hese words from Saint John’s Gospel are profound and perhaps puzzling. They are heard at most Carol Services, and always in the Christmas season at one or more of the masses. They may seem a bit jarring against the colour and the ceremonies of the season. They are not sentimental or decorative. They are bold, almost shocking. They tell us what Christianity really is and what Christmas truly celebrates. So what does it mean to say that the Word became flesh? First, it tells us what Christianity is not. It is not simply a religion of texts. We cherish the Scriptures, but Christianity is not based on a book alone. The Bible matters because it leads us - to someone. The Christian Faith is not simply a system of beliefs or doctrines, important though these are. Creeds and teachings help us to speak truthfully about God, but they are the SatNav - not the destination.

Catholicism is not merely a feeling – a warm sense of being loved or looked after. Faith certainly touches the heart, but it does not begin or end with emotion. Neither is our faith only a moral code. Christianity certainly shapes how we live, how we treat one another, and how we choose what is right. But good behaviour, on its own, is not the Gospel. Nor is our religion simply about worship, ritual, or beauty, essential though these are. Music, symbol, and ceremony express faith, but they are not its foundation.

Christianity is faith in a person. At Christmas we proclaim something astonishing – that God has not remained distant. The eternal Word through whom the universe was created has taken human flesh. God has entered our history, our vulnerability, and our limitations. He has come close enough to be seen, touched, and known. Saint John does not say that the Word briefly visited us, or appeared among us. He says that the Word “dwelt” among us – literally, that God pitched his tent in the middle of human life. God chose to live where we live. This means that there is no part of human experience that is foreign to him – joy and sorrow, friendship and loss, hope and disappointment. Jesus does not save us from a distance. He saves us from within our lives. This is why Christmas continues beyond the crib and the carols. The feast reminds us that God is not an idea to be discussed, but a person to be encountered. As Pope Benedict XVI often reminded us, Christianity begins not with an ethical decision or a lofty idea, but with an encounter with a person who gives life a new horizon.

So the question Christmas leaves us with is simple and demanding – not what do I think about God, but whom do I trust? Not what do I admire, but whom do I follow? The Word became flesh and dwelt among us – and invites us still to let him dwell within our lives.