Again, the Anabaptists provide a good model for us to consider. For them, the Body of Christ was the practical extension of the incarnation of its Head by every individual member, educated or uneducated. By contrast, Luther and Calvin saw the solidarity between Jesus and his followers in the offices of the church rather than in the lives of every member. The true church, for them, is one where the Word is correctly preached and the sacraments properly administered. These assumptions I find nowhere in the New Testament. Theology is a practical discipline to be engaged in not only by academic professionals but by all true disciples. Paul’s vision of church life, as we have noted already, entails Christians being involved with each other in mutual service, help, and support. Passivity and spectatorism are simply never envisioned by the apostle. According to Matthew 28:19-20, the first concern of theological education is to be mission at the local church level and mission that affects obedience to all of Jesus’ commands. Otherwise, theology will remain a square peg in a round hole. The type of contextualized theology that I am speaking of does not permit a split between academy and church, between thought and action, between truth and practice. Missions lies at the heart of the theological endeavor. Yet our theological curriculum, ostensibly designed to teach us to minister as Jesus and his apostles did, tends to ignore this vital dimension. It is perhaps unfortunate that “missions” has become firmly established as a theological specialization in our seminaries. Dealing with missions is a “must” in every theological curriculum.
8:20 AM With a baby bottle in one hand and a baby goat in the other, it’s easy to think about what took place at the incarnation. When God became man He didn’t do so as a king, aloof and invincible. “He became a little baby thing/that made a woman cry” (George MacDonald). Christ took our nature and accepted our limitations, exposing Himself to our temptations and experiencing the full bitterness of our sorrows. He lived our life and died our death. A newborn goat can’t rise to your heights. You must stoop to its depths. And that’s precisely what Christmas — our “Incarnation Festival” — represents. Jesus became one of us without any loss of His own identity. He descended fully into our human reality. He who had been the Creator of the universe became a creature. He who threw the stars into space was now wrapped so tightly in swaddling clothes He couldn’t even move His own arms. He who was the Word of God was now speechless except for the cries of a newborn infant. And He on whom all things depended was now dependent upon His earthly mother and father. Then, when He grew up and matured into manhood, He changed the rules of the game forever by insisting that He was the only way to God. And so He demanded from His followers their total allegiance and even promised them that such allegiance could cost them everything, even separation from their earthly families. The baby that was born to two Jews in a stinky barn eventually grew up to become my Savior and my Lord, and, I hope, yours too.
Today churches will be filled to capacity with people who’ve come to hear the Christmas story again. I will be among them. But I must never forget that the baby grew up, and that today He does more than drool and coo.
