Contemplating the Incarnation in John's Prologue

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with the God, and the Word was the God. All things were made through him, and without him, nothing, not one thing, was made" (John 1:1–3).

"And the Word became flesh and lived with us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth" (John 1:14).

There is painting at a local museum near my house that I have, from time to time, found much humor upon gazing. It is one of many Madonna and Child paintings that is part of a more extensive collection of Christian art. 

The reason I find the portrait so humorous is that the face of the infant Jesus appears already elderly and has an expression of ageless boredom. I laugh due to the thought process I have of what the young Lord must be thinking at that moment, as he looks already done with everything around him. "God and creator of the cosmos," I think, "put into the fragile body of a newborn!" It reminds me of the genie in Disney's Aladdin: "Phenomenal cosmic powers! Itty bitty living space..." 

However, after an hour or so has passed, my thoughts on the subject typically transition from that of passive joking to intense contemplation. The mystery of the Incarnation is something that we can meditate on forever, and only be left with more wonder than when we start. That being said, let's begin. Here are a few thoughts I have about our Lord's human birth when reading the prologue of John's Gospel. 

The Word was God

The first phrase of John's narrative is packed with powerful imagery that speaks to both its original and modern reader. It does not take a detective to notice the reflective language of "In the beginning," as it points back to the creation narrative in Genesis (Gen 1:1). The Greek in John is parallel to the Greek Old Testament. 

However, the reader quickly realizes that John is doing something different. Instead of coming across the typical understanding of the story, where Elohim is the subject creator, he said there was "the Word." 

John goes one more step forward and says that not only was Christ there with Elohim at creation but that he was himself also God. I know that John 1:1 is something that some of you have known since Sunday school. However, this plays a huge role in what I am about to say, and it is incredible that John starts his message of Christ here, at preexistence of his divine being, when the Synoptics either begin at his birth (Matthew and Luke) or skip to the baptism (Mark). 

He Pitched His Tent With Us

Fast forward a couple verses, and we read that the Word became flesh and lived amongst us (1:14).

There are two things about this phrase that I want to address.

First, let's just spend a moment and think about what it means for Jesus to become flesh. The perfect, boundless creator took on a limited flesh so that his people may know him yet again. About this concept, F.F. Bruce once said: 

The humanity, the ‘flesh,’ which was taken by the divine Word at that point in time was and remains as perfect as his divine nature; yet it is our human nature (apart from sin) that he took, and not some 'heavenly humanity.'

The Lord, who needed nothing, through whom existence was created, took on the finite essence of humanity. And he did not just waltz down from heaven as an adult man. He was a baby, who was dependant on his parents for food and protection.

The creator of the universe humbled himself to the point that he was unable to speak, walk, or eat on his own. 

The second item to address is the term "lived with us." The Greek text uses a form of the verb "σκηνόω/skēnóō" which means "to dwell." In his commentary on John, Craig Keener makes the point that the writers of the Greek Old Testament used a variation of this word for God's tent the Hebrews traveled with during their time in the wilderness, also known as the tabernacle. The way I read verse 14 is "the Word became flesh, and he pitched his tent with us."

Once again, we find God on the move with his people. The same awesome glory that filled the tabernacle to the point that Moses could not enter, (Exod 40:35), was condensed into the form of an infant.

Going Forward

Going back to the icon I find so humorous, I always wonder what is going on in my Lord's head at the moment of his birth. Was he having typical infant thoughts being fully human? Or was he still thinking about ordering the cosmos and painting the sunrise his mother would see in the morning? What was it like for him to depend on the parents he created? One of my professors would always say that Jesus was older than his mother and the same age as his Father.

Thinking about these questions, I am more often than not thrown into a state of existential awe by the sacrifice the Lord made for us. That he would put down his royal status as the God of the universe and become a baby who had needs and wants. He did not merely float down from Heaven and skipped straight to the cross. He lived a full life. He was hungry, he was thirsty, he scrapped his knee when he fell, and when he ran too long, he got tired. Jesus took on all of the limits of our human weakness, and in doing so, the Tabernacle of the Lord was once again on the move with his people in the midst of their struggle for freedom.

I could go on and on, but I am not. But I do hope that what I have said today sparks a few questions in your head. If that is the case, I encourage you to follow those questions in prayer. The mystery of the Incarnation is beautiful and brings us to a place of wonder.

And please, if you are able to, please go see the painting Madonna Adoring the Christ Child by Cosimo di Lorenzo at the Philbrook Museum in Tulsa, Oklahoma. You will enjoy its charisma, as well as the charm of the entire museum.

– Eric J. Blessing