WHY DID JESUS HAVE TO BECOME HUMAN? (CHRISTOLOGY 2)

Last week, we began our journey through Hebrews by focusing on Christ’s divine nature. In just four verses, we saw that Jesus is the agent, purpose, sustainer, and ruler of creation. He is fully God—uncreated, eternal, and the exact expression of God’s nature. That was a lot of theology packed into a small space.

Today we slow down and move to Christology part two: Jesus’ human nature. This raises a crucial question for Christians then and now: Why did Jesus have to become human?

The theological term for this is the incarnation—the central Christian belief that the eternal Son of God took on human nature in the person of Jesus Christ. Importantly, Jesus did not stop being God when He came to earth. He retained His divine nature and added a fully human nature. This means Jesus is one person with two distinct natures: fully God and fully man. No other being in the universe exists like this.

While on earth, Jesus didn’t “turn off” His divine power. Instead, He chose not to exercise His divine attributes independently. He lived in complete dependence on the Holy Spirit. The early church called this mystery the hypostatic union. It’s deep theology, but the book of Hebrews doesn’t present it as abstract theory. It presents it as good news.

Let’s slow down and read our passage for the day:

Hebrews 2:14–18 (NLT)

Because God’s children are human beings—made of flesh and blood—the Son also became flesh and blood. For only as a human being could he die, and only by dying could he break the power of the devil, who had the power of death. Only in this way could he set free all who have lived their lives as slaves to the fear of dying…

From this passage, Hebrews gives us seven reasons Jesus had to become human.

First, Jesus became human because we are human. Since God’s children are flesh and blood, the Son also became flesh and blood. Only a human could represent the human race before God. To save humanity, the Savior had to belong to humanity. In God’s courtroom of justice, Jesus stands as our representative—one who truly understands our condition.

Second, Jesus became human so He could die. Death is the penalty for sin, established by God from the beginning. This is the great paradox of the gospel: the Author of life became mortal. If Jesus had remained only divine, He could not have died—and if He could not die, we could not overcome death. Hebrews later reminds us that without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness of sins.

Third, Jesus became human so He could break the power of the devil. Hebrews says that through death, Jesus destroyed the one who had the power of death. Satan once held the authority to accuse humanity and hold eternal separation over our heads. Notice the tense—had the power of death. Through the cross, that authority was broken.

Fourth, Jesus became human to set us free from the fear of death. Death is still inevitable, but it no longer has the final word. In the ancient world, death was a constant companion, and fear of it shaped daily life. The Christian hope of resurrection transformed everything. As Paul later declared, “O death, where is your victory?” Christians don’t have to live as slaves to fear anymore.

Fifth, Jesus became human so He could be our high priest. A priest bridges the gap between a holy God and broken people. Jesus had to be made like us in every respect to fulfill this role. He is merciful toward our weakness and faithful toward God’s holiness. Hebrews will return to this theme again and again.

Sixth, Jesus became human so He could be our sacrifice. In the Old Testament, priests offered animals. In the New Covenant, the Priest is the sacrifice. This is the ultimate power move of grace: Jesus offered Himself to take away the...

Big Idea: Jesus Christ is not just a chapter in the story of God; He is the Author, the Hero, and the Ending. When we see Jesus for who He truly is, every other priority in our lives finds its proper place.

Today we begin a nine-week journey through the Book of Hebrews, a letter written to magnify the greatness of Jesus Christ. Hebrews isn’t primarily about religious rules, moral improvement, or spiritual techniques. It’s about Jesus—who He is and what He has done. Everything else flows from that foundation.

The original audience was likely Jewish Christians living under Roman rule, facing intense persecution. As pressure mounted, many were tempted to abandon their faith in Jesus and return to the familiarity and safety of traditional Judaism. Hebrews speaks directly into that tension with one clear message: Jesus is greater than anyone or anything that came before Him. To walk away from Him would be to walk away from the fulfillment of all God’s promises.

The author of Hebrews remains anonymous, one of the great mysteries of the New Testament. While Paul may have influenced it, the writing style is far more polished and rhetorically sophisticated than Paul’s letters. Hebrews chapter 1 proves this immediately. Verses 1–4 form a single, majestic sentence in the original Greek—an exordium, designed to grab attention with both beauty and weight.

Hebrews 1:1–4 (NLT) sets the stage:

In the Old Testament, God spoke in fragments—a dream here, a burning bush there, a prophet’s warning along the way. But in Jesus, God didn’t just send messages; He sent the Message. This is Christology—the study of the person and work of Jesus Christ—and Hebrews wastes no time getting to the point.

In verses 2–3, the author unleashes a rapid-fire description of Jesus using seven distinct attributes. In Scripture, the number seven represents completeness and perfection. Together, these form a full portrait of the Son.

Jesus is the Heir—the goal of history. God has promised everything to Him as an inheritance. History is not random; it is moving toward the coronation of King Jesus. He is the “why” behind all creation.

Jesus is the Creator—the architect of reality. Through Him, God made the universe. Jesus is not a created being; He is the source of all things. Nothing exists apart from His will.

Jesus is the Radiance—the shining glory of God. He doesn’t merely reflect God’s glory like the moon reflects sunlight; He radiates it. The Son is the visible manifestation of the invisible God—“Light from Light.”

Jesus is the Expression—the exact imprint of God’s nature. The Greek word charaktēr refers to a stamp or seal. Jesus doesn’t resemble God; He perfectly represents Him. To see Jesus is to see God.

Jesus is the Sustainer—the glue of the cosmos. He holds everything together by the power of His word. The universe doesn’t persist on autopilot; it endures because Jesus commands it to.

Jesus is the Savior—the cleanser of sin. When He purified us from our sins, the work was finished. Unlike Old Testament priests who never sat down, Jesus completed the work once for all.

Finally, Jesus is the Ruler—the seated King. He sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven, a position of total authority. The victory is won.

Hebrews 1:4 reminds us that Jesus is far greater than angels, traditions, or anything else we might be tempted to trust. For believers facing hardship, this truth re-centers everything.

The message of Hebrews is clear:...

We live in a culture obsessed with control. Hustle harder. Plan smarter. Pray longer. If you do all the right things, life should cooperate. That’s the promise of hustle culture—and it’s incredibly seductive.

But Ecclesiastes offers a brutally honest response.

As we close our Ecclesiastes series, Qoheleth—the Teacher—pulls back the curtain on the illusion of control. Life “under the sun” is not a machine we operate; it’s a mystery we inhabit. And the more we try to control it, the more frustrated and disillusioned we become.

Earlier in the book, Qoheleth introduced us to two key ideas that shape everything else. First, his name—Qoheleth—means “Teacher,” the one who gathers people to tell the truth. Second, the word hevel—often translated “meaningless”—literally means vapor. Life is fleeting, unstable, and impossible to grasp.

Pleasure is hevel.

Wealth is hevel.

They’re not sins. They’re not gods. They’re gifts—but terrible masters.

In this final message, Ecclesiastes confronts three unavoidable realities of life: the uncontrollables.

We live under the illusion that we are in charge—especially in American culture. Ecclesiastes says otherwise.

Ecclesiastes 7:13–14 (NLT) says, “Accept the way God does things, for who can straighten what he has made crooked?”

The hardest truth for control-oriented people is this: God is God, and we are not.

Scripture teaches that God is sovereign—not just aware of events, but actively holding the universe together and directing history toward His purposes. Sometimes God acts directly. Sometimes He allows human choices. But even when He permits something, He never loses control.

God is the primary cause—the one with the plan and the power.

Humans are secondary causes—we make real choices with real responsibility.

The bottom line is humbling: you are not the scriptwriter of your life.

We assume life is a meritocracy—that the fastest, smartest, and hardest-working people always win. Ecclesiastes dismantles that assumption.

Ecclesiastes 9:11 (NLT) says, “The fastest runner doesn’t always win the race… It is all decided by chance, by being in the right place at the right time.”

Timing matters. Circumstances matter. Opportunity matters.

This doesn’t mean effort is pointless. In fact, Ecclesiastes affirms wisdom and preparation.

Ecclesiastes 10:10 (NLT) says, “Using a dull ax requires great strength, so sharpen the blade.”

Sharpen the blade. Work hard. Be wise.

But even then, outcomes are never guaranteed.

Ecclesiastes doesn’t call us to quit trying—it calls us to stop pretending we’re in control.

Some people are better at predicting the future than others. Many of them are rich. But it’s still a guess.

Ecclesiastes is clear: the future is unknowable, and death is unavoidable.

Ecclesiastes 8:7–8 (NLT) says, “No one really knows what is going to happen… None of us can hold back our spirit from departing.”

No amount of money, innovation, or optimism can stop time—or death. The human mortality rate remains a steady 100%.

That reality sounds dark until we realize what Ecclesiastes is doing: stripping away false hope so we can find real hope.

If we can’t control the Creator, the consequences, or the clock—what can we control?

Ecclesiastes ends with clarity.

Ecclesiastes 12:13–14 (NLT) says, “Fear God and obey his commands, for this is everyone’s duty.”

You can control your response to God.

Not your parents’ faith.

Not your spouse’s obedience.

Not your pastor’s integrity.

Yours.

To fear God means more than being afraid. It means awe,