Soccer and Christ's hypostatic union

Goalkeepers are by far the most interesting players on the soccer field. They really do exist in two different planes. 

First, they are just like every other player. All the laws of soccer apply to them. The equipment rules are the same for every player. They take up a spot on the roster. They can go anywhere on the field and do everything that any other soccer player can do. All the rules apply to them. They are, in short, just another player.

But then there is the second plane: inside the penalty area, they suddenly acquire a new nature. When they are 18, they can use their hands. They are protected from challenges. Other players cannot interfere with their ability to release the ball. There is a whole set of rules governing what they are allowed to do with the ball when it is in their hands, and these rules don’t apply to the other players.

Basically, the goalkeeper is a walking contradiction. Now, for most keepers and in most games, the dual nature of the position is irrelevant. Many keepers are content to stay inside the area, doing goalkeeper things and being treated by fans, officials, and opponents alike as if they were special—because, let’s face it, when they are in the box, they are sort of special.

But every now and then, you’ll encounter a more adventurous keeper; one who leaves the 18 to take a free kick upfield or to release pressure by receiving passes. Sometimes they will go all the way to the other end to take a free kick, or get on the receiving side of a corner, or maybe just get involved in the attack.

Why would a keeper do this? Perhaps their team is down a goal, or maybe he has the best shot of anyone else? It could be that he just got bored staying put.  But the point is, he doesn’t really need a reason. After all, the other players don’t need special reasons to do what they do and once the keeper steps outside his box, he is just like every other player.

The hypostatic union is the theological term for Jesus, in his incarnation, who has two natures. He is (and always has been/always will be) the eternal Son of God, the second person of the Trinity. In Jesus, the fullness of God dwells. He has all the attributes of God, all the excellencies of Yahweh, and all the prerogatives of deity. They are all his. He is omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent. He is truly God. That is nature #1.

Jesus was also truly man, descended from Adam and Abraham, in the line of Judah and David. He was limited in time, space, and knowledge. He was just like every other player on the field in that he was truly human; that is nature #2.

Person/nature distinction

The goalkeeper also illustrates the person/nature distinction. A person possesses a nature and acts following that nature. It is important to understand that the keeper exists as a soccer player first, and only later does that individual player take on a second nature: that of a keeper. But he exists as a person (specifically as a soccer person) apart from the additional nature of a keeper.

Similarly, the eternal Son of God exists personally first, before the incarnation. Then, in the incarnation, he takes on second nature. He adds that human nature to his already existent personhood. And now, just as the soccer player turned keeper can play in or out of the box, the person of Jesus can operate from his divine nature, or from his human nature, without changing persons.

Kenosis

Finally, the analogy of the keeper is also helpful for understanding what is called the kenosis—which is simply a word that indicates the “emptying” of Jesus (Phil 2:7). In what sense did Jesus “empty himself of deity” when he became a man? Again, consider the keeper: when he leaves the 18, he is “emptying” himself of the prerogatives of being a keeper and limiting himself to the other players' rules. But he remains in the keeper jersey. He still possesses the nature of a keeper and has not really “emptied himself” of them. He has just taken on a different nature that necessarily veils them for the moment. He could step back into the box at any moment. 

With Jesus, he did not “empty” himself of his divine attributes. Rather he added a second nature to himself, a nature which by necessity veils his deity (for the moment).

Now, let’s bring all three of these together. Once the keeper leaves the area, he is truly just like every other player. Yet there is one small exception: the keeper has to wear a different colour jersey, even when he leaves the area. Why? To easily identify him. That way, the officials and opponents know who he is. When they see him, they intuitively know, “even though that guy is on the field, he has special abilities and prerogatives…they just don’t apply right now.” In other words, the uniqueness of the keeper’s jersey indicates the uniqueness of his two natures, even when he is operating as a field player and not taking advantage of his other nature.

In the hypostatic union, both of Jesus’ natures exist simultaneously in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, before adding to his person the second nature of humanity. When the person of the Son of God left heaven, entered the field, and now is playing like everyone else. He will, of course, still make his deity known. He is obviously a unique person, identifiable by others as the Messiah, but “the uniqueness of his identity depends upon his deity” (Wellum, God the Son Incarnate, 190). Jesus stands out even as a man because of his other nature before his humanity.

So next time you see a keeper field a ball with his feet, take a quick throw-in or venture up for a corner, don’t just think, “wow, that’s adventurous.” Instead, remember that he is choosing to limit himself, intentionally operating out of second nature but still identifiable as a keeper.

Veiled in yellow, the keeper be,
He still points us to the Trinity.
Pleased with Messi on the field to dwell,
Yet the true kenosis is our Immanuel.

Author: Jess Johnson