The Word Became Flesh

Transcript

Hello, my friend… so glad you're with me today. This is By God's Call — day 359, 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.

Sit with that for a moment.

The Word. John doesn't begin with a baby in a manger — he begins before time, before creation, before anything was. The Word who always existed, through whom every star was lit and every ocean was shaped — that Word chose to be born. Chose to enter. Chose to come.

Christmas is not merely a beautiful date on the calendar. It is the most radical moment in all of history — the moment the infinite became finite. Out of love. Nothing but love.

And John tells us he dwelt among us. The Greek word behind "dwelt" carries the picture of pitching a tent, of making camp. Jesus did not hover over humanity from a safe distance, watching from above. He came down. He set up camp right here — in our dust, in our weariness, in our longest and hardest nights. He knows your life from the inside — not as theory, but as lived experience. He knew hunger. He knew grief. He knew the weight of losing someone he loved. That is the God who came.

And those who were near him saw his glory. But what a strange glory it was. Not the glory of a palace. Not the glory of a conquering army. The glory of this man showed up when he reached out and touched a leper no one else would touch. When he stood at the tomb of Lazarus and wept — God, weeping. When he got down on his knees and washed the feet of his friends. That is the glory of Christ. It looks nothing — nothing — like what the world calls greatness.

And John says that glory came full — full of grace and truth. Not half of one and half of the other. Full of both, at the same time.

Full of grace means there is no shortage of mercy in Jesus. It does not run out. It does not have a cap. Whatever you are carrying into this Christmas morning — an old guilt that keeps returning, a loss that is still raw, a longing that hasn't been answered — there is grace enough. He did not come for the people who have it all together. He came precisely for the ones who need him.

And full of truth means he will not leave you comfortable in a lie. Grace without truth would be empty flattery. Truth without grace would be cold cruelty. But Jesus is fully both, at the same time, without compromise. He loves you too much to leave you where you are — and loves you too much to condemn you in the process. That is the Gospel. That is what arrived in Bethlehem on that day.

And now comes the invitation. Not later today. Now. Before breakfast this Christmas morning, before the day fills up and the noise begins — stop. Place your hand on your chest. And say out loud, even if only you can hear it: "Jesus, thank you for coming. I receive you as my Lord today." Let the gift of John 1:14 land first. Before anything else. This is the present that cannot be bought — and it is already here, waiting for you.

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