Son, was not seeking the development of any character qualities he did not already possess himself. (See Psa. 113.)

The Father is Greater than Jesus

God and Jesus are not equal; they are indeed a Father and a Son, who shared in a profoundly satisfying and evolving two-way relationship. Though Jesus emphatically stated that "the Father is greater than I," the dominant school of thought in Christian circles today is that God and Jesus are not only one in spirit, methods, and purposes but they are one and the same: "co-equal and co-eternal." The Bible differs with this Trinity concept. It is true that all the fullness —the effulgence and imprimatur—of deity dwelt upon Jesus (Col. 2:9; 1:19; Eph. 3:19) and that he proceeded forth and came from God (John 8:42). But Jesus is not God. He stated that he is inferior (John 10:29; 14:28); he worshiped God; he prayed to God (John 11:41, 42; 17:1-26); he submitted to God; he called upon God for help with things he could not do himself; he accepted God’s will as his own; he affirmed that God heard his prayers; and unlike God, who must by definition be perfect in every way, Jesus was made complete as a high priest through sufferings, and learned deeper levels of obedience by the things which he suffered (Heb. 2:10; 5:8, 9). Jesus of Nazareth was just what the scriptures style him: the Only-Begotten, the Son of the Highest, the First-Born of all Creation (John 1:18; Luke 1:32; Rev. 3:14). As the son, Jesus had a tender, warm, and loving relationship with his heavenly Father (John 17). And the Bible indicates Jesus’ obedience during his human experience was a pivotal ingredient in the ultimate success of that relationship (John 10:17; Heb. 1:9).

The Human Experience Changed Jesus

The very first recorded words from Jesus’ lips affirm his relationship to his heavenly Father: "Do you not know that I must be about my Father’s business?" (See Luke 2:42-52.) His pre-occupation with his Father’s words, plans, and business discomfited his human parents and astonished the sages.

There is an amazing singleness of purpose in a boy of only twelve. But perhaps we sense more; a faint hint of surprise at the limitations of his new domain. We see an intellect far beyond a lad his age, as well as a resolute submission to the imperfect leaders and guides of his life (note verse 51); yet perhaps even his gentle questions seemed threatening to his elders. If the young Jesus felt occasional surprise or disappointment with his parents and rabbis, he gradually gained gracefulness in his manner of dealing with the people around him, for the account states that as Jesus grew to maturity, he grew not only in stature but also in wisdom; and he grew in favor, not only with men but even with God (verse 52).

On the day of Jesus’ death, the second thing Jesus said while on the cross was: "Madame, behold thy son" [referring to John]; and then to John, "Behold thy mother." To nurture the troubled faith of Mary and to provide her with true comfort at a time when a sword was piercing her soul (see Luke 2:35), Jesus arranged for her comfort and peace before he completed his Father’s business on the cross (cf. John 19:28-30).

During Jesus’ earthly life, a profound tenderness and care of others perfumes his every word and deed. Though the above references indicate conflict with his kinsfolk and a measure of opposition, he bore their ambivalence graciously. He wisely used every opportunity to increase their faith and waited for the outworking of events and the heavenly Father’s time to prove himself in their eyes. (See John 2:4; 7:3-10; Mark 3:21, 31; 6:1-6; 1 Cor. 15:7; Acts 1:14; 1 Cor. 9:5 for insights into Jesus’ dealings with his kin.)

When Jesus cried, "It is finished," and then, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit," we see more patience, more trust, more obedient reliance upon God—a riper, fuller fruit—than we glimpsed when Jesus was a boy. If so, then perhaps we can comprehend the explicit statement of the scriptures, that Jesus learned the meaning of obedience by the things which he suffered. He was made perfect along spiritual lines by experiences developing character. Even as the glorious Logos, it had not been possible to attain such perfection or obedience (Heb. 2:10).

If we thus see progression in the character of Jesus, the increasing attainment of a depth of perfect obedience throughout his walk, we can understand what it means to be in the "likeness of sinful flesh" (Rom. 8:3), yet engaged in a relationship as a Son of the Highest.

From that vantage point, we can take comfort in our own walk as sons of God through Christ; and we can better understand what it meant to God that fateful night as he saw his Only-Begotten Son lying in a manger: so small, so weak, and so incomplete.

What It Means to be a Father

The most exalted relationship, the one most like God’s relationship with his creatures, is the parent/child relationship. It is the only relationship in which the first person brings the second person into existence. It is the blend of different relationships at various times reflecting elements of master/slave, doctor/patient, teacher/student, and finally, fellow-to-fellow.

The benefits that come to parents are subtle and philosophical. They include the ability to pass along to the child intelligence and manners, to oversee the progress of the child in character and powers, and the development of a lifelong fellowship.

In the nature of things, a parent must take the longer view, must lead in love and commitment, must be the truly selfless one, and must wait. Parents must be patient. They must let go if they want the object of their love to return. They must postpone many personal goals and give a high priority to the meeting of their children’s needs.

All Things are by Jesus and for Jesus

We are emphatically and repeatedly told in such texts as Colossians 1:16, 17 that our Lord Jesus existed from before the material creation. Jesus is to be recognized as the agent of creation: the world was made by him (John 1:10). God prepared the ages "by means of" him (Heb. 1:2). There is "one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things" (1 Cor. 8:6). Jesus is also to be recognized as the heir of creation: "all things were made for him" (Col. 1:16). "He is the heir of all things" (Heb. 1:2). "God has graciously given him a name above every name" (Phil. 2:9). "It pleased the Father that in him should all fullness dwell" (Col. 2:9). God desired the pleasure of seeing his only son deserve and receive the praise of the entire intelligent universe. Thus God developed and tested his son to prove his worthiness of such an exaltation.

Simply providing a perfect environment is not enough. The fall of Satan proves that even a knowledge of God and enjoying perfection of being and perfection of surroundings does not shield anyone from the sprouting of sin from within. (See Ezek. 28:12-19.) We must conclude that if Satan—apparently the third being in the universe—had the freedom and potential to sin, the second being did too.

Before the Beginning

Jesus has, from the beginning of time, been the personification of God’s wisdom. (Cf. Matt. 23:34 with Luke 11:49. See also 1 Cor. 1:24, 30.) As the Only Begotten, he came to know the mind of God long before he saw the actual creative operations of God.

The psalmist (103:7) records that Moses was let in on God’s "ways"—his plans, character and principles that constitute the reason for his acts —while the nation saw the acts alone. The Bible describes the Logos’ intimate fellowship with God in similar terms: "Jehovah created me in the beginning of his ways, before his works of old" (Prov. 8:22). Since the son was brought into being "in the beginning of his ways," we surmise that there was a significant time spent in consultation on the ways themselves.

Goals, objectives, principles, imaginings, methodologies, strategies—all were worked out in counsel together, Father and Son. And just as in earthly parenting, the finest rewards spring from those moments of inspiration, when the child leaps to a realization, internalizes a principle, reflects a value we hold dear, so with the heavenly Father. The pre-human Jesus was God’s daily delight; and the son rejoiced too —always (Prov. 8:30).

Among the many issues to be discussed, before the works began, would have been the specific creatures slated for creation. How would they be designed; what characteristics would each species demonstrate? We can imagine scenes in which the weighty moral lessons that need to be taught to all intelligent creatures were discussed and embodied in the design of specific creatures, such as lambs and goats, eagles and doves, lions and serpents.

The nature of freedom among the moral beings was surely the topic of many a discussion. What shall we do when sin arises? How shall we respond? Where shall we contain the rebellion?

Whatever the process by which these early decisions were made, it is clear from God’s word that the main details were settled before the first hammer of creative work was raised. They agreed there would need to be a perfect human sacrifice and therefore he must come from the heavenly courts to earth and pay the ultimate price; since that servant of universal redemption could not be the immortal God himself, it would have to be his Son. (See Isaiah 6.)

Armed with this knowledge and braced by this commitment, the mortar-bags of matter were broken, the ingredients were stirred, and the construction began.

First to be created, even before the material construction, were the infrastructure of heavenly messengers. Lucifer was among the first, if not the very first, of these.

Long before Lucifer set up his rebellion in Eden, however, there were eons of creative work, in which the Logos was groomed for his future role of sharing the divine throne. No doubt the angels, including Lucifer, were given a prominent role in carrying out the material creation under the guidance of the Father/Son team; we know they sang for joy when in the course of time the foundations of the earth were laid (Job 38:4-7).

When the "heavens and earth were finished" (Gen. 2:1), a new phase began: the moral development of all intelligent creatures. For the angels, the excitement of creation gave way to the routine of administration, and apparently politics and pride led to the fall of Satan and many other angels. The time for the planned sacrifice loomed closer. And with it, the pain that God himself would have to experience drew near as well.

God’s Sacrifice Typified by Abraham

We catch a glimpse of the heavenly Father’s outlook in the allegory God arranged through the life of Abraham. We can be sure that after waiting 100 years to have a son of promise, Abraham lavished love and attention upon the boy. Isaac was the apple of his eye, and the aged father must have relished every minute. Abraham’s son, like God’s, was a daily delight.

Then came the shattering realization that the boy would need to be offered. The boy knew that a sacrifice was to be made. The father walked for three days, carrying his own deeper knowledge of what that meant in his soul. His grieving had already begun, because in his mind he saw the boy slain already.

In Abraham’s case, only his reasoned hope of a resurrection allowed him to be obedient to God’s strange request. The allegory cannot demonstrate God’s inherent poise and confidence, as the one who knew the end from the beginning and has the power to work all things after the counsel of his own will. But we believe it is significant that God caused it to be written twice that as Abraham and Isaac approached the altar, "they went both of them together" (Gen. 22:6, 8). God was Jesus’ companion in creation, in Bethlehem, and at Golgotha.

We know that Jesus, who was not spared as Isaac was, suffered to the ultimate degree. Like Isaac, he had to carry the wood. Yet God suffered together with his son, for he held in his own hands, in symbolic terms, the fire and the knife.

Jesus said that his Father had expressly told him that no one could take his life; if it was to be sacrificed, it would have to be Jesus’ own choice. "I have power to lay it down, and I have power to receive it again" (John 10:17, 18). So when Jesus allowed himself to be crucified, his righteousness placed him into God’s hands. It was separation from God that provoked Jesus’ anguished cry, "My God, My God, Why hast Thou forsaken me?"* And it was God who, like Abraham, wielded the knife which shed Jesus’ earthly life. (See Psa. 39:9. Compare also God’s claim of responsibility for Job’s afflictions: Job 1:12; 2:3). No other power could have taken the innocent life of the spotless Lamb.

Though in one sense it was men and demons who took Jesus’ life, in another very important sense it was God who "spared not his own son, but delivered him up for us all" (Rom. 8:32). And "together with" God at the altar, it was Jesus who also "delivered up" his own soul (John 19:30). They were partners in creation, they were partners in life; and in order to be partners in redemption, they became partners at the altar of Jesus’ death.

God’s Sacrifice at Bethlehem

It is humbling indeed to realize that the child of a King was born into poverty, in relatively unsanitary conditions and forced to flee for his life while still an infant. Jesus’ sacrifice to come here as a baby was awe-inspiring.

God made enormous sacrifices also. For the first time God lost the companionship of his son. God was alone before his son was created and now he was personally apart from his son for the 30 plus years of Jesus’ earthly life.

God also sacrificed in the sense that while legions of angels might shadow Jesus, the divine program was that these angels should not be called upon; if no food was available, Jesus would have to go hungry; and whatever man suffered Jesus would have to suffer. (See John 4:6.)

God undoubtedly suffered most at the arrogance of the wicked who encountered Jesus and the slowness of heart of his friends (cf. Acts 9:5). God looks for opportunities to show himself strong on behalf of those with perfect hearts (2 Chron. 16:9). Here was a righteous one who went for years with little outward evidence of the favor of God.

The sacrifice of God which looms largest, however, was the piercing pain when, to bring Jesus’ work to completion, he allowed his son to die. We cannot agree with our evangelical friends who claim that God consumed Jesus on the cross with "the anger of a billion Hells"! No, God did not show hate toward Jesus and no scriptural logic would indicate such a frightful idea. God simply hid his face from Jesus, just as he did from Adam when he sinned in the garden of Eden (Gen. 3:8). It was necessary for Jesus to experience alienation in order to become an "offering for sin" and to be tempted in all points, just as we are.* But for the holy, righteous God, who loved Jesus more than poet can describe or mind can imagine, to turn his face away while his son hung, naked and suffering, on a cross—well, the universe might as well have been turned upside-down.

To give us just a glimpse of how he felt, God sent darkness across the land; he caused the earth itself to quake; he totally disrupted the feverish slaying of lambs that was in process at the temple; and he brought dead bodies out of the tombs as a witness to the returning crowds. (See Matthew 27:51-54. Carefully analyzed, the original language reveals that the bodies in the tombs were not resurrected or reanimated but simply exposed to the view of the returning crowds.)

The other great work of God occurred just three days later, before the laughter of God’s demonic enemies had even died down. God, who had created the billions of galaxies, now used his mighty power and raised his son from the dead—to a nature equal with his own (cf. Psa. 8:3 with Eph. 1:19, 20).

Glory to God in the Highest

Sometimes as we contemplate the greatness of God we envision a being with little emotion and with such grand superfluous power that every action would be easy and every plan would be the result of cold calculation. The story of Jesus’ life on earth paints a different picture. It shows us that when God undertook to create, teach, redeem, and restore the human race he was not attempting something easy; not easy for us, not easy for his son, and not easy for himself.

The scriptures reveal an emotional God, committed in love, with a willingness to allow his most precious possession to be born in a manger, to be crucified, and to show his sacrificial love for the lowly and undeserving human race. The sacrifices of God and Jesus must never be minimized; our very life depends on our appreciation of these divine gifts and benefits. God’s grace and love, expressed by himself and by Christ, will always outweigh the praise and obedience the Father and Son will one day receive from God’s family in heaven and in earth (Eph. 1:3-10).

* Editors’ Note: The application of this text is open to two interpretations. Some take it just as written, implying a withdrawal of God’s communication with his son for a short time on the cross. Others interpet it merely as an identification with the twenty-second Psalm, from whence it is q uoted. The editors of this journal are divided in their opinions and leave it to the readers to determine the correct thought for themselves.