HE WAS REALLY HUMAN
We confess that Jesus is fully God—and rightly so; but we often rush past the wonder that He was also fully human. Not almost human. Not human in appearance only. Truly, completely, and without reserve—human. He did not float above our condition; He stepped down into it. He took on flesh, bone, breath, hunger, fatigue, tears. The Son of God learned what it meant to live as a son of Adam.
The Bible says it plainly: “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). Flesh—not an illusion, not a disguise. He entered the human story the same way we do—through birth, dependence, and growth. “The Child grew and became strong in spirit, filled with wisdom” (Luke 2:40). Wisdom learned. Strength developed. Years passed. Days unfolded. Jesus grew up.
He knew what it was to be tired. He slept in a boat while the storm raged (Mark 4:38). He knew hunger—“After fasting forty days and forty nights, He was hungry” (Matthew 4:2). He knew thirst—“I thirst” (John 19:28). He knew grief. Standing at Lazarus’ tomb, face to face with death and love intertwined, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). Those were not symbolic tears. They were human tears, falling from human eyes.
He felt temptation—not as a distant observer, but as one who stood in its full weight. “For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15). Tempted as we are—pressed, tested, pulled. He did not sin, but He felt the cost of obedience in a fallen world.
He learned obedience the hard way—through suffering. “Though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered” (Hebrews 5:8). That verse only makes sense if He was truly human. Learning. Suffering. Obeying when obedience was costly. He walked the same road we walk—only He walked it without ever turning aside.
And in His humanity, He sanctified ours. He showed us what it means to be human as God intended—dependent, trusting, prayerful, obedient, loving. He did not save us from a distance; He saved us from the inside. He became what we are, so that we might be restored in Him. “For both He who sanctifies and those who are being sanctified are all of one” (Hebrews 2:11).
Jesus understands you—not because He read about humanity, but because He lived it. When you are weary, He remembers weariness. When you are tempted, He knows the strain. When you weep, He has wept. He is not ashamed of your humanity; He shared it. He redeemed it. And even now, risen and glorified, He remains the Man Christ Jesus (1 Timothy 2:5).
This is the comfort of the Incarnation—not only that God came near, but that He came all the way.
BDD
