“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:
- Human nature isn’t inherently corrupt
Despite its fallenness, human nature must be capable of union with divinity. - Embodiment isn’t a prison to escape
If God willingly took on flesh, physical existence can’t be inherently evil or inferior. - Ordinary life has extraordinary significance
The mundane realities of human existence—eating, sleeping, working, relating—have been forever dignified by divine participation. - 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.