So often when I pray, I do so in isolation, and I think of it as a solitary activity. I am communicating with God– often silently–it is a private conversation. Or is it?
At any given moment on any given day, millions of prayers are ascending to Heaven. Consider the arithmetic of prayer– millions of prayers, millions of pray-ers, and God is part of each one–twice the number of participants. But God is triune– so now there are four participants in every “personal” prayer, and four participants for every one in a group prayer! It’s mind-blowing to think of all the spiritual investment that is happening through prayer at this very instant around the world. And in heaven? Our prayers ascend; God likens our prayers to incense– a pleasing aroma. If I light a scented candle, or burn incense, the aroma is not personal– it permeates the air, penetrates my clothing, clings to my hair, lingers and touches on all who are nearby. This doesn’t diminish the intimacy of prayer, but transcends it, and transforms it. God is relational– from the intimacy of private prayer to the glory of his kingdom– he wants us to belong, to share, and to love. Love doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It is not a solitary activity, nor one in which anyone is “just a number.”
I think we are often deceived and intimidated by numbers and statistics. We sometimes feel very small and powerless and alone. We measure our prayers by their duration or the number of our words, or how small our perceived influence. We pray alone or in a tiny group, or seem to get swallowed in a crowd, and we think our prayers travel a linear path to God’s ears and they are ended. May our eyes be opened to the reality that we are never alone, never helpless, and never unimportant to God–that our prayers, like incense, linger, radiate, and echo as they ascend.
God uses the small and humble things in life to confound those who think they are wise and powerful and important. He is the God who changes our suffering into sufficiency, and our abiding into abundance. He multiplies our faith, and increases our joy; he divides our sorrows and cancels out our sin. He hears our every sigh. He dries our every tear. He knows our every thought. He inhabits the praises of his people– let that sink in as we pray today.
“There is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Immanuel’s veins; And sinners plunged beneath that flood Lose all their guilty stains.” William Cowper
I love old hymns. So often, they express Biblical truths in simple purity, or in soaring poetry, that captures both the imagination and the memory.
Recently, I was listening to a radio broadcast of a sermon about mercy. It was a wonderful sermon, and the pastor talked about the richness and wideness of God’s mercy and lovingkindness in various situations– when we face injustice, pain, loss and grieving, guilt, and even when we are unaware of it throughout our life (Psalm 139:16-17) From the womb to the tomb, we live in the Mercy of God– God extends His Mercy and Grace for as long as we are alive to call out for it, accept it, and receive it. More than that, His Mercy and Lovingkindness endures forever (Psalm 136).
Later that day, I was doing housework– I had dirty dishes to wash and laundry to do. And there were stains! I have plastic dishes that I used to heat up leftovers in the microwave, and some of those leftovers had tomato-based sauce or cinnamon or turmeric. The dishes have a film of red or brown or yellow that didn’t come out, even when I washed and soaked them. A few of the stains will eventually fade away, but some of them will never come out. I also have clothes that are stained. David and I still wear them around the house, but there are paint stains, ink stains, oily stains, and mustard stains that didn’t come out the first time I washed (or the second or third time!)
As humans, we all have stains of one type or another. We try to hide them; we try to scrub them; we try to cover them up. Some of our stains are external and visible– scars or blemishes, imperfections and disabilities, worn or tattered “second-hand” clothes, missing teeth, poor posture, obesity, being “too” short or tall–things that people notice right away. Other stains are deep inside– guilt, shame, fear, anger, hatred, bigotry, envy, arrogance, hopelessness, depression, broken-heartedness, loneliness– we try to hide them by isolating, covering up, pretending that all is well, or denying the extent of our brokenness.
I was touched by the sermon about how God’s Mercy reaches us in all of these circumstances. The Bible is full of examples of God’s Mercy and its transforming power. But the words of this old hymn came to my mind, and a deeper realization swelled as I sang them quietly in my own heart: “And sinners plunged beneath that flood LOSE ALL THEIR GUILTY STAINS!”
I spend time washing and scrubbing at stains– silly mistakes, accidents, upsets– and even if I am successful, I can often point out where the stains were or find the last vestiges of them on an old shirt or a white plastic bowl. But I don’t “LOSE” stains. I don’t have the power to make stains totally disappear– especially stubborn ones like ink and oil. But the stains I worry about most– guilt, pain from my past, worry about how others might judge me– these stains are all in my doubting mind. In God’s Mercy, THEY DON’T EXIST! That doesn’t mean that others WON’T still judge me, or that I won’t still remember old hurts. But God WON’T! Their power is broken. God has removed them as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12-14)
Sin leaves stains in our lives– even if the sin wasn’t ours to begin with. That person who bullied me in third grade– that left a stain. The way I reacted– that probably left a stain, too. When I nearly died as an infant– that wasn’t my sin, or even my parent’ sin. But it left a stain because I was born into a world where we have disease, defects, and disasters. I have Diabetes. Part of that “stain” can be blamed on things I ate, and lifestyle choices I made. Part of that is genetic. There are people who live with abuse, injustice, chronic pain, and lasting heartaches. And God’s Mercy didn’t stop any of that from staining their lives.
But the “fountain…drawn from Immanuel’s veins” is powerful enough, and God’s Mercy is amazing enough to make those stains disappear. In this life, I still have to deal with diabetes, fatigue, misunderstandings, and my own sinful lapses. People still struggle with cancer, poverty, war, and doubt. But the stains won’t follow Christians into eternity. There won’t be any vestiges of uncleanness; there won’t be any memory of the hurts and losses we suffered during this lifetime. Christ’s blood is powerful enough, and His Mercy vast enough to make the effects of sin DISAPPEAR!
Our country has recently weathered (pun intended!) two major hurricanes which caused devastation and chaos. It seems like an unlikely connection, but I was thinking the other day about the movie, “Forrest Gump.” In it, a bitter, beaten, and angry character begins arguing with God– in the midst of a hurricane!
“Lieutenant Dan” was an able soldier, fighting in Vietnam and in charge of a small unit, which included the simple-minded Forrest Gump. When their unit was ambushed, Dan was badly injured and lost the use of his legs. Meanwhile, Forrest Gump received only a small flesh wound, and managed to save several of his fellow soldiers, receiving a medal for bravery. One of the soldiers rescued by Forrest, Dan resented his situation– disabled and ignored– while Forrest went on to become successful and celebrated.
Worse, in the years after the war, Forrest found Dan, homeless and dejected, and offered him a job and a home– on his shrimping boat. Forrest knew next to nothing about shrimping, and Dan, torn between bitterness and gratitude, gave Forrest a hard time. Dan’s life had gone nowhere, and Forrest seemed to dodge every bullet (literally), finding success in spite of his naivete and seemingly stupid choices.
It is a very relatable situation. We all know someone who seems to sail through life, while others seem to have nothing but bad luck and hardship. The class clown who ends up “making it big”– they spend money like it’s going out of style, and yet it keeps flooding in, seemingly without any effort. The neighbor who loses his job, and then his house catches on fire. And that person whose entire life seems to be lived under a cloud of misery and bitterness.
Gary Sinise as “Lieutenant Dan” in the movie Forrest Gump.
When the two men find themselves in the middle of a hurricane, Dan can take it no longer. He lashes out– not at Forrest this time, but at God. How could a loving God allow Dan to go through trial after trial– the loss of his legs and so many of the men under his command, the loss of his dignity and productivity, the loss of his independence, and now, another deadly situation beyond his control. He yells at God–“Come and get me!” He challenges God to just kill him; just finish him off–or leave him alone.
But God is silent– and soon, so is the hurricane. Forrest and Dan have survived. In fact, Forrest’s decision to be out of the harbor means their boat is the only one to survive–suddenly, they can’t catch the shrimp fast enough! Forrest becomes a millionaire and hires a fleet of fishing boats. But what about Dan?
Somewhere in the middle of the storm, Dan’s heart is pierced by a simple and life-changing thought. God has not been the one “ruining” Dan’s life– He is the one who has been preserving it! God brought him through war, disability, injustice, loneliness, frustration, and the raging sea. God was not a cosmic bully. God was not singling out Dan for punishment– after all, thousands of others had been wounded and killed in the war; millions of people knew what it was like to be hungry, homeless, and lonely; and hundreds had been devastated by the hurricane– even while they were safely evacuated or hunkered down on land. Forrest had not dodged every “bullet.” He had lost his best friend in battle; he had been rejected (time after time) by the woman he loved; he had been teased, bullied, and cheated dozens of times, and he had been tossed about by the same waves and winds Dan had survived. Dan ends up leaving Forrest, and setting off on his own, having found a peace that transcends his pain and bitterness. He swims off with a smile, leaving behind the opportunity to remain with Forrest and make millions.
Arguing with the Almighty is very tempting when we face difficult circumstances– and when we focus on our own lot, and not on the bigger picture. God is bigger than any of the troubles we face. And He is not unaware or unconcerned about whatever we are going through. Just as Lieutenant Dan challenged God, the biblical character of Job challenged God to vindicate him as he went through trials and pain. God finally answered, and Job realized that God was far bigger than anything Job had ever known or experienced. And in the end, God restored Job– giving him a new family, and even more material wealth than he had before!
Sometimes, God allows us to go through periods of pain and struggle– not because He is punishing us or because He is a tyrant, but because He is more interested in our ultimate salvation than He is in our immediate comfort. We moan and complain that God “doesn’t want us to be happy,” as if our momentary happiness is more important than our character development, than the happiness of those around us, or than God’s design for the world.
Near the end of the movie, Lieutenant Dan visits Forrest. He is transformed. No longer angry and bitter, he is quiet, self-assured, and standing! He has “new legs” made of titanium, and he has found joy, love, and success of his own.
Of course, many of us, regardless of our situations, have tried arguing with God at certain times of our lives. The loss of a loved one; the breakup of a marriage; a diagnosis of cancer; a miscarriage of justice and the loss of a reputation– it is natural to be angry, hurt, and confused. And God is more than big enough to “take it” when we ask “WHY?!!” But we will never “win” such arguments– not because God is a tyrant who won’t let us have what we want– but because God is GOD, and we are not. He alone knows how our story ends, and what trials– and blessings– await us. He alone knows what is “right” in the scope of eternity– not just for us, but for our loved ones, our neighbors, our nation, and our times. God can see that we get, not just “new legs,” but a new heart, and a new mind!
Hurricanes happen– so do hurts and hurdles. We can choose to see God’s hand–and believe that it is raised in anger, or reaching out to hold us. That choice is yours. That choice is mine. Every day.
Anywhere! Anywhere! Fear I cannot know; Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go!
I was reading in the Psalms the other day, and I fell on one of my favorites, Psalm 139:
O Lord, you have searched me and known me! 2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. 3 You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. 4 Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. 5 You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. 6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it.
7 Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? 8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! 9 If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, 10 even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. 11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” 12 even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.
Psalm 139: 1-12 (ESV)
This portion of the Psalm speaks of God’s Omnipresence. But often, when I read it, I read it from a negative viewpoint. It speaks of hiding from the Lord…it is impossible to escape the Lord’s presence and His omnipotence. I cannot hide my thoughts or deeds or feelings from God’s all-seeing, all-knowing presence. And this is a good thing in the end. But what about when I am not trying to escape from God, but some other threat– guilt, pain, heartbreak, or even death?
God’s omnipresence is also a metaphysical reality in a very positive sense. I cannot stray outside of God’s presence. He will not remove it from me; He will not hide from me. He will never send me into ANY situation where He is NOT already there, and where He will NOT be with me.
I know this. But I needed a reminder today. God will be with me on my best days, and on my worst. He will be with me in sickness or depression, or celebration and strength. He will be with me whether I am “alone” or surrounded by strangers. He will be with me in the darkness where I can’t see anything, as well as in the blinding bright lights of an operating room, or the eerie haze of a foggy morning.
Wherever I am, God is figuratively holding my hand; He is hemming me in all around. I am protected and supported by His Almighty Right Hand. When I am tempted to doubt– He is there! When I am distracted by the din of other voices– He is there! When I have turned my back on Him– He is STILL there; waiting for me to turn back!
I don’t know where I will have to go today. It may be to the grocery store; it may be halfway across the world…I may be called to do unexpected things, to go in an unexpected direction, to turn a frightening corner or face an unknown foe. But I can go anywhere with confidence– not in MY wisdom or abilities or strength– God is WITH me. God goes BEFORE me and BEHIND me. God is OVER me and UNDER me, and all AROUND me.
Recently, there was a news story about a submarine with passengers who were going to visit the wreck of the Titanic. Tragically, the submarine failed and their lives were lost. Just like the passengers over 100 years earlier, they were far from any human help. But God was there. I don’t know if any of the passengers were believers, but if they were, they could face their last earthly hours in confidence and peace that passes human understanding– God was there. Even though their bodies were not saved from this tragedy, their spirits were never out of God’s reach; their hearts were never lost to God’s loving gaze.
May we rest in that assurance today. There is no place on Earth– or in or over or under the Earth!– where God does not watch over us. The going may not be pleasant. It may be dangerous or even deadly. But we– our soul; our spirit– can go anywhere without fear. We can face the transition from life to death with calm assurance. We can face the empty threats of Death and the Grave without flinching. We can face our fears, and defeat them, when we trust that God’s presence in constant and completely sufficient.
In the Dr. Seuss classic, “How the Grinch Stole Christmas!,” the bitter and devious Grinch tries to “steal” Christmas from the village of Whoville. He steals all the things the Whos of the village seem to need in order to celebrate a holiday he hates. He hates their gift exchanges, their feasting, their singing, and their general happiness, all of which serve to remind him of his own loneliness and gloom.
With mounting glee, the Grinch proceeds to pile up his hoard of goodies– presents, decorations, food, anything that could serve to make the holiday cheery and bright. He loads up all his stolen loot and takes it to the top of a mountain, where he plans to dump it. But first, he stops to savor the shock and pain he expects to hear as the Whos discover that their holiday has been ruined. He waits in the cold of a clear dawn to hear wailing and lamenting, but the sound he hears instead is singing…the Whos have come together to sing a hymn of gratitude and peace. There is no lamenting; there is no distress. Instead there is a peaceful acceptance that the new day has brought joy and goodwill that has nothing to do with all the trappings of celebration.
He hadn’t stopped Christmas from coming. It came! Somehow or other it came just the same. And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, Stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore. Thenthe Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.
The first Christmas came without any of the festive trappings we’ve added over the years. There were no groups of cheery carolers; no jingle bells and tinsel; no greeting cards or candy canes. Jesus came in the dead of night, in the midst of chaos and terror, as people were groaning under the oppression of an invading empire, being forced to travel long distances to be counted and taxed by their oppressors. There were no Christmas parties, no brightly decorated trees, no stockings filled with treats, no cookies and cocoa on a cold night. The gifts would come later– and they would be followed by death threats and exile! But Jesus came! He came just the same!
This year, Christmas will come– with or without ribbons or tags. Christmas will come to those who are homeless, and those who are lonely in palaces and mansions. Christmas will come in spite of efforts to erase the holiday from our culture. It will come just like the dawn of each new day– quiet in its wonder and glorious in its simplicity. Christmas doesn’t come wrapped in shiny paper or announced with blaring horns and neon lights. Christmas comes just as Christ came so many years ago–wrapped in rags, laid in a straw bed on a cold, dark night; announced to simple people going about their business, signaled by a single star ignored by most, wondered at by others. Christmas will seep into the hearts and eyes of those with child-like faith and willing to sing when things are darkest.
God chooses to come in simplicity– He creeps like the dawning day; He sighs like a gentle breeze; He comes as a harmless infant, or a wandering teacher and healer. And when our Christmas Day comes without ribbons and boxes or feasting and lights– it will come just the same. Christ will enter darkened hotel rooms and alleys, He will sit beside hospital beds and in makeshift refugee shelters. He will sneak into homes where Christians huddle in secret, and He will knock gently on the doors of the lonely and the lost. Because Christmas DOESN’T come from a store. It doesn’t come from our bounty and our glittering decorations. It comes from the heart– the heart of God, who SO loved the world, that He came! And He will come this year, just the same!
I attend a mid-week prayer meeting. Sometimes we have a dozen or two in attendance. The other day, we had just five. But God shows up every week! There is a mystical, spiritual quality in communal prayer– voices raised in praise, thanksgiving, and intercession; voices raised in agreement, in harmony, and in support. We spend nearly an hour in prayer; some stay after to pray longer, some stay silent for most or all of the hour, just listening and giving spiritual support by their presence. We also spend some time reading scripture, sharing updates on missionaries and community outreach programs, or updates on requests from previous weeks. And, in listening to others pray, we can “hear” their hearts and get to know them a little better. But this is not meant as a social hour. We are there for one purpose– to pray. It is a commitment to pray faithfully, to pray consistently, and to pray humbly and gratefully.
We are blessed to have the opportunity to gather publicly and freely to pray. But what about those who cannot? Not everyone has the freedom in their weekly schedule to attend our prayer meeting (or other meetings that might be scheduled throughout the community). Not everyone lives in an area where public prayer is safe and encouraged. Some people are shut in. Some face persecution for their faith– public gatherings increase the risk of violence and arrest.
Most prayers happen in seclusion and isolation. And sometimes, this can lead us to believe that personal prayer is a small thing. One silent prayer in a room somewhere in Michigan may seem tiny and frail. It can seem puny and ineffective. And praying in isolation or under threat can feel even smaller and lonelier. We trust that God hears us, but we can feel so weak, so ineffectual. We long for support and communion. Praying in a group “feels” stronger, and more “important,” surrounded by fellow believers and hearing the voices chiming in with praise and heartfelt requests.
I value and appreciate meeting and praying with other believers, but most of my prayers are personal– said in silence in my own home. I pray by myself, often with my Prayer Journal in front of me; sometimes, just lying in bed, or sitting at my workspace. Yet, I never pray alone! Jesus, in The Lord’s Prayer, taught His disciples to pray to “Our Father.” But He must have known that they would also pray personal prayers. He did not teach them to say “My Father,” or “My God.” Surely, when we are alone, we can use those terms (as Jesus Himself did in the Garden of Gethsemane). But I think Jesus was acknowledging that God “inhabits the praise of His people” (Psalm 22:3)– and that when we pray, we are mystically and spiritually joined with God– Father, Son, and Spirit– and also with the family of other believers. And their prayers join with ours. When I pray, alone in a darkened room or closet, I may be physically separated from believers in Pakistan or Colombia, but I am spiritually linked with them (and they with me) in ways I don’t fully comprehend. I can’t hear their prayers; I can’t understand their language, and I don’t know their needs. Nor do they know mine. But God knows them all, and knits them all together in ways that bring Glory and Honor to Him! Praying with our Wednesday group (or any time I pray with other believers) helps me better feel this connection, but it goes beyond what we experience in corporate prayer. None of my “puny” prayers is lost in the fugue of a hundred thousand other prayers prayed in that moment– instead, they blend in with other silent cries and unspoken expressions of praise from all over the globe. They rise up like the notes of a never-ending symphony!
Prayer is so much more powerful and deeper than we imagine! Today, let’s pray–together–knowing that whatever our situation or circumstance, we will never pray alone!
Often, when I pray for those who are in pain or grief, I will ask, “God, BE WITH…” This is a natural desire, but in one sense, it is also superfluous. God is always with us; always present, no matter our circumstances.
So when I ask God to “be with” someone, I am not really asking that He stop whatever else He is doing and go to that person. He is already there. I’m not asking Him to become aware of their heartache or suffering; He already knows. I’m not asking that He do something new or different from His will or His plan. What I am asking is that His presence would be revealed in and through the situation– that my friend or loved one (or stranger whose needs have been brought to my attention) would have a supernatural sense of God’s abiding, powerful, compassion and grace.
Intellectually, I can know that God is omnipresent and omniscient. I “know” that God is always with me. The Bible is filled with God’s promises to “be with” His people. (See https://www.biblestudytools.com/bible-study/topical-studies/beautiful-verses-to-remind-you-that-god-is-with-us.html) But I also know, emotionally and experientially, that I don’t always feel His presence. I have moments of doubt and despair– I think all of us do. That’s part of the curse of Sin–being separated from the awareness of God’s continual presence. Even Jesus, as He was dying, felt the awful anguish of being separated from the Father, crying out, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34)
God promises each believer that He (through His Holy Spirit) will dwell with us. He will “abide” with us. But just like living with a spouse and other members of a family, there are times when His presence seems to be in another room; and we feel alone. There may be many reasons for this– sometimes, it is because we have walked away, or turned our face away. But at other times, we long for that closeness, that awareness that God is right beside us, only to feel that He is far away. As strong as that feeling may be, we need to remember that it is NOT the reality. God still abides with us. He is still present, even if He is silent.
So, when I know that feeling, or when I know someone else is going through that feeling, I pray, not that God will come to us, or come back from being away, but that our awareness of God’s presence and closeness will be deepened or reignited.
Someday, I won’t have to pray that prayer. Someday, and for all eternity, we will be surrounded by God’s Glorious Presence. But in this fallen world, what a privilege and hope to be able to pray to a God that abides with us!
There is a website, On This Day, that can tell you an interesting or important fact about something that happened on any day of the year throughout history.
Of course, this site only gives you certain facts from certain years and in certain areas of interest. So its focus is limited to one or two events per day from random years. Sometimes, the dates and facts are important events in world history; other times, they are trivial but interesting details about a sporting match, or a film star.
I don’t have to consult On This Day today. Something very personal, very important, and very tragic happened on September 1, 1998. My father died. I watched him take his last ragged breath in a hospital bed. I held his hand moments before he died, and I wept with my mother and sister as we tried to take in the great loss. There are many days that are etched into my memory– birth days, death days, graduation days, wedding days–that will never make the pages of history books or web sites. There are other days, “ordinary” days, that pass me by without reference to any memories at all. Many days that mean little to me fill others with joy or pain.
Yet each day is a gift from God to each one of us. My 24 hours today will be different from yours. Somewhere, this day will be a new beginning of life– elsewhere, it will be someone’s last day. Small things will happen on this day– a cheerful greeting, a burnt slice of toast, shared laughter with a friend, a hug, a stubbed toe–things we won’t remember tomorrow, or things we won’t value in the moments when they happen. Big things will happen, too–joyous occasions and tragic events that may shake families, communities, or even the world. This day may be filled with sunshine or rain, happiness or grief, achievements or disappointments.
God sees them all– He not only sees them, but He shares them with us. Every moment–every place– every person!
On This Day, you can be assured that God is with you. In joyful moments and tragic circumstances. In fearful situations and quiet moments of routine tasks. In crowds of commuters or in lonely corners. On This Day– and every day– God wants to share all that is on your mind and in your heart. On This Day and in this moment, God is as close as your next breath.
I know several people who had a very Merry Christmas this year. Some of them flew to exotic locations and spent Christmas on the beach, or in a big city with lights and dozens of family members. Some of them spent a cozy Christmas in a cabin with roaring fires and glittering snow-covered trees, eating sumptuous meals and unwrapping expensive gifts.
But most of the people I know spent a Christmas that wasn’t “post-card” perfect. Some of them were alone in a small apartment with no presents and no heat. Some were working at a job they hate because they had no other option. Some were grieving loved ones lost in the past months. Some of them are facing economic mountains– debt, job loss, medical bills or taxes they cannot pay, no money for rent or groceries… Some are battling cancer or alcoholism, anger, or fear. Some are estranged from their families, or separated from loved ones because of COVID, or deployment, or divorce. And some are facing persecution, starvation, homelessness, disease, or war.
Christmas comes, whatever our circumstances– and so does the Christ Child. Jesus didn’t come to the earth to bring us all “better” circumstances or worry-free holidays, but to deliver us from eternal death, and equip us to endure the circumstances we face in life. Jesus himself came in chaotic and stressful circumstances, and He came, knowing that He would face rejection, hatred, injustice, and death on a cross.
There are millions of people who spent a “Merry” Christmas and missed the whole point. Some of us indulged in a gift-giving frenzy that left others in the cold. Some of us allowed envy, fear, greed, or bitterness to color our Christmas. In the process, many of us lost sight of the true gifts of Christmas– Peace, Joy, and Goodwill. In fact, “His divine power has given us EVERYTHING we need for a godly life through our knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and goodness.” (2 Peter 1:3)
And these gifts are not temporary, like earthly Christmas gifts. They are always available, and they never break, expire, or grow dim. My prayer for this year(and the year to come) is that we all may find–and share!– these eternal and astounding gifts, this “inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade…kept in heaven for you” (1 Peter 1:4)
Christmas Day may not always be merry in this life, but because of Christmas we can face an eternity that will never disappoint, and we have a living Hope that can carry us through even the darkest hours!
Jesus was born in obscurity– yet he was also born during a Census year…
And it came to pass in those days that a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2 This census first took place while Quirinius was governing Syria. 3 So all went to be registered, everyone to his own city. 4 Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, 5 to be registered with Mary, his betrothed wife, who was with child. 6 So it was, that while they were there, the days were completed for her to be delivered. 7 And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
This is a Census year in the U.S. (something that has largely been forgotten in the wake of the COVID pandemic.) I actually worked for the Census Bureau for a few weeks this year, doing follow-up interviews for addresses which had not responded for various reasons. Census taking is much different now than it was in Jesus’ day. I had a script, and a smart phone, and several different forms to fill out or hand out to explain what we were doing–one form contained information in at least 14 different languages, and all of them had phone numbers and web addresses where people could “respond” electronically without ever leaving the comfort of their living room, let alone traveling over dangerous hills and trying to find room at crowded inns. I was the one who had to travel– mostly around my small town and within a 20-mile radius. One interview required me to travel 100 miles; another required me to utilize my ability to speak and understand Spanish. Otherwise, the interviews were simple and straightforward. Except when they weren’t.
“Everyone Counts,” the Census Bureau told us, and I did my best to get names and ages for everyone at every address I visited. But many of the addresses were abandoned buildings– even demolished. Others were summer homes or vacation rentals–I had to be careful not to count the same people twice! Often, I could tell that people were living at the residence, but either they weren’t home at that time or they would not come to the door. Some houses required several attempts before I got any response, and it wasn’t always positive or cooperative.
I imagine the scene in Bethlehem, though lacking the technology and ease of travel of our modern age, wasn’t so very different. There were people who wanted to do their civic duty; those who were annoyed at the inconvenience and general bureaucratic chaos; those who hated the Roman Government and everything it represented; and some who just wanted to get it all over with and go back to “normal life.”
We know that Joseph was called up to go to Bethlehem because is was his ancestral home. And we know that Joseph would have been counted as the head of the household. But is it possible that Jesus was counted in that census? That he was numbered among his people and with his family? That the God of all creation became a simple hash mark among thousands of others that year? “Jesus, son of Joseph of Nazareth.” “Infant son.” “Male child.” Jesus was counted. But He was also lost in the shuffle; discounted and ignored.
10 He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not. 11 He came unto his own, and his own received him not.
John 1:10-11 (KJV via biblegateway.com)
This season, it’s easy to feel left out, discounted, passed over. This year, especially, it can be lonely and discouraging as we look out on the world from lockdown, or look at faces covered by masks, unknown or unrecognizable. It’s easy to feel that no one sees us. Rest assured, Jesus knows what it is like to get lost in the numbers. He knows what it is to be discounted and misunderstood, rejected, and scorned.
And He knows exactly who you are and who I am– better than we know ourselves! We count! Not because of who we are, but because He is the creator and author of all life. No matter where you are, no matter who has rejected you in the past, no matter how dark and grim things look– God sees you; God loves you; God has taken you into His count. He doesn’t need a census count to find you, and you can’t get “lost” or hide in the crowd.
Pursuing Prayer 