The Light got all decked out in flesh and brought us a kind of map, in his own being, in the blood pumping in his veins and in the wonder of his stories and the extreme levels of his caring. In his courage and strength, crossing the boundaries of our fear and prejudice. Breaking through the brittle walls of religion and racism, through the harsh barrier of them and us. And through all the other belittling attitudes we secretly carry in our back pockets. He bust into everything that is real and ordinary. Not a spiritual kind of god, but a fully human God with a capital G and the ability to sweat and cough and stretch and laugh and sob uncontrollably. An eighth day of creation kind of revelation, with resurrection oozing from every pore, smuggled into every fibre of his being. A human – fully, totally cataclysmically alive. More alive than anyone has ever been before or since. With the sole purpose of drawing us, and the planet, and the universe into his Life. Not one of us has seen God, and yet… and yet… here he is. In human form. Living a life that shows us the full exuberant kindness of God, showing us all that matters to God, all the ways of God, cutting through the angry misunderstanding of the centuries.
Drawn from John 1