John 1:14-The Beauty of Christmas

Today we’re going to look at the Christmas message from the Gospel of John. Now, this isn’t the typical Christmas story we’re used to. Matthew and Luke give us the details—the baby lying in a manger, Mary and Joseph, the shepherds, the angels, even Caesar Augustus. We love those scenes. John, though, tells the Christmas story in a very different way. He doesn’t describe the manger or the shepherds. Instead, he sums it all up in just one powerful verse—John 1:14. As we reflect on this passage, I want us to slow down and think about three beautiful truths of Christmas. First, God came to be with us. Second, Jesus became our close friend. And third, Jesus came as our Savior. If we really grasp the beauty of what Christmas is all about, it won’t just warm our hearts for a season—it will change our lives. The message of Christmas isn’t meant to be lived out for just twelve days. It’s meant to shape how we live every day—24/7, all year long. My prayer is that as we meditate on what God has done, the beauty of Christmas would fill your heart with deep and lasting joy.

First, Christmas means God came down to be with us.

Let us look at verse 14 ““The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.” God becoming flesh is known as the incarnation. It is from the Latin word in=”in or into”, caro, carnis=”flesh” meaning “to make into flesh.”

Let’s talk about the incarnation—basically, “the Word became flesh.” God made this beautiful world where humans walked closely with Him. But when Adam and Eve sinned, that closeness was shattered. Paradise was lost. Sin opened up this massive gap between God’s world and ours—like a bottomless canyon we couldn’t cross. And the more sin took root in the human heart, the wider that gap became.

Think about it—when milk goes bad, we just toss it out. God could have done the same with us. But He didn’t. We couldn’t climb our way back to Him. We were hooked on sin, powerless to break free. So instead of waiting for us to come to Him, God came to us—to rescue us, redeem us, and restore us. That’s the heart of the incarnation: the Word became flesh.

God came down from heaven and stepped right into our cursed world—taking on human flesh. And in the Bible, “flesh” is usually linked to what’s sinful, broken, ugly, and weak about humanity. I’m reminded of a scene from Schindler’s List that made me physically recoil. Nazi soldiers storm into a concentration camp to round up children. Some hide under beds, between chairs—but they’re all found. One child jumps into a latrine, submerging himself in human waste and holding his breath. The guard wouldn’t go into the latrine because of the stench.

In a way, that’s what God did. The pure, holy God willingly entered the filth and brokenness of our human condition. The Almighty God humbled Himself by taking on our wretched flesh. The infinite became finite. The superior became the inferior. The all-powerful God became vulnerable—able to suffer, and even able to be killed.

Honestly, we don’t like the idea of the incarnation. We don’t like lowering ourselves. Our default is pride, self-preservation and selfishness. We hate admitting when we’re wrong, we don’t want to apologize first, and we always want the last word. Even something small—like getting cut off in traffic—can make us want to get even. One pastor once said the incarnation is the “greatest miracle” because it has the power to change the human heart. When we’re truly touched by the reality of God becoming human, it reshapes how we live—moving us toward self-sacrifice, humility, and a generous, willing heart.

We see so many who were changed by the greatest miracle of the incarnation. The incarnation of Christ, helped Corrie Ten Boom forgive an enemy soldier who met her after she was set free from a concentration camp. The moment she grasps his hand, she noted “I have never known God’s love so intensely as I did then.” The incarnation inspired Mother Teresa to serve the poorest of the poor in India. This year, my family could practice the incarnation by giving up our first floor of our house to serve a family member. May God bless us to live with the incarnation in our hearts.

Second, Christmas means Jesus became our friend.

How did Jesus come? Practically, what did it mean the word became flesh. Matthew 1:23 reads, ““The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”). God came to this broken world as a baby in a manger.

Before the coming of Christ, being in God’s presence was downright terrifying. In Genesis 15, God appears to Abraham as a smoking furnace, an overwhelming heat passing between the pieces of the sacrificed animals. When He appears to Moses and the Israelites, He comes as a pillar of fire. And when God speaks to Job, it’s from the middle of a whirlwind, like a violent storm. Looking at God is like getting near the sun, you will be blinded and disintegrated. That’s why God said to Moses in Exodus 33:20, “You cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.” To sum it up, the logic was simple. Sinful people + the Holy God = death!

If you were a god and wanted to show up on earth, you’d at least arrive as a demigod—someone like Hercules or Maui from Moana. Big muscles, dramatic entrance, instant respect. People would fear you, worship you, and fall in line immediately. God could have shown up that way too—as a hurricane, a pillar of fire, or a blazing furnace. Instead… He came as a baby. No muscles. No lightning. No intimidation. Just diapers.

Wow. God entered this world as a helpless baby. Think about that. When we see a baby, our reaction isn’t fear—it’s usually, “Aww, so cute!” Babies are the least threatening creatures on earth. They don’t inspire armies; they melt hearts. My wife and I noticed this when we were out with our granddaughter, Yasmin. Total strangers would just light up—smiling, waving, making faces—like she was some kind of celebrity. That’s the power of a baby.

And here’s the truly mind-blowing part: Jesus’ birth was unbelievably humble. You’d think Jesus would at least be born in royalty—born in a palace, attended by royal midwives, sleeping in a gold-plated crib. Instead, He shows up in a poor family, born in a barn. No palace. No velvet blankets. Just a manger—a literal animal feedbox.

Why a baby? Because God didn’t come to scare us into submission. He came to be with us in the most disarming, beautiful way possible. Christmas is the story of God choosing diapers over a sword—humble, unexpected, and somehow breathtakingly beautiful.

Even as an adult, Jesus never became distant or unapproachable. He stayed humble. He stayed nearby. Why? Because He came to be a friend to sinners. Jesus’ friendship is exemplified in the book of Proverbs. Proverbs 17:17 put it beautifully: “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.” Friends don’t stand back while things fall apart—they step in, even if it means getting a little messy themselves. We see this event in Mark 5, when he healed a demon possessed man and sacrificed the pork industry of the town for his salvation. Another proverb27:6 says, “Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses.” A real friend cares enough to tell you the truth, even when it stings. Jesus called his top disciple, Satan because he didn’t see God’s divine plan but only his selfish desires. And then Jesus takes friendship to its highest level: “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” John 15:13. Jesus drank the cup of suffering for our salvation. His body was broken, bruised, and bloodied so that we could be healed and given eternal life. That’s the kind of friend Jesus is. Not fair-weather. Not self-protective. But self-giving.

Father Greg Boyle has learned to be a good friend to many broken young people in Los Angeles, CA. He started in the late 80s when gang violence was out of control. His mission was simple: treat gang members as human beings. As founder of Homeboy Industries, he walks among gang members, offering hope, jobs, and a second chance. Once, a young man entered his church brandishing a gun. Father Boyle deeply understood his brokenness. He stayed, spoke calmly, prayed in real time—and defused the situation without harm. This is a true friend: showing up where it’s messy, risky, and painful, and choosing love anyway.

I thank God for so many friends such as my late pastor, UBF and West Loop friends, my wife, children, parents and many others. I’ve received wounds from friends, developed friends born out adversity. There are so many people who don’t have true friends. In 2023, the Surgeon General declared loneliness as a public health epidemic. As we go to our Christmas gathering let’s be friends as Jesus was to us.

Third, Christmas means Jesus became our Savior.

Look at verse 14, “…made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

Those last phrases— “made his dwelling” and “we have seen his glory”—are radical too. Before this, the only way God could dwell with His people was through the tabernacle. In Exodus 25:8–9 God says, “Have them make a sanctuary for me, and I will dwell among them.” The word tabernacle in Hebrew literally means “dwelling place.” This dwelling place was fenced off, a constant reminder that sin had created separation between God and His people. Inside the tabernacle, the blood of goats and calves was poured out as sacrifices for sin. In addition, no one was allowed to enter the sanctuary, except a priest. That was how the Israelites approached God’s presence—for about 1400 years.

But everything changed with the coming of Jesus. Verse 14 tells us, “Jesus made his dwelling among us.” In other words, Jesus became the true tabernacle. The fence was removed. Blood sacrifice was no longer needed because Jesus’ blood was sufficient. We can all enter the holy of holies.

God doesn’t just come near us—He actually chooses to live in us. Paul puts it this way: “Do you not know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in your midst?” (1 Corinthians 3:16).

Practically, what this means it mean that he dwells in us. He rewrites our stories. Recently, my wife and I watched a really moving movie about a priest and a detective assigned to clear him of a crime. The detective was a proud heretic who claimed he worshiped at the altar of reason. He couldn’t stand religion. Instead of arguing, the priest simply thanked him for being honest. Then the priest said something that stuck with me: the church, he said, is really about storytelling. He shared his own story. Before becoming a priest, he had been a boxer—and in the ring, he killed a man. That moment filled his life with guilt, shame, and violence, and it haunted him. But then he encountered another story—the gospel. He heard the good news that Jesus had paid for his sins on the cross. He received forgiveness. Jesus rewrote his life story from a violent man to a man of God. Let’s remember how Jesus rewrote our life stories through his grace and truth.

When Jesus comes to live in our hearts, we’re simply not the same anymore. Before Christ, our story was all about the law and condemnation. The law kept saying, “Try harder. Fix yourself.” And when we couldn’t—and we never could—we ended up condemning ourselves. But when Jesus comes, He rewrites the story. What used to be law and condemnation becomes grace and truth. That’s why the words of Amazing Grace still ring so true: “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found; was blind, but now I see.” John Newton was a slave ship captain. When he met Christ. His story was rewritten. He became a pastor and abolitionist. That’s my story too. Jesus rewrote my life—from being a miserable, third-class rock musician to becoming a man of God. And He’s still doing that today. Praise God, the One who rewrites our stories and fills them with grace and truth.

In today’s message, we learn the beauty of Christmas. Christmas is beautiful because God came to be with us. God took the initiative to have a relationship with us. Christmas is beautiful because Jesus became our close friend. He truly understands us. Christmas is beautiful because Jesus saves us from our sins. Jesus opened the door so we can behold the glory of God. Jesus rewrites our stories. It is based on what Jesus has done for us. I pray each of us may take time from the hustle and bustle of Christmas to see the beautiful thing God did. May the joy of Christmas remain in your hearts throughout your lifetime.