The Word Became Flesh

This verse is one of the most powerful verses in all of Scripture.

Read it again slowly:

“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

The Word didn't simply appear to be human. He didn't temporarily take on the appearance of flesh. The Word became flesh.

Jesus—the eternal Word of God—stepped into His creation. He came into the world He created and made His dwelling among us.

And that word dwelt is significant. The Greek word used here carries the idea of tabernacling or pitching a tent among us. In the Greek Old Testament, this same language is associated with the tabernacle—the place where God's presence dwelt among His people.

Think about that for a moment.

The glory of God, which had once been associated with the tabernacle, was now being revealed in tangible human form through Christ.

God came near.

Take a moment and really allow that to sink in.

The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

That should mean everything to us as Christians.

He loved us so much that He came to us.

He wanted a relationship with us so much that He willingly stepped into humanity. He humbled Himself, lived among us, walked among us, taught us, loved us, suffered for us, and ultimately gave His life on the cross to make a way for us to be reconciled to God.

He came so that we could come home.

And ultimately, He came so that we could spend eternity with Him.

Eternity with God.

That should mean everything to us.

But does it?

I can't help but think about how much our world has changed.

When my parents were growing up, Sundays looked very different. Sunday was largely considered a day of rest. Stores were closed. Businesses were closed. Families went to church. Communities gathered together. After church, there might be a potluck lunch or a picnic where people simply spent time together.

There was a rhythm to life.

There was a recognition that some things were more important than getting everything done.

Even when I was growing up, Sundays still felt different. Things had already begun to change, and more people were choosing to stay home rather than go to church, but there was still a sense that Sunday was a day set apart.

As the years went by, though, the changes continued.

More busyness.

More chaos.

More things demanding our attention.

Sunday gradually became another day to shop, clean the house, mow the lawn, run errands, prepare for the week ahead and check off everything on the never-ending list of things that need to be done.

And somewhere along the way, we lost the rhythm of stopping.

Now, I don't believe the point of John 1:14 is that we need to bring back the way Sundays used to look.

The point is much deeper than that.

Do we still recognize the significance of what God has done for us?

Do we still stand in awe that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us?

Do we still understand that the Bible isn't simply another book sitting on a shelf?

Because if we truly believe that this is the living, powerful Word of God, then it should affect us.

It should slow us down.

It should make us stop and listen.

It should change what we prioritize.

It should change how we spend our time.

It should change what we pursue.

It should change how we love.

It should change how we live.

The problem isn't simply that Sundays have become busier.

Our lives have become busier.

We've filled our days with so much noise that sometimes we don't have room to hear God.

We've filled our schedules with so much activity that we don't stop long enough to consider eternity.

We've accumulated so much stuff that we can forget that none of it is coming with us.

And perhaps most heartbreaking of all, we can become so familiar with the words of Scripture that we forget just how extraordinary they are.

“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

That isn't just a sentence in a book.

That is the story of God's love for us.

The Creator entered His creation.

God came near.

Jesus came to dwell among us, full of grace and truth.

He came knowing exactly what it would cost Him.

He came knowing He would be rejected.

He came knowing He would suffer.

He came knowing He would go to the cross.

And He came anyway.

For us.

So maybe what we need isn't simply a return to quieter Sundays.

Maybe what we need is a return to wonder.

A return to recognizing that God is worthy of our attention.

A return to making room for His Word.

A return to slowing down long enough to hear His voice.

A return to remembering that this life is not all there is.

Because the Word became flesh.

He dwelt among us.

We have seen His glory.

And because of what Jesus did for us, eternity with Him is possible.

That should mean everything.

May we never become so busy that we forget to stop and marvel at the fact that God came near.