God-Bearers
The Offensive Advent Invitation
Theotokos – God Bearer
Like so much else in Christianity, Advent is offensive.
In 431 The Council of Ephesus officially declared Mary to be theotokos, the bearer or mother of God. This was a Christological assertion, a theological response to the group known as the Nestorians who denied the hypostatic union, or the belief that Jesus was both fully human and fully divine. The official declaration that Mary, a vulnerable woman, bore God into human existence – and all that this implies about God and creation – was as offensive then as it is now, not just to the Nestorians but to people from all walks of life, from all over the globe, for the past two thousand years.
Perhaps we’ve grown numb, over the span of millennia and from the re-telling of this narrative and from the commercialization of Christmas, to the shock of incarnational theology; but, today, let’s sit with Advent afresh and attend to the shattering implications.
Professors of New Testament theology, Beverly R. Gaventa and Cynthia L. Rigby, do not mince words when they reflect on the double vulnerability of God and humanity as evidenced in the incarnation of Christ:
“Remarkably, God has made possible our own participation in the coming kingdom by entering into our world and beseeching our care, our service, our friendship, and our love.”
I invite you to re-read that sentence and consider deeply whether you believe that to be true in your bones.
The incarnation of Christ was, among many other things, God’s invitation to us to care for God, serve God, befriend God, and love God.
The fact is, most of us have an internal resistance to the claim that God was incarnate, embodied, and fully present in the world. We often look at Jesus as mostly divine, refusing to really accept the level of vulnerability God submitted Godself to in being conceived, birthed, nursed, raised, taught, and led by a human woman. Protestant Christians, especially, have gone to great lengths to downplay Mary’s role in bringing forth the Christ and, in doing so, have inadvertently downplayed the Incarnation itself. And we’ve missed so much about God, ourselves, and all of creation as a result. Theologian Christopher Morse states it well:
“Human history as we have told it has usually been the story of human males, the story of the power and accomplishments (often in the name of God) of statesman, warriors, explorers, entrepreneurs, philosophers, and so on. But now in the most important event of all history the mighty male is excluded! It is a woman who is the agent of God’s work in the world and gives us the first and prime example of the proper role of human beings in relation to God and God’s work. Mary’s modest ‘Let it be done with me according to your word’ tells all of us, male and female alike, that our task is to bear witness to God’s and not our own greatness, to be the servants and not the sponsors of God’s work in the world.”
It's offensive to submit to discipleship as Mary did in her example to us: as slaves, or servants (Luke 1:38). We often prefer to think of ourselves as inherently central to God’s work in the world. Yet it’s also equally offensive to consider the God of all creation as incorporating our humanity into God’s divine rescue mission. We aren’t comfortable with God working with our imperfections in weaving together a complete Divine Story. Biblical scholar Cynthia L. Rigby, again, posits:
“The Word’s self-emptying (kenosis) is realized in Mary’s God-bearing (theotokos) and vice versa; human creativity is included in the creative work of the Creator become creature.”
God’s work of salvation was realized through Mary’s cooperation and her life’s offering of being a true disciple of Christ. We can hear the words of Zechariah 4:6 echoing here: “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of hosts.” Mary demonstrated what discipleship means, as Beverly Gaventa notes, in living with vulnerability, reflecting with care on the Advent of Christ, and witnessing God’s actions in the world. Likewise, as we follow her example, we become God-Bearers too. This is the offensive tension of true discipleship:
We are far less important to God’s work than our egos would like to acknowledge, and far more important to God’s work than our imaginations have capacity to understand.
Can you see how comprehensively offensive this tension is for us? In my work as a doctor of the church, I’ve encountered this offense from both sides. For many people, they come to church/religion/spirituality to be affirmed in their self-importance. They want God on their own terms. They believe they should be able to define who they are, what is their purpose, and how they will live out the minutes they’ve been given on this earth. They reject any notion that there is a God to whom they are held accountable. These folks are the products of the consumeristic, individualistic, self-obsessed culture in which they’ve been immersed since birth.
They believe in the power and might of self to accomplish what is quite impossible.
On the other hand, there are people who come to church/religion/spirituality to project their fears and self-hatred onto God and others. They also want God on their own terms, but these are terms of control and dominance that make them feel as if they are on the “right” side of a battle between good and evil. They erect a frightening and demoralizing God from their own imaginations. They believe they should be able to judge, condemn, sort people/events/circumstances into easy categories and isolate the “clean” from the “unclean.” These folks are the products of Western thinking, cognitive bias, and a mutilated image of God they inherited from others who were fearful and self-hating too.
They believe in the power and might of external control to accomplish what is quite impossible.
The offensive truth is that both paradigms are shattered by Advent.
Jesus shared DNA and a body with Mary, a vulnerable woman. He was born through her body, nursed, and protected by her body. Though he was God’s Son, He lived in submission to Joseph and Mary while he grew up (Luke 2:51) and learned obedience through suffering as a human in a body (Hebrews 5:8). God did not choose this path, or favor these people, because any of them earned it, or because there was any deep magic in walking around in a body, but because God intended to demonstrate that absolutely nothing – no matter how offensive it might be to our human sensibilities – is impossible with God (Luke 1:37). It is not because we are qualified, powerful, or uniquely special that God includes us in this story. It is not because we are righteous, holy, or perfect that we are recipients of this impossible grace.
Not by power, nor by might, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts.
Because our paradigms must be shattered so that we can comprehend the truth, God came as a human baby through the body of a vulnerable woman. Because new wine cannot be poured into old wineskins, God devastated our cognitive categories and crossed every boundary.
Because God wants Creation to birth God into the world in every conceivable way, in every single moment, in all possible circumstances, and in every particular soul, God has deemed us theotokos too. Because God is faithful to us, and to everything God has created ex amore, or out of love, this baffling salvation has come to us through the mysteries of a woman, a manger, a cross, and a tomb.
As baffling, mysterious, and offensive as we may be, we are God-bearers, you and I, when we choose to accept the mission.
We may always ask, along with Mary, how can this be? (Luke 1:34) because the invitation is an impossible one. Yet, we can also echo Mary’s assent as well: “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).
AMEN!! ♥️