I’m in Revelation now, which feels both familiar and strange. I’m realizing how themes and ideas from the Hebrew Bible were more developed and worked out during Jesus’ time and afterward. Most of the time I think I’m good at recognizing that I don’t know what I don’t know. Revelation is a good reminder to reflect on if I really know what I do know.
What I’ve been meditating on is something that’s in the first few opening verses, but also gets repeated throughout, “To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood and made us a kingdom, priests to his God and Father…” (Revelation 1:5b-6a, ESV) There’s a specific distinction between Jesus and God, both from John’s narrative voice and from how Jesus speaks in the narrative.
“… even as I myself have received authority from my Father.” (2:27b)
“… for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God.” (3:2b)
“… I will confess his name before my Father and before his angels.” (3:5b)
“The one who conquers, I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God. Never shall he go out of it, and I will write on him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, the new Jerusalem, which comes down from my God out of heaven, and my own new name.”
(3:12)
John’s famous opening to his gospel explains how Jesus was the Word that was from the beginning, with God, and also was God. There’s so much in there that doesn’t jive with how we would describe how things work in life. He was with God and also was God—this is in my mental category of “I know it’s true but don’t know how it’s true.” And, to be honest, I’m OK with that. I enjoy thinking about it even though I don’t understand how. But it gets wilder, right? The Word is with God, is God, and then becomes human.
We should pause here to let that sink in, since it’s the wildest idea ever. The idea that God became human is mind-blowing, perhaps too much that we can lose the significance of it, the impact of what it is. The eternal and all-everything became a created, limited, and powerless human. It was an actual and permanent change to his being and existence.
We have many stories in books, movies, and such that are sort of like this and perhaps became our working mental models, but watered down. Superman is the best example for me. He pretends to be a human named Clark, but who he is never actually changes, ever. Regardless of how he’s dressed or behaves, his actual self never changes. He is Superman—the only thing that changes is his costume.
This is completely not Jesus.
In order to save us, God didn’t come to us in human costume. He didn’t come in some suppressed version of his all-powerful self. It wasn’t temporary amnesia of divine knowledge. Jesus wasn’t a functional God trapped in a human body. He wasn’t in a probationary period before unlocking or awakening the superpowers buried within.
God became human, actually, irrevocably, and powerlessly. The language around it is metaphoric and poetic, to attempt to help our minds cope. The Word became flesh. Incarnation. Son of God to Son of Man.
What John sees and describes in visual detail in Revelation is extraordinary, magnificent, crazy, surreal, and in the eternal-God-almighty category, but Jesus is still very specific and distinct in who he is. He speaks in the context and reference to his Father, his God, and that all things are His.
It’s wild and wonderful. I totally don’t understand. I fully accept it. (Imagine the little emoji dude with his two hands in the air—that’s me. 🤷🏻)
I reflect on this, partly because it’s just awesome to think about how awesome God is, and partly because I believe it’s necessary meditation for growth. In order to save us and restore right relationship, God became one of us to bring us back to the Father. His Father. Our Father. There was never a going-back for Jesus. There should be no going back for me. Jesus walked with the Father being filled with the Spirit.