INCARNATION (σάρκωσις). - A term with a Semitic flavor, derived from the Johannine expression (Jn 1:14: καὶ ὁ λόγος σάρκῳ ἐγένετο), in which the word σάρκῳ (flesh) simply signifies human nature, according to biblical usage (cf. Gen 6:12; Is 40:5; Rom 3:20), which continues in tradition from the first century onward. St. Ignatius the Martyr (Eph. 7:2) says that Jesus Christ is God in the flesh (ἐν σαρκὶ γενόμενος θεός); St. Irenaeus is the first to use the term σάρκωσις and writes indifferently that the Word became flesh and became man (Adv. haer., III, 19; V, 18). Similarly, Origen (De princ., I; praef., 4). The Nicene-Constantinopolitan Symbol sanctions the traditional equivalence of the two terms σάρκωσις-ἐνσαρκωσις (incarnate-inhumanated). Despite the abusive interpretation of the Apollinarians in the 4th century, who reduced the human nature of Christ to flesh animated only by a sensitive soul, the term I. (σάρκωσις) prevailed over others with which Holy Scripture and the Fathers are accustomed to indicate the mystery of the union of the Word with human nature, such as ἐφανερώθη ἐν σαρκὶ (1 Tim 3:16); ἐκένωσεν (Phil 2:7); ἐπιφάνεια (2 Tim 1:10); λήψις (Heb 2:16); and among the Fathers: οἰκονομία (dispensatio = divine plan for the salvation of men; cf. Irenaeus, Adv. haer., III, 17, 4; IV, 26, 1); ἀνάληψις, ἐνσωμάτωσις, συνόδος (cf. Petavius, De incarn. II, 1).
The real meaning of I. in the active sense is the divine action by which, in the most pure womb of the Virgin Mary, a determined human nature is formed and united hypostatically to the Word. In the passive sense, I. is a marvelous and singular union of the divine nature and the human nature in the one Person of the Word.
This truth is the central mystery of Christianity; it must be studied from two aspects: first, in its origin, its relationship with man, its history, its conditions and purposes; and this almost extrinsic aspect will be the subject of the present treatment. Then I. can be considered intrinsically in its essential constitution and its immediate consequences; for this aspect V. HYPOSTATIC UNION.
OUTLINE: I.
I. in Holy Scripture
II. Tradition
III. Theology of the I
IV. Transcendence of the mystery of the I.I.
I. in Holy Scripture
The most formal and explicit revelation of I. is in the prologue of the Fourth Gospel: "And the Word became flesh" (Jn 1:14). But already in the Old Testament the future Messiah is spoken of as a person both human and divine (v. JESUS CHRIST). He will be the seed of the woman, born of a woman (Gen 3:14-15), but also the Son of God (Ps 2:7; ibid. 109); he will be a child conceived of a Virgin (Is 7:14), but also the Mighty God (ibid. 9:6); he will be the faithful Servant of Yahweh, who will save men through his sufferings and his immolation (ibid. 53); he will be the Son of Man who will reign forever (Dan 7:13-14).In the New Testament Jesus Christ is presented first as the one in whom all messianic prophecies are fulfilled; then his theandric constitution is highlighted. He is the true Son of God, proclaimed as such by heaven during his Baptism and Transfiguration (Mt 3:17 and 17:5; Mk 1:11 and 9:7; Lk 3:22 and 9:35), by Peter through divine inspiration (Mt 16:16), even by demons (ibid. 8:29; Mk 5:7). Jesus himself declares himself to be the Son of God and for this reason is condemned to death (Mt 26:63-64; V. SON OF GOD). His Divinity shines forth in his words and works: he proclaims himself greater than David and Solomon (ibid. 12:41 ff.; Mk 12:35), than the Angels (Mt 4:11); he places himself on a par with God, integrating the old law (ibid. 5:21 ff.), saying that only he knows the Father and only the Father knows him, his Son (ibid. 11:27). In St. John and St. Paul the divinity of Jesus Christ is more than evident: Jesus is the Word, who is God from eternity (Jn 1:1 ff.); he is the Only-begotten of the Father (ibid. 1:18), existing before Abraham (ibid. 8:58), indeed before the world was made (ibid. 17:5). The Father sent the Son to save the world (ibid. 3:16; Gal 4:4); Jesus is the proper Son of God (Rom 8:32; ὁ υἱός), the God blessed forever (ibid. 9:5), the image of the invisible God, the firstborn (begotten before) of all creation, because all things were created by him and for him (Jn 1:3 and Col 1:15-19).
This same Jesus, the Word, the Son of God, is nevertheless also true man, as the Synoptics show (birth, carnal genealogy, growth in age, wisdom, and grace, hunger, thirst, passions, and sufferings). The humanity of Jesus is not only real but also firmly grounded, as is demonstrated by his physical endurance of labor, long journeys on foot, and sufferings. St. John, while emphasizing his divinity, does not fail to underline his deeply human traits (the episode of the Samaritan woman [ch. 4], the raising of Lazarus [ch. 11], the Last Supper [ch. 13:23]). Similarly, St. Paul, who recalls Jesus' Davidic origin "according to the flesh" (Rom 9:5) and his assumption of human nature (formam servi) so that Christ might be in all things like his brethren and could suffer and be immolated for them, made priest and victim together (Heb 2-5).
But the Gospel, besides explicitly affirming the divinity and humanity of the Savior, brings to light their personal, physical unity. It suffices to recall a few decisive texts: St. Paul (Phil 2) reminds the faithful that Christ (indicated by the pronoun in V. 6), who already subsisted in the divine nature, lowered himself to take on the human nature of a servant and thus appeared as man among men. The same Jesus, who is descended from David "according to the flesh," is "God blessed forever" (Rom 9:5).
In the Gospel of St. John, divine and human actions are attributed to Jesus as to a single operating subject: Jesus, weary from the journey, thirsty, sat down at the well of Sychar and asked for a drink, but immediately revealed himself as the awaited Messiah (Jn 4); he wept as a man at the tomb of Lazarus, but called upon his Father and performed the miracle. Throughout the Revelation it is impossible to discern two subjects in Jesus, although two series of actions are distinguished, one divine, the other human. The personal unity is expressed in the monosyllable "I," which continually resounds on his lips whether he speaks as man or as God, without the slightest shadow of dualism.
II. TRADITION
From the sources of written Revelation there emerges only one Christ, God-Man, not a Man and a God. From the very beginning the living tradition of the Church seized upon this fundamental truth and expressed it concisely in the Symbol: "I believe in God the Father... in his only-begotten Son... who descended from heaven and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary and became man." This profession of faith does not allow one to think of a split Christ despite his human-divine, theandric constitution. The whole Christological mystery is here, in this Word made flesh, who, as a single Person, subsists and lives in two natures and thus in two worlds.Around this mystery, jealously guarded and defended by the Church, arose the great crises of thought that gave rise to Christological heresies, to which the Church’s magisterium responded with its dogmatic definitions. The history of these controversies is highly significant. In an initial period, the attack was directed against the Humanity of Christ: once His Divinity was posited, the union with human nature, with matter, seemed impossible. The Gnostics and the Neologians (not without the influence of Persian religion, which soon prevailed with Manes) declared matter to be the negation of being and the source of all evil. This is Docetism, traces of which are found even in apostolic times. St. John insists on faith in the real Humanity of Christ: “Whoever confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God” (1 Jn 4:2). St. Ignatius the Martyr expresses the same concern when he writes: “There is one Physician, both carnal and spiritual, begotten and unbegotten, God incarnate, true life in death, from Mary and from God, first passible and then impassible, Jesus Christ our Lord” (Eph. 7:2). This testimony dates from the beginning of the 2nd century, but Docetism continued to linger for a long time: at the end of the same century, Tertullian refuted it in *De carne Christi*, and Irenaeus confuted the Gnostics, who, among other errors, taught that the Humanity of Christ was not real, nor truly born of the Virgin Mary, but merely illusory.
More threatening, however, was the attack on the Divinity of Christ. Already in apostolic times, the Ebionites and Cerinthus spoke of a Jesus who was merely a man, in whom the Word descended. The Gnostics, holding fast to the absolute transcendence of God, saw in Christ one of the *aeons*, intermediary beings between God and the world. At the end of the 2nd century in Rome, Theodotus of Byzantium taught a form of Adoptionism (v.), which made Christ a mere man adopted by God as Son. The same error is found in the 3rd century in Paul of Samosata. But the gravest heresy was Arianism (v.), which, starting from the concept of the unchangeability of God, equated the generation of the Word with creation, making it a mere creature, albeit a most noble one, brought into being when God willed to create the world. The result was that the Word-Son was not equal to the Father, nor of the same substance or nature (ὁμοούσιος = consubstantial). The Church, recognizing the gravity of the error, which undermined Christianity at its foundations, responded with the Council of Nicaea (325), where it was defined that Christ, as the true Son of God, is consubstantial with the Father, that is, He possesses the identical nature of the Father. With this definition, all errors regarding the Divinity of Jesus Christ fell away (v. CONSUBSTANTIAL).
In the second half of the 4th century, Apollinaris, Bishop of Laodicea, initiated a series of errors concerning the manner in which the two natures are united in Christ. To demonstrate the depth of this union, Apollinaris maintained that the Word had assumed a nature with an irrational soul, whose function was entirely absorbed by the incarnate Divine Wisdom. This was a return to the mutilation of Christ’s human nature, but at the same time it spurred deeper reflection on the question of the personal unity of the Savior despite the duality of natures.
Thus arose a delicate crisis at the very heart of the mystery of Christ, which over the centuries has always been susceptible to two temptations: either to emphasize the natural dualism to the point of compromising the unity of the person, or to push the personal unity to the point of compromising the distinction of the natures. These two temptations are embodied in two great heresies: Nestorianism and Eutychianism, also called Monophysitism. The battle lasted throughout the 5th century and had strong repercussions until the 7th (for this, V. HYPOSTATIC UNION). Here it is important to note that both heresies pervert the genuine meaning of the Incarnation as it emerges from the sources of divine Revelation. Indeed, Nestorianism, by breaking the personal unity of Christ, considered in Him a man alongside the Son of God, or a God dwelling in a man. But the Incarnation demands a God-Man, that is, a God who became man. Eutychianism or Monophysitism presented a hybrid being in which the human and the divine were fused together, losing their respective characteristics: the result was a Christ who was neither true God nor true man, but a mixture of both.
The Incarnation, by contrast, posits a theandric being in which the Person of the Word subsists and operates in two distinct natures. The union does not compromise either the Divinity or the assumed Humanity, which remain intact and distinct even in the absolute unity of the Person of the Word.
To Nestorianism, the Church responded in 431 with the Council of Ephesus (v.), defending the true, real, physical unity of the two natures in the one subject who is Jesus Christ. To Eutychianism, it responded in 451 with the Council of Chalcedon (v.), safeguarding the integrity and distinction of the two natures, even in the unity of the Person.
The expression of orthodox faith regarding the Incarnation is marked, as an echo of the genuine tradition of the Church, in the Athanasian Creed, compiled by an unknown author, probably between the Councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon, to epitomize the Trinitarian doctrine (for which St. Athanasius had fought so vigorously) and the Christological doctrine that was then maturing in the wartime climate of the 5th century:
“Right faith consists in confessing that our Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, is both God and man. He is God, begotten of the substance of the Father before the ages, and He is man, born of the substance of His Mother in time. Perfect God, perfect man, subsisting in a rational soul and human flesh. Equal to the Father according to His divinity, less than the Father according to His humanity. Though He is both God and man, yet He is not two, but one Christ. Not by a change of His divinity into flesh, but by an assumption of humanity into God. Perfectly one, not by a confusion of substances, but by a unity of person. For just as the rational soul and the flesh are one man, so God and man are one Christ.”
A clear expression that establishes the three terms: Divinity, Humanity, and Person, and explains their mutual relationship, eliminating both the confusion of the two natures and the division of the Person. The comparison to the union of the soul with the body is valuable as an example, though it must be used with caution, especially since it was already abused by the Apollinarians and Monophysites.
III. THEOLOGY OF THE INCARNATION
From the dogmatic definitions of the Church’s magisterium and the laboriously matured thought of the Fathers in the first five centuries, Christological theology flourished abundantly from Leontius of Byzantium (6th century) to John of Damascus (7th–8th centuries), down to Scholasticism, which reached its apex in St. Thomas Aquinas, who, especially in the *Summa Theologiae* (Part III), systematically collected and expounded the substance of traditional doctrine. Following in the footsteps of St. Thomas, we turn here to the principal questions of the theology of the Incarnation.
**1. Suitability.**
Every divine action is already suitable and therefore justified in itself, because it proceeds from a nature infinitely wise. But the Incarnation of the Word (IL) has its fundamental reason for suitability in the divine goodness, which loves to communicate itself to the creature to the greatest extent possible. The act of the IL, while it redounds to immense glory for humanity, does not detract from the dignity of God, the supreme good and infinite love, nor does it compromise His immutability, because in the IL a relationship is established that is real from human nature to the divine Person, but from the latter to the former it is only logical (*Sum. Theol.*, 3a, q. 1, a. 1). St. Thomas assigns particular reasons for the suitability of the IL (*ibid.*, a. 2), both with regard to the good that accrues to humanity in the natural order and even more in the supernatural order, and with regard to the evil from which humanity is freed through the Incarnate Word. But it is interesting to consider the reasons why the Word became incarnate rather than the other Persons. In itself, an incarnation of the Father or the Holy Spirit is not repugnant, but it was more suitable that the Word should become incarnate: 1) because the IL is a restoration of creation, and creation bespeaks order, especially in relation to the Word, “by whom all things were made” (Jn. 1:3), and so it was fitting that it should be restored by the Word Himself; 2) because humanity, as a rational creature, attains its perfection in the wisdom that derives from the Word; 3) because the salvation of humanity lies in supernatural adoptive filiation, which is an imitation of the natural divine filiation proper to the Word (*Sum. Theol.*, q. 3, a. 8). From the side of human nature there was no right to the benefit of the IL, but, according to the principle of obediential potency (*v.*), it was more suitable than any other nature for the Word to assume, because it is rational and needed to be healed from the sin of origin. Therefore it was not fitting for the Word to assume a nature inferior to humanity or the angelic nature (*ibid.*, q. 4, a. 1).
**2. Necessity.**
In His actions *ad extra*, such as creation, God is entirely free (cf. Vatican Council, sess. III, c. 1: Denz.-U., 1783 and 1805) and therefore subject to no necessity—whether physical, metaphysical, or moral. The Church has always maintained this principle against errors and contrary opinions (Eckhart, Wycliffe, Leibniz, Rosmini). All the more is God free when it comes to matters pertaining to the supernatural order, which is essentially gratuitous, because it transcends the capacity and demands of created nature.
Now the IL, as the restoration of humanity in view of its supernatural end, in the sources of Revelation is always presented as an act of divine love and mercy, as a great gift of God: “God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son” (Jn. 3:16). “God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ” (Eph. 3:4). The voice of tradition is echoed, for example, in Epiphanius (*Adv. haer.*, 69, 52): “The creator Word, not subject to cause... for a certain hidden mystery, was incarnate spontaneously... out of overflowing love for humanity, not impelled by necessity, but by voluntary deliberation” (cf. Irenaeus, *Adv. Haer.*, III, 23, 5; V, 21, 3; Augustine, *Serm.* 214, 5, 6; Leo the Great, *Serm.* 22, 3). Even if one takes into account the fall of Adam, the necessity of the IL is not evident, because the goods lost through original sin were supernatural and therefore gratuitous; moreover, their loss was culpable in Adam and in his descendants, and so God, without violating justice, could have abandoned fallen humanity to itself.
Finally, the necessity of the IL does not arise even from the hypothesis that God wished to save humanity fallen into original sin and personal sins, because for this purpose a simple act of forgiveness would have sufficed (*cf. Sum. Theol.*, 3a, q. 46, a. 2, ad 3). St. Anselm (*Cur Deus homo*, I, 16–18) seems to admit a true necessity of the IL, based on arguments that are not apodictic; some reduce Anselm’s thought to that of other scholastics, equating the necessity of which he speaks with a maximum suitability.
But if one supposes that God wills the restoration of the human race through strict justice with a satisfaction *de condigno*, then theologians are almost unanimous in recognizing a true necessity of the IL, because, since sin is an offense against God and therefore, in a certain sense, infinite, a reparation of infinite value was required, which no creature, not even an angel, could offer. Only God could offer such reparation to Himself, but to accomplish it He had to suffer, and so God had to assume a passible nature such as the human. Hence the decree of the IL is connected with that of the requirement of a strict and adequate satisfaction for sin. This requirement emerges here and there in Holy Scripture, especially when Christ speaks of a grave commandment (*ἐντολὴ*) of the Father with regard to the bloody sacrifice of Calvary. The matter is clear to those who, like St. Thomas (*Sum. Theol.*, 3a, q. 1, a. 2, ad 2 and elsewhere), admit that “sin committed against God has a certain infinity by reason of the infinity of the divine majesty.” But Scotus (*In IV Sent.*, d. 19, a. 2, q. 1; Ox., III, d. 20, q. unica) seeks to evade this argument by observing that sin is not intrinsically infinite, but only extrinsically, that is, because it touches God; and besides, if a creature can sin in such a way as to perform a morally infinite sinful act, it can also make reparation by performing a morally infinite act of charity, always for the extrinsic reason of the term, which is God. The Thomists reply that there is no parity between offense and reparation, because the offense is in direct proportion to the dignity of the person offended, whereas the reparation derives its value from the person who makes II. The question is connected with that concerning the end, which has a more complex history and is still very much alive today.
**3. End.**
First of all, it must be recalled that the supreme end of every created thing is God and His glory; God, however, in His actions *ad extra* cannot be moved by any good extrinsic to Himself, but only by His goodness identical with His essence. Nevertheless, a subordination can exist among created things, inasmuch as God, Who is independent in Himself, can subordinate one thing to another among those He has freely created (the mineral kingdom for the animal kingdom, animals and plants for humanity, etc.). Moreover, one must keep in mind the *finis qui* (the good toward which one tends) and the *finis cui* (the subject to whom the good willed is ordered); the primary end (which surpasses all others) and the secondary end (which is subordinate to the primary).
The present state of the age-old question is this: Is the primary end of the IL the redemption of the human race, so that in God’s designs for the present order of things Christ exists only because Adam sinned? Or is the primary end of the IL Christ Himself, independently of Adam’s sin?
An opinion already proposed by Abbot Rupert (d. 1135) and adopted by Alexander of Hales and Albert the Great found in Scotus a fervent advocate, who developed it in light of the absolute primacy of Christ over all creation (Reportata Parisiensia in III Sent., d. 7 and d. 19). God, he says, in His infinite wisdom must will first the good rather than the evil, and therefore first the Incarnation rather than Adam’s sin. Thus it was not Christ for the sake of sin, but sin for the sake of Christ that was ordained in the divine mind, so that even had Adam not sinned the Incarnation would still have taken place. Adam’s sin only influences the matter in that the Word assumes a passible nature in order to expiate II.
The other opinion, adopted by St Thomas and the Thomists of various schools, holds that the Incarnation, according to the present order of things, is ordained to the redemption of the human race, as is clear from divine Revelation, so that had Adam not sinned the Incarnation would not have occurred. Yet in another possible order of things the Incarnation might have taken place even without that sin. St Thomas defends this opinion with great moderation, relying more on arguments from Scripture than from reason: “Wherefore, since in Sacred Scripture the reason for the Incarnation is everywhere assigned from the sin of the first man, it is fittingly said that the work of the Incarnation was ordained by God as a remedy against sin, so that, sin not existing, the Incarnation would not have taken place; although the power of God is not limited to this, for even had sin not existed, God could have become incarnate” (Sum. Theol., III, q. 1, a. 3).
St Bonaventure (In III Sent., d. 1, a. 2, q. 2) acknowledges that the Thomistic opinion is more consonant “with the piety of faith,” while the other is more pleasing to reason. The followers of St Thomas and Scotus, especially in modern times, have sharpened the contrast between the two opinions. In truth the Scotist opinion is more seductive, but it lacks those firm foundations in the doctrine of the faith that the Thomistic view can claim. In the New Testament the frequent purpose of the Incarnation is the redemption of man: “For God sent not his Son into the world to judge the world; but that the world might be saved through him” (Jn 3:17; cf. Lk 19:10; Mt 9:13; Gal 4:4; 1 Tim 1:15). Likewise the Fathers: Irenaeus (Adv. haer., V, 14, 1): “For if there were no flesh to be saved, the Word of God would not have become flesh.” St Augustine (Serm. 174, 2): “If man had not perished, the Son of man would not have come” (cf. also Athanasius, Adv. Arianos oratio, 2, 56; St John Chrysostom, In Ep. ad Hebr. hom., 5, 1; St Ambrose, De Incarnationis Dominicae sacramento, 6, 56; St Leo the Great, Serm. 77, 2). The Church herself expresses the same idea in the Creed: “Who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven and was incarnate.”
Since this concerns the free will of God, as St Thomas warns, one must be wary of arguments from reason and adhere to the testimony of divine Revelation. Some have attempted to reconcile the two opinions (cf. F. Suárez, De Incarnatione, disp. 5, sect. 2; recently: I. M. Rocca–G. M. Roschini, De ratione primaria exsistentiae Christi et Deiparae, Rome 1941).
It is not the place here to review all the arguments of the two positions. A few observations will suffice. The Thomistic opinion, more deeply rooted in Revelation, deserves greater assent, not least because it highlights the mystery of the Cross, so that every Christian can and must repeat with St Paul: “He loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal 2:20). Redemption does not exclude the other end, the primacy of Christ, if one distinguishes the finis qui (Christ willed for His own sake) from the finis cui (the human race to be redeemed). The Scotist opinion exalts the primacy of Christ, but reduces His passion and death to a secondary episode. It is better not to dissect too closely the complex design of God, who willed the world as it is, with Christ at its center, yet decisively bound to the wondrous work of human redemption.
4. Efficient causality
The Incarnation, as a divine action ad extra, belongs evidently to the three divine Persons in common; yet terminatively it is proper to the Word in a personal, exclusive sense: “for the three Persons effected that human nature should be united to one Person, the Son” (Sum. Theol., III, q. 3 a. 4). By appropriation the Incarnation is customarily attributed to the Holy Spirit.A debated question is whether a creature could have been assumed as an instrumental cause of the Incarnation. The delicate issue arises especially with regard to the Blessed Virgin and her maternal function. In general it is safer to exclude any instrumental causality in the Incarnation. The instrumental agent in this case would have to exercise a dispositive action terminating in the Word, to whom the humanity is immediately united, according to the better opinion. Such an action is repugnant. As for the Blessed Virgin, one must not speak of instrumental causality (as the ancients did through insufficient physiological knowledge of conception): Mary, like every other mother, contributes to the conception of Christ’s humanity as a principal cause in her own order, namely as a concause together with God, inasmuch as she supplies to the divine, ineffably fruitful power the matter for the formation of Jesus’s body. Receiving no extrinsic element in the fertilization, as other mothers do, she is the true Mother of the Incarnate Word, more so than any other mother is of her own child. Yet Mary’s maternal function has for its object not the Word but His humanity, which is terminated by the subsistence of the Word (v. MATERNITÀ DIVINA).
IV. TRANSCENDENCE OF THE MYSTERY OF THE INCARNATION
It is a theologically certain doctrine (if not strictly a doctrine of faith) that the Incarnation is a mystery in the strict sense, one that therefore transcends the powers of human reason, which neither could intuit it before Revelation nor can comprehend or demonstrate it after. St Paul says that the mystery of Christ was hidden for ages and then revealed to the saints (Col 1:26; cf. 1 Tim 3:16). St Augustine (Ad Volusianum, 2, 8) speaks of the incomprehensibility of the Incarnation and concludes: “In such matters the whole reason of the deed is the power of the doer.” St Leo the Great (Serm. in nativ. Domini, 9, 1): “That the two substances should have come together in one person, unless faith believes it, no discourse can explain.” St Thomas (C. Gent., 4, 27): “This mystery of the Incarnation far surpasses all reasoning: nothing more wonderful can be conceived as divinely done than that the true God, the Son of God, should become true man.” The reason for this mystery lies in the transcendence of the divine action that effected the Incarnation; on the other hand, human reason cannot ascend to divine things except through creatures, and in creation there is no effect that leads to the knowledge of a divine Person, since the effects of creation are indifferently common to the three Persons. Therefore, after Revelation, human reason can resolve objections against the Incarnation, highlight its fittingness, but cannot positively demonstrate either its inner constitution or its intrinsic possibility.Hence the Incarnation has no counterpart in other religions. It would be trivial to compare the Incarnation with the Greco-Roman myths of demigods; nor do other comparisons, sometimes advanced with undue ease in certain manuals of comparative religion, deserve much consideration, where imagination often fills the void of documentation and ignorance distorts Christian dogma. A typical example is the book by E. Schuré, The Great Initiates (Italian trans., Bari 1932). What might have some interest in this context is the Indian myth of Kṛṣṇa presented as the incarnation of Viṣṇu, indeed of Brahmā himself. Yet while on one hand the poetic legend heaps the strangest and most grotesque deeds upon this figure (notorious are his erotic exploits), on the other it is difficult to find a clear concept amid the tangle of theological speculations developed around him.
In the first centuries of the Christian era. Any apparent analogy between its myth and the mystery of Christ may, at most, suggest a Christian influence on the renewed Indian legend. For this and other comparisons, reference should be made to specialized authors. The [Incarnation] is a genuinely Christian mystery, the fruit of divine Revelation, not of human speculation.
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**Pietro Parente**