Is Jesus supposed to be like us—our fully human companion who “gets us” because he lived exactly as we do? Or is Jesus supposed to be fully God—so far beyond us that he alone holds all things together? Or is he, somehow, both? And if we think of Jesus as relatable, is that really such a bad thing?
There’s something comforting about the idea that Jesus understands what it’s like to walk in our shoes. We want to believe that he knows what it feels like to be tired, frustrated, or overwhelmed. And Scripture does tell us that Jesus experienced hunger, grief, and rejection. But if we focus too much on making Jesus relatable, do we risk bringing him down to our level in ways that make him smaller than he really is? Do we emphasize his humanity so much that we lose sight of his divinity? If Jesus is just another flawed person like us, what hope does he really offer?
Side note—These are the kinds of questions that tend to land in my lap as a pastor—sometimes over coffee, sometimes in the church hallway, sometimes in the form of an email with the subject line: “Quick question!” (It’s never quick.) And once they find me, they take up residence in my brain, setting up shop until I finally get some thoughts down on my computer. I’m grateful for these conversations—I really am. What a gift it is to be entrusted with thinking deeply about our relationship with Jesus. But I’ll admit, they have a way of reshuffling my schedule. A five-minute chat can turn into an afternoon of wrestling with big questions about who Jesus really is—how his divinity and humanity fit together—when I was just trying to get through my to-do list. Now, back to my note…
I remember hearing a sermon once where the preacher described young Jesus staying behind in the temple in Luke 2. The pastor said Jesus was being “snotty” or “disrespectful” to his parents, and he found it refreshing because it reminded him of his own kids. The idea was that if Jesus acted this way, then maybe our own shortcomings aren’t such a big deal. But I think that misses the point. Jesus was fully human, but not because he was flawed. What makes us truly human isn’t our mistakes—it’s our ability to love, to serve, to seek after God. Jesus embodied all of that perfectly.
That doesn’t mean I don’t understand the desire to fit in, to feel like I belong. Truth be told, I often struggle with that myself. I’ve never quite felt like I fully belong anywhere. I love my congregation deeply, but I also recognize that being the pastor sets me apart in ways both good and hard. Even at home, my boys have had a unique experience growing up in the church as the pastor’s kids. I’ve never been able to sit with them in worship, never nudged them during a hymn to stand up straight, never whispered to them to stop fidgeting during the sermon. Church isn’t something we do together—it’s something they’ve had to navigate (to a unique degree) by themselves as the children of the pastor.
That’s one of the reasons I wear my “preaching shoes” every Sunday. They’re all gifts from my sons over the years. I don’t wear them to feel relatable or cool; I wear them because they remind me of the bond we share. It’s a small, silly thing, but for me, it’s a way to acknowledge that pastoral leadership isn’t just my journey—it’s something we’ve lived together as a family.
But here’s the thing: as much as I love my boys, as much as I cherish those sneakers, what I need most isn’t just to be understood. What I need most is grace. What I need is a Savior who isn’t just another flawed human, but someone who actually has the power to redeem and transform me. And that’s who Jesus is. Not just an example. Not just a relatable figure. But a gift. A Savior. The one who lifts us beyond our imperfections and invites us into the fullness of life with God.
However you find yourself thinking about Jesus these days—whether you’re longing for a Savior who understands your struggles or a Redeemer who lifts you beyond them—know that he meets you where you are. Jesus isn’t distant from your worries, nor is he too small to hold your hopes. He is both near and mighty, both tender and strong. My prayer for you is that in the moments you need him most, you will experience his presence in a way that speaks to your heart—whether as a friend who walks beside you, a guide who leads you forward, or the Savior who holds you fast in grace.
See you in church!
Pastor Adam
