by Bonita Jewel Hele
John the Beloved arguably knew Jesus more intimately than any of His other followers. He was with Jesus during His most celebrated moments and walked with Him through the darkest times as well.
John beheld Jesus transfigured into holiness on a mountaintop, witnessed Him raise a girl from the dead with a single word. John knelt at the foot of the cross on which Jesus bled and died. He was the first to recognize Jesus standing on a distant seashore after He had risen from the dead.
John began his testimony with a message that encompassed space and time in its scope: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1). He went on to describe the actions of this Word, clearly not a normal word as we think of the term today.
Words are generally spoken or written. They have definitions and meanings but do not in themselves have the ability to do things. They cannot move or live or breathe.
If you are a reader and enjoy a good book, you know the power of words. When woven together in the right way, they can open up worlds of the imagination. You might have read a story like The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe as a child. You may have been filled with wonder at the thought of entering a world like Narnia, with talking animals and the prospect of being transformed into a king or queen.
Yes, words have power. But the Word that John referred to in his Gospel is different.
“All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made” (1:3). The description in the first chapter of John connotes a picture of something . . . of someone sentient, which an inanimate word cannot be.
The Word was a being, and a powerful one at that. John’s statement evokes an image of omnipotence.
John then wrote, “In him was life; and the life was the light of men” (v. 4). He is not only life but light as well. In literature, light is often synonymous with knowledge and life; darkness, with death and ignorance and sorrow. This Word, John said, became a light for every person entering the world (v. 9).
The Word illuminated the world He created, shining His light into the hearts of the men and women, whom He designed in His image.
But the world did not know Him.
The very ones who could have — should have — recognized and welcomed Him did not receive Him. This Word-that-was-God descended to earth, a priceless gift unwrapped and laid bare for all to see, and many turned and walked away.
The whole story would have been a tragedy if not for the next words John penned. A promise: “But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God” (v. 12).
What — Who — is this Word that holds power to welcome those who believe as sons and daughters of God?
He is the only begotten Son of God, firstborn of many brothers and sisters. He descended to earth to show who the Father truly is, to glorify His name and make Him known. As He traversed worn paths to Cana and Capernaum, to Galilee and the Gadarenes, to Bethsaida and Bethany, and finally to Jerusalem and the cross, His words and deeds conveyed an image of God the Father.
And what was that image? One of healing. Mercy. Grace. Adoption. Acceptance.
The Word was with God. The Word was God. The Word was the only begotten Son of God. The Word was made flesh and blood and tears and sighs. Made laughter and friendship. Made compassion and meekness. Made a son in order to die.
And in His rising again, made glorious and given the right to welcome His family into a forever home — to those who beheld His glory, as John described it so all the world could see. These could somehow know and believe that grace and truth had entered the world He made.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
