God in the Flesh

No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.
–John 1:18, Bible reading, December 25

When I was a teenager I used to lock myself in my room and pray to God. I’d read the scripture, pray the rosary, talk in free-form, beg. I was always trying to make a connection, FEEL something, but most of the time, I just felt alone.

Looking back on it now, it’s no surprise I felt that way. I had foregone most human relationships for a more “sacred” relationship with the Divine. What I didn’t understand was the incarnational nature of that relationship. I would find God not in the ether, but in the flesh. That meant I had to leave my room and actually relate to people.

It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I was relieved to focus on the tangible rather than the abstract. God is much more lively in the world of things than in the realm of ideas. The Word did not become flesh for nothing.

It’s no accident that this realization dawned on me in my first year of college. There was a lot of flesh to go around. My peers were enjoying (or seemed to be enjoying) the sensual life. They were exploring their sexuality (without any apparent guilt), they were coming out of the closet, they were standing in front of the Bay Tree Bookstore without any clothes on (the University of California, Santa Cruz was, and still is, a clothing-optional campus, and every so often, people would exercise their right to walk down the street naked). I stood on the sidelines watching all this, at first feeling shocked, then gradually softening into acceptance, or at least non-judgment. I figured there had to be goodness in the body, in sexuality, if God himself took it on.

So maybe it sounds like I was looking for an excuse, a Divine decree, to indulge in all sorts of decadent behavior. But I wasn’t. I was just looking to relate to my body, my sexuality, my desire for relationship in a way that wasn’t riddled with guilt and disdain, which is why the Incarnation became such a focal point for me. By the time I finished college, I saw the Word-made-flesh as a profound redemption of my bodily existence. I spent less time worrying about sin and more time trying to enjoy the world around me. Friendship and romantic relationships (however unproductive some may have been) became my primary mode of worship, not of the person I was relating to, but of God as he was revealed in that person.

In case you think I’m crazy or way off-base, I offer the perspective of a major literary and theological heavy-hitter, Dante. After his sojourn through Hell and Purgatory, he stands at the threshold of Paradise before his beloved Beatrice. To her side stands the Griffin (an image of Christ) whose radiance is so powerful Dante cannot gaze on him directly. Instead, he looks into Beatrice’s eyes, in which he can see the image of God.

For me the story depicts the purpose and sanctity of relationship. We glimpse God in each other. In our own image, he abides and is revealed. This is the profound teaching of the Incarnation , which we celebrate at Christmas, and the wondrous gift of life we have each been given.