Some Thoughts on the Virgin Birth

It must strike everybody who carefully reads the Scripture record concerning the virgin birth how simple and sober it is. Of those many theories woven around it later on, and on which the rejection of the virgin birth was based, we find not the slightest indication. One must, indeed, be very critically preoccupied to think that this account fits in beautifully with the heathenish imaginations of the Caesarean era. In the text there is no trace of such indications, but only an account, in simple language, concerning the sovereign act of the Holy Spirit, “The Holy Spirit shall come upon thee, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee.”

The power of the Spirit is announced here; the overshadowing, a word which is also used in the account of the transfiguration on the mount: a cloud which overshadowed them. The emphasis in this overshadowing is on the divine power by which the birth of Messiah is announced. When Barth remarked that the accent in this power of the Spirit over Mary was not on generatio but on jussio or benedictio, Kohnstamm raised the question how such a fine distinction could be preached and presented to heathen people as a missionary message. But apparently this had been done since earliest times without for a moment impairing the unique character of this overshadowing. There is not a trace of justification for Kohnstamm’s reference to a marriage of deities. This is, moreover, confirmed by Joseph’s position in the Christmas account. The act of the Spirit is of a very special character and must indeed be described as jussio or benedictio, the supreme power in this unique event by which he, who is the Son of the Father, is born as a man of Mary. This limits all speculation. Whoever attempts to draw a parallel between this act of the Spirit and mythological relationships tries to give an explanation of that which finds its origin only in the power of God. This act of the Spirit, of which both Matthew and Luke testify, points out the uniqueness of Christ’s birth which can be known only by divine revelation. The entire story has come to us in an explicitly historic entourage including Mary, Joseph, and the message of the angel.

Revelation alone can shed light on this story, not biological theories or historical speculations. It bears no marks of human construction; it speaks only to the fulfillment of that which had been prophesied. Every attempt to explain the birth account mythologically misses the context of the story.…

Often a connection was seen between the virgin birth of Christ and those births of children in the Old Testament which revealed a new sovereign act of God. The question was raised whether these events did not indicate some obvious relationship. Stauffer remarks that the idea of the virgin birth was foreshadowed “by the accounts of the miraculous births of Isaac, Joseph, Samson, Samuel, and John the Baptist” (Theol. des. A.T., p. 98).

When we read these birth accounts, it always strikes us how God’s activity is emphasized. The accent is on Rachel’s barrenness, which God in answer to prayer terminates. Sarah’s barrenness is no less emphasized. Over against Abraham’s self-willed sovereign doings (Hagar) God places the true sovereignty of his own dealings. Their impotence in connection with the promise is strongly brought out and is accentuated by Sarah’s laughing after the annunciation of the birth of a son (Gen. 18:10, 11). She mentions her own withered condition and Abraham’s old age (vs. 12).

Her laughing corresponds with Abraham’s unbelief at the previous annunciation of this birth: he laughed and said in his heart, “Shall a child be born unto him that is a hundred years old? and shall Sarah, that is ninety years old, bear?” (Gen. 17:17). God’s miracle, announced in the answer after Sarah’s laughing, “Is anything too hard for Jehovah?” (Gen. 18:14), and the birth of Isaac are described with great emphasis on God’s activity: “And Jehovah visited Sarah as he had said, and Jehovah did unto Sarah as he had spoken, For Sarah conceived, and bare Abraham a son in his old age” (21:1, 2).

Samson’s birth, too, is presented in the light of the miraculous over against the impotent barrenness of Manoah’s wife (Judges 13:2). We also see the miracle of this new soteriological act expressed in the name of the angel of the Lord: “Wherefore askest thou after my name, seeing it is wonderful?” (vs. 18). Again, we read of Hannah’s barrenness. The Lord had shut up her womb (1 Sam. 1:5; cf. vss. 2, 8). Her prayer is answered, but it is expressly stated that Samuel is the child of Elkanah and Hannah (vs. 19). God’s remembering her evidently does not eliminate the procreation, and Hannah sighs praises to God for his wonderful deeds (1 Sam. 2, esp. vs. 5). Finally, we read of Elizabeth’s barrenness on account of her old age (Luke 1:7). She, too, praises God’s doings: “Thus hath the Lord dealt with me in the days wherein he looked upon me, to take away my reproach among men” (vs. 25).

When considering these data we may ask what Stauffer means by saying that the idea of the virgin birth is “prepared and pre-arranged” by all these events. He finds the same idea in Matthew and Luke, who, according to him, “wish to bring out that Christology reaches back into the grey past” and that the idea of the virgin birth “has been suggested by similar religious-historical representations.” These Old Testament stories do not, however, explain the virgin birth. They illustrate God’s grace and power in his dealings with his people, but the question of fatherhood plays no role at all. God’s miracle shatters the curse of barrenness; but that is not the point with regard to Christ’s birth. Elizabeth is even mentioned in the annunciation to Mary, “… in her old age; and this is the sixth month with her who was called barren. For no word from God shall be void of power.” But in Mary’s case the situation is entirely different. Christ’s birth is entirely unique: it is the mystery of the incarnation. We are not dealing with a general miraculous power which manifests itself in Mary’s life and which is of the same nature as the other manifestations. The annunciations in the Old Testament birth accounts differ greatly from the annunciation of Christ’s birth, and the reason for this difference lies in the nature of this mystery: the Word is become flesh.

The confession of Christ’s virgin birth has been the object of criticism for about a century. To a certain extent this criticism was the result of theories and ideas which in the course of history had been developed with regard to the relationship between this birth and that which, according to Scripture, may and must be considered holy. This article was also criticized for another reason, namely that it seemed particularly to stress the “supernatural” as a reality by itself entering the “natural.” But this was criticizing an article after it had been stripped of the personal character of what took place: the coming of the Son. The anti-mythical tendencies of this century and the preceding one apparently had no more use for this confession. And so the belief in the virgin birth was replaced by a respect either for the miracle (Brunner) or for the sanctity of matrimony. It will be up to the Church to show the way back to the scriptural witness, so that the incarnation may once more be adored not as a breathtaking “cosmological” event but as Christ’s taking the way of poverty and forsakenness. Christ was not an ideal person who groped for the upward way but the incarnated Word, who, as God’s Messiah, was not subjected to God’s curse in order that he might take this curse upon himself.

Noordmans says correctly that there is more at stake in the virgin birth than simply an incidental event which does not agree with the scientific mind, or which can become an insurmountable obstacle to those aliented from the Church. A veil must cover this indivisible mystery, and if the Church has any misgivings here she had better return quickly to the old story of the angels’ song and the annunciation; the swaddling clothes and the adoration; the old story of holiness and guilt.—G. C. BERKOUWER, The Work of Christ (Eerdmans, 1965), pp. 111–13, 131–34. Used by permission.

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