Imprint of the Invisible: Treasuring the Deity & Humanity of Christ at Christmas
My friend’s baby registry was full of what you would expect. As I shopped for her shower, I browsed past a sound machine, blankets, wraps, and a tiny bathtub. I clicked on the one thing that I knew her husband, a soccer junkie, must have chosen: the 3-6 month Liverpool Premier League Futbol Jersey onesie. Upon opening my present, he happily suggested that they bring the baby home from the hospital in this particular outfit. My friend was unsure, but I loved imagining a tiny human in such official gear that represented power and performance.
Even when they are decked out in a power outfit, newborns’ fragility is striking, their dependency almost frightening. Tiny hands jerk and move. Eyes that cannot see across the room search for a near and familiar face. Their presence softens us, hushes us. We instinctively know that these miniature people deserve special attention and care. They must be protected and guarded, listened to, and cherished.
This is how Jesus came to earth and to us. He was delicate and weak. He was hungry and vulnerable, just as our babies are. But don’t mistake his fragility for a lack of deity. This baby, wrapped in strips of linen by the teenage girl and placed in a feeding trough, wasn’t like my friends’ future soccer fan. Yes, he was fully human. He ate, slept, and experienced pain and need just as other babies. But baby Jesus’s divinity was just as real as his weakness. His power had not been diminished. It had only been concealed as the Word took on flesh.
Who was this baby?
The baby we celebrate in the Christmas season every year was none other than God himself, the second person of the Trinity. While we can easily understand that this baby was like us in his humanity, our minds stretch and struggle to comprehend the power and authority of God in such a small package. We watch our babies coo and yawn, nap and burp, and grapple with the idea that the God of the universe did the same. And yet the Bible clearly spells out Jesus’s true nature in the first chapter of Hebrews. “He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power” (Hebrews 1:3). How is this possible?
This verse serves as our lens for beholding the baby in the manger. It helps us understand the true majesty and mystery of the one who left heaven to come to earth. First, this baby is the “radiance of the glory of God.” Old Testament Israel had experienced the glory of God as it settled on Sinai, when the Ten Commandments were given to Moses. They saw God’s glory again when he descended in a cloud on the tabernacle. But in the incarnation, the glory of God came even nearer. Instead of up on a mountain (which the people were afraid to approach) or inside the tabernacle (which had to be evacuated because of the glory cloud), God was finally approachable. Humanity could touch, hug, and hear this one who displayed the splendor of God on earth. In Jesus, God was with his people in the most intimate way ever known.
In the next phrase of Hebrews 1:3, the word translated “imprint” originally referred to a tool used to engrave and then to the mark made by the tool. Think of the impression of someone’s face on a coin—the exact imprint of the image used to make it. In the same way, Jesus is the exact representation of God the Father. He is the way that we see the image of God—his form, his likeness. If we want to know what the invisible God is like, this passage tells us we only need to look at Jesus.
As if those descriptions were not enough, the author of Hebrews goes on to tell us that Jesus “upholds the universe by the word of his power.” This reminds us of Colossians 1:17: “He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” Jesus is the sustainer of all things. He holds everything from the planets to the molecules together in place, directing and governing the workings of the cosmos for his own pleasure and purposes. He is intimately involved in every moment and movement of his world.
But wasn’t he a baby? And don’t we learn later that this baby had to grow up as we do, learning obedience, submitting to his parents, and living within human limitations? Absolutely. Which makes the cloaking of his divinity while on earth even more astounding. Jesus never lost his deity but instead concealed it for a while, adding humanity for purposes of saving us. In other words, he chose, for a short time and for our good, to not exercise his full capabilities as God. He humbled himself. The son of God, who holds the universe together, chose to limit himself for a short bit of history. Instead of using all his power while here on earth, he gave up the privilege of using his divine attributes. Why would he do such a thing?
We only need to read the next two verses in Colossians to understand why Jesus would put aside such privilege for us: “For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross” (Colossians 1:19-20). Jesus came to die on a cross. The second person of the Trinity put aside not only his place of endless bliss in heaven, but also his use of divine attributes for us. Because he loves us. He would slowly make his way to a cross, in order that we might be reconciled to God.
We can ponder these things as we think about that baby in the manger. He didn’t just wear a logo of strength across his chest like my tiny friend in the futbol onesie; he carried divine power and perfect performance within his very nature. So while we enjoy the sweet thoughts of his infant fragility, let’s also consider his humility. Let’s remember this season what he joyfully and willingly put aside in order that we might one day see his glory up close and know in fullness his magnificent beauty.
