λογος: It’s Greek to Me But Not for Long

Key Takeaways

➤ Logos isn’t just a word—it’s the framework of reality. In Greek philosophy, logos meant reason, order, and the logic . But John takes it further: Logos isn’t just the structure behind creation—it’s a Person. Jesus is the divine logos behind the cosmos, the voice that spoke light into being, now clothed in flesh.

➤ The Incarnation is the scandal of speech becoming skin. John 1:1 doesn’t introduce a poetic idea; it unveils a cosmic shockwave. The Word didn’t just descend with thunder; He took on dust. Jesus is not merely God’s message—He is God, with lungs and laughter, walking roads and washing feet. The eternal Logos didn’t just communicate God’s will; He embodied it.

➤ When you open your Bible, you’re not reading information—you’re encountering Him. Logos isn’t ink on a page. It’s the voice that created stars and still speaks peace into chaos. The Word of God isn’t something to study like a textbook—it’s Someone who rewrites your story, transforms your mind, and calls you to more than survival.

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Let’s talk about one of the most sacred words ever to grace a page—Logos.
It’s one of the first Greek words students learn in seminary, and ironically, it's the last one we ever truly master. Because logos doesn’t just mean “word”—it means everything.

John wasn’t being poetic for the sake of poetry when he opened his gospel with, “In the beginning was the Word.” He was being thunderously deliberate. He chose a word so heavy, so loaded, it collapses beneath the weight of any single definition.

So what is this word, Logos?

Let’s wander through time.

A Word Older Than Language

Like English, Greek isn’t static—it grew, evolved, shifted. By the time the New Testament was penned, the language had settled into what we call Koine Greek—the common tongue of the people. But before that, during the intertestamental hush between Malachi and Matthew, the world spoke the elevated, sharp-edged language of Classical Greek. And in that older dialect, the word logos wasn’t just a word. It was a world. A layered, luminous concept that meant everything from reason and reckoning to speech, story, and the very logic behind the universe.

Historians used logos to mean a “reckoning” or “account.” Philosophers, like Aristotle and Plato, saw it as reason, the soul’s power to make sense of chaos and name what is good, evil, just, or unjust. For Heraclitus, the logos was the cosmic principle that held everything together—a divine thread stitching the world’s contradictions into something coherent.

Even then, logos wasn’t just a sound. It was sense. It was the invisible logic behind every visible thing.

And then… God took it one step further.

The Word that Breathed

In the Hebrew Scriptures—particularly the Greek translation known as the Septuagint (LXX)—logos was used to capture divine speech. Not mere noise. Not soundwaves. Speech that creates, commands, convicts.

Genesis whispers it: “Let there be light…” And light obeys.

Then, at the end of the Old Testament, silence.

For four hundred years, the heavens seemed mute. Until a Galilean named John picks up his pen and describes God in flesh, the only way worthy:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

After four hundred years, God breaks the silence between Him and His people with Himself.

Cue the awe. Cue the scandal. This wasn’t just poetry. This was reality unmasked. John isn’t introducing a character—he’s unveiling the very logic behind creation, clothed in flesh and walking around with dirty feet and healing hands.

The Logos wasn’t just sent. He became.

Ignatius to the Magnesians says, “There is one God, who has revealed Himself through Jesus Christ His son, who is His ‘Word’ proceeding from silence.”[1] It is sheer perfection that John begins his gospel with a term that surpasses a singular meaning. After four hundred years, God breaks the silence between Him and His people with Himself.

Philo’s Puzzle and the Word Made Flesh

He used Moses and Aaron as metaphors—Moses, the thinker; Aaron, the speaker. Both needed. Both reflecting God.

Before John ever wrote those words, Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexandria tried to explain the logos as a kind of bridge—God’s speech made sensible to humans. He divided it into two types: the logos inside (divine reason kept in the mind) and the logos spoken aloud (God’s self-expression reaching out).

He used Moses and Aaron as metaphors—Moses, the thinker; Aaron, the speaker. Both needed. Both reflecting God.

But John didn’t stop at metaphor. He looked at Jesus and said: This isn’t just God speaking anymore. This is God with us.

The Word that was at the beginning creating the dust now walks on the ground He made covered in flesh. He is no longer merely the voice from the fire—He is the man who sat beside the fire, breaking bread and calling us friend.

The Word That Won’t Stay Quiet

We hear echoes of logos throughout the New Testament. Sometimes it just means a simple “message” or “speech.” Other times, it points straight to Jesus. Revelation 19 doesn’t hold back: “His name is the Word of God.” His robe is dipped in blood. This is not metaphor. This is majesty.

So What Do We Do With This?

Honestly? We bow.

But if we’re being practical too, here’s the thing: Logos means Jesus is not just our Savior—He is our standard, our sense, our speech, our sanity. He’s the reason behind everything that’s ever made us stop and whisper, “There must be more than this.”

He is the Word that spoke galaxies into being and still speaks peace into your anxiety. He is logic with lungs. Truth with toes. Divinity wrapped in dirt.

And He didn’t just come to inform us.
He came to transform us.

So next time you hear Word of God, don’t skim past it.
Slow down. Let it hit.
You’re not just holding a Bible.

You’re holding the echo of Eden and the voice that called Lazarus out of a grave.

TL/DR

Logos isn’t just a fancy Greek word—it’s the divine logic of the universe, and His name is Jesus. John didn’t use it lightly; he was saying the same Word that created the cosmos became human. So when you read the Bible, you’re not just reading—you’re encountering the living Word who still speaks, saves, and transforms.

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[1] Walter Bauer. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament, and Other Early Christian Literature: A Translation and Adaption of Greichisch-Deutsches Wörterbuch Zu Den Schriften Des Neuen Testaments Und Der Übrigen Urchristlichen Literatur, 1957.

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Define Your Terms

(some might call this a glossary)

• TL/DR - Too Long/Didn’t Read

• Logos (λόγος) – Greek for “word,” “reason,” or “divine logic.”

• Koine Greek – The common dialect of Greek used in the New Testament period.

• Classical Greek – The more formal, earlier form of Greek used in ancient philosophy and history.

• Septuagint (LXX) – The Greek translation of the Hebrew Old Testament, widely used in Jesus’ day.

• Philo of Alexandria – A Jewish philosopher whose writings bridged Hebrew thought with Greek philosophy, especially the concept of logos.

• Logos Endiathetos – “The word within”—God’s internal reason or mind.

• Logos Prophorikos – “The word spoken”—God’s outward expression or revelation.

• Incarnation – The Christian belief that God became flesh in the person of Jesus Christ.

• Revelation (special/general) – Special revelation is God revealing Himself through Scripture and Jesus. General revelation refers to God revealed through nature, logic, or conscience.

• Ignatius to the Magnesians – Ignatius of Antioch, an early church bishop and martyr (c. AD 35–108), wrote a series of letters en route to his execution in Rome. His letter to the believers in Magnesia urges unity, doctrinal faithfulness, and reverence for Christ as fully God and fully man. In it, he refers to Jesus as the Word (Logos) “proceeding from silence”—a profound early affirmation of Christ’s divine origin.

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