The Word Became Flesh

Transcript

Hello, my friend… so glad you're with me today. This is By God's Call — day 358, The Word Became Flesh.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. John 1:14.

Stay with that for a moment. Don't rush past it. Because John is not writing a greeting-card sentiment — he is announcing the most staggering event in the history of everything.

Before Bethlehem. Before time had a name. The Word already was. God speaking — and everything that exists came into being by the power of that Word. The stars, the oceans, the breath in your lungs, you — all of it called into existence because He spoke. And now John tells us that this same eternal Word, the Creator of all things, chose to step inside the very creation He had made.

Not from a distance. Not in disguise. Not briefly passing through.

He became flesh.

That is the beautiful scandal of Christmas. Jesus took on skin. He took on bones. He felt hunger. He felt exhaustion. He felt cold. The One who invented lungs used lungs to breathe the same air you and I breathe. There is no greater distance God could have crossed to reach us — and He crossed every inch of it, for love of you.

And He dwelt among us. The Greek word John uses there — it means He pitched His tent. Jesus did not rent a room on the edge of the world and keep a safe distance. He camped. He drove stakes into the ground. He came to live right in the middle of everything — our mess, our grief, our crowded tables, and our empty nights. God does not visit from far away. He came to stay.

And the ones who walked with Him saw it. They saw glory. Not the cold, remote glory of a religious idea. Glory with a face. Glory with hands that touched lepers. Glory with a voice that said "go, and sin no more" without crushing the one who had sinned. In every miracle, in every shared meal, in every word of compassion, God was revealing Himself — and the face He wore was the face of Jesus.

Full of grace and truth. Both. Always both. Because Jesus never softened the truth to spare your comfort, but He never wielded the truth as a weapon to shame you either. He embraces without endorsing what is destroying you. He corrects without condemning who you are. There is no one else like that — only Him.

And it is that Jesus who came. Who came to us. Who is coming to you today.

So here is the invitation on this Christmas Eve morning — and I want to ask you not to let it slide past like another item on the day's list. Before breakfast, before the noise, before everything starts up around you, take two quiet minutes. And say out loud — not just in your head, out loud — say: "Jesus, thank you for coming to me."

Let Christmas begin inside you before it begins around you.

Stay close to God. Pray — then act. I'll see you tomorrow, my friend.