Excerpt from Someone to Believe In: Embracing the Savior Who Stays the Same When Everything Else Changes by Courtney Reissig (© 2025). Published by B&H Publishing. Used by permission.

When the Prologue (verses 1-18) in John’s Gospel ends, John hits the ground running, showing us stories of belief and how Jesus is the Christ. At the beginning, the incarnation drives these stories. If you see him as the Word made flesh and believe, you receive the right to be his child (verse 12). This is the burning question for the witnesses in John. When the God who made everything, and upholds it all right now with his power, walks among you—do you believe? He doesn’t walk among us today, but the question burns as hot as ever. In the Word, we see him. Do we believe?    

The rest of John 1 introduces us to many key players in the life of Christ. They explain the Prologue and set the stage for the rest of the book. They come to us in varied stages of belief and from different circumstances. But all are confronted with the Jesus who draws near, who shows what God is like. We meet John the Baptist, who is confronted by priests, leaders, and fellow Jews about this man he baptized in the Jordan. “Are you the Messiah?” they ask. John had a following in his own right, but he knew his place. He kept pointing to the one who came after him—the one who fulfilled all that had been promised before them.   

It sounded crazy that the Messiah walked among them as God incarnate. But how can he be “the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world,” (verse 29) if he isn’t God in the flesh? The blood of bulls and goats wasn’t taking care of it for them. The long and painful history of Israel proved they needed something more potent.

But he doesn’t just come as a sacrifice, he comes as a relational person. He comes to “dwell” among his people. He comes to call disciples to himself and walk among them as friends. He comes to call people out of darkness and into light.   

When he meets his first disciples at the end of John 1, some follow because of John the Baptist’s repeated cry: “Look, the Lamb of God!” (verse 36). They see who he is, but it’s a veiled sight. There is an immediacy to their belief, they follow him at once. But throughout John, it’s a process. As the chapter progresses, more disciples join them, but this time they weren’t looking for Jesus. Instead, Jesus finds Philip and says, “Follow me.” Like any good disciple, he passes it on and finds Nathanael, but is met with skepticism. They’ve never seen anything good come from Nazareth, surely it can’t be where the long-awaited Messiah is from? But Jesus is undeterred by the doubts, which only reinforce both his deity and his believability. He had every right to demand belief from Nathanael, but he didn’t coerce him. He speaks to him in the ways Nathanael needs. He needed to see that someone believable could come out of Nazareth, so Jesus reveals his knowledge. He knew Nathanael before Nathanael knew him. And that was enough for Nathanael to hear and believe. He’s given the “right” to become a child of God. Nathanael received him.   

Finding Belief  

The Gospel writers portray a flesh and blood Savior. They portray a man who walked the earth. A man who lived a real life and died a real death. They show him rising from the dead and ascending to heaven. They paint a picture of a Savior who weeps, eats, and bleeds. We understand a living Savior. We even understand a dying Savior. But John comes and says, “He has always existed. He even created the entire world.” Belief requires us to put our faith and trust in someone—something—outside ourselves. It might not always make sense in our finite minds, but it’s true. John urges us to take a hard look at this Savior and find everything he writes worthy of our belief—even if it feels too radical to comprehend.   

Much ink has been spilled on the incarnation. Entire books have been written about it. Theological arguments have been had about it. But there is something to be said for the effect of the incarnation. There is the “believability” factor that leads to doubt among Christians, that’s certain. But there is also the believability factor that leads to life.   

No other religion has a God stooping so low. No other religion has a God taking the punishment on himself. No other religion has a God walking among his people and calling them his friends. No other religion has a God who lets people ask him questions, even insulting ones.   

But this Christ, he does it all. The remainder of John 1 shows Jesus living out his deity. It’s the incarnation on display. At his baptism, John testifies that the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus like a dove—affirming his messiahship (verse 34). John the Baptist repeatedly cries out that this is the Lamb of God, the one promised to remove the sins of God’s people. As Jesus continues his ministry journey, he calls his disciples to himself personally. He sees them before they see him. He knows their doubts and stands ready with an answer before they even open their mouths. The incarnation is deeply personal because we have a God who draws near and calls us his friends. He invites them to follow him, and he gives them new names. God could have saved us from a distance, but he drew near. His entire ministry on earth was rooted in relationship because his intent was always to dwell. His rescue plan to resume life among his people is the centerpiece of the Bible—and John 1 is the fulfillment of the story. From the Word creating the world to the Word inhabiting the world, tabernacling among us was always the point. He’s that kind of Savior. Of all the world’s people to put our trust in, why would we resist believing in such a leader as this?  

Philippians 2:6-7 says this about the radical nature of Christ’s incarnation:  

who, existing in the form of God,  
did not consider equality with God  
as something to be exploited   
Instead he emptied himself  
by assuming the form of a servant,  
taking on the likeness of humanity.  

He didn’t have to come. He possessed everything he could ever want in heaven. He had to empty himself to assume a human body and tabernacle among us. The God who deserves our service came to serve. The God who is highly exalted, took up residence in a human body and was born in a barn. He left it all so we could have it all. Is that believable?   

A lot makes Christianity seem unbelievable—makes Christ seem unbelievable. As A.J. Swoboda says in his book, A Glorious Dark, “People would rather follow someone real than someone good. But I think the world will eventually be changed by those who are both good and real.”

The God who created the world and everything in it, also left it all to live among the world he made—and bring us back to him. It is as the great hymn writer says, he “emptied himself of all but love.” As he walked among the people he created, love compelled him to call them and draw them. He may have emptied himself of the right to exert his deity at all times, but love is who God is and that can never be taken from him. It’s what kept him going. Dwelling among his people was always his goal. All we have to do is believe in his name—and that this name is both good and real.  

What makes him someone to believe in today—as he is no longer walking the earth? Maybe you are like Philip, and he is calling you to follow him. Do you hear John’s words that he is the Lamb of God, and do you believe? Or are you more like Nathanael, looking around at the Christian landscape and thinking nothing good can come out of Christianity anymore? Just as Philip looked at Nathanael, Jesus looks at you and says, “Come and see.”