In Parts I-III
of this series we considered Scriptural evidence for the deity of Christ, some
ancient and modern heresies concerning the deity of Christ, and some specific
Scriptures used to support heretical teachings concerning the deity of Christ.
In Part IV we considered Scriptural evidence for the humanity of Christ. We now
conclude this series of articles by describing some ancient and modern

     Heresies Concerning the

       Humanity of Christ.

The Docetic
(Gnostic) Heresy. “Docetic” is from the Greek word meaning “to seem, to
appear.” This is the teaching that Christ had no real body; His appearance was
only an apparition, His body a phantom, His birth and death visions. This way
of thinking was present in the 1st century A.D. and was refuted in 1 John 4:2
and 2 John 7. Many variations of this heresy developed during the first few
centuries of Christianity; it was a common teaching of the Gnostics. An example
of docetic thinking was the teaching of Basilides of Egypt that it was Simon of
Cyrene who was crucified in disguise of Jesus. (This is similar to the notion
incorporated into the Islamic Qu’ran several centuries later that it wasn’t
really Jesus who died on the cross but one who was made to look like Him, while
Jesus was taken directly to heaven without dying.)

It is somewhat
understandable why people would want to deny that Jesus Christ is
divine—co-equal with the eternal God the Father. But why would people want to
accept the deity but not the humanity of Christ? The Gnostics, following the
Greek philosopher Plato, believed that matter was evil, subject to change and
decay, whereas ideas had permanence and perfection. Thus God could not become
man with a physical body, for in so doing He would become tainted with evil.
Some “Gnostic Christians” handled this dilemma by denying Christ’s deity;
others—the docetic Gnostics—dealt with it by saying that Christ didn’t really
become man at all but only appeared to have a body.

The answer to
this apparent dilemma is that the whole premise is wrong:there is nothing
inherently evil in matter or in the human body. After creating Adam’s body,
soul, and spirit, “God saw every thing that He had made, and behold, it was
very good” (Gen. 1:31). Christ died to redeem our body (Rom. 8:23) as well as
our soul and spirit (Psa. 31:5; 49:15; 69:18). Our present physical body is
called “a natural [literally, ‘soulish’] body” (1 Cor. 15:44), that is, a body
that is ideally suited to the soul of man. In the same verse, our future,
resurrection body in heaven is called “a spiritual body,” that is, a body that
is ideally suited to the spirit of man—the part of us that sets us apart from
all of the animal kingdom and fits us to communicate with and enjoy God.

When a believer
dies, he is “absent from the body and present [in soul and spirit] with the
Lord” (2 Cor. 5:8). But a few verses earlier, the apostle Paul states that
there is something better than dying and having our soul and spirit go to
heaven:“For we know that, if our earthly house of this tabernacle were
dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in
the heavens. For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed upon with
our house which is from heaven…. For we who are in this tabernacle do groan,
being burdened:not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon” (2 Cor.
5:1-4). The “unclothed” state is having our soul and spirit in heaven and our
body in the grave. The “clothed” state is having our resurrection body joined
with our soul and spirit in heaven. This will happen at “the coming of the
Lord” for His own (1 Thess. 4:15-17) when “the dead shall be raised
incorruptible” (1 Cor. 15:52).

We have taken
this brief side trip to illustrate that matter and body—far from being evil—are
given great honor by God. The greatest honor of all placed upon man’s physical
body was for the eternal Son of God to take upon Himself such a body in His
Incarnation. Christ as Man has given expression to the ideal Man, the perfect
Man, the One who delighted always to do the will of the Father (Psa. 40:8; Heb.
10:7) and in whom the Father found all His delight (Matt. 3:17 JND).

The
Apollinarian Heresy. Apollinarius, a leader of the Church in Syria in the
4th century A.D., was a strong opponent of the Arian Heresy (see Part II of
this series in the Jan-Feb 2001 issue) that denied the deity of Christ. But He
went too far in the opposite direction:he taught that Christ had a human body
but not a human soul and spirit. Christ’s divine nature took the place of soul
and spirit, he taught. His argument was that if Christ had been fully human in
body, soul, and spirit, He would have been sinful. But it is just as wrong to
assume that the human soul and spirit are inherently sinful as to assume that the
human body is such. As Christians we are “partakers of the divine nature” (2
Pet. 1:4) which “cannot sin” (1 John 4:9). As fallen men and women  of Adam’s
race, we also possess a sinful nature (Rom. 7:17,18). But in heaven we will “be
conformed to the image of [God’s] Son” (Rom. 8:29). That is, our old, sinful
nature will be taken away from us. We will still be human in body, soul, and
spirit, but clothed with a new, incorruptible and immortal body (1 Cor.
15:52-54), and with our sinful nature removed.

On earth,
Christ Jesus as Man was just like us, “yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). In heaven
we shall be like the Man Christ Jesus (1 John 3:2) in our humanity:that one
difference—the sin nature—will be removed, whereas we shall retain our new
nature that “cannot sin” (1 John 3:9).

In Part IV of
this series in the previous issue, we considered a number of ways in which
Christ showed that He was human. In addition to many physical or bodily
expressions of His humanity, we gave examples of His human emotions, including
His affection, sympathy, compassion, mental agony, and loneliness. His human
soul and spirit are referred to in the following verses:“Then said He unto
them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death” (Matt. 26:38); “When Jesus
had thus said, He was troubled in spirit” (John 13:21). Surely, Jesus could not
have cried, “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” (Matt. 27:46) without
having a human soul and spirit.

The teaching of
Apollinarius was rejected as heterodox (that is, not true to Scripture) by the
Council of Constantinople in 381 A.D. and has continued to be rejected by
orthodox Christians up to the present time. This error was taught by a man
named F. E. Raven about a hundred years ago and is still taught by his
followers today. Also, in the 1930’s the Apollinarian teaching of a man named
James Boyd contributed to a division in the so-called “Grant Fellowship” of
Christians. Erwin Lutzer in his book, The Doctrines That Divide (Kregel,
1998) writes that he has met many believers who assume that the physical body
of Christ came from Mary, but that His soul and spirit were not human but
divine. This apparently comes from lack of teaching and understanding of God’s
Word rather than any concerted Apollinarian teaching today.

As stated in
the previous issue, it is important to hold the full humanity of Christ (as
well as the full deity of Christ) because He could not otherwise have made full
atonement for our sins. The Redeemer had to be a man to actually die.
“Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, He also
Himself likewise took part of the same, that through death He might destroy him
who had the power of death, that is, the devil” (Heb. 2:14). If He were not
fully human, He could not have fully represented us on the cross. If He had had
only a human body, but not a human soul and spirit, He could have redeemed only
man’s body, and not man’s soul and spirit. With only our body redeemed, we
might live forever without disease or death, but still retaining our sin
nature.

The
Nestorian Heresy. Following the Council of Constantinople there was general
assent in the Church as to the full deity and humanity of Christ. But in the
5th century A.D. there was a concerted effort on the part of many theologians
to try to define just exactly how the divine and human natures were united in
Christ. Nestorius, a Christian leader in Constantinople around 430 A.D.,
asserted that Christ was two distinct persons—Son of Man and Son of God—rather
than having divine and human natures united in one Person. At the Council of
Ephesus in 431 A.D., Nestorius’ teaching was condemned. We can easily fall into
the Nestorian error when we say that Christ said this as Son of Man and did
that as Son of God. No doubt it would be best to say that whatever the Man
Christ Jesus said and did, He did as one divine-human Person, without trying to
separate His divine and human natures.

Other scholars,
attempting to correct the Nestorian Heresy, went too far in the opposite
direction, teaching, for example, that Christ’s deity and humanity were blended
together into a single nature. The Council of Chalcedon in 451 A.D. produced
the following statement as to the uniting of the divine and human natures of
Christ:“Christ … acknowledged in two natures, unconfusedly, unchangeable,
indivisibly, inseparably, the distinction of natures being by no means taken
away by the union, but rather the property of each nature being preserved, and
concurring in one person and one subsistence, not parted or divided into two
persons, but one and the same Son, Only-begotten, God the Word, the Lord Jesus
Christ.”

Perhaps it is
best to conclude this section with the following verse:“No man knows the Son
but the Father” (Matt. 11:27).

Will Christ
Cease Being a Man? (This question logically belongs to Part IV of this
series.) Clearly Christ was still a Man following His death and resurrection.
When He ascended to heaven, the angels said, “This same Jesus, who is taken up
from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as you have seen Him go into
heaven” (Acts 1:11). Accordingly, Stephen and the apostle Paul saw Him after
His ascension (Acts 7:55,56; 1 Cor. 15:8). It is prophesied in the Word that
Christ will return, as a Man, to set up His kingdom upon the earth and reign
for 1,000 years on the throne of David (Psa. 132:11; Isa. 9:7; Zech. 14:4; Luke
1:32; Rev. 1:7). Will He cease being a Man at the end of His 1,000 year reign
over the earth? No, the following verses indicate that Christ will never
cease being Man, just as He will never cease being God:“This Man, because He
continues ever, has an unchangeable priesthood…. The Son … is consecrated
[as Priest] for evermore…. Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and today, and
forever” (Heb. 7:24,28; 13:8; see also Zech. 12:10; 13:6).

There is a Man
in the glory with whom we shall communicate, and whom we shall worship, adore,
and enjoy forevermore. Praise His holy name! “Even so, come, Lord Jesus” (Rev. 22:20).

“David and the
captains of the host separated to the service of the sons of Asaph, and of
Heman, and of Jeduthun, who should prophesy with harps, with psalteries, and
with cymbals” (1 Chron. 25:1).

In 1 Kings 1 we
see King David as a decrepit old man; Abishag ministered to him, seeking almost
in vain to keep the spark of life from going out. But when Solomon’s title to
the throne was disputed by Adonijah, David blazed forth as much the king and
man of might as ever, and secured for Solomon the throne and the succession.
The “man after [God’s] own heart” (Acts 13:22), realizing as his end drew near
the glory that awaited his successor, made full and ample provision not merely
for Solomon’s own throne, but above all, for the glory and the worship and
service of the house of God—that which was dearest to his heart.

David provided
not only for the building of the temple, but for the worship of the Levites,
the courses of the priests, the porters at the gates, and all the details. We
can imagine with what keen delight this old man would arrange all. Faith could
see, not the bare threshing floor of Ornan the Jebusite (1 Chron. 21:28; 2
Chron. 3:1), but the stately temple filled with worshiping priests and singing
Levites, and over all, the overshadowing glory. And faith could rejoice, though
for sight there was nothing. So it should ever be for us. Sight has nothing to
show, but how lively the view that faith opens up!

It is in
connection with the ordering of the Levite service of worship that we have an
expression that should arrest our attention:“David … separated to the
service … [those] who should prophesy with harps.” We would naturally
think of harps being used to play upon to aid in the melody of the worship, but
there seems to be distinct meaning, as we know there is in every word of
Scripture, in this word “prophesy.” They were to prophesy with harps;
that is, they were to speak for God, which is really the thought of
prophesying. And does it not seem a strange combination? The harp suggests
praise, worship, and joy offered to God; the prophesying suggests, as it were,
God’s voice for His people to hear. Without doubt, the thought that underlies
it, first of all, is that their playing with harps was not a natural exercise,
but under divine guidance. As the incense was made according to the formula
given to Moses, and nothing could be added or taken from it, so the melody
which was to accompany the sweet psalms of praise was also ordered of God.
This, of course, does not set aside the thought of their being men of gift and
of training, but it reminds us of the fact that everything connected with God
must be under His control.

We have another
mention of an instrument of music in connection with the exercise of prophecy
in the life of Elisha—when the kings of Judah and Israel and Edom were stranded
in the wilderness without water, and the enemy threatened them. In their
helplessness they turned to the prophet of the Lord who, for the sake of
Jehoshaphat, came to their relief. “Bring me a minstrel,” Elisha said. “And it
came to pass, when the minstrel played, that the hand of the LORD came upon
him.” It was in connection with what we might call praise that God gave His
word of deliverance for these kings.

This opens up a
very important thought for us and one that we forget all too easily. Nothing is
more needed among the people of God than prophecy. What would we be without
God’s word for us? Of course, we have the written Word, that which embodies all
the truth of God revealed to us, and which it is at once our privilege and
responsibility to feed upon and to be filled with. But the word in season, the
word from the Lord out of His written Word, that which appeals to conscience
and to heart and ministers “edification, and exhortation, and comfort” (1 Cor.
14:3), how important, how necessary to receive this!

If we turn to
the Old Testament prophets, we see that their message consisted largely of
warning, of denunciation of evil, of lamentation over the declension of a
people privileged as no other nation. The pages of the prophets are stained
with their tears, and yet who that has read, “Isaiah’s wild measure” but has
heard the sound of the harp mingling its melody even when the theme was most
sad, and sending a glimmer of hope over the darkest pages. Rising above and
reaching beyond all the gloom is that clear, triumphant note of victory that
looks on to the end, assured that at the last the harps will have not a
message of sorrow but one of unmingled joy and delight.

Putting it very
simply, the thought suggested by the harps is the spirit of praise and worship.
Even our sins ought to be sung out to God, as it were. The book of Psalms as a
whole gives us this thought. No matter how humbling the sin, how deep the
humiliation, how sore the oppression of the enemy, the harp is never laid
aside. It all goes up, as it were, to God in worship. And is there not deep
instruction in this? None are more easily discouraged than the people of God
when their failures are brought to remembrance. They are overwhelmed. Mere
calling sin to mind will never give deliverance from it; but here comes in the
harp of praise too; for in spite of all weakness and manifold shortcomings, how
much we have to praise for!

There is
lacking among us, no doubt, much of that faithfulness that marked the prophets
of old. “He who has My Word, let him speak My Word faithfully” (Jer. 23:28) is
too easily forgotten, and while we do not prophesy “smooth things” of deceit
(Isa. 30:10), there may be the passing over, the avoiding those painful “wounds
of a friend” (Prov. 27:6) that heal while they smite. This is included in the
“exhortation” that the apostle Paul speaks of in 1 Cor. 14:3. We must deal
faithfully with one another and we may all prophesy. But let us always take our
harp when we prophesy. Let us always remember that we can praise God and that
the accompaniment to the saddest message that we may have to bring to our
brethren is the sweet song of redemption. Oh, how this illumines whatever may
have to be said! How it changes denunciation into entreaty! How anger is melted
to tears, and even over those who have gone farthest astray, how the yearning
pity mingles with the faith to count upon their recovery as we deliver, it may
be, a message of sorrow!

In quite
another connection we have a similar thought:“Be careful [or anxious] for
nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let
your requests be made known unto God” (Phil. 4:6). The supplication suggests
strong entreaty of hearts that have a sense of need and must have an answer
from God. Yet coupled with it is that “thanksgiving” that lightens the burden
and, in anticipation, praises God for the answer. Do we always remember to
mingle thanks with our prayers as we wait long for the answer, as it is
deferred until the heart well nigh grows sick? Let us remember the
thanksgiving, for our God does hear and will in His own way and time give an
answer of peace. Meanwhile, too, “the peace of God that passes all
understanding [keeps our] hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”

We have been
speaking of admonition. This is connected, in Col. 3:16, with psalms and hymns:
“Teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs,
singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.” Be the punctuation altered as
it may, the close connection between the admonition and the psalms and hymns
is, to say the least, suggestive of prophesying with the harp. In our own
experience, have we not oftentimes received the tenderest and most effectual
admonitions in the melody of praise?

Yet, gracious Lord, when we reflect

How apt to turn the eye from Thee,

Forget Thee, too, with sad neglect

And listen to the enemy,

And yet to find Thee still the same,

‘Tis this that humbles us with shame.

It seems as
though the very joy of God’s grace, instead of making us forget our own wrong,
leaves us not hopeless and discouraged but draws us closer to Himself:

Astonished at Thy feet we fall.

Thy love exceeds our highest thought.

Henceforth be Thou our all in all,

Thou who our souls with blood hast

bought.

May we henceforth more faithful prove

And ne’er forget Thy ceaseless love.

This is but one
illustration of what, without doubt, has been frequently the experience of
God’s beloved people. Have we not often expected a blow, felt that we deserved
it, that nothing short of some correction from the rod of God could move us,
and been surprised and melted into deepest contrition by the sweet voice of the
harp bringing the message of love that never changes?

Then, too, the
one who brings the needed message of admonition is also prone to discouragement
sometimes, forgetting his own weaknesses as he things of those of his brethren.
He goes in gloom, with but little hope of seeing results, to do that which is a
most unpleasant duty, and he does it faithfully, but in a hard way. He goes
away unsuccessful and doubly depressed. How different it might have been had he
taken his harp with him and remembered that it is grace alone that restores, as
it is grace alone that saves.

We must not
think that all prophecy is admonition or that every message from God is a word
of warning. How far this is from the truth! Has a father nothing but correction
for his children? It is the exception, rather than the rule. What happy family
is there where admonition is the prevailing atmosphere? It comes with all the
greater force because of its comparative rarity. But prophecy goes on always.
The Father is always speaking to His children and would use us as His
mouthpieces for His message. Exhortation, edification, and comfort are all
included in it, and how everything is lightened and rendered effective by the
spirit of praise! We come with happy hearts and speak to one another for
edification, and how different it is when, in a mere perfunctory way, we go
over truths clear to the mind, but lacking in just that one thing which makes
them effective and which the spirit of praise furnishes! Is there not, too
often, an atmosphere of depression among the people of God? They are looking at
one another, and like Joseph’s brethren, starving as they look into one
another’s faces, and yet their Bibles are in their hands, full of most priceless
truth. Constraint, the fear of man, and occupation with one’s brethren have
hindered the free outflow of that which should come in all its simplicity and
with all its power. What is the remedy? Take the harp. Strike a few notes.
Think of the love of God, of His grace and goodness; think of what redemption
is, and how all constraint vanishes! The Spirit of the Lord is free because we
are occupied, not with one another, but with Christ, and thus there is the
liberty which comes from the Spirit’s freedom.

Take again the
meeting for prayer. How many heavy hearts come to the prayer meeting. Do they
go away heavy or light? It is a libel upon the grace and love of God to carry a
heavy heart away from where we have met with Him. He will surely give a word of
help and blessing if the eye has been turned to Him, or if the harp of praise
has become the vehicle for the message of prophecy.

It is needless
to enlarge. We have simply dwelt upon one idea, looking at a few of its many
sides. The spirit of praise is absolutely essential. God dwells amid the
praises of His people (Psa. 22:22; Heb. 2:12). There can be no sense of His
presence without worship, and there can be no true liberty without praise
accompanying it. Let us then take a lesson from David’s provision. Let us learn
more than ever to prophesy with the harp, and to do everything with
thanksgiving. How light it would make our lives, and what a foretaste it would
give us of that time near at hand—we know not how near—when the melody of the
harp will sound out in all its entrancing sweetness as we sing:“Unto Him who
loves us and has washed us from our sins in His own blood … to Him be glory
and dominion for ever and ever” (Rev. 1:5,6).

(From Help
and Food, Vol. 19.)

“And David
longed and said, Oh that one would give me drink of the water of the well of
Bethlehem” (1 Chron. 11:17). Such was the breathing of David’s heart—a
breathing that met with a speedy and hearty response from three members of his
devoted and heroic band. “And the three broke through the host of the
Philistines, and drew water out of the well of Bethlehem … and brought it to
David.” There was no command issued. No one in particular was singled out and
commissioned to go. There was the simple utterance of the desire, and this it
was which afforded the opportunity for genuine affection and true devotedness.

Mark the
response of David in this most touching scene:“But David would not drink of
it, but poured it out to the LORD. And said … Shall I drink the blood of
these men who have put their lives in jeopardy?” It was a sacrifice too costly
for any save Jehovah Himself, and hence David would not permit the sweet odor
of it to be interrupted in its ascent to the throne of God.

How little did
those three mighty men imagine that their act of loving devotedness should be
recorded on the eternal page of inspiration, there to be read by untold
millions! They never thought of this. Their hearts were set on David, and they
counted not their lives dear unto them so that they might gratify him or
refresh his spirit. Had they acted to get a name or place for themselves, it
would have robbed their act of all its charms and consigned it to its merited
contempt and oblivion. But no; they loved David. This was the spring of their
activity, and they proved that he was more precious to their hearts than life
itself. They forgot all in the one absorbing object of serving David, and the
odor of their sacrifice ascended to the throne of God while the record of their
deed shines on the page of inspiration, and shall continue to shine so long as
that page endures.

Oh! how we long
for something like this in reference to the true David in this day of His
rejection. We do greatly covet a more intense and self-sacrificing devotedness
as the fruit of the constraining love of Christ. It is not, by any means, a
question of working for rewards, for a crown, or for a place, though we fully
believe in the doctrine of rewards. No! the very moment we make rewards our
object, we are below the mark. We believe that service rendered with the eye
upon the reward would be defective. But then we believe also that every jot or
tittle of true service will be rewarded in the day of Christ’s glory, and that
each servant will get his place in the record, and his niche in the kingdom
according to the measure of His personal devotedness down here. This we hold to
be a great practical truth and we press it as such upon the attention of the
Christian reader. We must confess we long to see the standard of devotedness
greatly raised among us, and this can only be effected by having our hearts
more entirely consecrated to Christ and His cause. O Lord, revive Thy work!

(From Short
Papers, Vol. 2, Copyright 1975 by Believers Bookshelf, Sunbury,
Pennsylvania; used by permission.)