When God moved in, He did not arrive empty-handed. He arrived with all of His fullness. 1
John wrote that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and then added a phrase that can slip past us if we’re not careful: full of grace and truth (John 1:14).
Not inclined toward one.
Not balancing the two.
Full — brimming, complete — of both.
Those words weren’t accidental. John wasn’t improvising. He was reaching back deep into Israel’s memory, pulling forward language that had always described the very heart of God.
Grace and Truth Have a History
The Greek words John used — charis (grace) and alētheia (truth) — carried weight in their own right. But they carried even more when read through the Scriptures Jesus had grown up hearing.
Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, God’s character was described with a paired phrase: ḥesed and ʾemet — steadfast love and faithfulness. Covenant loyalty and reliability. Mercy that holds fast and truth that does not shift. 2
After Israel’s rebellion with the golden calf, when Moses asked to see God’s glory, the Lord proclaimed His own name:
“The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love (ḥesed) and faithfulness (ʾemet).” (Exodus 34:6) 3
This was not a passing description. It was God explaining God.
The Psalms returned to it again and again:
- “Steadfast love and faithfulness go before You” (Psalm 89:14).
- “Steadfast love and faithfulness meet; righteousness and peace kiss each other” (Psalm 85:10).
This was relational language: ḥesed named God’s refusal to walk away. ʾemet named His utter trustworthiness.
So when John described Jesus as full of grace and truth, he was making a staggering claim: what Israel had known about God had now taken on flesh.
Grace and Truth Took on a Face
Jesus did not merely speak about grace; He embodied it.
He welcomed the unclean, shared tables with the compromised, and refused to reduce people to their worst decisions. That was ḥesed embodied — covenant love moving toward the undeserving.
But He also spoke with piercing clarity.
He named hypocrisy. He confronted self-righteousness. He exposed illusions of power and wealth. That was ʾemet — truth anchored in reality, not sentiment.
And in Him, these were never at odds.
Grace never diluted truth.
Truth never canceled grace.
When Jesus encountered the woman caught in adultery, He did not pretend sin didn’t matter — but He also refused to let condemnation have the final word. When He met Zacchaeus, grace came first — and truth followed close behind, reshaping his life from the inside out.
Jesus did not oscillate between grace and truth. He lived at the intersection of both.
Why We Pull Them Apart
We tend to pull grace and truth apart.
Some of us lean toward grace — valuing kindness, empathy, welcome — but hesitate to name what is broken or distorted. Others lean toward truth — certainty, conviction, moral seriousness — but struggle to extend mercy without conditions.
Jesus refused that split. Scripture refuses that split. God never asked Israel to choose between love and faithfulness. He revealed Himself as abounding in both.
Grace is not permissive.
Truth is not harsh.
Together, they restore.
Grace and Truth Dwelling Among Us
John said the Word dwelt among us — literally, tabernacled. The same glory that once filled the wilderness tent now walked the roads of Galilee. That meant…
To encounter Jesus was to meet steadfast love.
To listen to Jesus was to hear faithful truth.
Living Full of Grace and Truth
John was not composing a theological treatise; he wrote so we would recognize the character of God.
If Jesus was full of grace and truth, then those who follow Him were invited into that same way of being.
Not graceless truth that wounds.
Not truthless grace that avoids reality.
But love that remains steady and truth that leads to life.
Perhaps the question this text presses upon us is not Do you believe this? But where might you be resisting half of God’s character?
Where do you long for grace but avoid truth?
Where do you cling to truth but withhold grace?
When God moved in, He brought both — and entrusted that way of life to those who would bear His name.
And maybe the world, weary of distortion and suspicion, still longs to see what ḥesed and ʾemet looks like with skin on.
1 See Colossians 2
2 When Hebrew scholars translated their scriptures into Greek, ḥesed and ʾemet were translated as charis and alētheia.
3 Keep in mind that when we read LORD (all caps.), it is translated as Yahweh in the Hebrew scriptures. It’s the name God revealed to Moses when he wondered what to say once the Israelites questioned who had sent him. Yahweh effectively describes God as the one who was, who is, and who forever will be. See Exodus 3.
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