Fire and iron

Christmas with Charnock Day 5

A Ukrainian religious icon dating from 1650-1700 depicting the visit of the shepherds to the baby Christ.

Welcome to the fifth in a series of reflections from Stephen Charnock on the incarnation. As a way of expressing my gratitude for the support people have shown as I have set out on my PhD, I’m sending out a short excerpt each morning up to and including Christmas Day.

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In yesterday’s excerpt, Charnock moved from meditating on Jesus’ miraculous conception to the relationship between his two natures. After quoting verses from the Old and New Testaments to show that Jesus was indeed born with both a divine and a human nature, Charnock reflected on the infinite distance originally between them.

What greater distance can there be than between the Deity and humanity, between the Creator and a creature?

asked Charnock. But, as he continued,

What more miraculous than for God to become man, and man to become God!

Straitforward

However, the infinite distance between Christ’s two natures is not the only way in which we see God’s power in the incarnation. Charnock also points out the way God’s power is expressed in the ‘straitness’ of the union of the divine and human natures in the incarnation.

When reading a writer from the past, it is important to keep an eye out for words that look or sound like words we use today, but mean something different. This is the case even with someone like Charnock who is remarkably clear, given that he was writing just under 350 years ago. And Charnock’s use of the word ‘strait’ is a case in point. In describing the union of Christ’s divine and human natures as ‘strait’ he does not mean it in the way that we might use the similarly sounding word ‘straight’ to refer to a road, say, that does not have a curve or bend. Closer to Charnock’s meaning is the more unusual, but still current, word ‘strait’ which people use to talk about a narrow passage of water connecting two seas, such as the Straits of Gibralter. For at the time Charnock was writing in the mid-1600s, the word strait described a place that was narrow or cramped.

So, in referring to the union as ‘so strait’, Charnock meant to communicate that it was so close. He explains,

It is not such a union as is between a man and his house he dwells in, whence he goes out and to which he returns, without any alteration of himself or his house; nor such a union as is between a man and his garment, which both communicate and receive warmth from one another; nor such as is between an artificer [that is, a craftsman] and his instrument wherewith he works; nor such a union as one friend hath with another.

The problem with these ways of illustrating the union of Christ’s divine and human natures, Charnock explains, is that they all involve distant things. They are not one in nature, but have distinct substances. Charnock continues

Two friends, though united by love, are distinct persons; a man and his clothes, an artificer [that is, a craftsman] and his instruments, have distinct substances; but the humanity of Christ hath no substance but in the person of Christ.

Fire and iron

Having described a number of illustrations that are unhelpful for understanding the relationship between Christ’s two natures, Charnock then provides a more helpful one.

The straitness of this union is expressed, and may be somewhat conceived by the union of fire with iron. Fire pierceth through all the parts of iron, it unites itself with every particle, bestows a light, heat, purity upon all of it; you cannot distinguish the iron from the fire, or the fire from the iron; yet they are distinct natures. So the Deity is united to the whole humanity, seasons it, and bestows an excellency upon it, yet the natures still remain distinct.

Charnock uses the image of the way that fire interacts with iron as an admittedly imperfect picture of the closeness of the union of the divine and human natures in the incarnation. But not only that. Charnock also uses the illustration to throw light on other aspects of the hypostatic union. He continues,

And as, during that union of fire with iron, the iron is incapable of rust or blackness, so is the humanity incapable of sin. And as the operation of fire is attributed to the red hot iron (as the iron may be said to heat, burn, and the fire may be said to cut and pierce), yet the imperfections of the iron do not affect the fire; so in this mystery, those things which belong to the divinity are ascribed to the humanity, and those things which belong to the humanity are ascribed to the divinity, in regard of the person in whom those natures are united; yet the imperfections of the humanity do not hurt the divinity.

Like with his discussion of Jesus’ conception, Charnock is keen to communicate his big point about the union of the two natures in the incarnation, whilst also drawing fine distinctions around what this does and does not involve. In particular, it means that the divine and human are totally united in the person of the incarnate Christ. However, it does not mean that the limitations of humanity impinge upon the divine in any way.

Splitting hairs

This may seem like splitting hairs. But, as Charnock has been showing us in his previous reflections, the intricacies of the relationship between Christ’s divinity and his humanity have important implications for the salvation that Christ came to win for his people. And it’s on this point that Charnock ends this section of his discussion. He concludes,

The divinity of Christ is as really united with the humanity as the soul with the body. The person was one, though the natures were two; so united, that the sufferings of the human nature were the sufferings of that person, and the dignity of the divine was imputed to the human by reason of that unity of both in one person. Hence the blood of the human nature is said to be the blood of God, Acts 20:28. All things ascribed to the Son of God may be ascribed to this man, and the things ascribed to this man may be ascribed to the Son of God, as this man is the Son of God eternal, almighty. And it may be said God suffered, was crucified, etc.; for the person of Christ is but one, most simple; the person suffered, that was God and man united, making one person.

You might have found today’s reflection a little complicated. But, if the incarnation is complicated, it is only the more mysterious. Because in the womb of the virgin that first Christmas was a boy about to be born. A boy unlike any other. A boy who was fully human, yet also fully divine. And it would be through him - indeed it could only be through him - that all the truths that we so preciously prize in the gospel would be won.

Charnock will turn to some of these in his final installment tomorrow. Make sure you join us then . . .