Why the Incarnation Changes Everything
The Christmas season brings with it a familiar rhythm—lights strung across rooftops, carols echoing through shopping centers, gifts wrapped in festive paper. Yet beneath the cultural celebration lies a theological truth so profound that it demands our full attention: God became flesh and dwelt among us.
This isn't merely a nice sentiment for greeting cards. The incarnation—God taking on human form in Jesus Christ—stands as the cornerstone of Christian faith. Without it, everything crumbles. But with it, everything changes.
The Problem of the Unseen God
Throughout human history, people have struggled to know God. We've caught glimpses, heard whispers, seen shadows of the divine. In the Old Testament, God revealed Himself through patriarchs and prophets, through burning bushes and pillars of cloud. Moses spoke with God face to face, yet even he couldn't see God's full glory without perishing.
We lived with an incomplete picture, like trying to know someone only through their online profile. We had information, but not the full reality. We had descriptions, but not direct encounter.
The Gospel of John addresses this head-on: "No one has ever seen God. The only God who is at the Father's side, he has made him known" (John 1:18). Before Christ, humanity operated with partial revelation. After Christ, we have the complete picture.
Jesus: The Perfect Revelation
John's Gospel opens with stunning theological precision: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" (John 1:1). This Word—this divine communication—"became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:14).
Jesus didn't just bring a message about God. He IS God's message. He is the exact imprint of God's nature, the radiance of His glory. When we look at Jesus, we're not looking at a representation or symbol—we're looking at God Himself.
This means Jesus corrects our distortions of God. Like a caricature drawing at a fair that exaggerates certain features while distorting others, we often create images of God that suit our preferences. We emphasize the attributes we like and downplay the ones that make us uncomfortable. We fashion a god of our own making—which is simply idolatry with better marketing.
But Jesus shatters our comfortable caricatures. He reveals God as He truly is: perfectly just and perfectly merciful, absolutely holy and overwhelmingly gracious, strong enough to overturn tables in righteous anger yet gentle enough to welcome children. The God of the Old Testament and the God revealed in Jesus are the same—we simply see Him more clearly in the incarnation.
The Search for Something More
When Jesus told His disciples, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me" (John 14:6), He made an exclusive claim that modern ears find uncomfortable. Yet this statement reveals something crucial: Jesus is all we need.
We live in a culture of spiritual mixing, where people claim to follow Jesus while also embracing contradictory philosophies. "I'm a Christian and a Buddhist." "I believe in Jesus and karma." "I follow Christ and the universe." But such combinations reveal a fundamental misunderstanding: if Jesus is truly who He claims to be—the Word made flesh, the perfect revelation of God—then He alone satisfies every spiritual longing.
The problem isn't that Jesus is insufficient. The problem is that we haven't truly recognized who He is. We treat Him like a supplement to our lives rather than the foundation of our existence. We want "Jesus plus"—Jesus plus success, Jesus plus comfort, Jesus plus our preferred lifestyle.
But Jesus doesn't offer to be an addition to our lives. He offers to be our life. He is the way, the truth, and the life—the source of everything real, everything meaningful, everything eternal. When we truly see Him, we realize we don't need anything more.
The Rescue Mission
Yet the incarnation wasn't merely about revelation. God didn't become flesh simply to clear up our theological confusion. The Word became flesh on a rescue mission.
Consider the story of Baby Jessica, the 18-month-old who fell 22 feet down an abandoned well in 1987. Wedged in an eight-inch opening, she couldn't move, couldn't climb, couldn't save herself. All she could do was cry for help. For 58 hours, rescue workers drilled down beside her, then tunneled over to where she was trapped. Only when someone came down to her level could she be brought home.
This is the gospel in miniature. We've fallen into sin, trapped by our rebellion against God. We're wedged in a pit of our own making, unable to climb out through good works or religious effort. We can only cry for help.
And God answered. "But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God" (John 1:12). Jesus came down to our level—took on flesh, lived in perfect obedience, suffered and died—so that we could be brought home. He descended into the darkness to bring us into the light.
The incarnation reveals that God is not distant or disinterested. He is a pursuing Father who enters into His creation to rescue His children. He makes Himself known not as a theological curiosity but as an invitation: Come home.
Recognizing the Real Jesus
This Christmas season, we face a choice. We can celebrate the cultural Jesus—the convenient, comfortable figure who blesses our traditions without challenging our lives. Or we can recognize the real Jesus—the Word made flesh who reveals the heart of God, satisfies the longing of our souls, and rescues us from our sin.
The real Jesus corrects our distortions. He clarifies God's true character. He settles our restless search for transcendence. He makes God known so we can be welcomed home.
This is why the incarnation matters. This is why Christmas is more than sentiment and celebration. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and nothing has been the same since.
The question is: will we see Him for who He truly is?
This isn't merely a nice sentiment for greeting cards. The incarnation—God taking on human form in Jesus Christ—stands as the cornerstone of Christian faith. Without it, everything crumbles. But with it, everything changes.
The Problem of the Unseen God
Throughout human history, people have struggled to know God. We've caught glimpses, heard whispers, seen shadows of the divine. In the Old Testament, God revealed Himself through patriarchs and prophets, through burning bushes and pillars of cloud. Moses spoke with God face to face, yet even he couldn't see God's full glory without perishing.
We lived with an incomplete picture, like trying to know someone only through their online profile. We had information, but not the full reality. We had descriptions, but not direct encounter.
The Gospel of John addresses this head-on: "No one has ever seen God. The only God who is at the Father's side, he has made him known" (John 1:18). Before Christ, humanity operated with partial revelation. After Christ, we have the complete picture.
Jesus: The Perfect Revelation
John's Gospel opens with stunning theological precision: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" (John 1:1). This Word—this divine communication—"became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:14).
Jesus didn't just bring a message about God. He IS God's message. He is the exact imprint of God's nature, the radiance of His glory. When we look at Jesus, we're not looking at a representation or symbol—we're looking at God Himself.
This means Jesus corrects our distortions of God. Like a caricature drawing at a fair that exaggerates certain features while distorting others, we often create images of God that suit our preferences. We emphasize the attributes we like and downplay the ones that make us uncomfortable. We fashion a god of our own making—which is simply idolatry with better marketing.
But Jesus shatters our comfortable caricatures. He reveals God as He truly is: perfectly just and perfectly merciful, absolutely holy and overwhelmingly gracious, strong enough to overturn tables in righteous anger yet gentle enough to welcome children. The God of the Old Testament and the God revealed in Jesus are the same—we simply see Him more clearly in the incarnation.
The Search for Something More
When Jesus told His disciples, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me" (John 14:6), He made an exclusive claim that modern ears find uncomfortable. Yet this statement reveals something crucial: Jesus is all we need.
We live in a culture of spiritual mixing, where people claim to follow Jesus while also embracing contradictory philosophies. "I'm a Christian and a Buddhist." "I believe in Jesus and karma." "I follow Christ and the universe." But such combinations reveal a fundamental misunderstanding: if Jesus is truly who He claims to be—the Word made flesh, the perfect revelation of God—then He alone satisfies every spiritual longing.
The problem isn't that Jesus is insufficient. The problem is that we haven't truly recognized who He is. We treat Him like a supplement to our lives rather than the foundation of our existence. We want "Jesus plus"—Jesus plus success, Jesus plus comfort, Jesus plus our preferred lifestyle.
But Jesus doesn't offer to be an addition to our lives. He offers to be our life. He is the way, the truth, and the life—the source of everything real, everything meaningful, everything eternal. When we truly see Him, we realize we don't need anything more.
The Rescue Mission
Yet the incarnation wasn't merely about revelation. God didn't become flesh simply to clear up our theological confusion. The Word became flesh on a rescue mission.
Consider the story of Baby Jessica, the 18-month-old who fell 22 feet down an abandoned well in 1987. Wedged in an eight-inch opening, she couldn't move, couldn't climb, couldn't save herself. All she could do was cry for help. For 58 hours, rescue workers drilled down beside her, then tunneled over to where she was trapped. Only when someone came down to her level could she be brought home.
This is the gospel in miniature. We've fallen into sin, trapped by our rebellion against God. We're wedged in a pit of our own making, unable to climb out through good works or religious effort. We can only cry for help.
And God answered. "But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God" (John 1:12). Jesus came down to our level—took on flesh, lived in perfect obedience, suffered and died—so that we could be brought home. He descended into the darkness to bring us into the light.
The incarnation reveals that God is not distant or disinterested. He is a pursuing Father who enters into His creation to rescue His children. He makes Himself known not as a theological curiosity but as an invitation: Come home.
Recognizing the Real Jesus
This Christmas season, we face a choice. We can celebrate the cultural Jesus—the convenient, comfortable figure who blesses our traditions without challenging our lives. Or we can recognize the real Jesus—the Word made flesh who reveals the heart of God, satisfies the longing of our souls, and rescues us from our sin.
The real Jesus corrects our distortions. He clarifies God's true character. He settles our restless search for transcendence. He makes God known so we can be welcomed home.
This is why the incarnation matters. This is why Christmas is more than sentiment and celebration. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and nothing has been the same since.
The question is: will we see Him for who He truly is?
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