The Christian faith has some jaw-dropping claims: that God exists, that he loves us, that Jesus died on a cross and in that God forgives our sins, that Jesus then triumphed over death for us. This is challenging, wonderful, hard to believe and awe-inspiring all at the same time.

But one of the most incredible parts of the Christian faith is what we call the Incarnation. In-carne. In-the-flesh. That God - the eternal maker of the universe, without body, spirit, time, or blemish - God came to us as a human. The gospel of John says it best in chapter 1 by stating, "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us." Literally it means God pitched a tent among us. He "tabernacled" among us, as the ancient Israelites would have heard it. The Creator enters into creation! God gave up his throne to be with us in the mud, in the blood and in the laughter and death of human existence. Or rather, in Jesus we realize that God's throne always has been with humans, nearer to us than we ever knew. God's presence, love and forgiveness there right in front of our eyes. God revealing himself as the man Jesus of Nazareth is a turning point for the universe.

I am thinking about this because of Haiti. If I allow myself to think about it for any length of time, I start to feel sick. I am overwhelmed at the thought that long after my attention and sympathy fade, those brothers and sisters will still be cloaked in a shroud of tragedy - dealing with loss on a scale that we can hardly fathom. The Bible reveals that God's anger can reach into human history with power and terror. But more often it promotes another truth: that at the very moment when it seems God has most abandoned us, he is most near to us. It may be the most difficult thing to believe in the Christian faith. But there it is: while we were yet sinners, marching and trudging along in the rutted, blood-soaked path of human history, while we were crying out for liberation, for healing and while we had given up - God sent his only Son to us. He took on flesh for us, that even in the pitch-blackness of tragedy we can see that Light which flickers within reach of our shivering, outstretched hands.