The mystery we reflect upon in the Incarnation is truly astonishing: God himself became man. As St. John beautifully and simply puts it, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). It can be an overwhelming mystery. How can the infinite God possibly enter into finite human flesh? How can eternity itself step into the limits of time? These questions ought to challenge us not only intellectually but spiritually.
Catholic theologian Stephen Bullivant gives us a humorous way to think about this in his book, The Trinity: How Not to be a Heretic. Imagine you’ve grown up eating nothing but fast food, and then one day you experience a luxurious steakhouse meal. When you return home, you’d struggle immensely to describe that remarkable dinner using only the fast-food language your friends know. No matter how creative you are, your words would never fully capture the experience. The same happens to us when we try to speak about God: we’re limited by our finite, earthly language as we try to describe infinite divine truths.
The Compendium of the Catechism recognizes this struggle clearly, telling us:
“By taking as our starting point the perfections of man and of the other creatures which are a reflection, albeit a limited one, of the infinite perfection of God, we are able to speak about God with all people. We must, however, continually purify our language insofar as it is image-bound and imperfect, realizing that we can never fully express the infinite mystery of God” (CCCC 5).
Indeed, almost every word we use comes from our limited human experiences. Even St. Thomas Aquinas admitted how limited our understanding really is, remarking that “Our manner of knowing is so weak that no philosopher could perfectly investigate the nature of even one little fly” (Summa Contra Gentiles). If understanding a tiny insect is beyond us, how much more impossible it seems to fully grasp the nature of an infinite God!
Yet, despite our limitations, the Church assures us that our language can truthfully describe God, even though it cannot fully contain him. The Catechism states clearly: “God transcends all creatures. We must therefore continually purify our language of everything in it that is limited, image-bound, or imperfect” (CCC 42). Aquinas further helps us here by showing that words can be used in different ways—univocally, equivocally, and analogically. When speaking about God, analogical language becomes essential.
To put it simply, analogical language allows us to express truths about God through comparisons. For example, when I say a ice cream is “good,” and I say God is “good,” I’m using “good” analogically. The goodness of ice cream is limited and earthly, while God’s goodness is infinite perfection. Psalm 34 invites us: “O taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8). The Psalmist draws us toward God’s divine goodness through experiences we already know.
Metaphors further deepen our ability to grasp divine realities. Scripture regularly uses metaphors, such as calling God “our rock” (Psalm 18:2). Obviously, God is not literally a stone. Instead, such metaphors convey God’s steadfastness and reliability. Catholic theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar emphasizes the importance of metaphors, noting, “We must use metaphor precisely because the divine realities surpass any literal description we might attempt” (Theo-Logic).
Understanding this use of language helps us avoid misunderstandings and even serious theological mistakes. For instance, we often speak of Jesus as a “friend.” He himself says, “You are my friends if you do what I command you” (John 15:14). His friendship, though personal and intimate, also demands obedience and holiness. Pope Benedict XVI warns us against oversimplifying this friendship, reminding us, “Jesus’ friendship demands totality, the acceptance of His cross and commands” (Jesus of Nazareth).
St. Paul further affirms that God does reveal Himself to us, saying clearly, “Ever since the creation of the world, his invisible nature…has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made” (Romans 1:20). Yet, he warns us not to replace the infinite God with finite images (Romans 1:21-23). Psalm 50:21 cautions similarly: “You thought that I was one like yourself.” These verses remind us to remain humble, realizing our descriptions never exhaust God’s infinite majesty.
On the Feast of the Annunciation, I invite us to reflect deeply on this mystery of God’s humility and love. Pope John Paul II beautifully captures this truth, saying, “The Incarnation reveals the full measure of the Father’s love. The Word became flesh, uniting infinite divinity to finite humanity, precisely to communicate to humanity the very heart of God” (Redemptor Hominis, 9).
As Christians, we approach this mystery reverently, fully aware of how limited yet dignified our language is, but by regularly immersing ourselves in the sacraments, Scripture, and the rich traditions of the Church, we can actually and genuinely draw closer to the infinite God. And like Mary at the Annunciation, I hope we all can humbly echo her words, saying with faith, “Let it be done unto me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). Though our language is limited, we truly can and therefore ought to speak truthfully about the infinite love of God.