The Avoided Conversation Regarding the Humanity of the Christ
Jesus is the most misunderstood figure in human history. And when you add his humanity to the equation, people get uncomfortable. The idea of God becoming flesh—not just to preach sermons and perform miracles, but to sweat, cry, and feel overwhelmed—is something many prefer to avoid. It’s messy. It’s vulnerable. And it makes us confront emotions we’d rather bury. But that’s precisely why it matters. If you’ve ever felt alone, crushed by sorrow, or betrayed, then the humanity of Jesus is not just relevant—it’s essential.
When we look at the account in Gethsemane we see that Jesus has just shared the Last Supper, and Judas has left to finalize his betrayal. Now, Jesus takes his closest friends to a garden—a place meant for rest and reflection. But tonight, it becomes the setting for an emotional storm.
"My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me."
Pause.
Let those words sink in.
The Son of God, the one who walked on water and fed thousands with a boy’s lunch, admits he is overwhelmed. Not just sad. Not just stressed. Overwhelmed to the point of death. This is vulnerability on a level we rarely see, and it’s coming from the one we often expect to be invincible.
And what do his disciples do? They fall asleep. Not once. Not twice. Three times. Jesus—at his most vulnerable—is left to face the weight of the world alone.
This moment is heartbreakingly human. Jesus doesn’t suppress his emotions. He doesn’t pretend to be fine. He acknowledges his sorrow, and he invites his friends to share the burden. But even when they fail him, he doesn’t turn to anger or resentment. He turns to the Father.
Why This Offends Us
The humanity of Jesus offends our sensibilities. For the Jews of his time, the idea of God becoming human was blasphemous. God is holy, transcendent, and untouchable—not someone who bleeds and weeps. For the Greeks, it was absurd. Their gods might mingle with humans, but they never lowered themselves to human frailty. And for us? We’re uncomfortable with a Jesus who feels too much like us. We want him to be strong, stoic, and always in control—the hero who saves the day without breaking a sweat.
But this, is the paradox. Jesus’ humanity doesn’t diminish his divinity. It magnifies it! The infinite stepping into the finite is not a sign of weakness but of immeasurable love. It’s a God who refuses to stay distant, choosing instead to walk with us, feel with us, and ultimately suffer for us.
Jesus’ humanity also forces us to confront our own fragility. If he, the Son of God, experienced sorrow and needed connection, how much more do we? And yet, we often isolate ourselves, avoiding vulnerability at all costs. To admit weakness feels like failure. But Jesus teaches us that admitting our frailty is where true strength begins.
What Jesus does here is remarkable. He acknowledges His feelings honestly and vulnerably, inviting His closest friends into that space. But most importantly, He takes it all to His Father. He submits His emotions and His life to God, not demanding a change in the situation, but surrendering to the Father’s will. He demonstrates that if this is what the Father desires, then it is what He desires too.
Jesus didn’t just cheer up
Most of us have been conditioned to see emotions as a liability. If you’re sad, you’re told to cheer up. If you’re angry, you’re told to calm down. If you’re overwhelmed, you’re told to pull yourself together. But Jesus challenges this mindset. He doesn’t deny His feelings—He acknowledges them. He doesn’t hide His sorrow—He expresses it. And in doing so, He shows us that emotions are not something to fear or suppress—they are part of what it means to be fully human.
When Jesus says, “My soul is overwhelmed to the point of death,” He validates every moment you’ve ever felt crushed by life. He shows us that sorrow and strength can coexist. That it’s okay to feel deeply, as long as we bring those feelings to the One who can carry them.
This is a lesson many of us resist. We live in a culture that values productivity over presence. We’re told to “push through” rather than pause and process. But Jesus pauses. He prays. He doesn’t rush past His grief; He sits with it. And in that sitting, in that acknowledging, He shows us that vulnerability is not weakness—it’s an act of strength.
The humanity of Jesus is not a footnote in his story; it’s the heartbeat of the Gospel. Through his emotions—his sorrow, his anger, his vulnerability—we see a God who doesn’t just sympathize with our struggles but fully understands them. Jesus lived, suffered, and overcame so that we might find hope in our darkest moments. He shows us that it’s okay to feel deeply, to acknowledge pain, and to invite others into our journey. Most importantly, he reminds us to bring everything to the Father.
Whether you’re wrestling with grief, anger, or a storm you can’t yet name, remember this: You are not alone. Just as Jesus endured for the joy set before him, we too can stand firm, knowing that redemption is on the horizon. You may feel overwhelmed, but you are not overcome. Keep standing, keep trusting, and let the humanity and divinity of Christ carry you through.
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About the Author
Darren Stott is a pastor, speaker, and author known for his passion for seeing lives transformed by the presence of God. As the Lead Pastor of Eden Church, Darren has dedicated his life to creating spaces where people can encounter God’s love and power. He is also the founder of the brand-new 10:10 Group, Supernatural School, and Portals University, initiatives designed to equip individuals to walk in their full identity and purpose.
Stay connected with Darren by visiting www.darrenstott.com. Join the mailing list to stay updated on new resources, events, and teachings, including updates on the 10:10 Group, Supernatural School, and Portals University. Your journey into deeper faith and supernatural living starts here.