PAULA WISEMAN

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The Scandal of the Gifts

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The Scandal of the Gifts title graphic

“Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem, saying, ‘Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.’ … And going into the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh.” – Matthew 2:1-2, 11

We’ve explored how the incarnation itself was scandalous—God becoming human contradicted every expectation of divinity. We’ve seen how God’s choice of shepherds as first witnesses upended social hierarchies and credibility systems. Today, we turn to our final Christmas scandal: the extravagant gifts brought by the Magi.

At first glance, expensive gifts might not seem scandalous. After all, our culture celebrates lavish giving, especially at Christmas. But looking deeper, we discover that the Magi’s gifts represent another divine stumbling block (σκανδαλίζω/skandalizō)—another way the Christmas story challenges our assumptions and invites us into a different economy altogether.

The Mysterious Magi

Before examining their gifts, let’s consider the gift-givers themselves. The Magi (often called “wise men” or traditionally “three kings”) remain somewhat mysterious figures in the biblical narrative. Matthew tells us little about them except that they came “from the east” following a star they associated with a newborn Jewish king.

Scholars believe they were likely astrologers from Persia or Babylon—practitioners of arts forbidden to the Jews. They were Gentiles, outsiders to God’s covenant with Israel. They were probably adherents of Zoroastrianism or another eastern religion, not worshippers of Yahweh.

In short, they were unlikely participants in the Messiah’s story. Their presence itself represents another scandal of inclusion—God drawing outsiders into His redemptive narrative and accepting worship from those outside the established religious system.

The Extravagant Gifts

The Magi brought three gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. To appreciate the scandal of these gifts, we need to understand their significance:

1. Gold

Gold was then, as now, a symbol of wealth and royalty. It was a gift fit for a king, acknowledging Jesus’ royal status. But the scandal lies in the contrast—this “king” was born in humble circumstances to working-class parents, with no palace, throne, or royal trappings. The gold highlighted the disparity between Jesus’ true identity and His apparent circumstances.

2. Frankincense

This aromatic resin was used in temple worship, particularly in the incense offering that symbolized prayers ascending to God. It was associated with priesthood and divinity. Giving frankincense to a child suggested recognition of His divine nature—a scandalous claim about a human baby.

3. Myrrh

Perhaps the most unusual gift, myrrh was an embalming spice used in burial preparations. It foreshadowed Jesus’ death even at His birth. What new mother would welcome a gift symbolizing her child’s mortality? Yet this gift prophetically pointed to Jesus’ ultimate purpose—not just to live as God with us, but to die for us.

Together, these gifts tell the complete story of Jesus: the King (gold) who is God (frankincense) who will die (myrrh). They represent an extravagant acknowledgment of His full identity and mission.

The Scandal of Disproportionate Giving

The first scandal of these gifts is their disproportionate nature. By any conventional standard, these valuable items were inappropriate for a child in such humble circumstances:

  • They were impractical for a young family’s needs
  • They were disproportionate to the recipients’ social status
  • They created potential danger by drawing attention to the child
  • They crossed boundaries of propriety and expectation

This disproportionate giving challenges our carefully calibrated gift exchanges where we try to match value for value, ensuring no one gives too much or too little. The Magi gave without concern for reciprocity or appropriateness by conventional standards.

Their giving reflects God’s own disproportionate gift in Christ—a gift too valuable for our status, beyond our ability to reciprocate, and transcending the boundaries of what we might consider appropriate for our unworthiness.

The Scandal of Worship Through Giving

The text tells us the Magi “fell down and worshiped him” before presenting their gifts. This sequence is significant—their giving flowed from their worship. The gifts weren’t diplomatic gestures or social obligations but expressions of reverence and recognition.

This connection between worship and giving challenges our compartmentalized approach where we separate spiritual devotion from material resources. The Magi’s example suggests that authentic worship naturally overflows into generous giving.

As Jesus would later teach, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). The Magi demonstrated this principle—their treasure followed their hearts of worship.

The Scandal of Giving to One Who Needs Nothing

Perhaps the deepest scandal is that these valuable gifts were given to the One who, as Creator, already owned everything. As the psalmist declares, “The earth is the LORD’s and the fullness thereof” (Psalm 24:1).

This apparent paradox—giving to the Owner of all things—reveals something profound about the nature of true giving. The Magi’s gifts weren’t about meeting Jesus’ material needs but about expressing recognition, honor, and devotion.

This challenges our utilitarian approach to giving, where we primarily consider what the recipient needs or can use. The highest giving may not be about utility at all but about expressing value and relationship.

The Scandal of Divine Receptivity

Equally scandalous is that God, in Christ, received these gifts. The Creator accepted created things from His creatures. The self-sufficient One allowed Himself to be the recipient of human generosity.

This divine receptivity reveals God’s willingness to enter into reciprocal relationship with us. Though He needs nothing from us, He creates space for our participation and contribution. He not only gives to us but receives from us, honoring our gifts by accepting them.

This challenges religious systems that portray God as only a giver, never a receiver—as demanding service but never being served. The Christmas story shows a God who receives gifts with the same grace with which He gives them.

The Scandal of Provision Through Extravagance

There’s a practical epilogue to the Magi’s visit that’s easy to overlook. Shortly after they departed, Joseph was warned in a dream to flee to Egypt with Mary and Jesus to escape Herod’s murderous intentions. The family became refugees, living in a foreign land until Herod’s death.

How did this working-class family afford such a journey and extended stay abroad? Many scholars believe the Magi’s extravagant gifts—especially the gold—provided the necessary resources. What seemed impractically lavish became providentially practical.

This suggests another scandal—that what appears to be wasteful extravagance in God’s economy often serves purposes we can’t initially recognize. Like Mary’s “waste” of expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet (which He defended as a beautiful act), the Magi’s lavish gifts served a divine purpose beyond human calculation.

Living with Extravagant Generosity Today

The Magi’s example challenges us to reconsider our own giving, particularly during the Christmas season:

1. Giving that flows from worship

Do our gifts express genuine devotion, or are they merely social obligations? The Magi gave because they recognized Jesus’ worth. True generosity flows not from duty but from a heart captivated by Christ’s value.

2. Giving beyond calculation

The Magi didn’t calculate the appropriateness of their gifts based on social convention or expectation of return. They gave lavishly because the recipient deserved no less. What would it look like for us to give beyond careful calculation?

3. Giving that tells the true story

The Magi’s gifts told the story of Jesus—His kingship, divinity, and sacrificial death. Our giving can similarly tell the true Christmas story rather than reinforcing cultural narratives of consumption and indulgence.

4. Giving to those who cannot repay

While the Magi gave to Christ himself, we can give to “the least of these” whom Jesus identifies as His representatives (Matthew 25:40). Giving to those who cannot reciprocate reflects the heart of God’s own giving to us.

5. Giving that involves sacrifice

The Magi traveled a great distance at significant cost to bring their gifts. Sacrificial giving—giving that costs us something—reflects the ultimate gift of Christ who “though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9).

The Ultimate Gift Exchange

The Magi’s extravagant gifts point to the ultimate gift exchange at the heart of Christmas: God gave Himself to us so that we might give ourselves to Him.

This divine gift economy operates by different principles than transactional exchanges:

  • It begins with God’s initiative, not our merit
  • It’s motivated by love, not obligation
  • It’s characterized by abundance, not scarcity
  • It’s measured by sacrifice, not market value
  • It’s directed toward relationship, not utility

The Magi, as outsiders to Jewish tradition, somehow grasped what many insiders missed—that the appropriate response to God’s extravagant gift is extravagant giving in return.

Beyond Christmas Consumerism

In our culture, Christmas has become synonymous with consumption and acquisition. The average American will spend over $900 on Christmas gifts this year, yet many will miss the scandal of true giving that the Magi exemplify.

The antidote to Christmas consumerism isn’t necessarily spending less (though simplicity has its place) but giving differently—giving in ways that reflect the scandal of God’s extravagant gift to us:

  • Giving that honors the true worth of the recipient rather than our budget constraints
  • Giving that expresses relationship rather than obligation
  • Giving that tells the true story of Christmas rather than reinforcing cultural myths
  • Giving that flows from worship rather than social pressure

When we embrace the scandal of extravagant giving, we participate in God’s upside-down economy where value isn’t determined by market forces but by love.

The Ongoing Scandal

The Magi’s extravagant gifts represent a scandal that continues to challenge us. Their example confronts our carefully calibrated exchanges, our utilitarian approach to giving, and our separation of spiritual devotion from material resources.

Like the other Christmas scandals we’ve explored—the scandal of incarnation and the scandal of unlikely witnesses—the scandal of extravagant gifts invites us into a different way of seeing and living. It challenges us to participate in God’s economy of abundance rather than the world’s economy of scarcity and transaction.

This Christmas, perhaps we need to let ourselves be scandalized anew by the Magi’s example. Perhaps we need to ask ourselves whether our giving—of our resources, time, attention, and ultimately ourselves—reflects the extravagant nature of God’s gift to us in Christ.

For in this divine scandal lies an invitation—an invitation to give in ways that might seem foolish by conventional standards but that align with the upside-down values of God’s kingdom. An invitation to participate in the true gift exchange at the heart of Christmas: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9).

As we conclude our series on the scandals of Christmas, may we embrace rather than evade these divine stumbling blocks. May we allow the incarnation, the unlikely witnesses, and the extravagant gifts to challenge our assumptions and transform our lives. For in these scandals, we discover not just the true meaning of Christmas but the revolutionary nature of the kingdom Christ came to establish.

In a world that has domesticated Christmas into a sentimental holiday, these scandals restore its revolutionary power. They remind us that the birth we celebrate wasn’t just a sweet nativity scene but the invasion of divine love into human history—an event that upends our values, challenges our systems, and invites us into a new way of being.

This Christmas, may we not merely commemorate a past event but participate in its ongoing reality. May we, like the Magi, bring our most valuable treasures and lay them at the feet of the One who gave everything for us. And may our lives become living gifts that tell the true story of the God who loved us enough to become one of us, to invite the overlooked to witness His work, and to receive our gifts with the same grace with which He gives His own.

Merry Christmas!

The Scandal of the Witnesses

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The Scandal of the Witnesses title graphic

“And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear. And the angel said to them, ‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!'” – Luke 2:8-14

Last week, we explored how the incarnation itself—God becoming human—was profoundly scandalous, a stumbling block (σκανδαλίζω/skandalizō) to human expectations about divinity. Today, we turn to another scandal of the Christmas story: God’s choice of witnesses.

If you were orchestrating the most important birth in human history, who would you select as the first witnesses? Prominent religious leaders? Government officials? Respected scholars? People whose testimony would be widely believed and whose influence would spread the news effectively?

God chose shepherds.

This divine choice represents another stumbling block, another inversion of human expectations that reveals the upside-down values of God’s kingdom.

The Social Status of Shepherds

To appreciate the scandal of God’s choice, we need to understand the social position of shepherds in first-century Palestine. While we might have romanticized notions of shepherds from pastoral poetry or Sunday School illustrations, the reality was quite different:

1. They were ceremonially unclean

The nature of their work made it impossible for shepherds to observe ceremonial washing and purification rites. They couldn’t leave their flocks to participate in religious festivals. This relegated them to a perpetual state of ritual impurity.

2. They were considered untrustworthy

Shepherds had such a reputation for dishonesty that they were not permitted to testify in court. Their word was considered unreliable. The Mishnah, a collection of Jewish oral traditions, listed shepherds among those whose occupations rendered them untrustworthy.

3. They were socially marginalized

Shepherds lived on the outskirts of society, both literally and figuratively. They spent most of their time in the fields, apart from community life. Their work was considered undesirable—necessary but not respected.

4. They were economically poor

Contrary to images of shepherds as independent operators, most were hired hands working for wealthy landowners. They received minimal compensation for difficult, dangerous work.

In short, shepherds occupied one of the lowest rungs on the social ladder. They were the overlooked, the marginalized, the disregarded. Their testimony would carry little weight in respectable society.

This makes God’s choice all the more striking. The first announcement of the Messiah’s birth—the news that would change human history—was entrusted to those whose word would be questioned or dismissed by the religious and social establishment.

The Divine Reversal

This choice of witnesses wasn’t accidental or merely practical. It represented a deliberate divine reversal of human value systems. Throughout Scripture, we see God consistently working through the unlikely, the overlooked, and the marginalized:

  • He chose Abraham and Sarah, an elderly childless couple, to become the parents of a great nation
  • He selected Moses, a fugitive with a speech impediment, to confront Pharaoh
  • He anointed David, the youngest son watching sheep, to become king
  • He called Amos, a herdsman and dresser of sycamore figs, to prophesy to Israel

The selection of shepherds as the first witnesses to Christ’s birth continues this pattern. It embodies what Mary had proclaimed in her Magnificat just months earlier:

“He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.” (Luke 1:52-53)

This divine reversal is σκανδαλίζω—scandalous, a stumbling block—to human systems that value power, wealth, education, and social standing. It suggests that God sees value where humans often don’t, and that His kingdom operates by different principles than our social hierarchies.

The Scandal of Divine Access

Beyond challenging social hierarchies, the choice of shepherds as witnesses reveals something profound about access to God. In the religious system of the time, access to God was mediated through a complex system of purification rituals, temple worship, and priestly intercession. One’s closeness to God was thought to correlate with one’s ritual purity and religious knowledge.

The shepherds, being ceremonially unclean and religiously untrained, should have been far from divine revelation according to this understanding. Yet they received direct divine communication through angels and were granted immediate access to the newborn Messiah.

This represents another scandal—the scandal of unmediated divine access. God bypassed the religious establishment entirely, bringing His message directly to those on the margins. This foreshadowed Jesus’ later ministry, where He consistently provided direct access to God for those whom the religious system excluded:

  • Tax collectors deemed too corrupt
  • Women considered inappropriate conversation partners for rabbis
  • Samaritans viewed as religious heretics
  • Lepers judged to be under divine punishment
  • Gentiles thought to be outside God’s covenant

The shepherds’ experience anticipated a new kind of relationship with God—one based not on ritual purity or religious credentials but on divine grace and human receptivity.

The Scandal of Unlikely Messengers

There’s yet another scandal in this story: not only were the shepherds unlikely recipients of divine revelation, but they became the first evangelists of the Christian message.

Luke tells us that after seeing the baby Jesus, “they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child. And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them” (Luke 2:17-18).

These men, whose testimony wasn’t even accepted in court, became God’s chosen messengers to announce the Messiah’s birth. Those deemed unreliable by society were entrusted with history’s most important news.

This pattern would continue throughout Jesus’ ministry and the early church:

  • Samaritan woman with a questionable reputation becomes an evangelist to her town (John 4)
  • Former demoniac proclaims Jesus throughout the Decapolis (Mark 5:18-20)
  • Uneducated fishermen become apostolic leaders (Acts 4:13)
  • Former persecutor becomes the greatest missionary (Acts 9)

The scandal is that God consistently chooses unlikely messengers—people whose credibility would be questioned by conventional standards. As Paul would later write, “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong” (1 Corinthians 1:27).

The Content of the Message

The scandal extends beyond who received the message to what they were told. The angelic announcement contained elements that would have been shocking to first-century Jewish expectations:

“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”

  1. “Unto you” – The personal nature of this birth—that it was specifically for these marginalized shepherds—would have been surprising in a culture that expected the Messiah to come primarily for the religiously observant.
  2. “A Savior” – While Jews expected a Messiah, the term “Savior” (sōtēr) had particular resonance in the Roman world, where it was applied to the emperor. Using this title suggested a rival claim to the emperor’s authority.
  3. “Christ the Lord” – Combining “Christ” (Messiah) with “Lord” (kyrios, a term used for God in Greek translations of the Old Testament) made a bold claim about this baby’s identity that went beyond traditional Messianic expectations.

The message itself challenged both religious and political power structures, making it as scandalous as the messengers who carried it.

The Shepherds’ Response

What’s remarkable about the shepherds is their response to this scandalous divine choice. Despite their social conditioning that would have told them they were unworthy of such revelation, they:

  1. Believed the message – They didn’t dismiss the angelic appearance as hallucination or question why they would be chosen.
  2. Acted immediately – “They went with haste” to find the baby, not delaying or second-guessing their experience.
  3. Shared what they had seen – They became witnesses, spreading the news despite their lack of social standing.
  4. Returned glorifying God – They continued their humble work, but with a new perspective, “glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen.”

Their response models how we might respond to God’s scandalous grace in our own lives—with simple faith, immediate action, willing testimony, and transformed perspective as we return to our daily responsibilities.

The Scandal Continues

The pattern established in the shepherds’ story—God choosing unlikely witnesses—wasn’t limited to the Christmas event but became characteristic of Jesus’ entire ministry and the early church:

  • Jesus selected fishermen, tax collectors, and political zealots as His inner circle
  • Women were the first witnesses to His resurrection, despite their testimony being devalued in that culture
  • The gospel spread first among the poor and slaves before reaching the wealthy and powerful
  • Paul boasted that “not many were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth” among the early believers (1 Corinthians 1:26)

This consistent pattern suggests that God’s choice of shepherds wasn’t incidental but intentional—a revelation of how His kingdom operates.

Living with the Scandal Today

This aspect of the Christmas story challenges us in several ways:

1. It questions our criteria for credibility

Who do we consider reliable witnesses today? Whose voices do we value and whose do we dismiss? The shepherds’ story suggests we should be cautious about dismissing testimony based on social status, education, or conventional credibility markers.

2. It challenges our social hierarchies

If God deliberately chose those at the bottom of the social ladder as His first witnesses, what does that suggest about how we should structure our communities and churches? Perhaps our leadership and influence should not mirror worldly status systems.

3. It offers hope to the marginalized

For those who feel overlooked or undervalued by society, the shepherds’ story offers profound encouragement. God sees those whom society ignores and often chooses them for special purposes in His kingdom.

4. It invites us to examine our own response

Like the shepherds, we face a choice when confronted with God’s unexpected work: Will we believe despite our sense of unworthiness? Will we act immediately? Will we share what we’ve experienced? Will we return to our daily lives transformed?

The Upside-Down Kingdom

The scandal of the shepherds reveals a fundamental truth about God’s kingdom: it operates by different values than human kingdoms. As Jesus would later teach:

“The last will be first, and the first last.” (Matthew 20:16)
“Whoever would be great among you must be your servant.” (Matthew 20:26)
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:3)

These aren’t just nice spiritual sayings; they represent the actual operating principles of God’s kingdom. The choice of shepherds as the first witnesses wasn’t an anomaly but a manifestation of these kingdom values.

This Christmas, perhaps we need to let ourselves be scandalized anew by God’s choice of witnesses. Perhaps we need to question our own value systems and ask whether they align with the kingdom revealed in the manger—a kingdom where shepherds receive angelic revelations, where the marginalized get front-row seats to divine action, and where those deemed unreliable by society become God’s chosen messengers.

For in this divine scandal lies an invitation—an invitation to see the world and each other through God’s eyes rather than through the distorting lens of human status systems. An invitation to value what God values and to recognize His work in unexpected places and through unexpected people.

Next week, we’ll explore our final Christmas scandal: “The Scandal of Extravagant Gifts”—examining the Magi’s lavish offerings and what they reveal about the nature of true giving in God’s kingdom.

The Scandal of the Incarnation

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The Scandal of the Incarnation title graphic

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” – John 1:14

The Greek word σκανδαλίζω (skandalizō) appears frequently in the New Testament. It’s where we get our English word “scandalize,” and it literally refers to a trap or stumbling block—something that trips people up or causes them to fall. When the Bible uses this term, it often points to something that offends people’s sensibilities so deeply that it becomes an obstacle to faith.

Nothing in Christian theology has been more σκανδαλίζω—more scandalous, more of a stumbling block—than the incarnation: the claim that the infinite, eternal God became a finite human baby.

Skandalizō means “to put a stumbling block or impediment in the way, upon which another may trip and fall.” This is precisely what the incarnation did to human religious expectations. It placed before us a claim so outrageous, so contrary to conventional wisdom, that many have tripped over it throughout history.

A Scandal to Everyone

The incarnation wasn’t just shocking to one group—it scandalized virtually everyone who encountered it, though for different reasons:

A Scandal to the Jews

For faithful Jews, the idea that God would become human was blasphemous. Their understanding of God emphasized His transcendence and otherness. The first commandment prohibited making any image of God, yet Christianity claimed God had made Himself into a human image.

As Paul wrote, “We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block [skandalon] to Jews” (1 Corinthians 1:23). The incarnation contradicted their expectations of a Messiah who would come in power and glory, not vulnerability and obscurity.

A Scandal to the Greeks

For Greek philosophers, the incarnation was equally offensive but for different reasons. Their worldview separated the spiritual realm (seen as good and pure) from the material world (seen as lesser or even corrupt). The idea that a perfect deity would willingly take on corrupt flesh seemed absurd.

As Paul continued in the same verse, Christ crucified was “folly to Gentiles.” The Greek word for “folly” (moria) gives us our word “moronic.” To the sophisticated Greek mind, the incarnation wasn’t just mistaken—it was intellectually embarrassing.

A Scandal to the Romans

For Romans, power and honor were supreme values. Their gods were projections of power, not embodiments of humility. A God who would voluntarily embrace weakness, limitation, and ultimately execution by Roman authorities was incomprehensible.

A Scandal Today

The incarnation remains scandalous in our time, though for somewhat different reasons:

  • To materialists, the idea of transcendent divinity entering physical reality is nonsensical
  • To individualists, the notion of God binding Himself to human community seems unnecessary
  • To those who value autonomy and self-sufficiency, a God who enters into messy human dependency appears weak
  • To those seeking spiritual escape from physical reality, God’s embrace of embodiment seems backward

The incarnation offends human sensibilities in every era because it contradicts our natural assumptions about both divinity and humanity.

The Scandal of Divine Humility

At its core, what makes the incarnation so scandalous is its radical divine humility. As Paul describes it:

“Though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:6-8)

This voluntary self-emptying (kenosis in Greek) represents a divine humility that contradicts nearly every human conception of greatness. We associate divinity with power, control, and immunity from suffering. The incarnation gives us a God who embraces weakness, vulnerability, and pain.

Consider what the incarnation meant for the eternal Word:

  • The one who created time subjected Himself to its limitations
  • The one who is omnipresent confined Himself to a single location
  • The one who is omniscient experienced human learning and growth
  • The one who is omnipotent took on human frailty and fatigue
  • The one who is perfectly holy entered a world of temptation and sin
  • The one who is self-existent became dependent on others for survival

This is not what we expect from divinity. It’s σκανδαλίζω—a stumbling block to our natural understanding.

The Scandal of Human Dignity

While the incarnation scandalously lowers our view of God (in terms of conventional expectations), it simultaneously elevates our view of humanity in ways equally shocking.

If God could become human without ceasing to be God, then:

  1. Human nature isn’t inherently corrupt
    Despite its fallenness, human nature must be capable of union with divinity.
  2. Embodiment isn’t a prison to escape
    If God willingly took on flesh, physical existence can’t be inherently evil or inferior.
  3. Ordinary life has extraordinary significance
    The mundane realities of human existence—eating, sleeping, working, relating—have been forever dignified by divine participation.
  4. No human is beyond divine reach
    If God could bridge the infinite gap between divinity and humanity, no human condition is too broken for His presence.

This elevation of human dignity was as scandalous in the ancient world as the lowering of divine dignity. It challenged hierarchical societies that saw most humans as disposable and contradicted philosophical systems that viewed embodiment as a regrettable condition.

The Scandal of Particularity

Another scandalous aspect of the incarnation is its particularity. God didn’t become a generic human or appear simultaneously in multiple forms. He became a specific man in a specific time, place, and culture:

  • A Jewish man (not Greek, Roman, or Egyptian)
  • In first-century Palestine (not ancient China or modern America)
  • Born to a working-class family (not to royalty or the religious elite)
  • In the context of Roman occupation (not during a time of national glory)

This particularity offends our sense that God should be universal and impartial. Why these people? Why this time and place? Why these circumstances?

Yet this scandal of particularity reveals something profound: God works through the concrete and specific, not just through universal principles. He enters real human history, not an idealized abstraction of humanity.

The Scandal of Intimacy

Perhaps most scandalous of all is what the incarnation reveals about God’s desire for intimacy with us. The Word became flesh not primarily to teach us or rule us, but to be with us—Immanuel, “God with us.”

This divine longing for closeness contradicts both religious and secular assumptions:

  • Religious systems often emphasize maintaining proper distance from the divine
  • Secular thought typically sees no divine interest in human affairs at all

The incarnation suggests instead that God desires such close communion with humanity that He was willing to become one of us to achieve it. This scandalous intimacy continues to challenge our comfortable distance from God.

Embracing the Scandal

How should we respond to this scandalous claim at the heart of our faith? Several possibilities present themselves:

1. We can reject the scandal

Many throughout history have tried to domesticate the incarnation by reinterpreting it. Some suggest Jesus only appeared to be human (Docetism). Others claim He was merely human and somehow adopted by God (Adoptionism). Still others propose He was a lesser divine being, not fully God (Arianism).

These reinterpretations attempt to remove the scandal by making the incarnation more palatable to human reason. But in doing so, they lose the revolutionary power of the original claim.

2. We can rationalize the scandal

Another approach tries to make the incarnation intellectually respectable through sophisticated theological explanations. While theological reflection is valuable, we must be careful not to explain away the shock value of God becoming human.

As Dorothy Sayers observed, “The dogma of the Incarnation is the most dramatic thing about Christianity, and indeed, the most dramatic thing that ever entered the mind of man; but if you tell people so, they stare at you in bewilderment.”

3. We can embrace the scandal

The most faithful response is to embrace the scandal—to let the incarnation challenge our assumptions about both God and humanity. This means:

  • Allowing ourselves to be shocked again by the claim that “the Word became flesh”
  • Recognizing how this contradicts our natural religious instincts
  • Letting this scandalous truth reshape our understanding of greatness, power, and love

When we embrace rather than evade the scandal, we discover its transformative power. The incarnation becomes not just a theological doctrine but a revolutionary paradigm that inverts our values and priorities.

Living the Scandal

If we truly embrace the scandal of the incarnation, it will transform how we live:

1. It changes how we view humility

If God Himself embraced humility, we can no longer see it as weakness but must recognize it as divine strength. As Jesus taught, “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12).

2. It changes how we view vulnerability

The incarnation reveals a God willing to become vulnerable to rejection, suffering, and death. This divine vulnerability challenges our cultural worship of invulnerability and self-protection.

3. It changes how we view the ordinary

If God entered ordinary human existence—eating, sleeping, working with hands, experiencing family life—then these “mundane” aspects of life are infused with sacred potential.

4. It changes how we view suffering

The incarnation means God doesn’t observe human suffering from a safe distance but enters into it. This doesn’t explain suffering away, but it assures us we don’t suffer alone.

5. It changes how we view others

If God thought humanity worth becoming, we must see each person—regardless of status, ability, or circumstance—as worthy of profound dignity and respect.

The Ongoing Scandal

Two thousand years after the first Christmas, the incarnation remains as scandalous as ever. In a world that worships power, success, and self-sufficiency, the image of God as a vulnerable baby born to insignificant parents in difficult circumstances still challenges our fundamental assumptions.

This Christmas, rather than domesticating this scandal with sentimentality or familiarity, perhaps we should let it scandalize us anew. Perhaps we should allow ourselves to be shocked again by the outrageous claim that the infinite God became a finite baby, that the Creator entered His creation, that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

For in this divine scandal lies our salvation. As Athanasius wrote in the fourth century, “He became what we are that we might become what He is.” The scandal of the incarnation is that God became human so that humans might share in divine life.

Next week, we’ll explore “The Scandal of the Witnesses”—examining why God chose to announce Christ’s birth first to shepherds, social outcasts whose testimony wasn’t even valid in court, rather than to religious leaders or people of influence.