I tell God that I cannot see beyond that which is like myself, for I am dust and I cling to the dust. God, who by the Word created the universe, does not ignore my confession or make light of my condition. Indeed, on this very night I will celebrate the fact that the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth [John 1:14]. The One who made the dust became dust that I might be united in him in life, in death, and beyond.
O you who made all flesh, how can I begin to celebrate the mystery of the Word-Made-Flesh?