Words Made Flesh
Wanderer above the Sea of Fog by Caspar David Friedrich, circa 1817.
If you’re anything like me, you’re entering this new year a little bleary-eyed—from the holidays and from all that’s been happening in our world. This image of a wanderer above the sea of fog (right) feels fitting. Instead of a coat and trousers, though, I’m still clinging to my lounge-around-the-house leggings. Alas—ready or not—it’s time to begin again.
On the first Sunday of the year, we turned to the Gospel of John, which opens by linking Jesus to a Word present at the beginning of creation—a Voice that spoke form and rhythm out of chaos.
Do we need a Word like that right about now, or what?
Words do have that kind of power. For better or worse, as Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel reminds us, “words create worlds.”
John goes on to say this Word didn’t remain distant or bark orders down to us or mount a hostile takeover, but became flesh and blood—a human being who moved into the neighborhood. A few years ago, I was delighted to learn that the Greek word logos, translated as “Word,” was also long understood to mean conversation. While “word” can feel fixed or one-way, a conversation is different. It involves exchange, mutuality, and openness. That feels way closer to what we see unfolding through Jesus. He wasn’t a distant dispenser of detached doctrines; he was an instigator of newness here and now.
The Word made flesh wasn’t just something spoken—it was embodied in the messiness of real human relationships: in questions and stories, tears and healings, over meals and through courageous acts that disrupted harmful systems and restored dignity. Through a steady stream of exchanges, Jesus revealed a deeper, more connected and compassionate way of living.
Words still have the power to create and inspire—but only when they’re grounded in the realities of life here.
Over the coming months, as we keep moving through John, we’ll lift up a single word each Sunday—one we can carry with us through the week. Not as a slogan or rule, but as a companion. A word to stay in conversation with. One that might shape us, unsettle us, challenge us, or spark some much-needed life in and around us.