Why Jesus Had to Become Human
What’s Hebrews 2 about?
This chapter tackles one of the most profound questions in all of Scripture: Why did the Son of God have to become human? The author shows us that Jesus didn’t just visit earth as God—he had to fully enter our human experience, complete with suffering and death, to accomplish something that couldn’t be done any other way.
The Full Context
The letter to the Hebrews was written to Jewish Christians who were facing intense persecution and considering abandoning their faith in Jesus to return to Judaism. Written likely between 60-70 AD, this anonymous author (though traditionally attributed to Paul, the style suggests otherwise) crafts a sophisticated theological argument showing why Jesus is superior to every aspect of the old covenant—angels, Moses, the priesthood, and the sacrificial system. Chapter 2 comes right after the author’s opening argument that Jesus is superior to angels, but now he must address an obvious question: if Jesus is so exalted, why did he have to suffer and die like a common criminal?
This passage fits perfectly within the book’s overall structure as part of the author’s systematic demonstration of Christ’s supremacy. But here’s the genius move—instead of downplaying Jesus’ humanity, the author argues that his full participation in human nature was absolutely essential for salvation. The chapter addresses a critical theological puzzle that early Christians wrestled with: how can someone who is truly God also be truly human? And why would that even be necessary? The cultural background here is crucial—both Jewish and Greco-Roman thinking struggled with the idea of deity becoming truly human, seeing it as beneath the divine nature.
What the Ancient Words Tell Us
The Greek word katartisai in Hebrews 2:10 is fascinating—it means “to make perfect” or “to complete,” but it’s the same word used for mending fishing nets or setting a broken bone. God wasn’t improving Jesus’ character; he was completing his qualification as our High Priest through the experience of suffering.
When we look at Hebrews 2:14, the word kekoinoneken (shared in common) is incredibly intimate—it’s the same root used for fellowship and communion. Jesus didn’t just put on humanity like a costume; he entered into full partnership with our human experience.
Grammar Geeks
When the author quotes Psalm 8:4-6 in Hebrews 2:6-8, he’s doing something brilliant with the Hebrew word enosh (mankind). In the psalm, it’s about human dignity and calling, but the author shows how it perfectly describes the incarnate Jesus—true man fulfilling humanity’s original purpose.
The phrase “for a little while lower than the angels” uses the Greek brachy ti, which can mean either “for a little while” or “a little bit lower.” The ambiguity is actually perfect—Jesus was temporarily lower in his earthly state, but also just slightly lower in terms of taking on human nature.
What Would the Original Audience Have Heard?
Picture Jewish believers who grew up hearing about angels as God’s supreme messengers, the beings who delivered the Law at Sinai, who shut lions’ mouths for Daniel and appeared to their ancestors with earth-shaking power. Now they’re being told that someone greater than these magnificent beings chose to become lower than them?
The original readers would have immediately caught the shocking reversal here. In their worldview, you always moved up the cosmic ladder—from human to angelic to divine. But Jesus moved down—from divine to human, from exalted to suffering. This wasn’t weakness; it was the ultimate demonstration of strength.
Did You Know?
First-century Jewish writings like 1 Enoch and Jubilees were obsessed with angelic hierarchies and their power. For the author to argue that becoming human—lower than angels—was actually Jesus’ path to ultimate exaltation would have been mind-blowing to readers steeped in this literature.
When these persecuted believers heard Hebrews 2:11—that Jesus calls them “brothers”—they weren’t hearing a nice sentiment. They were hearing that the one who is heir of all things, through whom God made the universe, considers them family. In a culture where family loyalty was everything and shame was the worst fate, this was revolutionary comfort.
Wrestling with the Text
Here’s what stops me cold every time I read this: Hebrews 2:17 says Jesus “had to be made like his brothers in every way.” Had to be. Not chose to be, not decided it would be nice—had to be.
Why was incarnation necessary? Couldn’t an all-powerful God have saved us some other way? The text suggests that something about justice, something about the nature of sin and death itself, required this specific solution. A representative who hadn’t fully entered our condition couldn’t truly represent us.
Wait, That’s Strange…
Hebrews 2:16 says Jesus doesn’t give help to angels but to Abraham’s descendants. Why mention angels here? Because fallen angels exist too, but Jesus’ mission was specifically to humanity. The incarnation was targeted rescue, not universal rehabilitation.
The logic is stunning when you think about it: To destroy the one who holds the power of death, Jesus had to enter the realm where death has power. To free those enslaved by fear of death, he had to experience death himself. You can’t break chains you’ve never worn.
How This Changes Everything
This isn’t theology for theology’s sake—this is the most practical truth imaginable. If Jesus remained safely divine, untouched by human limitation, then his victory would be irrelevant to our struggle. But because he chose human weakness, his strength is available to us in our weakness.
When you’re facing something that makes you feel abandoned, Hebrews 2:18 tells us Jesus “is able to help those who are being tempted” precisely because he was tempted. Not in spite of his humanity, but because of it.
“The Word became flesh not to show us how human God could become, but to show us how divine humans could become.”
The early Christians weren’t just getting a better religion—they were being invited into the family business of being human the way it was always meant to be. Jesus didn’t just save us from something; he saved us to something: the original calling to rule creation as God’s image-bearers, now made possible through his perfect humanity.
This means your struggles aren’t disqualifying you from God’s purposes—they’re part of how you’re being equipped for them. Every limitation you face, Jesus faced. Every temptation that haunts you, he understands. Every fear that grips you, he conquered not by avoiding it, but by walking through it.
Key Takeaway
Jesus didn’t become human despite being God—he became human precisely because he’s God, and only perfect divinity could rescue broken humanity by fully entering into it.
Further Reading
Internal Links:
External Scholarly Resources:
- The Epistle to the Hebrews by F.F. Bruce
- Hebrews by William Lane
- The Letter to the Hebrews by Craig Koester
Tags
Hebrews 2:10, Hebrews 2:14, Hebrews 2:17, Hebrews 2:18, Psalm 8:4-6, Incarnation, Suffering, High Priest, Temptation, Death, Salvation, Brotherhood, Angels, Humanity, Divinity
