In correspondence with an old
friend, a retired Princeton University professor, he detailed his objections to
the Christian faith. His final remark seemed to overshadow all other
considerations and was authoritatively written as if to definitively close the
argument: ‘Nor can I believe in a virgin birth.’ Such a belief was
apparently implausible, absurd, immature.
Why is the virgin birth often the
most problematic miracle to accept? Why is it more troubling than the thought
of Jesus walking on water? Or multiplying the loaves?
Perhaps because we are content to
let God do as he pleases with his own body, and we are delighted to be the
recipient of gifts. However, we are offended by the thought of a miracle that
inconveniences us, that has potential to disrupt our plans
and our preferences.
I considered responding to my friend
with positive reasons for believing in a virgin birth, but then I realized that
he was, in fact, already committed to a virgin birth.
We find one virgin birth in the
Christmas story: ‘How will this be,’
Mary asked the angel, ‘since I am a virgin?’ The angel answered, ‘The Holy
Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So
the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God’ (Luke 1:38).
Admittedly, this is out of the
ordinary. But criticism without alternative is empty; a hypothesis is only
plausible or implausible relative to what alternative hypotheses present
themselves. So what exactly is the alternative?
My colleague Professor John Lennox
recently debated another Princeton professor, Peter Singer, one of the world’s
most influential atheists. Lennox challenged him to answer this question: ‘Why
are we here?‘ And this was Professor Singer’s response: ‘We can assume that somehow in the
primeval soup we got collections of molecules that became self-replicating; and
I don’t think we need any miraculous or mysterious [explanation].‘(1)
Self-replicating molecules somehow
emerging out of a primeval soup strikes me as leaving substantial room for
mystery. In fact, without further clarification, this theory sounds not
dissimilar to a virgin birth.
Or take Cambridge physicist Stephen
Hawking’s latest attempt to propose an atheistic explanation for our
universe: ‘…the universe can and will
create itself from nothing. Spontaneous creation is the reason there is
something rather than nothing, why the universe exists, why we exist.’(2)
But physical matter doesn’t normally
materialize out of nothing, so this account also presents itself as outside the
realm of the ordinary. Is this a less miraculous birth than the Christmas
story?
Or, finally, consider the position
of the prominent atheist philosopher Quentin Smith: ‘The fact of the matter is that the most
reasonable belief is that we came from nothing, by nothing and for nothing . .
. We should . . . acknowledge our foundation in nothingness and feel awe at the
marvelous fact that we have a chance to participate briefly in this incredible
sunburst that interrupts without reason the reign of non-being.'(3)
That is a refreshingly honest
characterization, but again it is not at all clear why a foundation in
nothingness should be viewed as comparatively more reasonable than a foundation
in God.
The fact is, we live in a miraculous
world. Regardless of a person’s worldview, the extraordinariness of the
universe is evident to theists, atheists, and agnostics alike. It is therefore
not a matter of whether we believe in a virgin birth,
but which virgin birth we choose to accept.
We can believe in the virgin birth
of an atheistic universe that is indifferent to us—a universe where “there
is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil and no good, nothing but blind
pitiless indifference.”(3)
Alternatively, we can believe in the
virgin birth of a God who loves us so deeply that he “became flesh and made his
dwelling among us” (John 1:14). Emmanuel, God with us.
Jesus was born in fragility, like
the rest of us. The night before he died, he spoke words that resonate with
anyone who has known despair: “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point
of death” (Mark 14:34). Between birth and death, Jesus knew the experience
of weeping at a dear friend’s tomb (John 11:35); he also knew the
isolation of having friends desert him and flee when he needed them most
(Mark 14:50).
There is a depth of relationship
that is only possible between people who have been through the worst together.
Because of Jesus—because the one who birthed the universe was also born among
us—that depth of relationship is possible with God. That is what we celebrate
at Christmas.
Growing up near New York City, one
of my most vivid childhood memories of Christmas is of homeless people begging
on street corners. I would give some change if I had it, but imagine someone
who offered to trade his home for a cold street corner, who, instead of giving
a few coins, handed over the keys to his house. Imagine someone “who, being in
very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his
own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a
servant, being made in human likeness” (Philippians 2:6-7).
At Christmas, Jesus literally comes
and lives in our home—with all of its suffering and mess and shame—and he
offers us the home that it will one day be: an eternal home where ‘[God]
will wipe every tear from [our] eyes,‘ where there will be ‘no more
death or mourning or crying or pain.‘(5) Or, as Tolkein puts it, where ‘everything
sad will be made untrue.‘
Vince Vitale is a member of the
speaking team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Oxford, England.
(1) “Is There a God,” Melbourne, Australia,
20 July 2011.
(2) Stephen Hawking, The Grand Design (New York: Bantam, 2010), 180.
(3) Quentin Smith, “The Metaphilosophy of Naturalism,” Philo 4.2., 2000.
(4) Richard Dawkins, A River Out of Eden (New York: Perseus, 1995), 133.
(5) Revelation 21:4. For more on this topic, see Why Suffering?: Finding Meaning and Comfort When Life Doesn’t Make Sense, co-authored by Ravi Zacharias and Vince Vitale. Vince wrote his PhD on the problem of suffering. He now teaches at Wycliffe Hall of Oxford University and is Senior Tutor at The Oxford Centre for Christian Apologetics.
(2) Stephen Hawking, The Grand Design (New York: Bantam, 2010), 180.
(3) Quentin Smith, “The Metaphilosophy of Naturalism,” Philo 4.2., 2000.
(4) Richard Dawkins, A River Out of Eden (New York: Perseus, 1995), 133.
(5) Revelation 21:4. For more on this topic, see Why Suffering?: Finding Meaning and Comfort When Life Doesn’t Make Sense, co-authored by Ravi Zacharias and Vince Vitale. Vince wrote his PhD on the problem of suffering. He now teaches at Wycliffe Hall of Oxford University and is Senior Tutor at The Oxford Centre for Christian Apologetics.
Published on December 25, 2014 in A Slice of Infinity. “Our gift and invitation to you, that you
might further examine your beliefs, your culture, and the unique message of
Jesus Christ.”
To learn more about Ravi Zacharias International Ministries, go
here. http://www.rzim.org/
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