Rough,
calloused hands slowly smoothed the edges of a graying beard as the
aged fisherman stared into the distance. Visions of the life he had
lived made their way through his mind as he contemplated what needed to
be written. Even now, he could feel the rocking of the boat, and the
spray from the sea when, as a young man, he threw the nets over the
side. Just as all those generations before him, his future and living
lay beneath the blue waters of the sea of Galilee. And, with that, the
man named John would have been content, for he would have known nothing
else.
How
vividly he remembered the day he sat in his father's boat going through
the tedious motions of repairing weathered nets. A shout from the
shore drew his attention from his work. What was it about the man who
called that caused the fisherman to lay the torn net in the bow and draw
the boat to shore? What was it in the words, "Follow me," that made
him leave the only livelihood he had ever known to follow the man with
the gentle smile, and compassion filled eyes"
Unsure
as to whether he would be able to put into words what it was about this
man that had caused him to turn from the sea and his nets, John
pondered what to write as he continued to gaze at the horizon. Finally,
realizing that there were no adequate words to describe the nature of
the man who had called from the shore all those years before, the
uneducated man of the sea began to write.
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God...."
"...And
the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we saw his glory, glory
as of the only begotten from the father, full of grace and truth."
Profoundly
deep. Poetically beautiful. Utterly astonishing. All from the hand
of the fisherman with no formal education who heard the words, "Follow
me," and followed. As profound....and beautiful....and astonishing as
John's words are, they still cannot capture the glorious magnitude of
the Logos of God taking on the flesh of man. God had walked in the
Garden of Eden with Adam, he had pitched a tent with the people of
Israel, but now he had taken on the actual form of the most precious of
his creation. God had become one of us.
"....And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us..."
People
have struggled, trying to wrap human minds around the concept of these
words ever since a virgin gave birth to the child who would reconcile
the Creator and his creation. The shepherds wondered at the words of
the angels announcing the birth of the Messiah. The magi steadfastly
followed a star pointing them toward the child, and humbly knelt before
him wondering about the meaning of his birth. Herod's wonder became an
obsession resulting in the death of every child in Israel who was under
the age of two.
"...And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us..."
The words penned by John, the fisherman turned disciple, have been a
challenge to every person of every generation who has heard the name.
Who was that child? What was so special about the man he became?
As
one of those people, in a much removed generation, I have been
challenged by the wonder of the man who claimed to be God. I know that
he always was....that he is....and that he always will be. I certainly
don't understand it, but I know it. What I do understand, however, is
who this, "Word that became flesh," has become to me and, perhaps more importantly, who he is to me at this moment.
Manna
was amazing stuff. For the people of Israel, wandering through a
barren wilderness, it was their sustenance. Manna would become to them
whatever they needed. When they needed protein, it became protein.
When they needed carbohydrates, it became carbohydrates. When they
needed vitamins, it became vitamins. God's people, working their way to
the promised land, saw this white wafer like substance, which became to
them whatever they needed on their journey and said, "Manna," which is
basically the Hebrew word for, "What in the world is it."
"...The Word became flesh and dwelt among us,"
and the world says, "Manna....What in the world is it." Christ would
later tell his disciples that he was the true bread that comes down from
heaven....that he was the true heavenly manna. And that is exactly who
I have found him to be. I consider him...I look at him, and
contemplate the awesomeness of the Logos of God walking, breathing and
living in a body like mine and I say, "Manna....What in the world is
it?" It is certainly more than anything my mind can begin to absorb or
even vaguely comprehend.
But
then I walk with him, I fellowship with him and I begin to get a taste
of the heavenly manna the Father placed in that manger over two thousand
years ago. As I wander through the wilderness, making my way toward
the promised land, I find that this manna becomes exactly what I need
for each step of the journey. When I need peace, it becomes peace.
When I need joy, it becomes joy. When I am without hope, it gives me
hope. When I lose my direction, it points me toward home. And, with
each taste I find an abundance of grace... and mercy...and forgiveness.
When I break myself, this manna fixes me. It is everything I need to
sustain me on the journey.
Christmas
is as profound...and beautiful...and as astonishing as the old
fisherman put into words. But it is also as simple as a Creator coming
to his creation and saying, "You're broken, and I'm going to fix you."
It's what this Word that became flesh does...and he does it
perfectly...he fixes broken people.
