I remember the first time I saw a picture of this famous icon called "Christ Pantocrator.” We were sitting in our new church, a faint scent of incense lingering in the air. The sturdy old wooden pews supporting our bodies were a metaphor for the spiritual rest and support we’d found among this new community of believers. As he taught a sermon entitled “Christ the King,” our pastor invited us to look at this image, asking us to pay particular attention to Jesus’ face. After a few moments, he shared a quote from Paul Contino, a professor at Pepperdine University who had written about this icon:
“Observe the asymmetry of Jesus’s face, and pay particular attention to the eyes. From the viewer’s left, Jesus’s face is open and receptive, his eye projecting tenderness, acceptance, and mercy. Here is the redemptive Christ…
On the viewer’s right side, though, Jesus’s face is different. His lip turns slightly down, and his eye seems to scrutinize and judge the viewer. Here we are responsible for the violence that blights our world. Jesus’s eye interrogates: What have we done, and what have we left undone?”
The nuances are subtle. But they are visible, especially with close attention. A few moments later, he showed us another picture. This one shows what it would look like if the two sides of Jesus’ face from Christ Pantocrator were depicted separately:
In this second image, what was nuanced and subtle becomes more apparent to the eye. The left embodies a Jesus who feels tender, more approachable, and even somewhat sad—our suffering Savior, whose compassion and love for us compelled him to offer his life in our place. The right embodies a Jesus who feels powerful and fearsome—our righteous Judge and King who rules and reigns over all creation.
Like me, your eyes may gravitate toward one image more than the other. Maybe the softer face of Jesus on the left draws you in, offering you comfort amid grief or rest from striving. Or maybe your eyes lock onto the image of a powerful Jesus on the right, helping you feel safe and secure in a world that feels anything but.
For the first fifteen years of my faith journey, my eyes could see nothing but the image of a holy and fierce Jesus. This fragmented perspective of Christ cut me off from experiencing him fully. But the Christ Pantocrator icon invites us to embrace the both/and nature of Jesus. It invites us into a relationship with the whole Christ—one who is both merciful and just, familiar and wholly other.
The complexity of Christ's character isn't just confined to ancient art. One recent example that brought this tension to my mind was my experience with the television series “The Chosen." I remember the first time I watched season one. The producers' depiction of a Jesus who laughed, danced, joked around with his disciples, and even played with the children frustrated and unsettled me. I was comfortable with a holy, powerful, and even stern Jesus. But this other Jesus was so unfamiliar to me that it felt like they had taken too many liberties. So, I stopped watching it. That is, until recently.
Two years ago, God began re-introducing himself to me—through his Word, through his church, and through his creation. He’s been revealing my tendencies to stiff-arm aspects of his character—things like his love for and delight in me. He has been inviting me to be in a relationship with him, not just as my Lord and King but also as my Father and Friend. And, contrary to what I thought the first time I watched “The Chosen,” no aspect of Christ’s character diminishes any other aspect. Jesus invites us to receive him. As he is. In all his fullness.
As I have reflected on this, it occurs to me that we are often more comfortable with a God who fits into clean categories than we are with the true God. This God who refuses to be contained. We crave simple answers, predictability, and certainty because they alleviate feelings of insecurity and powerlessness. At least temporarily. But God invites us to wholeness through mystery, complexity, and unresolved tension.
The Bible is God’s self-revelation. Through it, he enables us to know who he says he is and how he operates. Like the image of Christ Pantocrator, the Bible is layered and complex, full of paradox. It confronts us with questions like: Is God sovereign, or are we responsible? Did God choose us, or did we choose him? Is it faith alone, or does our obedience matter? Is Jesus a fearsome King, or is he a compassionate and approachable friend? The answer to these and other similar questions is “Yes.” An answer that is as maddening as it is freeing. We can attempt to simplify it, separating the seeming contradictions and focusing on what we find more palatable, but what do we lose in the process?
One of my spiritual fathers once taught a group of us an important lesson about dealing with biblical tensions. He said that whenever we attempt to resolve a tension the Bible seems uninterested in resolving, we should 'choose our heresy.' He warned us that we risk falling into error whenever we try to make the Bible clearer than it actually is on complex issues.
He illustrated his point by addressing the often-asked question: "Is salvation through free will (we choose God) or through election (God chooses us)?" To answer this, he shared a story that one of his theology professors once told him:
“I imagine that when I die and stand outside heaven’s gate, I will look up and see, ‘For all who choose to enter,’ and then after walking in, I will look back and see written on the back side of the gate, ‘You were chosen from the foundation of the world.’”
His point was that when we oversimplify in pursuit of certainty, we risk flattening what is often robust and complex—like separating the two faces of Christ in Christ Pantocrator loses the nuance of the whole face of Christ.
During Jesus’ ministry, he often challenged people’s long-held beliefs and presuppositions. He didn’t fit into their neat theological constructs or comfortable categories. They couldn’t, and sometimes wouldn’t, see beyond their belief systems. As a result, they missed him. Two thousand years later, we’re often still uncomfortable with a God we cannot fully comprehend. But a God we can understand is a God we can control, and a God we can control is a God who is powerless to save.
How do we reconcile a Savior who embodies such complexity—one who brings both peace and conflict? Who offers an easy yoke and demands we take up our cross? Who zealously overturned tables in the temple and also humbly knelt to wash the feet of those who would abandon and betray him? Who forgives sin and also calls us to obedience? Who is meek and mild and also mighty and fearsome? Who is friend and brother and also Lord and King?
In his classic book, "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," C.S. Lewis illustrates the difficulty of reconciling these tensions. When the main characters first encounter Aslan, the Christ-like lion, they don’t know what to do or say because those who have never been to Narnia “sometimes think a thing cannot be terrible and good at the same time.”
We tend toward binary thinking—believing a thing must be either this or that, but not both. Like those who have never been to Narnia, we wonder how something can simultaneously be wholly good and terrible. But our human limitations are not a problem for an unlimited God.
For every passage in Scripture that comforts and encourages us, there is a passage that unsettles or even outright offends us. But we can't pick and choose from God’s word without losing the power of it. And we can’t pick and choose attributes of Jesus without losing the essence of Jesus in the process.
God’s self-revelation through his word may sometimes leave us with more questions than answers. But this, too, is a grace. Our intellect can become a crutch that stunts rather than strengthens our faith. In his infinite wisdom, God made it difficult for us to lean on our “rightness” or ability to figure things out. These ambiguities invite us instead to lean on his faithfulness, which has been most definitively proven through Jesus.
So, what do we do when we encounter passages in the Bible that unsettle or offend us? How can we be at peace with a God we cannot fully comprehend? How can we embrace a God who is both/and and not either/or?
Humility
The first and most important thing we can do in our relationship to God’s word is to be humble. As Lewis so wisely wrote, those who have never been to Narnia can’t understand how two seemingly opposing things can both be true at the same time. God created humanity with a tremendous capacity for creativity, intelligence, and innovation. But we are not God, so our ability to comprehend the things of God is limited.
To be humble means to have a right estimation of oneself. It involves recognizing and accepting our limited capacities to understand an unlimited God. To be humble also means to put oneself in its proper place before a holy God—to acknowledge that there is a God and we are not him.
When confronted with something we dislike or don’t understand, it is crucial to remember: if we knew what God knows, we would do what God does.
Trust
In John 6, Jesus teaches the crowd that to have eternal life, they must “eat his flesh and drink his blood” (vs. 52-59). This is understandably a difficult saying. And after they heard it, many were offended and chose to turn back and no longer follow him. Seeing this, Jesus turns to his twelve disciples and asks, “Do you want to go away as well?” (v. 67). Peter answers him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God” (v. 68-69).
Peter likely also wrestled with Jesus’ teaching. In fact, throughout the gospels, we see the disciples struggling to understand what Jesus is saying. They are confused and confounded by his teaching and actions. Sometimes, they even warn him that he is offending people. So how is it that, despite this, Peter continues following Jesus when many others turn away?
He believed in the person of Jesus even when he didn’t fully understand the words or ways of Jesus.
Following Jesus isn’t easy. If we don’t trust him, we will find it difficult. He confronts us with hard truths and calls us into uncomfortable places. But when we have spent time in his presence, encountered him in meaningful ways, and seen his power at work in our lives and the lives of others, we won’t find it easy to walk away. Because we have come to know that he is the Holy One of God and has the words of eternal life.
Humility is the fertile soil in which trust can flourish. When we accept that our understanding is limited, we create space for trust to grow. Instead of relying on our own intellect to resolve every tension, we learn to trust the Lord even amid complexity.
Surrender
When an angel of the Lord visits a young, unwed girl named Mary and tells her she is to give birth to a son, her first response is, “How will this be, since I am a virgin” (Luke 1:34)? Mary is undoubtedly curious and confused about how such a thing could happen when she has never known a man.
Mary’s pregnancy would not only raise eyebrows, but it would also raise serious accusations against her. A pregnant, unwed woman in Mary’s day would face public shame. Her fiance, Joseph, could have divorced her, furthering her disgrace. And she could be ostracized and forced out of her community and face poverty and destitution. Some could have even made a case that she should be stoned for breaking God’s law. And yet, she responds to the angel’s news with, “I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).
She had little information to go on but enough to know the road ahead wouldn’t be easy. How could a vulnerable young woman entrust herself to the Lord so thoroughly, even in the face of possibly dire consequences? Her trust in him empowered her surrender to him.
The Lord and his word don’t always call us to easy things. We are called to sacrifice and suffering. Ultimately, we are called to surrender through obedience. However, we will not surrender when we think we have all the answers or when we require certainty to move forward. We will not surrender to someone we do not trust. Humility and trust are critical components in living a life surrendered to a God we cannot understand.
The image of Christ Pantocrator reminds us of the profound complexity embodied in Jesus' face. The icon invites us to embrace the fullness of Christ's nature. Like the asymmetry in Jesus' face, the seeming contradictions we encounter in Scripture and in our understanding of God are not flaws to be corrected but depths to be explored.
God is bigger than our binaries. He is far more robust than our clean categories. And he invites us to live in the "both/and" rather than the "either/or" because it is in this place that God often does some of His most transformative work. As we embrace the complexities of God and his word with humility, trust, and surrender, we discover that these tensions are not obstacles to our faith. They are pathways to wholeheartedness.
Love you guys,
CC
P.S. Be sure to check out the latest update below!
Engage, Explore, Encounter
How do you relate to the two sides of Christ's face in the Pantocrator icon? Which aspect of Jesus do you find yourself drawn to more often? Why do you think that is?
In what ways have you struggled with the complexity of God's nature as revealed in Scripture?
How can embracing the complexity of God's nature lead to a more mature and balanced faith?
Latest Update!
The Encountering Jesus in John Advent Study is Now Available in Paperback on Amazon!
Christmas is just around the corner.
47 days until Advent begins! 😳😮🕯️
The Christmas season🎄always sneaks up on me; before I know it, we're halfway through December.
Now is the time to begin making plans for Advent!
The good news of Christ's arrival is the most substantive, hope-filled story ever told!
God came near! He is Emmanuel, God WITH us.
He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.
He is the Good Shepherd who cares for and tends to his people.
He is the Bread of Life who nourishes and sustains us.
He is the Great High Priest who represents us before the Father.
Jesus' arrival was not just the story of a helpless babe being born to an unwed mother of little means.
It's the story of the God of the universe entering into our suffering and bringing with him the promise of:
Rest for the weary
Freedom for the captives
Healing for the broken-hearted
Hope for the hopeless
I created "Encountering Jesus in John" to help us have a meaningful encounter with Jesus during the Christmas season.
This self-paced study is good for individuals and groups.
It includes 12 videos and a 60-page workbook, now available in a paperback version on Amazon here!
There are many great Advent resources (and I am glad to recommend some if you'd like)! Whether you choose to use the "Encountering Jesus in John" study or any other resources available, I hope you encounter and experience the rich hope of Christ this Advent!
And, if you went through the Advent study last year, would you leave a review on Amazon? You can do so here.
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