When God Moved In

“The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighbourhood.” — John 1:14 (MSG)

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Christmas was never meant to be cozy or cute. It was scandalous. Confronting. The Almighty God left the most exclusive gated community in the universe and arrived among us - not as a king, a CEO, or a rich-lister, but as a vulnerable child, born behind a guesthouse because no one had room for him.

And before Jesus could even walk, he became an undocumented refugee.

Threatened by a dictator’s violence, Joseph and Mary gathered their newborn son and fled across the border into Egypt. Jesus began his life in the arms of parents on the run, seeking safety in a foreign land. That’s not a Hallmark moment. That’s a God who chooses solidarity with the displaced and the oppressed.

Last week I spent several hours on a long bus ride with Edward, an Alongsiders leader from Uganda. I asked about the refugee camp we had visited earlier together – Nakivale - and how the children there were doing.

Edward told me a shocking story about a little girl who fled a brutal civil war in a neighbouring country, running for her life. Her parents gone. Her future uncertain. She arrived in that vast refugee camp utterly alone.

For that little girl, this Christmas probably won’t be about presents, carols, or parades. But it will still hold Christmas hope. Because a young Christian woman in that same camp has chosen to step out of her comfort zone and become her Alongsider - to walk with her, listen to her, and remind her she’s not forgotten. In fact, she has welcomed that little girl into her family.

This is where Jesus would be found. Among those who have so little yet still find ways to share what they have.

Perhaps there is no more dangerous place for a Christian to be than in safety and comfort, detached from the suffering of others.

At Alongsiders, we train young Christians, like the ones in that refugee camp, to walk with the vulnerable, just as God walked with us. The Incarnation wasn’t just charity from a distance - it was practical love up close. That’s the heartbeat of Christmas.

So, this year, let’s do the same. Move closer to someone who’s been pushed aside. Listen. Open the Christmas table to folks who are spending Christmas alone. Walk alongside.

That’s what an Auckland church did for my wife Nay and her family, when they arrived in New Zealand as refugees so many years ago.

And that’s how the Word still becomes flesh today.

                                                                                                                                            Craig Greenfield