And
the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory
as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.
(John 1:14)
God’s Logos, God’s
Word. Not a statement or a book… not a
sacred scripture… not a doctrine, claiming to be truth… not a creed, or a declaration
of faith, not a sermon, or a command… God’s
Word is not words at all – we provide words, in vast quantities of
variable worth. God’s Word is a
person. To a person you relate
personally.
In the incomparable words of the Fourth Gospel, the Word, God’s
Word, became flesh. The Greek word “flesh” is sarx (σαρξ), useful in English words
such as sarcophagus, sarcoidosis, sarcoma, sarcasm – the gospel writer chose an
earthy and basic word. It amuses me that
“flesh”, which for centuries has terrified the Christian church as something
dangerous and evil and to be subdued and controlled, is the very vehicle God
chooses to convey God’s Word. The Word became flesh…
…and lived
among us. Again, the Greek in which
this writer tries to express the inexpressible is striking. For “lived” he chose a form of the word skēnē (σκηνη), which means a tent. Literally he writes, God pitched his tent
among us. A tent is not a stable permanence,
like tower or temple, the Bank of England or the Warkworth Town Hall. God’s Word is not something we can set in
place, own or possess or use, or set rules for.
This living Word, as with any living person, defies definition. God’s Word, alive in our hearts, meets us in
different ways at different times and stages[1]
of our lives, unpredictable.
…and we
have seen his glory, as of a father’s only son…
The glory of God’s Word is what we see, a person, loved and
loving. A mother’s only son… we could say... a father’s only daughter… a
mother’s only daughter… The point is
that the glory is the relationship, the bond between Jesus and God whom he
calls “my father”. The same loving bond
is opened between Jesus and his followers.
Of course it differs from person to person – the bond I experience and
practise in prayer and service is not the same as you experience. It also, with each of us, changes from one
season of life to another. But we
recognise in each other the marks of that loving bond, if they are
present.
…full of
grace and truth, writes John. God’s Word
is grace and truth. If what we hear is
not, it is not God’s Word. In mature
faith we have learned to distinguish grace and truth from the myriad distortions
wrought upon it, it seems inevitably, by human ego and the need for
control. My sheep know my voice, we read in this same gospel[2]. We intuitively discern, or suspect, what is
not gracious and what is not true… and we are seeing a lot of it lately,
masquerading as Christian truth and righteousness. The silence and stillness, then, so far as we
are able without words or images, is the space in which we may become encountered
and taught by God’s Word.
No comments:
Post a Comment