We must believe, according to certain critics of the Scriptures and the founders of false religions, that men are sufficient unto their own salvation—there is no need for a virgin-born Saviour. Others declare that the virgin birth is a mystery beneath the acceptance of modern minds. There can be no controversy with those of the first century for adhering to it, say such critics, because they did not enjoy the enlightenment that we possess. Then, too, they were perhaps rather zealous about their beliefs.
With great authority and finality, remarks such as these come from the lips of those who would reduce His birth to a rational basis, but it cannot be done. It must be accepted purely as a matter of faith. The human mind simply cannot understand it, and therein lies the license for some men to express their refusal to believe it.
Several years ago the writer met a young man who at the time was a medical student in one of our large eastern universities. After dinner the conversation turned to spiritual things. Presently he made the following remark: “What I cannot explain, I will not believe.” That was his attitude toward a personal God and all of His marvelous works. The writer asked the student what he had eaten for his dinner. Each item was promptly named.
“What is happening to it?”
At once came the reply, “It is being digested.”
“What will happen after that?”
“It will be absorbed and circulated throughout the body.”
“And what after circulation?”
Fully a minute elapsed with no reply forthcoming. The young man suddenly became strangely evasive and attempted to dodge the issue that he himself had raised. He was keen enough to foresee how his answer would involve a refutation of his original statement and boast.
Then appealing to the student’s own sense of veracity, the writer said, “Young man, if you have never been honest in your life, please be honest now. You surely have had sufficient scientific training to know what will take place next.” That was about the only way in which he could be restrained from evading the question and changing the subject.
With great reluctance he answered, “It will be assimilated.”
When urged for a definition of assimilation, he said that it was the changing of food into living matter, the process by which the food we eat is converted into the tissues of the body. Dead food becomes bone, nerve, heart, lung, etc.
The student was asked to explain it. Again he became very reticent about the matter. Finally he dropped his head and rather painfully said, “I can’t.”
“You believe it to be a natural process, Do you not?”
“Yes.”
“Does it operate in your body?”
“Yes.”
“How long has it been taking place?”
“Ever since birth.” He might have added, “Even before birth.”
“And you believe it?”
“I must believe it,” he answered.
“Yet you cannot explain it.”
“No, not at all.”
What I cannot explain, I will not believe. This mental device constituted what the student felt was an impenetrable defense against his own responsibilities toward the overtures God was making in his life.
A Christian cannot help but feel deeply sympathetic toward a young person who comes to realize the absurd position into which such boasting has inveigled him. Neither the medical student, nor any other individual on the face of the whole earth understands the intricacies of assimilation. Research has not yet revealed how the various cells of the body are able to take digested meat, and bread, and potatoes, and milk, or any other food, and convert it into matter like themselves. May we reiterate with vehemence that it lies completely within the realm of faith.
There are, furthermore, hundreds of items in man’s daily experience to which he gives credence, and for which he has no adequate explanation. Yet he resigns himself to them as contributing factors of an established order, and seldom considers the mechanics of their functions. Just so it is with all things divine, including the virgin birth of Christ. No one can fathom the complexity of a human birth, much less the birth of the Son of God. It is a mystery, a marvel. Faith bows and worships at His feet.
Written by Earl H. Tschudy