At the heart of Christmas and the Christian worldview is the Incarnation, when God took on flesh and, in Christ, became fully human. It’s a mystery, to be sure, but as humanity journeys further into this digital age, the idea of incarnation will only become increasingly strange. This virtual world of high-speed internet, social media, smartphones, and the cloud is increasingly disembodied. This can make it even harder to imagine why God would need to “take on flesh” in order to save the world. Could He not have just updated the software of our human hearts remotely? Why would God need to preach in person to a few thousand people at most when He could have posted on social media, slid into our DMs, or set up a Zoom meeting? Why bodily resurrect rather than update our consciousnesses in the cloud?

The reason, as C. S. Lewis argued in Miracles, is that the Incarnation is at the center of God’s redemptive plan for the world:

The central miracle asserted by Christians is the Incarnation. They say that God became Man. Every other miracle prepares for this exhibits this, or results from this.

Think about it. Without the Incarnation, there are no other miracles from Jesus: no water into wine, no walking on water, no healing the sick or raising the dead, no resurrection. And, for Lewis, this would be more than just an unfortunate loss to the Jesus story:

Just as every natural event is the manifestation at a particular place and moment of Nature’s total character, so every particular Christian miracle manifests at a particular place and moment the character and significance of the Incarnation. There is no question in Christianity of arbitrary interferences just scattered about. It relates not a series of disconnected raids on Nature but the various steps of a strategically coherent invasion—an invasion which intends complete conquest and “occupation.”

In other words, there’s an intentionality to God’s redemptive plan that we do not always consider. But it is clear that the plan is a big one. As early Christian theologian Gregory of Nazianzus famously said, “That which is not assumed is not healed.”

In this sense, the Incarnation ties the story of redemption together. To fully heal humanity, Christ became fully human. Even more, Christ taking on flesh validates creation. The way God made the physical and spiritual world is not a flawed design. It is, He said, “very good.”

Specifically, the Incarnation affirms that God’s design of the human person, body, and spirit is “very good.” As the Word made flesh, Jesus not only reveals God to man, but He also reveals man to himself. As the fullness of God in bodily form, as Paul put it, His incarnation is a mirror of the goodness of who we are, including our bodies. And Sam Allberry rightly observed: “Jesus’s incarnation is the highest compliment the human body has ever been paid.”

The Incarnation also bears witness to the seriousness of the Fall. How serious is humanity’s predicament if, to rescue us, Jesus had to condescend in this way and take on flesh? Only He, as the second Adam, could do what no human could. Through his perfect obedience and sacrifice on the cross, Jesus rescued humanity. And this obedience was done as a man, embodied both as a fulfillment of the requirements of the law and as an example to us of how to be human.

Also, the Incarnation makes the resurrection more than metaphor. He was born, He lived, and He died. In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul argued that because Christ’s resurrection is real, ours will be too. His resurrection secures our redemption, body, and soul and the renewal of creation, physical and spiritual. Thus, Lewis was also correct in observing that if the Incarnation happened, it “was the central event in the history of the earth, the very thing the whole story has been about.”

Source