The Word Became Flesh: Why the Incarnation Is the Most Scandalous Claim in Human History

GOSPEL OF JOHN SERIES • DAY 2 OF 32 • LENT 2026

John 1:14 changes everything about how we understand God, humanity, and salvation. Here's what the Church Fathers saw in "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us"

📖 John 1:6-18 | ⏱️ 6 min read | 💡 Incarnation Theology | ✝️ Patristic Wisdom

"There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came for testimony, to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came to be through him, but the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, but his own people did not accept him. But to those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God, to those who believe in his name, who were born not by natural generation nor by human choice nor by a man's decision but of God. And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us, and we saw his glory, the glory as of the Father's only Son, full of grace and truth... From his fullness we have all received, grace in place of grace, because while the law was given through Moses, grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. The only Son, God, who is at the Father's side, has revealed him." (John 1:6-18, NABRE)

The Cosmic Question: How Can God Become Human?

Yesterday we stood in eternity, gazing at the Word who created everything. Today, John asks us to believe something that sounds impossible: that same eternal God became a human baby in Bethlehem.

"The Word became flesh."

Four words in English. And with those words, John makes the most audacious claim in human history.

Not "the Word appeared to be human." Not "the Word looked like a man." Became. The eternal God entered time. The Creator became a creature. The Word who made the stars took on a human body that got tired, hungry, and thirsty.

This isn't poetry or metaphor. This is the heart of Christian faith: God became one of us.

Why John the Baptist Matters (More Than You Think)

But before John gives us the Incarnation, he gives us a witness. "There was a man sent from God whose name was John."

Notice the contrast. Yesterday: "In the beginning was the Word." Today: "There was a man." The Word is eternal. John had a beginning. The Word is. John was sent.

Why does the Fourth Gospel spend verses 6-8 on John the Baptist before getting to the Incarnation? Because testimony matters. Witness matters. John the Baptist's entire purpose was to point beyond himself to the light. "He was not the light, but came to testify to the light."

This is the first great lesson in Christian discipleship: we are not the point. We are witnesses. Signposts. Fingers pointing to the moon. And if people look at our finger instead of where we're pointing, we've failed.

John the Baptist understood this perfectly. In chapter 3, when his disciples worry that Jesus is baptizing and everyone is going to him, John says, "He must increase; I must decrease" (John 3:30). From the very first mention of the Baptist in this Gospel, John establishes the pattern: true witness always deflects glory away from itself and toward Christ.

⚡ KEY INSIGHT: When John says "the Word became flesh," he uses the same word for "became" that he used in verse 3 for creation. But there's a difference. In verse 3, things "came to be" that didn't exist before. Here, the Word who always existed became something he wasn't before. He didn't stop being God. He added humanity to his divinity. Fully God, fully human, one person.

The Light That Exposes (And the Darkness That Rejects)

Verses 9-13 give us one of the most heartbreaking passages in Scripture. "The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came to be through him, but the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, but his own people did not accept him."

Read that again slowly. The world did not recognize the one who made it. His own people rejected the one who chose them. This is not just tragedy. This is cosmic irony of the darkest kind.

The Creator came to his creation, and creation said, "We don't know you."

But then comes the turn, the hinge, the glimmer of hope: "But to those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God." This is not about ethnic identity (not "by natural generation"). This is not about human effort (not "by human choice"). This is not about male lineage (not "by a man's decision"). This is about being "born of God."

John is already preparing us for the conversation with Nicodemus in chapter 3. You must be born again. Born from above. Born of God. The same Word who spoke "Let there be light" in Genesis 1 now speaks new creation into being: the birth of children of God.

"The Word Became Flesh" (The Most Important Sentence Ever Written)

Now we come to verse 14, the center of everything: "And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us."

Flesh. Not just "body." Flesh. The real, physical stuff that gets tired and hungry. The stuff that bleeds when you cut it. The stuff that eventually dies.

The eternal Word became flesh.

Think about what this means. The God who needs nothing became the baby who needed everything. The one who holds the universe together became the toddler learning to walk. The source of all wisdom became the boy asking questions. The Lord of all became the man who wept at his friend's grave.

And he "made his dwelling among us." He moved into the neighborhood. He became one of us. Not as a visitor passing through, but as someone who truly belongs.

"And we saw his glory, the glory as of the Father's only Son, full of grace and truth."

The glory that Moses begged to see but couldn't, the glory that would have killed any human who looked at it directly? John says, "We saw it. We looked right at it. And it was looking back at us from a human face."

What the Early Christians Saw in This

St. Athanasius, one of the early Church fathers, said it beautifully: "He became what we are that He might make us what He is."

That's the whole point of the Incarnation in one sentence. God became human so that humans could become like God. Not that we literally become God, but that we can be transformed, changed, made new. The gap between Creator and creature was so wide that the only way to bridge it was for God himself to cross over to our side.

And here's what's stunning: he didn't just visit. He didn't just take a quick trip to earth and then go home. He "made his dwelling among us." The word John uses literally means "he pitched his tent" among us. God moved into the neighborhood. He became our neighbor.

When Moses asked to see God's glory in the Old Testament, God said no human could see it and live. But John says, "We saw his glory." They looked into Jesus' face and saw the glory of God looking back at them through human eyes.

Grace Upon Grace (What This Means for You)

"From his fullness we have all received, grace in place of grace."

Picture waves at the beach. One wave washes over you, then another, then another. That's what "grace upon grace" means. Not grace that runs out. Not grace you can use up. But wave after wave after wave of God's goodness.

The old covenant had grace. God giving the law to Moses was grace. God dwelling with his people in the tabernacle was grace. But now something greater has come. "While the law was given through Moses, grace and truth came through Jesus Christ."

It's not law versus grace. It's not Moses versus Jesus. The law was good and came from God. But it was always pointing forward to something fuller, something better. Moses gave Israel truth written on stone tablets. Jesus gives us truth wrapped in human flesh.

YOUR LENTEN PRACTICE THIS WEEK:

Verse 14 says "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us." God chose to meet us not in abstract ideas but in tangible, physical reality. This Lent, practice incarnational spirituality. Instead of just reading about serving the poor, serve them. Instead of just thinking about forgiveness, go reconcile with someone. Instead of just believing in the Eucharist, receive it with fresh wonder. God became flesh. Your faith should too.

What This Means for Your Life Today

John ends with this: "No one has ever seen God. The only Son, God, who is at the Father's side, has revealed him."

Throughout the Old Testament, people encountered God but never saw him fully. Moses saw his back. Isaiah saw the train of his robe. But no one saw God's face.

Until the Word became flesh.

Now, to see Jesus is to see the Father. To know Jesus is to know God. The invisible became visible. The untouchable became touchable. God became Emmanuel, "God with us."

This is why the Incarnation matters for your everyday life. You don't have to wonder what God is like. You don't have to guess whether God understands your pain. Look at Jesus. Watch how he treats the woman at the well, the man born blind, the grieving sisters at their brother's tomb. That's what God is like. That's how God feels about you.

The Word became flesh so you could know, beyond any doubt, that God is not distant. God is not cold. God is not indifferent. God is with us. God is for us.

For Reflection

The Incarnation is not just something that happened 2,000 years ago in Bethlehem. It's the ongoing reality of your faith. Christ still dwells among us in the Eucharist, in the Church, in the poor, in each other. Where do you need to encounter the incarnate Word today? Where is Jesus pitching his tent in your neighborhood, your family, your daily routine?

What would it mean to truly believe that the Creator of galaxies became flesh for you? That the Word who needs nothing chose to need everything, including your love?

Word made flesh, you who tabernacled among us, help me to see you not as a distant deity but as Emmanuel, God with us. You entered our world, our pain, our mortality. You became what we are so that we might become what you are. Give me eyes to recognize you in the flesh today: in the Eucharist, in my neighbor, in the stranger. And give me the courage to be your witness, pointing always beyond myself to the light. Amen.