The Word Became Flesh

At Christmas, we celebrate more than a birth in a manger. We celebrate a miracle so profound that human language strains to contain it—God became flesh and dwelt among us. This holy mystery is called the Incarnation, and it is the heartbeat of the Christmas story.

John opens his Gospel with words that echo all the way back to creation itself:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” (John 1:1)

The Greek word used here for “Word” is logos. It is far richer than a simple spoken word. Logos means reason, expression, explanation, and divine revelation. Jesus was not merely someone who spoke God’s words—He was God’s Word made visible. God’s message to the world arrived not as ink on a page, but as a living, breathing Savior.

When the angel told Mary she would carry the Christ child, her faithful response was simple and profound:

“May your word to me be fulfilled.” (Luke 1:38)

In that verse, the verb form of logos is used—lego, meaning “to speak” or even “to count.” It’s almost like fitting one block upon another, piece by piece, trusting the design will stand. Mary didn’t have all the details, but she trusted the Builder. And with her humble yes, the eternal Word stepped into time.

From the very beginning, God has always worked through His Word. In Genesis, we see that creation itself came into being not through force, but through speech. “And God said…” and it was so. Light. Land. Life. All formed by the power of His Word. And at Christmas, that same powerful Word took on skin and bones and a heartbeat.

Christmas is not ultimately about trees or gatherings or wrapped gifts under twinkling lights. It is about the God of the universe lowering Himself to dwell inside a tiny human body. Born of a virgin. Wrapped in swaddling cloths. Laying in a manger. The Creator entered His own creation.

Jesus would grow as we grow. He would feel hunger, thirst, exhaustion, pain, sorrow, and rejection. He would live in a sin-filled world and yet remain completely sinless. Then, in the greatest act of love the world has ever known, He would freely give Himself on a cross—bearing our sin, our guilt, and our shame.

And all of it—His birth, His life, His suffering, His death—was for love.

There is an old Christmas carol that captures this holy mystery beautifully. Written by H. R. Bramley, it says:

“The Word in the bliss of the Godhead remains,
Yet in flesh comes to suffer the keenest of pains;
He is that He was, and forever shall be,
But becomes that He was not, for you and for me.”

Don’t you love that?
“He becomes what He was not, for you and for me.”

This is the wonder of Christmas. The Holy became human. The Eternal stepped into time. The Word became flesh—for us.

As Christmas approaches, I hope you’ll take a few quiet moments to ponder this truth. Treasure it deeply in your heart. Let it stir your worship and soften your soul. Jesus loved us enough to become one of us.

Heavenly Father,
We bow in awe of the miracle of the Incarnation. Thank You for sending Your Son, the living Word, to dwell among us. Thank You that He became what He was not, so that we might become what we could never be without Him—redeemed, forgiven, and made whole. As we move through this Christmas season, help us to look beyond the noise and the busyness and fix our hearts on Jesus. May we never lose our wonder at the truth that You loved us enough to come near. In the precious name of Emmanuel, God with us, we pray. Amen.