Passage 📖: John 1: 1-18

📺 Want to watch the full teaching on YouTube? Click here to view the December 27th, 2025 Lesson.

🎧 Want to listen to the full teaching on Spotify? Click here to hear the December 27th, 2025 Lesson.

📢 KNGDOM Announcements:

👋 Introduction to Today’s Lesson

Most of us assume God is distant by default.

That if He exists, He’s watching from far away—silent, abstract, uninvolved.

But what if the greatest claim of Christianity isn’t what we must do for God…

but what God has already done to come near to us?

John opens his Gospel with a staggering declaration—not about rules, religion, or requirements—but about presence.

About light entering darkness.

About the infinite becoming personal.

Before Jesus ever teaches, heals, or saves—

John wants us to know who He is.

And if John is right, then this changes everything:

How we understand God.

How we understand ourselves.

And what it really means to believe.

So before we rush to application…

we need to sit with the revelation.

Because what John is about to show us isn’t a theory about God —

it’s an invitation to meet Him.

Let’s Dive In. 

Last week, we stepped back to the beginning of Matthew’s Gospel to rediscover the meaning of Christmas. After walking through Jesus’ teachings, suffering, death, and resurrection, we returned to His birth — and saw it with new eyes. We learned that: God entered the world through a messy family line, marked by scandal, outsiders, and grace.Jesus’ birth was not sentimental, but costly — demanding obedience from Mary and Joseph that risked reputation and security. The first to recognize Jesus were outsiders, while those in power felt threatened or stayed passive. And above all, Christmas declares this truth: God does not stay distant — He comes close. Immanuel is not a poetic idea. It is a promise fulfilled. God stepped into human history — not when the world was ready, but when it was broken — to be with us, right where we are.

Missed the teaching? Click here to read or watch the full lesson.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life,[a] and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light. The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. 11 He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John bore witness about him, and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks before me, because he was before me.’”) For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God; God the only Son, who[f] is at the Father's side,[g] he has made him known.

Although Matthew and John tell the same story of Jesus, they write with different audiences in mind. Matthew’s Gospel is primarily written to a Jewish audience, which is why it begins with a genealogy and frequently references Israel’s Scriptures, history, and prophecies. Matthew is showing that Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah — the fulfillment of everything Israel had been hoping for. Throughout the book, Jesus is often presented as a new and greater Moses: where Moses received the Law, Jesus authoritatively teaches it; where Moses led Israel out of slavery, Jesus leads people into the Kingdom of God.

John’s Gospel, however, is written for a broader Greco-Roman audience — people shaped more by philosophy and reason than by Jewish tradition. Instead of starting with family lineage, John begins with a cosmic introduction, using the word Logos (“the Word”), a concept familiar in Greek thought. John’s goal is to show that Jesus is not just Israel’s Messiah, but the divine source of life, meaning, and truth for the whole world. In other words, where Matthew says, “Jesus is the Christ because He fulfills Israel’s story,” John says, “Jesus is the Christ because He is the eternal Word behind all of reality.”

John’s Gospel opens differently than any other account of Jesus’ life. There is no manger. No shepherds. No angels singing. No genealogy. Instead, John pulls the curtain back before time itself. While Matthew begins with where Jesus came from, John begins with who Jesus has always been. He doesn’t start in Bethlehem. He starts in eternity. “In the beginning…” Those three words are intentional. They echo the opening line of Genesis. John wants us to understand from the very first sentence: What we are about to read is not just the story of a man — it is the story of creation, God, and reality itself being redefined.

Who Is John — and Why Did He Write This?

John is one of Jesus’ original twelve disciples — a fisherman by trade, a close companion of Jesus, and part of His inner circle alongside Peter and James. He walked with Jesus from the beginning, witnessed His miracles, heard His private teachings, and stood at the foot of the cross when many others fled. It is there, in Jesus’ final moments, that John is entrusted with the care of Mary, Jesus’ mother — a deeply personal detail that reflects both his closeness to Jesus and the responsibility he carried after the resurrection (John 19:26–27). According to early church tradition, John outlived the other apostles and spent many years shepherding churches in the Greco-Roman world, particularly in and around Ephesus — a major center of philosophy, culture, and commerce. This matters, because John’s Gospel reflects the questions of that world: questions about meaning, truth, life, and the nature of reality itself. John likely wrote this Gospel later in his life, after decades of ministry, persecution, and reflection, at a time when confusion about Jesus was growing and competing ideas about truth were spreading. Unlike the other Gospels, John does not attempt to record every event. He writes selectively and intentionally, telling us exactly why: “These are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name.” (John 20:31) This Gospel is not merely a biography — it is a testimony shaped by a lifetime of following Jesus. John writes so that readers would not only know about Jesus, but see Him clearly, trust Him deeply, and discover life in Him

John introduces Jesus with a title: “The Word” (Logos). To his original audience, this word carried immense meaning. For Jewish readers, “the Word” recalled:

God speaking creation into existence

God revealing Himself through His Word

God’s presence active in the world

For Greek readers, Logos meant:

the rational force behind the universe

the source of order, meaning, and truth

John is making a bold claim to both worlds: The power that created everything and the wisdom that holds everything together is not an idea… not a philosophy… not an abstract force… It is a Person. And that Person is Jesus.

John 1:1–18 is not an introduction — it is a foundation. It tells us: who Jesus is

where He comes from

why He came

what kind of God we are dealing with

This is not a God who shouts from heaven. This is a God who steps into the world. Not to dominate. Not to impress. But to dwell. To be with us. And that truth will shape everything that follows — in John’s Gospel, and in our understanding of who God truly is.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” — John 1:1 To a modern reader, that can feel abstract. Poetic, yes — but distant. So imagine John saying it this way for our time: In the beginning was the power behind everything. The force that brought the universe into existence. And that power was with God. And that power was God. A close parallel for us might be energy. Energy is everywhere. It animates life. It moves matter. It fuels the universe. Nothing exists apart from it. But energy, as we understand it, is: faceless, nameless, impersonal, without intention or love It simply is. And this is where John does something radical. He tells us that what we’ve assumed is an impersonal force — what we might think of as energy, life-force, or cosmic power — has a name. It thinks. It chooses. It loves. It creates with purpose. John is saying: You don’t come from randomness. You don’t come from a cold system of rules. You don’t come from a mechanical universe running on spiritual clockwork. You come from Someone. The source of all life is not a principle. Not a vibration. Not a detached force. The source of all life is a living, thinking, loving God who acted intentionally from the very beginning. This means the universe is not accidental. And neither are you. You are not caught inside a fixed system that doesn’t care. You are not a byproduct of chaos. You are not an afterthought in a cosmic equation. Creation did not emerge from indifference — it emerged from intention. John wants us to understand this before Jesus ever speaks a word or performs a miracle: The power that holds everything together is personal. And that power stepped into history. The Word didn’t stay abstract. The Logos didn’t remain distant. The force behind all things took on flesh. Which means: Meaning is not something you have to invent. Purpose is not something you have to manufacture. Love is not something the universe forgot to include. It was there from the beginning. And if the source of all things is personal — then your life is not a mistake. Your suffering is not unseen. Your story is not meaningless. The energy behind the universe has a mind, a heart, a will — and He chose to bring you into being. And His name is Jesus.

Darkness, in Scripture, is never just the absence of light. It represents chaos. Fear. Evil. Ignorance. Oppression. Death. Everything that fractures the world — and the human heart. And John doesn’t say the darkness welcomed the light. He doesn’t say it understood the light. He doesn’t even say it noticed the light. He says the light entered it anyway. That matters — because darkness doesn’t disappear by being argued with. It doesn’t retreat because it’s explained. It doesn’t surrender because it’s shamed. Darkness only loses when light shows up. And that’s exactly what God does. He doesn’t stand at a distance condemning the dark. He doesn’t wait for the world to clean itself up. He steps directly into it. Into broken systems. Into violent empires. Into suffering bodies. Into confused hearts. Into your life. And here’s the promise John is making: Darkness can resist the light — but it cannot stop it. The word John uses means: to overpower, to seize, to extinguish, to dominate. And the verdict is clear: It tried. And it failed. Which means this: Your worst moment is not the strongest force in your story. The light doesn’t ask permission to shine. It doesn’t negotiate with the dark. It simply arrives — and everything begins to change. So if your life feels shadowed right now… If hope feels thin… If clarity feels distant… If the darkness feels loud… Hold onto this truth: Light has entered the world. And it cannot be undone. It didn’t just illuminate the darkness — it defeated it.

“To all who received Him… He gave the right to become children of God.” — John 1:12 This may be one of the most quietly radical lines in all of Scripture. John does not say: To those who performed well. To those who understood everything. To those who followed the rules perfectly. To those who were born into the right family. He says: To those who received Him. Which means the defining action of faith is not achievement — it’s acceptance. In the world we know, identity is earned. You belong if you succeed. You’re valued if you prove yourself. You’re included if you meet the standard. But the Kingdom works differently. God does not offer status — He offers family. And notice the language John uses: “He gave them the right to become children of God.” Not permission. Not a temporary pass. Not a conditional invitation. A right. Something granted. Something secured. Something that cannot be taken away. Becoming a child of God is not the reward for spiritual maturity — it is the starting place of it. You don’t obey to become family. You obey because you already are. You don’t receive love once you’re clean. You’re cleaned because you’re loved. This is why Jesus doesn’t say, “Fix yourself and then come.” He says, “Come — and I’ll do the healing.” So if you’ve ever felt like you don’t belong… If you’ve assumed God keeps you at arm’s length… If you’ve believed you needed to earn your place… Hear this clearly: You don’t become God’s child by trying harder. You become God’s child by opening your hands. Receiving Jesus means stepping out of striving and into relationship. Out of performance and into belonging. Out of fear and into family. And once you are a child — nothing can un-child you. You are not tolerated. You are not on probation. You are not one mistake away from being cast out. You are received. You are named. You are loved. This is the miracle John wants you to see: God did not just come to forgive you. He came to adopt you. And that changes everything.

John doesn’t begin his Gospel with a command or a demand. He begins with a revelation. Before you ever believed. Before you ever understood. Before you ever reached for God— God was already moving toward you. The force behind everything has a face. The light that overcomes darkness has a name. And the God who created all things chose not to stay distant, abstract, or untouchable. He came close. He stepped into a world fractured by fear, sin, and shadow—not to condemn it, but to dwell in it. Not to overpower it, but to heal it. Not to demand belonging, but to offer it. John wants you to see this clearly: Faith is not about earning your way into God’s presence. It’s about realizing He has already come into yours. The light didn’t wait for the darkness to improve. It entered it. And the darkness could not stop it. And to all who receive Him—not achieve, not perform, not prove— He gives a new identity: children of God. That means you are not tolerated. You are not on trial. You are not one failure away from being pushed out. You are received. You are named. You belong. So wherever you find yourself today— confused, weary, hopeful, doubtful, searching— know this: The Word has come close. The light is already shining. And God is not waiting for you to earn His love. He has already given it. And His invitation still stands: Receive. Belong. Live.

Blessings,

Michael

The world feels chaotic, but your news source doesn’t have to.

You can hide under a rock or spiral into the chaos… or you can subscribe to The Pour Over and get the news you need to know and the peace you crave.

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, The Pour Over sends quick news summaries that are actually fun to read. Plus, each newsletter includes short biblical reminders to help you stay focused on Christ and eternity. Instead of fueling outrage or anxiety, the news becomes another prompt to rest in God and respond in faith.

Over 1.5 million Christians have ditched the doomscroll and found a better way to stay informed––Christ-first, anger-free, and (even kinda) funny.

Try it for free and check out their welcome email that’ll make you glad you did!

Sign up for free today!