My Father, and Your Father: It seems like I spend so much time emphasizing the infinite distance between God and man, and I believe rightly so, and then Scripture places this astonishing truth right in the middle of everything: “For both he that sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one, for which cause he is not ashamed to call them brethren.” Hebrews 2:11. There is something almost impossible to take in there. The Christ before whom angels worship, the ONE by whom all things were made, the ONE we rightly speak of in the highest and loftiest terms imaginable, looks upon creatures of dust whom He has redeemed and is “not ashamed to call them brethren.” I don’t usually stop and look into the Greek behind a word, but this one made me curious. “Ashamed” carries the thought that Christ does not shrink back from being identified with His people. And when you really stop and think about who He is, and then think about what we are, that becomes overwhelming.
All of this was prompted by a small moment on my way to work one morning this week. Driving along and speaking to the Lord, I absentmindedly said, “Oh brother, please…” and immediately caught myself. It startled me, because that is certainly not how I ordinarily think of or address Christ. Ecclesiastes says, “God is in heaven, and thou upon earth: therefore let thy words be few.” There is something in me that feels the weight of that distance. Even the privilege of calling God “Father” – though Christ Himself teaches us to do so – can sometimes seem almost overwhelming. There is something in me that instinctively thinks of Christ in the fullness of His glory, far more than in terms of nearness or familiarity.
And yet Scripture says something that, apart from Scripture declaring it, I am not sure I would ever dare to say. After His resurrection Christ says: “Go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; and to my God, and your God.” John 20:17. “My brethren.” If these words had come from us, they would sound almost unthinkably bold. We would have no right to presume such nearness, no right to assign ourselves such a place, no right to speak as though the infinite distance between Christ and us had somehow disappeared. But He is the One who said it: “My brethren.”
Without Christ Himself saying it, I cannot imagine us ever claiming language like this. Servants, subjects, creatures, redeemed sinners – yes. But “my brethren.” That seems almost beyond the reach of human thought. And yet those are the very words chosen by the One who is infinitely above us. He remains the Lord of glory, speaking from all the fullness of who He is, and still He calls them His brethren. This is one of those places where Scripture seems to lift the soul beyond anything we would ever have imagined for ourselves.
We are not trying to bring Christ down into some imagined familiarity with ourselves. Not because He has been brought down to our level, but because in grace He has brought His people near. And somehow this makes His greatness seem greater rather than smaller. The higher our thoughts of Christ rise, the more astonishing it becomes that this glorious Christ is not ashamed to call us brethren. He remains infinitely above us. And yet He says, “My brethren.” I hardly know what to do with that except wonder. “Who is like unto the LORD our God, who dwelleth on high, Who humbleth himself to behold the things that are in heaven, and in the earth!” Psalm 113:5-6. MPJ