I am enthralled by Incarnation.   Incarnation, simply yet profoundly stated, is the idea of God with us.  God took on flesh.  God as us.

God, Incarnation teaches us, is not afraid to get dirty.

I believe this to be true.  I stake my faith on this.  If God is not for us and as our Creator is too far removed or too busy or too prude to become one of us, than I can’t see much reason to love and serve this God.  I don’t need nor want a dead-beat God.

And so it is that I find my dedication to Incarnation a bit ironic to me today as I ponder the ways I have historically insisted on a virgin birth.  I guess I just never gave it much thought, choosing to just believe the traditional story.  But it’s interesting, isn’t it?   A beautiful and powerful thing like Incarnation gets sullied when we try to clean it up through a Holy Spirit consummation.

What if the story is very different from the one we have been told?

I was fascinated to learn that Aristotle, writing 300 years before Christ, taught that a woman was defective by nature because she did not produce semen.  When a man and woman have intercourse it was believed that the man provided the whole of the human being (the soul) which was contained only in the semen.  Aristotle concludes,

A male is male in virtue of a particular ability, and a female in virtue of a particular inability (Generation of Animals, I, 82F)

What is so fascinating about this is how it has gripped our imaginations for so long!  St. Augustine carried this same reasoning with him in his writing nearly 600 years later (300 years after Christ) and Thomas Aquinas did the same in the 1200′s.  All three of these men are spiritual giants in our Church’s theological imaginations and all three of them were rather clueless about human reproduction.

Aquinas reinvigorated Aristotelian thought, arguing that the semen provided the virtus formativa, a formative power to make use of the otherwise useless matter of menstrual fluids.   Semen had the power to make a human life and carried with it the force and form of how that life would look.

Enter into such a world of reproductive thought the scandalous idea of God becoming flesh.   It’s no wonder we have a virgin birth story!  (Granted, ours is not the only virgin birth story that exists in antiquity. Other deity stories are told through a virgin birth as well).

I wonder what happened.  Mark and John say nothing of the birth of Jesus.  Matthew and Luke give us some back story, but the text itself is too vague for us to conclude definitively one way or the other what was going on.   The greek for “virgin” literally means “young girl” and while there are cues from other texts, (such as “How can this be, since I am a young girl?” (Lk. 1:34)), this doesn’t rule out the possibility that Mary has had sex.

I made a life out of lying about my sexual escapades.   Am I to believe that Mary is so different from I?  Or you?   Am I to believe that someone like her, or me, cannot be visited by the Most High God to be the bearer of salvation to the world?

Or does salvation only come through life-forms unsullied by semen?

You see, I think it’s a better story if Mary is caught in an impossible situation of being found pregnant while unwed in a patriarchal society where she would be shunned at best, stoned at worst.  A cover-up is hatched and the couple flees town in the middle of night.  No one will even give them a room in which to sleep.  So they end up homeless in a barn.

But they can’t escape God.   God wanted – needed – a body.

What better body to take than the one born to a young girl out of wedlock fearing for her life?

I’m not so sure I am convinced of this as I write it.  But it’s something worth thinking about, isn’t it?

Incarnation is central to our Christian faith.  But how we think of that is equally important.   Does God get dirty with us?  Does God take something hopeless and bring about the greatest miracle the world has ever known yet fails to believe?  

How does believing Mary to be a virgin, unspoiled by semen, make your faith more alive?  How might believing the above do the same?