“The Word (Logos) became flesh and dwelled among us …” (John 1:14).
Plato, the Greek philosopher, reasoned that there must be a transcendent “idea” (or “form”) behind every object in the material world, one that precedes and shapes its existence. And if that idea exists, there must be a mind that conceived it and spoke it into being. These three transcendent realities—a divine mind, an idea, an utterance—Plato combined into one absolute and named it the “Logos” (the Word).
Plato was very near the truth, so near, in fact, that early Christians referred to him as “one of our own.” But though he caught a glimpse of "the light that was coming into the world" he did not fully comprehend it. Something more was needed, something the wisdom of man could never conceive: The divine Logos and a mortal man came to bear one name: Jesus. That's what theologians call The Incarnation, and the rest of us call Christmas, the final, irrefutable proof that God really, really cares.
Frederick Buechner had this to say: “What we need to know, of course, is not just that God exists, not just that beyond the steely brightness of the stars there is a cosmic intelligence of some kind to keep the whole show going, but that there is a God right here in the thick of our day-to-day lives who may not be writing messages about himself in the stars, but who in one way or another is trying to get messages through our blindness as we move down here knee-deep in the fragrant muck and misery and marvel of the world. It is not objective proof of God’s existence that we want, but whether we use religious language for it or not, the experience of God’s presence. That is the miracle we are really after, and that is also, I think, the miracle that we really get.”
All through the Old Testament we’re told that God has been doing his best to get next to us, humbling himself, condescending to make himself known. But nothing can match what happened that night in a cave near Bethlehem. It was there that the Logos became the little Lord Jesus, a helpless infant with unfocused eyes and uncontrollable limbs, needing to be cuddled and cared for, “the infinite made infinitesimally small,” G. K. Chesterton said. "That is the miracle we’re really after ...nd the miracle that we got": The divine Logos become Immanuel: God with us.
John speaks of the Logos in a most personal way: “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled—(this was) the Word (the Logos)” (1 John 1:1). The Greek word translated “handled” suggests something more than close at hand. It suggests familiarity and affection—a hug!
John was astounded by the thought that he had heard and seen Plato’s Logos, and had held him in his hands. The one who made up the universe and spoke it (or sang it) into existence was “pleased as man with men to dwell.”
Why did He do it?
It was love—pure and simple. "Love all lovely, love divine…” (Christina Rossetti ).
David Roper
11.30.20
