As I write this, I am keenly aware that one year ago, I was at a graveside, saying farewell to my mother. Grieving comes in waves. I rejoice that she is in heaven, and I rejoice that she had a good, long life, and that she didn’t suffer very long at the end. But there is still an ache– wanting to share a memory or a laugh and knowing she isn’t here; questions I didn’t know I had, but now she can’t answer them; just missing her voice and her smile. My father has been gone for 25 years, and the same ache still hits at odd moments.
Sometimes, grieving brings us closer to God. At other times, we can let our grief drive us away from God. But God doesn’t move. He is ever-present. And He reminds us that He is “close to the broken hearted” (Psalm 34:18). When we are grieving, that is a blessed reminder. Grief tends to isolate us. “No one understands…” “Laugh, and the whole world laughs with you; cry, and you cry alone.” We see the “rest of the world” enjoying life, seemingly untouched by sorrow, and we feel abandoned twice over.
As Christians, we are called to follow Jesus’ example, and be close to the broken hearted. We should be the ones ready with a hug, a listening ear, and a shoulder to cry on. We should be the ones who, like the friends of Job (before they offered ill-advised ‘counsel’) are willing to sit with our suffering friends for days at a time, offering the comfort of solidarity and ‘presence.’
My family was blessed with a host of Christian friends and family who comforted us in the days and weeks after Mom’s passing. They still ask. They still share memories. They still pray for us. And in return, we do the same. God does not want any of us to suffer alone.
And this is also true for those who suffer a broken heart for other reasons– divorce, the loss of a home to fire or flood, the loss of a job, a wayward son or daughter– it is important for us to draw strength from others, and offer strength in our turn. But the source of our strength is Jesus, who suffered on our behalf, and rose victorious over death and separation. When “no one” understands, He DOES. When the world leaves us grieving alone, He is THERE. And when we see someone else grieving and suffering, and we don’t know what to do– He gives us the strength and the compassion to reach beyond our own resources and offer comfort.
On our own, we can be like Job’s friends– after awhile, we try to offer solutions, explanations, even judgment about another’s grief. “It’s time to move on.” “Just get over it.” “Well, if only you had…” None of these are helpful. Jesus never said any of those things to the people He came to comfort. Instead, He encouraged them to look to Him as the “resurrection and the life.” (see John 11:25).
Today, let us do the same. There are hurting people all around us. Let’s be an encouragement to others to embrace life– even when we are broken hearted.
There once was a distinguished scholar and lecturer who was invited to be part of a symposium at a prestigious university. But during his time on stage, the professor realized that he was having a gas attack. Not wanting to embarrass himself by passing gas in front of the rest of the panel (and indeed the entire auditorium full of students) he politely asked to be excused to take a short break as the rest of the panel discussed a minor issue. He proudly excused himself, making it seem as though he was merely bored and wanted to stretch his legs a bit. Exiting the auditorium, he raced to the nearest bathroom and “let it rip,” not realizing that his portable microphone was still “hot.” The entire audience could hear, not only the gas he passed, but the other noises he made– of pain as the gas was passing, and of relief at the end of the attack. As he returned to his seat on stage, he was stunned to see people grinning and pointing, and hear stifled giggles as he rejoined the panel. Even his colleagues were finding it difficult to meet him with a straight face. Finally, the moderator asked, somewhat sarcastically, if the professor felt better after his break, and could be please be sure that his microphone was “turned back on…” As he finally realized what had happened, the professor was mortified, and barely spoke during the rest of the symposium. He left in a hurry, and it was many years before he agreed to visit that university again.
We may laugh at the downfall of the proud professor, but how often do we try to “pass gas” discreetly, pretending that we are “above” petty embarrassments and minor setbacks. As Christians, it is especially tempting to pretend that we “have it all together;” that because we follow Christ, we never struggle with pain, or niggling doubts, or unanswered questions. We sit in judgment on our neighbors because we do not stumble over the same sins that we see in them.
The world is watching. They pay close attention, not only to the sins we avoid, but to the sins we push aside or try to explain away. Sins like pride and gossip; sins like “bending the rules” and “fibbing.” It’s not that they don’t know about their own sins. In many cases, they are trapped in a cycle of guilt about their own sins, and their inability to escape the cycle on their own. Or they live in a web of lies about their lifestyles and habits– “I’m no worse than Him!” “God understands my weakness. He can’t condemn me for being the way He made me!” “God and I have a bargain. I don’t do X, and he’s ok that I do Y instead…”
But are we any “better?” “I don’t gossip. I ‘share’ prayer concerns.” “I’m a work in progress. God isn’t finished with me yet!” “King David told lies, and he was a ‘man after God’s own heart’!” “I’m not cheating on my taxes. You should hear my neighbor talk about what he’s done!” “I know I need to lose weight, but, well, there’s just more of me to love!” We are just as ready to find excuses for doing things we know to be wrong, unhealthy, unloving, and sinful, as our neighbor or our “enemy.”
Even more, we are tempted to pretend that we “have all the answers.” After all, if we trust God, how can we still have questions about pain or suffering or grief? We feel that admitting our weaknesses will expose us to ridicule, and that it may hurt our testimony.
That doesn’t mean that we should condone the sins of others, or that we should carry a load of shame over our own lapses. The point is that Jesus calls us to walk humbly and bring ALL our burdens to Him in prayer. Do I still struggle with my tongue–am I still spouting sarcastic retorts make me look smart, while putting others down? I need to submit that habit to the Lord. Does it bother me that my brother smokes or looks at porn? I should not condone such behavior, but it’s not my place to “make him” change his behavior. I should pray about it, and let him know I care about what these habits may be doing to his health and relationships. God doesn’t “hate” my neighbor who can’t seem to hold down a job, nags her husband and kids, and uses foul language– and neither should I! I shouldn’t encourage her bad behavior, but I should be willing to listen to her, show her compassion as someone Christ died to save, and offer her the same friendly helping hand I would be willing to give my other neighbors.
And I should be honest about my own limitations. God has saved me. I am His. But he didn’t save me because I had “cleaned up my act.” And he doesn’t reject me because I still don’t know all the answers or do all the “right” things. Instead, He guides me to be more like Him as I faithfully follow His ways, including confessing when I mess up. God is big enough to save me and re-shape my future in ways I can’t even imagine. I didn’t “win” my salvation. It is a gift– one that keeps on giving!
Being a Christian isn’t about acting “better” than those around us– though we should be walking in Jesus’ footsteps and living more like Him each day. It can be difficult, as the rest of the world may hold us to a higher standard. We will be judged more harshly than our neighbors who do not attempt to follow Christ. We will be accused of holding judgmental attitudes, even when we don’t display them. And we will find our standards and morals being maligned as “old-fashioned” or “snobbish” or even “hateful.” Not because they are any of those things, but because God’s standards (and anyone who agrees with them) offend those who rebel against them. And we still live in a fallen world, just like everyone else. We still wrestle with temptations, we still experience the consequences of sin– our own and others’–that make us sick, or weak, or poor, or otherwise look like “failure” to those around us. And it does no good to pretend that life isn’t sometimes difficult and painful–we’re not fooling anybody!
Instead, being a Christian is about “becoming” better than we can be without God’s Spirit living, moving, and acting THROUGH us. And a big part of that process involves “passing gas.” We need to let go of the sin and the “bad gas” that still builds up inside of us– pride, shame, stubbornness, laziness, envy, criticism, apathy, anger, bitterness, hatred, and so much more. And we need to acknowledge that our Salvation– now and through eternity– only comes through the finished work of Jesus Christ, not our own efforts. This process is called “Sanctification.” We are “saved” by Grace through Faith (see Ephesians 2:8-9). We cannot boast about having been saved. But we testify about our salvation by a changed nature, led by God’s spirit– a “new” compassion for those around us; a new delight in following God’s standards; a new humility about our own limitations, and a new joy for the way God can work through even our weaknesses to give us victory!
Ironically, passing gas is a necessary part of our bodily processes. If we don’t get rid of the “bad” gas, it will lead to bloating and actually poison us! Similarly, if we don’t acknowledge areas where we need to confess, continue in obedience, and submit our will to the Holy Spirit’s promptings, we will become bloated with our own self-importance, and poisoned by our self-deceptions.
So today, as I pass gas– as I surely will at some point– I hope that I will be convicted, and even amused, at how God uses the lowly things of this world for our benefit, and His Glory!
15 When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.” 16 Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.” 17 The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my sheep. 18 Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” 19 Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, “Follow me!”
Today is Valentine’s Day, and many people will be saying, “I love you,” or asking, “Do you love me?” And many others will reply, “Yes, I love you,” or “I love you, too!” Cards and gifts may be exchanged; some couples will dine out or have romantic candlelit dinners at home. It is a day to celebrate love. There are thousands of poems and songs about love– ooey, gooey, gushy love; unrequited love; first love; true and lasting love; even “puppy” love.
But Valentine’s Day can also be a painful reminder– of lost love, betrayal, and loneliness. The story of Peter’s betrayal and reinstatement is not a “Valentine” story of romantic love, but it carries some lessons for today about love in general, and the Love of Christ in particular.
Love is a choice– freely given and freely accepted (apologies to Elvis Presley and others who have sung about not being able to help falling in love…) When Jesus first called Peter (and in the above passage as well) He simply asked Peter to “Follow me.” He made no demands, offered no bribes, used no intimidation. There is no long list of requirements or expectations; no bargaining; no “quid pro quo.” That said, Love is not a light-hearted or whimsical thing. Peter’s choice to love Christ, and to follow him cost him his life. Christ’s choice to love us led Him to humble Himself to death, even death on the cross (Philippians 2:8). Jesus could have escaped this fate several times over– He CHOSE to die for each of us!
Love is more than just a feeling. “Follow me” demands an action and a commitment. There are many today who “love” the idea of Jesus; they love the parables, or the gospel story; they are in love with “love.” But the idea that “Love” is all you need (apologies to the Beatles) misses the mark. Feelings change; feelings are transitory and often dependent on circumstances. Love chooses to follow– even when the going gets rough; even when it is not convenient, even when it involves sacrifice.
Loving someone involves taking the risk of being hurt, denied, or betrayed. There is no Biblical passage describing the amount of hurt Jesus must have felt when Peter denied Him three times, or when Judas betrayed Him. The Biblical account tells us that Jesus already knew and predicted these two events, but how agonizing–every bit as painful as the nails in His hands and feet! Jesus loved those who spit at Him, abandoned Him, condemned Him, and persecuted Him. And we also see Peter in this passage being hurt at Jesus’ questioning him a third time; Peter was shocked and hurt when Jesus predicted his denial, and when Jesus said to him, “Get behind me, Satan.”(Matthew 16:23) Love is never free from risk– especially the imperfect love we have as humans.
Love leads to restoration and forgiveness. Peter’s denial of Christ could have haunted him for the rest of his life. Had Jesus said nothing; done nothing to address this hurt, it would not have changed the fact that Peter was forgiven. But in publicly restoring Peter, Jesus made it clear that it was “all good” between them– Peter wasn’t just conditionally forgiven, he was completely restored!
Love is stronger than death! It is stronger than sin, or betrayal, denial, or hurt. Love is eternal and limitless, everlasting, and enduring. God IS Love and to know God is to know love. To speak to God and to hear His voice and read His Word is to converse with Love. Whether in the presence of saints on a mountaintop, in the midst of a raging storm, or on a quiet beach– Love is closer than our next breath, and more powerful than our deepest fear. Love never fails (1 Corinthians 13: 8)
The other day, as I was doing a Bible study on the Women of the Bible (Spangler and Syswerda, Zondervan Press, 2007), I was reading about Lot’s wife. The story is found in Genesis 19. Lot and his family were living in the wicked city of Sodom, which the Lord was getting ready to destroy. Abraham, knowing his nephew and family could face destruction, had pleaded with the Lord. God had promised that if He found even 10 righteous people in the city, He would not destroy it. But the men of the city came in a mob and tried to rape the angels of God. Only Lot tried to prevent this crime, and even offered his daughters as a substitute for the angels! No other righteous people were found. The doom of Sodom was at hand.
The Angels led Lot, his wife, and his two daughters out of the city toward the small town of Zoar. In fact, they had to take them by the hands and physically drag them away from the coming disaster. They warned the entire family to flee– take nothing with them, and don’t look back! But Lot’s wife did look back, and she was turned into a pillar of salt. In one split-second of weakness, she lost her life and her future, and left her family to unravel (see later chapters in Genesis).
I remember hearing this story as a child, and one question has always nagged at me. Why a pillar of salt?
Have you ever wondered about it? What is it about the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah that would cause anyone to become a pillar of salt? God never does anything without a reason or a lesson to learn. So what can we learn from this?
Interestingly, the authors of the Bible study spent an entire lesson on “Salt.” They told of its importance in the Ancient World, its abundance in the Middle East, and how Jesus spoke of His disciples being the “Salt of the Earth.” (see Matthew 5:13). We are commanded to have qualities similar to salt– to cleanse, purify, and season the world around us.
And then, yesterday, we experienced some freakish winter weather. It rained. And it sleeted. And it rained some more. And the temperature hovered just at the freezing point, causing a layer of ice to form over the roads, sidewalks, trees, power lines, cars, etc. Ice was everywhere, and I was out spreading –you guessed it– salt. Salt melts the ice that covers walkways and roads, making it safer to walk or drive.
But here’s the thing about salt. It only works when it is spread around and used. It does no good to put a pillar of salt in the middle of a highway, or on the kitchen table. A pillar of salt can make an interesting decoration, but it’s real worth is in its usefulness, and in its interaction with other elements. We don’t eat salt by itself. We use it to flavor other foods– we sprinkle it, we rub it in, we dissolve it– we don’t appreciate salt unless it works WITH something else. We use it WITH ice, to melt it off of the sidewalk. We use it ON raw meat to cure it and preserve it. We use it IN water to clean or soften items.
Lot’s wife was a pillar of salt. She had worth and value; she had a family that was being preserved to be a witness of God’s Grace and Redemption. But she turned away from God’s protection and His provision. Her value was trapped by her moment of rebellion, or curiosity– whatever caused her to look back.
How are we being salt in the world today? Are we being used to season the world around us? To help spread health, and purity, and life? Are we helping to melt icy hearts and soften hard hearts we meet? Are we willing to be spilled and spread and rubbed in to situations not of our choosing? Or are we standing as pillars of useless potential?
I pray that I will learn from the story of Lot’s wife. A new lesson. A new sense of purpose today. I hope you will be encouraged, as well. Let’s go out and “shake” things up in our world today!
Today in America, we celebrate the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr. King was a minister, a brilliant writer and student of theology, a leader in the Civil Rights movement of the late 1950s and early 1960s, a noted speaker, and man who arguably made a difference in the world. Dr. King was murdered in 1968, at the age of only 39, leaving a family and a nation devastated by his loss.
Next Monday, we will observe the 51st anniversary of the Supreme Court decision Roe v Wade, in which nine judges effectively legalized abortion in the U.S. for over half a century. Even though this decision has been overturned, many states, using the precedent of Roe v Wade, have changed their state laws to allow for abortion. In many states, it is now legal to abort a child right up to the moment of birth!
What is the value of a single life? Who gets to decide that they have the right to take another person’s life– whether by assassination, capital punishment, abortion, murder, or euthanasia?
It is a question that our society has struggled with for centuries. Who can give life? Who can take life? Who can determine the conditions of another person’s existence? And, for those who live, what is the “value” of their life–to their family, to their neighborhood, to their nation, or to history? Who gets to set the standard of what constitutes a “worthwhile” life or the “quality” of life for someone else? For themselves?
I’ve been reading through the book of Genesis this month, and, according to the Bible, this subject is as old as human life on earth. Cain decided that Abel’s life was expendable, so he killed him– the first murder. The people of Sodom and Gomorrah felt they had the right to enslave and rape anyone they wanted to. Joseph’s brothers plotted to kill him, before selling him into slavery, instead.
The Bible doesn’t hide this history, nor does it sugar-coat the actions of those featured in its pages. But, the Bible offers us a clear picture of WHO gives life, and WHO has the authority to decide what life is worth. God alone has this authority. It is God alone who can create and sustain life. Mankind has the choice– to protect life or destroy it; to treat life with respect or with disdain; to honor the Giver of Life, or to rebel against Him.
All the atrocities of the Old Testament lead to the ultimate decision on the value of a single life. Jesus lived a simple, ordinary human life. He lived with compassion, with purpose, and with humility. And He was willing to GIVE His life to atone for all the murders, all the abortions, all the slavery, all the injustices in history, so that WE could enjoy abundant, eternal life with Him. By looking to this singular life, and trusting in the power of His death and resurrection, we can choose to honor all life. We can make a difference. We can live with purpose and joy.
Dr. King’s legacy is one of honoring life, and pointing out the evils of those who seek to devalue the lives of others based on the color of their skin. Abortion’s legacy is one of destroying life, and promoting those who devalue the rights of the helpless.
The choice is still before us. How will we determine the value of a single life in the coming week? How will be add value to life on earth? How will we live for more than just the moment?
How much is that doggie in the window? The one with the “waggly” tail… How much is that doggie in the window? I do hope that doggie’s for sale!
Two songs about puppies–how could that possibly relate to a life of pursuing prayer? Well, I’m going out on a limb, but let me try to connect the dots.
“If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish.’ Or what king, going out to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and deliberate whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks for terms of peace. So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple”
Luke 14:26-33
33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Matthew 6:33-34 (NIV)
22 But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. 23 For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror; 24 for he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of man he was. 25 But he who looks into the perfect law of liberty and continues in it, and is not a forgetful hearer but a doer of the work, this one will be blessed in what he does.
James 1:22-25 (NKJV)
Children love puppies. Most children have expressed desires similar to the ones in both of the songs above. They wish and dream and beg for a pet to love; a furry “best buddy” to play with and befriend. There is a longing deep in our hearts for someone to understand; someone who is always ready to greet us with unconditional love and companionship. And sometimes, we have a tendency to take this desire–this wish– and see in our relationship with Christ its fulfillment. Christ is the our “forever” friend; someone we can talk to; someone who will share our burdens, and walk along with us “most everywhere.” This is not “wrong.” But Jesus warned His listeners that becoming a disciple would involve more than just dreams, wishes, and good feelings.
Following Christ comes with a cost– we cannot just wish for God’s presence when it is convenient and jolly, and escape or turn our backs when our Christian Walk involves sacrifice or hardship. Jesus is not just our Friend; He is our Lord! We need to be ready to let go of anything that would hinder our relationship with Him; we need to be willing to risk and even lose things we love in the pursuit of the One we Love Best. After all, Jesus gave up everything– including His Life– to make our relationship and reconciliation possible.
Jesus challenged His followers to “count the cost” of their discipleship. It’s more than just wanting a “fuzzy feeling” of belonging and listening to the Wisdom of God. It’s committing to a life of growth, work, and submission to His Will and His Purposes. A child may want a puppy, but may not be mature or responsible enough to care for it. We may want a relationship with Christ, but we need to measure our willingness to do His Will and make changes and sacrifices. And when we count the cost, we also need to assess the value of what we are gaining! We may “lose” the life we dream about, filled with warm puppies and cloudless days. But we will gain eternal life in the Presence of the one who created the clouds and puppies, as well as the one who fashioned our very soul. Christ gave up His life so that we could experience a more abundant life. Not an easier or dreamier life, but a life with purpose and victory.
The Christian Walk is far more than just “dreams and wishes.” It is more than just asking about the initial price– because that is far beyond what we could ever pay! Redemption and Eternal Life are beyond any price. But they are also free! The cost of our Salvation has already been paid. The cost of our sanctification– our growth and maturity– is what we need to consider as we walk forward.
And the joy we will experience on this journey is greater than the joy of having a puppy–greater than the fulfillment of all our dreams and wishes–it is nothing less than the Glory of Eternity in the Presence of the One who truly loves us perfectly and unconditionally! That is worth the pursuit. That is worth EVERYTHING.
Christmas is so much bigger than just us. That struck me afresh as I was listening to Christmas Carols earlier this week. It is more than just preparing our individual hearts, as crucial as that is, to accept the wonder and miracle that the God of the Universe would empty Himself of all His Royal Prerogative; all His Glory, to become, not just a human being, but a baby! To grow up among His flawed and rebellious creation; to know hunger and exhaustion; to wait in lines, to obey His “elders.”
His coming was not just a quiet birth in the night– though it was that, too. Such a paradox. His birth split the heavens, and divided all time into “before” and “after.” And yet, it went unnoticed by so many people crowded into Bethlehem that night. People living outside of Judea had no idea (other than some wise men from the East) that their King and Savior; their Creator and Redeemer, had just burst into history and humanity with a tiny mewling cry and covered in placenta.
But the Heavens knew! Angels marveled and shouted His Praise! Rocks and hills thrummed with the joy of it. The oceans may have danced, mountains skipped, trees cheered, frosty air molecules jumped up and down, and the stars– the suns of millions of galaxies– laughed in delight! For this was Their Savior, too! Jesus came to redeem all of creation–to fulfill God’s perfect plan!
How can this be? After all, we still have earthquakes and tidal waves; we still have forest fires and smog. Nature is still unpredictable and untamed. And yet, Christ’s coming was the sign that the “groaning” of all creation would certainly come to an end. The promise was true! The Hope of Heaven, the Light of the World, the Word of God, was HERE. Living ON the earth. Able to climb a tree, step into (or walk on top of) the water, breathe the scent of flowers, and look up at all the stars He Himself had placed in the reaches of space. Able to enjoy– as He meant for US to enjoy– all the bounty of the Earth.
And this same Savior has prepared another place– one that is already perfect and needs no redemption, no taming or saving or reclaiming–for those who put their Trust in Him. This tiny Babe, held in the arms of an ordinary girl in a grubby little stable in a tiny corner of the world He holds in His own arms. He is Lord of ALL Nature– that we can see on the Earth, and that which awaits us in a New Heaven and a New Earth!
Christmas is bigger than you and I. It is bigger than our lights and traditions. It is bigger than all of history. Bigger than the night sky; bigger than all we can imagine or dream. Because Christmas is the Advent of Christ– the one who encompasses everything. Let ALL Heaven and Nature Sing! Let the Angels announce His Glory! And let us Repeat the sounding JOY!
Father, I marvel at your Creation. I marvel at your desire to enter into it; to teach us how to have Joy in our journey through it. And I bow in Awe that You would include me in the bigger picture of eternity. Help me to carry this marvel into each moment, as I seek to Honor You and Enjoy the Wonder of Your Nature– both Your Creation, and Your Character! Amen!
Christmas is a time of joy and light. But the time of Advent is often a time of somber reflection. We remember a time we have never known– a time before the coming of Christ the Messiah– a time before the mysteries of Heaven were revealed and before the victory of Salvation was accomplished. Advent reminds us of the spiritual darkness that existed before God, in human form, in humble obedience, and in sacrificial love, became the Light of the World, and the Hope of All Nations.
Before the bells rang, and the angels sang; before the kings brought gold and the shepherds ran to tell the news; before there were Christmas Carols, Christmas decorations, or Christmas pageants– there was solemn silence, fear, dread, and waiting. God had been silent. The prophets had been silent. The world had grown hard and cold.
Jesus stepped out of the unfathomable glory of the Highest Heaven– surrounded by armies of angels all worshiping Him and ready to do His bidding. In an instant, He became a helpless fetus inside a helpless young woman, a subject of the Roman Empire, and at the mercy of her culture. Her fiance could have repudiated her; her parents could have disowned her; her community could have had her stoned to death, along with her unborn child. No one, even those who were anticipating the arrival of a Christ, was expecting this tiny baby growing inside the womb to change the course of history.
He was born in obscurity, in ignominious squalor. He was the Lord of All Creation, wrapped in rags and laid in a feeding trough in an overcrowded city at tax time. There were no bells or carolers, no glittering trees or festivals of lights, no sounds of joy and celebration– not in that manger in Bethlehem. Instead, there were strangers pushing and shoving, shouting, and snoring in the inns and houses and streets, being watched by soldiers and pickpockets alike, as they made their way through narrow, unfamiliar streets and tried to lock out the worry and danger and dread. There may have been silence in the fields and valleys outside of town, but not near the stable where Jesus was born. No. The “silence” we sing about during Advent is the silence inside our own hearts– a call to “be still,” and know that this baby we celebrate is God Incarnate. He is the One to whom every knee will one day bow, and every tongue confess that He is LORD.
In the stillness and silence of Advent, in the darkness lit only by candles and faint hope, we being to understand the contrast. We re-imagine what came before the joy and hope and eternal clouds of witnesses shouting, “Holy, Holy, Holy!” We remember the days and years before the angels sang, and the star danced across the night sky– before the shocking crucifixion and the glorious resurrection of this still unborn Savior.
Let us spend these days of Advent preparing our hearts for the true wonder of Christmas. It doesn’t come in the wrapped packages under a festive tree, or in the feasting with friends or family. It doesn’t come with sirens and parades, or speakers at the mall blaring out favorite tunes. It doesn’t come in the majesty of a Cathedral ringing with the voices of a choir and organ. It comes when the silence and darkness of our sin and dread are pierced with the overwhelming glory of God With Us– Emmanuel is coming! But for now, for these moments, Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence.
“O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant, O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem!”
“Come to Bethlehem and see Him whose birth the angels sing; come, adore on bended knee Christ the Lord, the new-born King.”
“O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie! Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by. Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting light; the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.”
“Come!” It echoes in our Christmas Carols; it echoes throughout Jesus’ ministry. It thrums and courses through the prophets and into the Revelations, “Amen, Come Lord Jesus!”(Revelation 22:20)
Christmas is all about coming– the coming of the Christ Child; the coming of the angels to shepherds; the coming of the shepherds to see the newborn King; the coming of the Wise Men. And we are bidden to “come” to Bethlehem and share in the joy and wonder of God coming to be our Emmanuel– God With Us.
But the journey to Bethlehem is not as easy or a joyful as one might imagine. Bethlehem is crowded. It is dark and dreary. It is not “silent” as the hymns make out. It is noisy, dirty, and filled with people who “aren’t from around here.” There is no room here. There is no joyous welcome. There is not enough to eat, what with all the out-of-town travelers; shelves are bare, while garbage is piling up in the streets. Tempers are high, and patience is low.
“Come to Bethlehem.” At this moment, Bethlehem is caught in the chaos and struggle of war. Hospitals are in danger. People live in fear and violence. There is no peace and quiet– no silent streets or glorious angels in the sky– only the light and noise of rockets. We may not be able to physically travel to Bethlehem at the moment, but we can focus our prayers on the Middle East– to the hurting people in Israel and in Gaza– to earnestly pray for truth and peace there. We may not be able to travel back in time to Bethlehem, but we can travel across town to help our neighbors who need encouragement; we can step out of our safe and comfortable lives to share light in the dark regions of today’s world. And we can “Come” to prayer– to lift up those who are hurting, to ask for strength and courage to help, to own our own limitations and emptiness.
“Come to Bethlehem.” At this season, we are tempted to stay where it is cozy and familiar; or to travel somewhere warm and welcoming. We want the joy and peace of the Christmas Season to come to us! But we are bidden to come to Bethlehem, with its crowded streets and suspicious strangers; its unfamiliar alleys and rude Roman officials. We are bidden to come and share this message of peace where there IS no peace. We are asked to come where there is need and darkness and fear– to spread the Good News, not to sit on it.
“Come to Bethlehem.” Are we avoiding our own “Bethlehem?” Are there places we could visit to spread light; places we’re being called to, or places where we should go to “be counted,” but we refuse to come? Are there people we can encourage? Ways we can share hope and help– if we are willing to come away from our own comfort and (manufactured) joy?
Perhaps we long to hear the angels shouting “Glory to God in the Highest!” (Luke 2:14) But if we won’t “come” to Bethlehem, we may miss their song. We may miss seeing the message of Christmas if we insist that it comes to our pleasant palace, instead of seeking the Babe in the Manger of the Little Town of Bethlehem.
“Come to Bethlehem and See.” “Come, Let us Adore Him!” “Come!”
‘Tis the season for Christmas Music– hymns and carols, ancient songs and modern tunes celebrating the Advent and Birth of the Lord Jesus. Joyful, passionate, somber, or even a bit silly, such music can lighten our spirits, and remind us of the incredible gift of God– Emmanuel–His very presence among mankind.
Christmas lyrics often use wonderful imagery to retell this amazing story. The Bible accounts tell of shepherds, angels, wise men, and stars– the songs give us the immediacy of a dark night– “silent”, “still”, “earth as hard as iron; water like a stone”, “a midnight clear”, “half-spent was the night”…
Most of us live in a world that rarely gets so dark. If we live in a town or city, we are surrounded by street lights, security lights, even night-lights in the hallway. Even so, we have a feeling for how the midnight and early morning hours seem darker, colder, quieter, and more dreary than any other time. And there is a significance in remembering that Jesus came to earth in the midst of literal and metaphorical darkness, “when half-spent was the night.”
God is Omnipresent– it is not as though God leaves us when all is merry and bright– but His presence is often most keenly sought, and unexpectedly found, in darkness and distress. When all seems bleak, cold, and hopeless, Jesus comes silently, small and fragile as a baby, bringing light, hope, joy, and peace. He comes when the night is “half-spent”– when the darkness is deepest, the silence weighs heaviest, and the cold is most bitter; when hope and light seem lost.
Jesus’ Advent came after four hundred hears of silence. Prophets, such as Isaiah, Zechariah, and Micah, had spoken of Messiah rescuing Israel from captivity. But the years had passed, and Rome ruled the Jewish people with an iron fist. God had stayed silent, and hope seemed remote. Rome would continue to rule the world for another four hundred years. But when Messiah arrived, He didn’t come to break the power of Rome. He didn’t come at the end of that particular “night”; rather, He came when the night was “half-spent.” He came gently, quietly, and humbly. He came to deliver Israel from something much darker, colder, and deadlier than a foreign occupation. Jesus, through His life and death and resurrection, came to deliver Israel, and the rest of the world, from the power of sin and death.
All the promise of deliverance and salvation that came in the middle of that bleak night so long ago, remains for us to celebrate– even in the middle of our “half-spent” nights.
We may not see the dawn in the middle of our struggles. We may not hear the angels singing or feel the warmth of the new day coming. But because of this “Rose e’er Blooming”, we can rejoice. We can find hope and peace in the present night, knowing that Emmanuel is with us! Like a lamp in the night, He will stay with us as we travel through the present darkness. After all, “Thy WORD is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.” (Psalm 119:105) Jesus is the Living Word of God, and thus, our living light!
Pursuing Prayer 