Systematic TheologySample

Jesus is the ultimate paradox—the God-Man, the eternal Word wrapped in flesh, walking among us with dusty sandals and divine authority. If you’re looking for a simple explanation, you won’t find one. But that’s the beauty of it. Christianity isn’t built on clean, logical categories; it’s built on the mind-blowing reality of Jesus Christ, fully God and fully man.

At the heart of this is the hypostatic union—a theological flex that means Jesus wasn’t 50% God and 50% man, but 100% both. Two natures, one person. It’s the kind of thing that makes theologians lose sleep, and angels break out in worship.

Jesus called Himself the “Son of Man,” and that wasn’t just some poetic self-description. In Daniel’s vision, the “Son of Man” is this divine human figure who’s handed an eternal kingdom. Jesus wasn’t dropping random nicknames—He was claiming cosmic authority. And then He doubled down by using “Kurios” (Lord), the Greek word reserved for Yahweh. Translation? “I am God.” Mic drop.

If that weren’t enough, Jesus did things only God can do. He commanded storms like they were disobedient toddlers, multiplied food out of thin air, read people’s thoughts, and, oh yeah, forgave sins. No prophet ever did that. He wasn’t just a messenger—He was the message.

But Jesus was also profoundly human. He got tired, hungry, and probably sunburned. He wept at funerals, got frustrated with His disciples, and experienced real pain. The incarnation wasn’t a divine costume—it was God experiencing life as we do. And yet, unlike us, He never sinned. He was humanity as it was meant to be.

Why does this matter? Because if Jesus wasn’t fully human, He couldn’t stand in our place. And if He wasn’t fully God, His sacrifice wouldn’t be enough. The early church fought heresies that tried to oversimplify this—Nestorianism (two Jesuses), Monophysitism (a weird God-man hybrid), and Docetism (Jesus was a hologram). The Council of Chalcedon set the record straight: Jesus is one person with two distinct natures.

Today, culture tries to make Jesus into a guru, a moral teacher, or a self-help brand. But the real Jesus is more radical than any of that. He’s the Lamb and the Lion, the Servant and the King. He’s not a footnote in history—He is history.

And the only response that makes sense? Worship. Awe. And a life shaped by the One who is fully God, fully man, and fully worthy of everything.