I send a text: "That's great." Do I mean it's genuinely great? Sarcastic? Mildly positive? Disappointed but polite? The words alone don't convey my actual meaning.
So I add an emoji: "That's great 😊" (genuine), "That's great 😑" (sarcastic), "That's great 😬" (awkward). The emoji provides crucial emotional context that text alone can't communicate.
As an autistic person who struggles with interpreting emotional subtext, I appreciate emojis' explicitness. They make implied meaning more explicit, reducing ambiguity.
But they also reveal communication's fundamental problem: words alone often fail to convey meaning fully. We need more than linguistic symbols—we need embodied presence, facial expressions, vocal tone, physical gestures.
And this illuminates why the Incarnation was necessary. God couldn't fully communicate through text alone (law, prophets). Full communication required embodied presence—the Word becoming flesh.
The Text-Only Problem
Text-based communication strips away crucial information:
- Vocal tone: Is this playful, serious, angry, sad?
- Facial expression: Are you smiling, frowning, rolling your eyes?
- Body language: Are you tense, relaxed, open, defensive?
- Timing: Are you pausing for effect, rushed, carefully considered?
All these provide meaning beyond mere words. When removed, messages become ambiguous.
Emojis attempt to restore some of this—adding emotional valence that text alone lacks. They're crude substitutes for actual presence, but they help.
The Autistic Interpretation Challenge
Neurotypical people often claim they "just know" what someone means even when words could support multiple interpretations. They read tone, body language, context fluently.
I can't do that. I need explicit markers. Emojis help because they make implicit meaning more explicit—the 😊 tells me this is meant positively even if I couldn't have inferred it from words alone.
But even emojis are insufficient. They're standardized symbols that can't capture individual nuance. A😊 from one person might mean something different than a 😊 from another.
Old Testament Communication Limits
God communicated through the Old Testament primarily through text—written law, prophetic oracles, psalms, wisdom literature. This communicated truth, but with limitations.
Text requires interpretation. The same passage can support multiple meanings. Without tone, emphasis, elaboration, the text alone can be ambiguous.
Jewish tradition developed extensive interpretive frameworks (Talmud, Midrash) to handle this ambiguity. But interpretation never fully resolves what the Author meant—it approximates, argues, proposes.
The Word Becomes Flesh
"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:14). God's ultimate communication wasn't text but embodied presence.
Jesus didn't just teach truth—He enacted it. He didn't just describe God's character—He manifested it in human form. The disciples didn't just read about God—they saw, heard, touched the Word made visible (1 John 1:1).
This enabled communication that text alone couldn't achieve. You can misinterpret written words, but when someone shows you through lived example, the meaning becomes clearer.
Face-to-Face Communication
Moses encountered God "face to face, as one speaks to a friend" (Exodus 33:11). This direct communication was rare, special, limited to unique prophetic encounters.
But the Incarnation makes face-to-face encounter with God available to all. Jesus is "the radiance of God's glory and exact representation of his being" (Hebrews 1:3). To see Jesus is to see the Father (John 14:9).
This is why the Incarnation matters apologetically. God didn't remain distant, communicating only through texts requiring expert interpretation. God became present, demonstrating divine character through human life.
Emojis as Poor Substitute
Emojis are better than nothing, but they're poor substitutes for presence. A 😊 doesn't equal an actual smile. A ❤️ doesn't fully convey genuine love. They gesture toward meaning that requires presence to fully communicate.
Similarly, Old Testament shadows and types gestured toward Christ but couldn't fully communicate what the Incarnation reveals. The law was good but incomplete. It needed fulfillment through embodied divine presence.
The American Texting Culture
American culture increasingly relies on text-based communication—emails, texts, social media. This is efficient but risks losing depth.
Relationships maintained entirely through texts become shallow. You think you know someone, but you're responding to carefully curated written presentations, not engaging with their full embodied presence.
Similarly, Christianity can't be sustained through written theology alone. We need embodied community, physical presence, shared worship. The church is body, not text.
Misreading the Incarnation
Some Christians treat Jesus primarily as moral teacher—someone who said wise things that we should follow. This reduces Incarnation to upgraded text communication.
But Incarnation is more than better teaching. It's God entering human existence, experiencing human limitations, demonstrating divine character through lived example.
Jesus didn't just tell us to love enemies—He loved enemies from the cross. He didn't just teach about humble service—He washed feet. The message was inseparable from the embodied messenger.
The Autistic Need for Explicitness
My autistic cognitive style needs explicit communication. This initially made me prefer text—written words are explicit in ways verbal communication isn't.
But I've learned embodied presence provides different kinds of explicitness. When someone's actions match their words, the meaning becomes clear in ways that text alone can't achieve.
Jesus' embodied life provides this clarity. He didn't just say "God is love"—He demonstrated it through how He treated people. Theory became practice, abstract became concrete.
The Return to Presence
COVID forced increased reliance on virtual communication—video calls instead of physical presence. This was better than nothing, but everyone noticed something missing.
Screens mediate. They provide visual and audio but not full presence. You can't read a room through a screen. You can't feel the energy of gathered community. Something essential is lost.
Eschatology promises return to unmediated presence. We'll see God "face to face" (1 Corinthians 13:12). Not through texts, not through digital avatars, but direct encounter.
Theological Emojis
Maybe sacraments function like theological emojis—physical signs that add crucial meaning to verbal proclamation. The words "This is my body" accompanied by bread and wine communicate more than words alone could.
Baptism doesn't just symbolize washing—it enacts it physically. Communion doesn't just teach about Christ's sacrifice—it involves taste, touch, smell. Physical elements add dimensions that words alone lack.
The Limits of Apologetics
Written apologetics (like this blog) are useful but limited. I can argue for God's existence textually, but I can't make you encounter God through text alone.
That requires presence—community where God's Spirit is active, worship where transcendence is experienced, relationships where Christ's love is demonstrated.
This is why evangelism isn't just argumentation. It's inviting people into embodied community where they can encounter Christ through His body, the church.
Practical Implications
What do emojis teach about communication and Incarnation?
- Text alone is insufficient: Full meaning requires embodied presence
- Make implicit explicit: Clarify meaning when possible
- Prioritize presence: Digital communication doesn't replace physical community
- Actions matter: Embodied demonstration communicates what words can't
- Encounter over information: Christian faith is relational, not just propositional
- Sacraments as embodied communication: Physical elements carry meaning beyond words
- Look forward to presence: Ultimate communication is face-to-face
Conclusion
Emojis reveal what we lose in text-only communication—emotional context, relational warmth, embodied presence. They're crude attempts to restore what physical presence provides naturally.
The Incarnation reveals what we'd lose if God communicated only through text. Words can convey truth, but embodied presence demonstrates it. Theory becomes practice, abstract becomes concrete, distant God becomes Immanuel.
My autistic need for explicit communication makes me appreciate both text and embodiment. Text provides clarity, precision, reviewable content. Embodiment provides context, demonstration, relationship.
Together, they enable fuller communication than either alone. Scripture provides authoritative text. Christ provides embodied demonstration. The church provides ongoing presence where Word becomes flesh in community.
One day, all communication will be perfect—face to face, unmediated, fully present. No emojis needed to clarify meaning, no texts requiring interpretation, no screens mediating encounter.
Until then, we navigate between text and presence—reading Scripture, gathering physically, sharing sacraments, demonstrating truth through embodied community.
Like adding emojis to clarify text, we add presence to clarify proclamation. Neither alone suffices. Together, they communicate more fully.
The Word became flesh. Not because words are bad, but because they're insufficient for complete communication. God's ultimate message required embodied presence—showing what mere telling couldn't fully convey.
That's the pattern: text plus presence, word plus embodiment, proclamation plus demonstration.
No emoji can fully convey love. But a loving presence can. And God provided exactly that—Emmanuel, God with us, the Word made flesh, dwelling among us full of grace and truth.
That's communication at its fullest. And it's what we look forward to—permanent presence, unmediated encounter, face-to-face communion.
Better than any emoji. Better even than words. The real thing, embodied and present. Finally, fully, forever.