Christmas 2025: WHEN GOD STEPPED INTO OUR FLESH

At Christmas we remember the wonder beyond all wonders—that the eternal Word became flesh and dwelt among us. And as I sit with Jesus in the quiet places of my heart, I hear again the soft rustle of that miracle: God stooping low, God entering our skin, God choosing to walk the same roads we walk, not from a distance but from within. He did not send an angel to save us, nor a prophet to bridge the gap; He came Himself, wrapped in humanity, wrapped in weakness, wrapped in the rhythm of our own breathing (John 1:14).

And there is something in that holy descent that speaks directly to the unity of His people. For when Christ took on flesh, He did not take your flesh or my flesh—He took our flesh. He stepped into the one humanity that every nation shares, the one blood by which every soul lives, the one frame that carries both kings and children. The incarnation, in its quiet glory, declares that we are more alike than we dare to admit; that at the foot of Bethlehem’s cradle, the walls we build tremble and fall beneath the weight of divine humility.

When Jesus walked among us, He carried no badge of division. Jew and Gentile, rich and poor, learned and simple—He gathered them into one fellowship by the sheer force of grace. And on the night before the cross, His prayer rose like incense: “that they all may be one” (John 17:21). How could it be otherwise? The One who made Himself bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh desires that those who are born of His Spirit should live in the deep unity His very incarnation proclaims.

Christmas, then, is not merely the story of God coming near; it is the story of God bringing us near to one another. The stable becomes a sanctuary where rivalry dies, pride bows, and love reigns. In the light of the manger, we see that the church is not a crowd of isolated souls but a family formed by the same Savior, shaped by the same Spirit, and summoned to the same table of grace (Ephesians 4:3–4).

So, beloved, as you behold the Child wrapped in swaddling cloths, remember this: the unity of the church is not a polite request; it is the heartbeat of the incarnation. The One who took on our humanity calls us to take on His humility, that the world may see in our love a reflection of the God who loved us enough to become like us. And when we stand together—broken but redeemed, different but united—Christ is honored, and the song of Christmas continues in the fellowship of His people.

BDD