When I was first asked to write an article on the Incarnation, unavoidably my theological wheels began to turn. I got out my copy of Athanasius' On the Incarnation, still considered one of the best statements on the subject, though it was written in 318. I ran the biblical references on the topic. I consulted all the theological dictionaries, taking pages of notes. All this research, which is usually so inspiring, left me feeling empty. I was stalled before a pile of notes and open books, wondering, What is the point?

     Then, I am ashamed to say, it finally occurred to me to do what I had not done up to that point, which was to pray, asking God to reveal what He wanted said about the Incarnation. Only then did my direction become clear.

     The Incarnation is not primarily a theological issue. We diminish its mystery and depth by relegating it to dictionaries and discussions. We can trivialize it by trying to define it. The Incarnation cannot be contained or confined by our categories. It was an act motivated by the deepest desire in the heart of God: to be with us. It was a matter not of theology but of love.

     When we turn to the Nativity narratives of Matthew and Luke, we enter a familiar landscape of angels and shepherds, of a stable and swaddling clothes. But this all depicts the birth of Jesus; it does not fully encompass the Incarnation. John, who omits so much of the material in the other gospels, leaves out the Nativity as well. Instead, he focuses on the Incarnation: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God . . . The Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:1, 14).

     "The Word became flesh. . ." More than just a theological statement, this is also a biological one! It is a declaration of a concrete, flesh-and-blood fact. The Word-who-was-God became the Word-who-was-man. The enfleshment of Jesus was the means God chose to accomplish His intense longing to be with us.

     To be with us—this is the motivating force of all Scripture. From the very beginning, in Genesis chapter 3, God is in the Garden calling out, "Where are you?" The question is not asked because the Creator is uncertain of Adam's whereabouts. God's question is, instead, an offer of restoration for the first man and woman, so that they could come walk with Him, even after having sinned. Though Adam and Eve have demonstrated their preference to rebel and walk away from God, still He calls out to them, inviting them to be with Him. The most ardent yearning of God's heart is to be with us. He continues to this day, calling out, beckoning each one of us to come and walk with Him. Every moment He speaks, asking us, "Where are you?"

     As we continue to move through the Old Testament, we find that the purpose of both the tabernacle (Exodus 25) and the temple (1 Kings 6) was to fulfill this longing of God to be with His people. The tabernacle was literally a tent for Jehovah—certainly a magnificent tent, but a tent just the same. Likewise, the temple was to be His house. Both structures speak of His intense love for shared presence, to be in the midst of His people.

     The Law was certainly one of the greatest institutions of the Old Testament. It is not surprising, in light of the Father's desire for fellowship with man, to realize that is actually the underlying purpose in the Law: communion with Him. This ultimate aim is revealed in the reward for keeping the Law, which is expressed in Leviticus 26:12: "I will walk among you and be your God, and you shall be My people."

    Every institution of the Old Testament was based on this divine desire. We hear it echoing from the Garden of Eden. We see it in the architectural forms of the temple and tabernacle. We hear it proclaimed on every page of the prophets, the spokesmen of God's heart. What God is saying to Israel and to us on every page of the Old Testament is, "My most profound yearning is to be with you."

     Finally, in the fullness of time, the Incarnation occurred. And what is Jesus' incarnation but the embodiment of the deepest desire of God's heart? Upon His coming into the world, He was given a name which perfectly describes who He is. It is a name which contains within it all of God's hopes and ours: Immanuel—"God with us"!

     What more proof do we need? The God who searched for Adam in the Garden, who had His tent pitched in the midst of the Israelites' camp, now comes to us in Jesus Christ. He comes not as the conclusion of some theological formula, but as a new beginning of relationship by means of an unimaginable act of pure love. What God had longed for ever since He had first created mankind was realized in Jesus as He walked with His disciples, as they became His people, as He became their God.

     My challenge to you this Christmas, when you hear the term "Incarnation," is to lift your understanding beyond the narrow categories of theology—of what we pretend to understand about God—and to hear it instead as one of the key words in an extravagant love letter. Do not be tempted, as I was, to seek to understand "how God became flesh" in technical terms. This is impossible. After all, the Incarnation was an act of love, which means it is a mystery. No amount of intellectual analysis can ever adequately explain love. But through God's Holy Spirit, the Incarnation—that is, the essence of Christmas—can become real to us.

by Michael Card

Award-winning author and musician Michael Card lives in Franklin, Tennessee with his wife and children. www.michaelcard.com