The Final Word: God Speaks in Son

"God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son…" — Hebrews 1:1–2a

Three words continue to echo in my spirit whenever I open the book of Hebrews: "so much better." These words pulse with divine revelation, drawing us into the magnificent reality that unfolds in the opening verses of Hebrews 1. Here, the inspired writer reveals a profound truth—God has always spoken, but now He speaks in a way that transcends everything that came before. He speaks "in Son."

Throughout human history, God's voice has sounded. In Eden's twilight, He walked with Adam. At Sinai, He thundered His law to Moses. To Elijah, He whispered in the stillness. To Daniel, He unveiled visions of kingdoms to come. Each revelation was authentic—a glimpse of His character, His purposes, His heart—yet each remained incomplete, a fragment of the whole.

The writer describes this as speaking "at sundry times and in divers manners" to the fathers through the prophets. These holy men and women caught glimpses of divine glory, yet even they searched their own words, straining to understand what the Spirit was revealing through them (1 Peter 1:10–11). They were vessels of truth, yet the truth they carried was like scattered rays of light before the dawn—genuine, real but only partial.

Then came the moment that divided history.

In these "last days"—the final chapter of God's redemptive narrative—something unprecedented occurred. The Father didn't merely send another messenger. He came Himself, and spoke "in Son." Notice the absence of the article in the Greek text (ἐν υἱῷ). This emphasizes not just a title but a quality, a relationship, a mode of being. This isn't God speaking through another prophet but in the perfect Son-relationship—a means of divine self-disclosure so complete it renders all previous revelations as mere prelude.

This shift represents the fulfillment of humanity's deepest longing—to truly know God. No longer must we piece together shadows or strain to hear distant echoes. In Jesus, the unapproachable God makes Himself approachable. The invisible becomes visible. The eternal mystery steps into time and space.

I sometimes wonder how the first readers of Hebrews must have felt. Having treasured the law and prophets their entire lives, they now faced a startling declaration: all that came before—however sacred, however true—was merely preparation for this moment. The eloquence of Isaiah, the passion of David, the wisdom of Solomon—all were but whispers compared to this final Word. How humbling to realize that the texts they had memorized and revered were only ever meant to lead them to this one Person.

This is what sets Christianity apart from every religion on earth. The Son isn't merely a conduit of divine truth; He is the embodiment of the Father's very essence. As Jesus told the questioning Philip, "He who has seen Me has seen the Father" (John 14:9). The God whose glory once filled Solomon's temple, whose face Moses couldn't behold and live, now walks dusty Galilean roads in human flesh.

In Christ, God's eternal nature is revealed through human action—compassion touching the leper, wisdom silencing the proud, love bleeding on Calvary's cross. No prophet could accomplish this. No vision could contain it. The Son is God Himself, the eternal Word made flesh (John 1:14), the Logos who was with God and was God (John 1:1), stepping into His creation not as delegate but as Redeemer.

The contrast is staggering. The prophets were faithful servants; the Son is the expression of the Father's very being. They spoke words; He is the Word. They pointed toward God; He reveals God in every heartbeat, every tear, every triumph. As Paul declares, "In Him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bodily" (Colossians 2:9). When Jesus says, "I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father except through Me" (John 14:6), He's not merely pointing to a path—He is declaring Himself the destination.

In our information-saturated age, when endless voices compete for our attention, this truth becomes even more vital. We don't lack for words—we're drowning in them. Social media feeds, podcasts, bestsellers, and breaking news all clamor for our focus. Even in religious spaces, teachings multiply and opinions divide. But amid this cacophony, the Father still speaks one Word that matters above all others: His Son.

What does this mean for us today, in an age where shadows often masquerade as substance and religious noise drowns out divine clarity? It's a call to recognize where God's voice truly sounds—in the Son. Not in fleeting experiences or human wisdom, but in Jesus, the revelation that outshines all others. He is not merely a chapter in God's story—He is the culmination of every promise, the answer to every human longing. To know Him is to know God Himself, and in that knowing lies life eternal (John 17:3).

When I consider my own spiritual journey, I realize how often I've complicated what God made simple. I've sought complex systems when the Father was pointing to a Person. I've analyzed doctrines when He was inviting me to relationship. I've strained to hear new revelations when the greatest revelation had already been given. Perhaps you've done the same.

So I ask myself—and you—what will we do with this Word? Will we settle for fragments when fullness stands before us? Will we chase echoes when the Voice Himself speaks? Hebrews 1 beckons us to lift our gaze, to behold the Son who perfectly reveals the Father, and to let His voice transform us from within. He speaks still—through His life recorded in Scripture, through His Spirit dwelling in believers, through His ongoing work in human history.

May we have ears truly opened to hear Him, and hearts prepared to respond.

A Prayer

Lord Jesus, You are the Father's final Word, His perfect expression to a world lost in darkness. Open my ears to hear You above all other voices. Open my eyes to see the Father's heart revealed in Your every action. Draw me into the wonder of Your Sonship, where God becomes truly known. When I complicate what You've made simple, gently draw me back to Yourself. Silence the shadows and confusion of this age; let Your voice reign supreme in my heart today. Amen.