plans

It’s hard to see God working when we’re in the middle of our own problems. If we don’t intentionally watch, it’s easy to miss.

I thought that this morning reading about the time Israel’s family ran out of food, for the second time, and needed to go back to Egypt to get more. Their brother Joseph (although they didn’t know it was him) had said they couldn’t come back without their youngest brother, Benjamin.

Israel dug in his heels, because Benjamin was the last remaining son (or so he thought) of his beloved Rachel. But the brothers were adamant; they would not go to Egypt without Benjamin. There was no point.

Then I read this, in Genesis 43:6 6: “Israel asked, ‘Why did you bring this trouble on me by telling the man you had another brother?’”

That simple statement, one sentence, stopped me. For one thing, it seemed so quintessentially Jacob: “You should have lied! You could have deceived that ruler and avoided all this!” But it also seemed so human. Who of us, faced with a reality we don’t want to accept, hasn’t said some “if only” statement similar to this?

But we know the whole story. We know that Israel still has two sons of Rachel, not one; we know that he’s about to be reunited with the long-lost Joseph. And so, with that wonderful ending in sight, I find myself shaking my head at Israel’s peevishness. God is about to bless him, and he’s resisting the blessing!

But I’m sure I’ve done the same thing – in fact, I know I have. I can think of times when I have. So in the end, it reminds me of my own inability to fully get with God’s program.

The truth is this: often I’m so sure I know the best thing, and I’m so focused on my own desires, that I can’t see God working. In fact, I can resist God, because he isn’t doing what I’m trying to do and I think that what he’s doing isn’t helpful. But in the end, I see the blessing God was trying to give me all along.

So, much as I can dislike Israel, today I identify with him. I feel empathy, because when I read his words I hear my own voice. Thank God that he doesn’t leave me to my own plans!

changed

One of the things that always impressed me about Daniel was his fearlessness in doing what was right no matter what the threat. This morning I was impressed in the same way with Joseph. I was reading a story I’ve read many times before, about Pharaoh having bad dreams and Joseph’s former jail-mates finally remembering him.

Genesis 41:14-16 “So Pharaoh sent for Joseph, and he was quickly brought from the dungeon. When he had shaved and changed his clothes, he came before Pharaoh.

Pharaoh said to Joseph, ‘I had a dream, and no one can interpret it. But I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it.’

‘I cannot do it,’ Joseph replied to Pharaoh, but God will give Pharaoh the answer he desires.’

I wonder if Joseph was tempted, even for a second, to say, “Sure, tell me about your dream.” After all, the only reason he got out of that hole and got a bath and some clean clothes was because Pharaoh thought Joseph could do something for him. It doesn’t seem prudent at that point to say, in essence, “Well, no, I can’t. You don’t need me, you need God.”

Joseph gave the glory to God for what he’d already done (interpret the dreams of the two servants) and expressed confidence in what what God would continue to do. It seems to me an amazing expression of faith for a man who had spent a long time in jail. Prison obviously didn’t make Joseph bitter. And, of course, his faith turned out to be well-placed.

I would love to have so much confidence in the Lord, and so little need for a reputation of my own, that I could think more often like Joseph. I struggle with both those things. I want people to give me credit for my work; I want the accolades that I feel I earn. And I often wonder if God will come through on something that’s important to me. What if this is one of those times I’ll be called to suffer?

To be able to say, “I’m not that good, but God is. All I can do is pray. But I’ll do that!” To be able to say, “Without Jesus I’m no different than you are, but let me tell you about him!” I wish I was there. Joseph seems to me to have gone way past just putting himself aside; it seems that he never even thinks about himself at all. 

That’s different than the boy Joseph who boasted about his dreams. God used slavery and prison to change that boy into the man Joseph who gives God all the glory. I trust that God isn’t finished changing me.

no worries

It struck me this morning what a great blessing Joseph was to people who weren’t followers of Jehovah. Eventually, of course, Joseph would save untold numbers of Egyptians from starvation, but look at his first couple of years in Egypt, related in Genesis 39.

“From the time he put him in charge of his household and of all that he owned, the Lord blessed the household of the Egyptian because of Joseph. The blessing of the Lord was on everything Potiphar had, both in the house and in the field. 6 So Potiphar left everything he had in Joseph's care; with Joseph in charge, he did not concern himself with anything except the food he ate.” (Verses 5-6)

That passage describes Joseph’s life with the man who bought him from the Ishmaelite slave traders. Despite the way he prospered with Joseph, Potiphar ended up sending him to prison. There, the same thing happened.

“So the warden put Joseph in charge of all those held in the prison, and he was made responsible for all that was done there. 23 The warden paid no attention to anything under Joseph's care, because the Lord was with Joseph and gave him success in whatever he did.” (Verses 22-23).

I want to be a Christian like that. I want to walk so close to God, and to be so close to the heart of his work here on earth, that God’s care-taking of me overflows into blessings on any unbeliever fortunate to be nearby. 

Can you imagine a better witness? What if my boss’s life got easier and better because I faithfully followed Jesus? What if the company was more profitable and the employees safe and healthier and more financially stable? What if in the process of living every day for God, he blesses my work not so that I benefit, but so those around me are blessed?

It seems not only like a good witness, but also like the best possible way to serve God and other people. I get it that God doesn’t work with and through everyone like he did through Joseph. I also think that I should work for God as though I might be someone that he could.

patches

Genesis 28:6-9 “Now Esau learned that Isaac had blessed Jacob and had sent him to Paddan Aram to take a wife from there, and that when he blessed him he commanded him, ‘Do not marry a Canaanite woman,’ and that Jacob had obeyed his father and mother and had gone to Paddan Aram. Esau then realized how displeasing the Canaanite women were to his father Isaac; so he went to Ishmael and married Mahalath, the sister of Nebaioth and daughter of Ishmael son of Abraham, in addition to the wives he already had.”

This little vignette, tucked in the middle of the story of Jacob in Genesis 27 and 28, seems to me to capture a poignant reality of my faith life, and I suspect the faith walks of many others.

Esau, in the middle of living his own life, being himself, doing what feels good, making himself happy, YOLO-ing – choose your catch phrase – realizes that his choice of women has offended his dad. Dad controls the estate, so this might be a problem to Esau’s pursuit of self-fulfillment. But Esau has an answer: in addition to his Canaanite wives, he adds another with, hopefully, a better pedigree.

[Sidebar: isn’t it interesting that Jacob turns to that competing clan of Abraham’s offspring, the Ishmaelites, for a better class of wife?]

I immediately see myself in Esau. How often hasn’t that been my answer to some compromise I’ve made with worldly values? While I was in the Guard, I always worked the Sunday of drill weekend but made sure I attended chapel services as well. At times when I’ve separated myself from communal worship for whatever reason, I’ve tried to make it up with prayer or Bible reading. I’m sure there are many other examples of my inclination to put patches on the tears and stains of my disobedience.

Here’s my problem: I so quickly excuse the sins I commit by pointing to the good that I try to do. I’m good at devotions, and reflecting  and writing about what I read in scripture. That doesn’t excuse my badness, but it’s easy for me to think it might.

Esau thought one acceptable wife would compensate for the more numerous unacceptable ones. Is that how I view my behaviors? Do I really believe God will forgive my daily pettiness and mean-spiritedness and snark and fits of anger and self-centeredness because I blog my devotional thoughts and preach every third Sunday?

I don’t think that’s what I believe, but this morning Esau makes me wonder. That’s the great thing about scripture: if you think about what you read, it’s like looking in a mirror.

God himself

Sometimes being an English major makes me seem weird to the rest of the world – OK, there are probably other reasons as well. But I love words, and how words get put together in sentences, and all the ways that words have concrete meanings but when you string them together they can imply meanings as well.

This morning, I had one of those moments, reading the account of the testing of Abraham in Genesis 22. In verses 6-8 it says this: “Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife. As the two of them went on together, Isaac spoke up and said to his father Abraham, ‘Father?’

‘Yes, my son?’ Abraham replied.

‘The fire and wood are here,’ Isaac said, ‘but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?’

Abraham answered, ‘God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.’ And the two of them went on together.”

There’s a question and an answer here that is very familiar, because I’ve been hearing this story since I was a boy. “Where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” “God himself will provide.” But this morning, as I read, this is what I saw: “Where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” “God himself.”

Now, I’m sure in the original Hebrew those sentences had a different construction, but in English this shouted to me of Jesus. God himself will be our sacrificial lamb!

Abraham, whose heart must have been breaking, and Isaac, innocent of what was going on, seem to me to represent our walk through life. Sometimes we know good and well that there is evil around us and evil within us, and we face it with grim determination. Sometimes, though, we think things are great, we’re on a fun outing with Dad, unaware that life is about to take an abrupt 90-degree turn. 

In any circumstance, though, our great good news, our only hope, is the same thing. God himself was our lamb for the offering. That’s the only way evil loses. 

God did provide a ram for Abraham, and he provided a Lamb for the world. There is no reason or sense in despair for me, no matter what I face.

seen

There are a lot of names for God, especially in the Old Testament, but I read a new one this morning. The context is this: Hagar, a pawn in Abram and Sarai’s human plan to bring him an heir, has run away from camp because of Sarai’s abuse. As she rests by a spring, pregnant and no doubt tired and dispirited, feeling like there is no place she belongs, an angel  comes to her. Go back, the angle says. God has a plan for your son.

And then this, in Genesis 16:13: “She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: ‘You are the God who sees me,’ for she said, ‘I have now seen the One who sees me.’” 

The God who Sees Me. What an awesome name! What a wonderful thing, to think that God is looking, he has his eye on me. He sees me!

I think of all the times in our lives when we can feel unseen. At a high school dance, when your crush seems oblivious. In college, when you wonder if your profs even care. At home, when your spouse seems to value the services you provide much more than who you are and what you long for. At work, where it seems like you’re just another piece of equipment.

Everyone else might be rushing past me, too intent on their own lives to notice that I’m sad, or happy, or frustrated. But God sees me. God knows everything I feel. God notices every circumstance of my life. God understands how it all makes me feel – he not only made this world as is everywhere in it, he took a human body and llived here for more than thirty years.

This morning it seems to me that there aren’t many things more comforting than this idea that God is watching. And I long to be able to say, as Hagar said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.” That intimate, direct, unarguable communication right from God that he has a plan, that he is watching over me – it seems such a sweet, sweet blessing.

I can have that, but it’s unlikely to come as overtly as it did for Hagar. However, I can talk to God whenever I want, and Jesus sits at his right hand to as assurance that I will be heard. God reveals himself not just in scripture, but in his daily providence and grace. 

So both of us are seen. God sees me, and if I look, he’ll be there. God grant me the strength to look past all the distractions and to see him at work. 

choice

Dawn had a great way of ensuring that our two kids shared fairly: if ever there was something that had to be divided, one split it up and the other got to choose his or her half first. That was a technique meant to guard against our human tendency to take advantage of each other, and to seek the best for ourselves.

God doesn't make it that easy – he lets me choose what I want, and then live with the consequences. In Genesis 13 is the story of what took place when Abram's and Lot's herds got too big to graze together, and the two had to go their separate ways. Abram told his nephew to pick his territory first, and we read of Lot's choice in verses 10-13.

"Lot looked around and saw that the whole plain of the Jordan toward Zoar was well watered, like the garden of the Lord, like the land of Egypt. (This was before the Lord destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah.) So Lot chose for himself the whole plain of the Jordan and set out toward the east. The two men parted company: Abram lived in the land of Canaan, while Lot lived among the cities of the plain and pitched his tents near Sodom. Now the people of Sodom were wicked and were sinning greatly against the Lord."

Lot did exactly what we all do – he took the best for himself. But he made that judgment the way I usually do, by measuring in worldly terms. The best dessert is the biggest one, the best car is the most luxurious, the best office is the corner one with lots of windows. 

Lot was unconcerned by the presence of wicked men in his territory. He could only see the richness of the land, and the easy life ahead of him. Of course, that life involved being captured by raiding kings, as we read in Chapter 14. And later, after a complete compromise of his own values, Lot would lose everything as Sodom was destroyed.

It's a reminder to me that choice is a potentially dangerous thing. My choices can reinforce my values or compromise them. My choices can move me toward or away from my Christian friends. My choices can make me more or less healthy. My choices will form my habits, which will eventually dictate most of my life. 

As I make choices, what am I looking at? Do I only see the things that will make life easy? Do I only see the things that the world values? Or do I see clearly the goals of my own sanctification, and the opportunities to fulfill my calling as part of Jesus' restoring force in this world?

These are important questions, because when I look back too often I have chose like Lot. And too often the outcomes have made obedience harder. I still look at choice like a child, zeroing in on instant gratification with the biggest or the most. 

It will take discipline to change a lifetime of practice, but there's an easy first step: prayer. Maybe I need to pray through more of my choices instead of thinking I know best. It's worth a try.

go

Genesis 12:1-3 The Lord had said to Abram, “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you.

I will make you into a great nation,

and I will bless you;

I will make your name great,

and you will be a blessing.

I will bless those who bless you,

and whoever curses you I will curse;

and all peoples on earth

will be blessed through you.”

This is an interesting moment in the story of God’s people, because it seems to me to be a transition from a kind of aimlessness to a sense of purpose. Abram represents the 10th generation since the ark came to rest after the flood, a long span of history summarized in a few verses of genealogy. Whatever may have happened during those years, the only event in all that time that is mentioned in scripture is the scrambling of languages at the Tower of Babel.

Now God speaks to the son of a wandering patriarch, Terah, who had stopped with his clan midway on a trip from Chaldea to Canaan years before. He has a simple command: “Go.” Abram doesn’t know exactly where, or why, or what he will do. He’s only told that if he obeys, his ancestors will become a great nation.

That was enough for Abram, and the seeds of the covenant were sown. One day soon would come that vision of God passing between the butchered animals, taking responsibility for both sides of the covenant with Abraham and his people. And on another day centuries later, Jesus would redeem me and make me part of the covenant. This episode in today’s reading initiates the restored relationship that I and my family have with God.

I wonder if I could have gone in faith like Abram did. Probably – I believe God doesn’t call people like he did Abram without equipping them to follow. I don’t know of anyone who resisted God’s call to a specific mission like this. So far, I haven’t had a call like that, but Abram is still a great hero of faith, a model of obedience that I need to be reminded of.

My road of obedience looks a lot different, but I can still only walk it in God’s strength. My prayer today is to see what God would have me do, and then to find the will to do it.

never again

"Never again" are very human words, maybe associated with a New Year's resolution or said in regret and pain after a bad decision. I remember those words from a badly hung-over college classmate, for example. Usually when people say that, the words express an intent but not reality, because we seem to have little ability to stay away from bad behavior. 

When God says things, those, it's not that way. When Noah and his family finally got off the boat, we read these words (Genesis 8:20-22): "Then Noah built an altar to the Lord and, taking some of all the clean animals and clean birds, he sacrificed burnt offerings on it. The Lord smelled the pleasing aroma and said in his heart: 'Never again will I curse the ground because of humans, even though every inclination of the human heart is evil from childhood. And never again will I destroy all living creatures, as I have done.

As long as the earth endures,

seedtime and harvest,

cold and heat,

summer and winter,

day and night

will never cease.'"

Never again, God says, and it really has never happened again. The seasons have come and gone like clockwork ever since; mankind has continued its evil work but God has never visited his judgment on all of life. 

That's why even the bitter cold and snow of January is reassuring. As long as earth exists, there will be winter – it's part of God's promise to withhold judgment until the time is right. Winter, spring, summer, fall will continue to roll by, each in its turn, as regularly as the sun and moon swap places in the sky. These are God's signs of his faithfulness to us. 

This morning, I'm thanking God for winter. I'm thanking him that rather than venting his worthy wrath, he instead sustains us. I'm thankful that this January has followed December. Not that I'm surprised – God said it would.

righteous

Genesis 7:1-4 The Lord then said to Noah, “Go into the ark, you and your whole family, because I have found you righteous in this generation. Take with you seven pairs of every kind of clean animal, a male and its mate, and one pair of every kind of unclean animal, a male and its mate, and also seven pairs of every kind of bird, male and female, to keep their various kinds alive throughout the earth. Seven days from now I will send rain on the earth for forty days and forty nights, and I will wipe from the face of the earth every living creature I have made.”

There are a lot of things to admire about Noah, but one of the most significant is that he was the one man in the whole world that God found to be righteous. I don’t think I’ve given that fact enough consideration before now.

What that meant was that Noah lived in a culture that had turned away from God. Every one of his neighbors, each one of his friends, every single person he did business with, served something or someone other than the Lord. The only people he could have God-talk with were his own family. Worship was either a family affair or something badly distorted. 

Yet Noah remained steadfastly faithful. How did he do that?

It’s a pertinent, even important question for me. Every day I make choices about what to watch on TV, what music I listen to, whether or not to laugh at certain jokes or join in the gossip. The culture I live in urges me to objectify others, to look out for myself, to seek first the pleasures of this world. Seldom on television or at the movies or in front of the news stand am I encouraged to meditate on the word of God, or to pray, or to serve. 

How much of that worldliness that follows something other than God has tainted my thinking? Am I willing to accept the sins the world flaunts? Am I building my own kingdom instead of God’s, pursuing worldly success instead of holiness? Am I even capable of recognizing how worldly I’ve become?

Here’s the core question: amidst this toxic world, have I stayed pure enough that, like Noah, God has found me righteous? Because his judgment will fall on the unrighteous of our time as surely as on the drowned generation of Noah.

It’s discouraging until I realize that I don’t have to do this alone. The same God who saved Noah from the flood saved me from my own judgment. Jesus is my hope, the Jesus who died on the cross, rose again, and ascended to sit with God as Lord of the universe. God would not find me righteous on my own, but when he looks at me he sees the perfectly white robe of righteousness Jesus draped me with. There’s nothing for me to fear.

Which makes me all the more determined to please God. What an amazing thing he did for me! Rather than fearing his wrath, I want to resist corruption to glorify him. Compared to that, all of the other goals I’ve ever had seem insignificant.

only evil all the time

This morning, reading from Genesis 5 and 6, I was struck by a phrase that explains a lot.

The pertinent passage is Genesis 6 starting at verse 5: "The Lord saw how great the wickedness of the human race had become on the earth, and that every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time. The Lord regretted that he had made human beings on the earth, and his heart was deeply troubled."

Only evil all the time – it explains 762 murders in Chicago in 2016, it explains the horror of Aleppo, it explains the victimization of drug addicts by criminal syndicates, it explains human trafficking. So many things can only explained by the word "evil," and all of them trace their origins back to the very beginning.

That's what the knowledge of good and evil, that forbidden fruit so coveted by Eve, brought us. It has corrupted our hearts so that, without God, every inclination of the thoughts of my heart are only evil all the time.

God hated it – he regretted ever making us. He committed himself and his son to an epic battle with evil that will not end until the earth itself is remade. That promise is seen in the rest of this passage. These two chapters are the start of the story of Noah, whose safe passage through the flood aboard the ark foreshadows the salvation that comes to all of us. 

It's good for me to be reminded that, absent from the redeeming work of Jesus, I'm not a good person. These bad things I still sometimes do are the dying struggles of the evil man I used to be, a bad person that I am slowly getting the better of. The good that I increasingly do, the love I show to my family, the service I give my church, the broken heart I feel for the abused of this world – those good things are all the proof anyone should need that in God there is hope for the most wretched sinner.

This change that God is working in me is the same change that I am called to work in the world. Just as each day I become less the old man and more like Jesus, each day I and all others like me are called to restore this world to what God planned it to be. That, not my job or my own empire, is my purpose here. 

It's good to be reminded of that at the start of the year.

desirable

There’s a reason “forbidden fruit” has become the cliché phrase that describes things we shouldn’t do. It’s an accurate description, for one thing – there are many things God has put off limits for me. But it also connects us with the original defiance of God that happened in the Garden of Eden.

I read that account again, in Genesis 3. The crux of the problem is in verses 3:6-7 “When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.”

The original sin set a pattern that is so typical we call it human nature. First, for Eve, this forbidden thing was so alluring. Instead of turning her back on that tree and looking at all the other fruit she was permitted to eat, she wanted this fruit. And since she wanted it, she took it. 

Then, she got Adam to go along. That’s a thing we do too – we validate our own choices by getting others to do the same thing. In these two ways, Eve’s sin, even though it was the very first, turned out to be very typical.

The forbidden fruit looks so good, and it seems there’s always a snake somewhere telling me why I should try it. By contrast, obedience looks dull and unfulfilling. I guess that’s why Satan is called the Father of Lies, because those two are whoppers. And when I fall for either one, he must laugh.

The consequences were immediate. At the end of Chapter 3 Adam and Even are banished, and in Chapter 4, one son murders the other and the wandering exile Cain would give rise to the pagan tribe of Lamech. And from that point the world was a place with as much evil as good.

It seems fitting that the other part of our reading that I did today, Psalm 2, describes the nations raging against God. People become societies, and societies become nations, and those nations reflect what their citizens are like. It’s no wonder that so many nations set themselves against God.

I’m reminded that the beauty of forbidden fruit is a deadly lie. And I’m reminded that Jesus’ work of saving those who believe the lies should be my work too. 

routines

This year, I’m using a reading plan developed by my church to help our members with disciplined reading and overall knowledge of what God has done. I’m eager to see what new understanding and opportunities come from  partnering with my church in  my annual Bible-reading journey. 

As we get started, I read the first couple chapters of Genesis in the context of going back to work. I worked half-days last week, and had a couple paid holidays mixed in, so I’ve had a nice break, but tomorrow it ends.

This year is like many recent years: I start with mixed feelings. Some things I meant to do last year I intend to tackle with renewed discipline. I think maybe I can get them this year because there are a couple of things (I guess you could call the resolutions, but I usually don’t) that I did in 2015, for the whole year. But I wonder if I can sustain those. 

So my New Year’s thoughts tend to center around work and productivity. The fun of the holidays is over and it’s time to knuckle down. 

In that context, the familiar creation account that begins Genesis was inspiring, because in it I noticed how God approached work. God had his routine – each day he did a day’s worth of work, and the record of each day ends like this: “There was evening, and there was morning.” 

And then, to cap it all off, that first week ended like this: (Genesis 1:31-2:3) “God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day.

Thus the heavens and the earth were completed in all their vast array. By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.”

God’s work so far surpasses mine that comparisons don’t seem relevant, but it seems to me that He could have made the world any way he wanted to, and he did it this way. It makes me thing that as his image-bearer, I can approach my own work the same way. I can tackle each day as it comes to me, and at the end the sun will go down, and I can take satisfaction in what I’ve accomplished. Tomorrow will be a new day. And at the end of the week will be my day of rest. In that way, I can do what I need to do, and live faithfully as I do it.

With this idea in mind, I was especially struck by one of my favorite passages, Psalm 1:1-3, which says, 

“Blessed is the one

who does not walk in step with the wicked

or stand in the way that sinners take

or sit in the company of mockers,

but whose delight is in the law of the Lord,

and who meditates on his law day and night.

That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,

which yields its fruit in season

and whose leaf does not wither—

whatever they do prospers.” 

It seems to me that these two passages, describing as they do a routine of work and a way of living that delights in obedience, set in front of me the best resolutions I could have. 

purity

It’s the end of the year. Christmas has come and gone, and we’re well into Epiphany. I started this year reading about the creation and the fall, and read my way through the whole Bible. I walked with the prophets through Advent, and rejoiced with the shepherds, Simeon and Anna at the birth of the baby. 

It’s an amazing story, from start to finish. It’s wonderful, and reassuring. It has the best ending of any story possible, because of Christmas, Good Friday, Easter and Ascension Day. I serve a risen Savior, I serve an ascended Lord. 

And here’s why that’s so awesome: Look at John’s description of home, in Revelation 21:22-27. “I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their splendor into it. On no day will its gates ever be shut, for there will be no night there. The glory and honor of the nations will be brought into it. Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb’s book of life.”

When Adam and Eve committed that first act of rejection, God started on his epic work of salvation. He worked in this world until conditions were just right and the time was perfect, and then he sent Jesus. Jesus did the thing I couldn’t do, he made an appropriate payment to God for my sin. As a result, my name is in the Lamb’s book of life. My name is in the book!

For all my present impurity, I’m already eternally pure. What an amazing, humbling thought. What a great end to this story. What a great end to my story!

Happy New Year! But more than that, I hope you too have this wonderful new life.

everything required

I think I’ve written it before, but Joseph makes an incredible role model.

For starters, in earthly terms there’s not much for him at Christmas. He has a pregnant bride and a bunch of neighbors who can count to nine months. He ends up with a baby that isn’t his. In the middle of it all, he has to make a long trip to Bethlehem, one that would certainly have been a lot easier had his life gone according to plan – he’d have a healthy young traveling companion, for starters. And he doesn’t get to consummate his marriage until after there was a baby.

Mary gets to meet Gabriel, Mary is most-favored by God, Mary shares this wonderful pregnancy with her cousin Elizabeth. Joseph just seems to get the short end of the stick.

But Joseph is a trooper. Sure, his life took a hard right turn and went somewhere completely unexpected. But Joseph tries to do the honorable thing, and then follows the angel’s message and cares for Mary and Jesus.

Joseph’s theme verse could have been Luke 2:39-40 “When Joseph and Mary had done everything required by the Law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth. And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was on him.”

Joseph did everything required of him by God’s law, and by God himself. He did what was needed. He did his duty. And he received in return the great blessing of living with and working with Jesus for the couple of decades or so that it took Jesus to grow up. Joseph got to see Jesus become strong and be filled with wisdom, and have the grace of God on him. What was that like? It must have been wonderful.

We talk about duty as if it’s the same thing as chores, but there can be a lot of satisfaction and even good feeling in doing your duty. Soldiers take a lot of pride in it, and so do diligent husbands. Joseph reminds me that my life is God’s to plan, and to use. Fulfilling all his requirements is a privilege, not a burden.

always on

There’s a phrase that is used in business for people who never, ever lose their focus: Always on. When you say someone is always on, you mean that all of their energy and attention stays on their work, even when they go home at night.

That would be a good phrase to describe Anna. 

Luke 2:36-38 “There was also a prophet, Anna, the daughter of Penuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was very old; she had lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, and then was a widow until she was eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped night and day, fasting and praying. Coming up to them at that very moment, she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem.”

Anna never left, never quit, never did anything else. She fasted and prayed and worshiped and praised, full time. It’s no surprise that she was at the temple when Mary and Joseph brought Jesus; she was always there. 

Anna’s reaction is what you’d expect of someone who’s always on: she gave thanks, and then she witnessed. She spoke to everyone, or at least everyone who still cared about the Messiah.

That seems like an excellent example to follow: Give thanks, and then witness. For this gift of the baby Jesus, for the gift of the cross, for the gift of the risen Savior, for the gift of the Holy Spirit, for the gift of my salvation – all these gifts of Christmas, I should give thanks. And then I should bear witness. 

I don’t know if anyone will ever say that I’m always on – I like my family time and my friends too well. But at least I can take the time regularly to imitate Anna.

consolation

I was reading in Luke 2 this morning, the familiar passage about Simeon, and it struck me what a special relationship he had with the Holy Spirit. 

Luke 2:25-35 Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts.”

Simeon lived before Pentecost, and while there are many accounts of the Spirit coming on people temporarily, Simeon seemed to have a different level of interaction. The Spirit was on him, Luke says, and then on this day the Holy Spirit prompted him to go to the temple. 

Of course, it was all oriented on Jesus. Simeon knew what the coming of the Savior would mean – he saw the Messiah as the consolation of Israel. Consolation is something you need when you’ve been hurt, or disappointed. Consolation is that thing that makes you feel better. This gift of the Spirit enabled Simeon to keep his focus when most of Israel had lost theirs.

I’m reminded that as a post-Pentecost believer, I have the same blessing as Simeon. I have the Spirit always with me. If I listen, the Spirit nudges me toward what I should be doing. And it’s all to keep my focus where it belongs: on the someday return of Jesus, and what I should be doing in the meantime. 

Yet another gift I take for granted. And a reminder that Advent isn’t the only time I should watch and wait.

amazed

Yesterday as I listened to the pastor at our Christmas service it struck me what an emotional rollercoaster the shepherds rode at that first Christmas. Look at that part of the story again: 

Luke 2:18-21 “And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. . . .’

“So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.”

They went from terrified, to reassured, then curious, then joyful. In the end, they were eager to share this wonderful thing. You get the idea that they were probably exhausted by the time they got back to the sheep.

I’m not sure what part of that would have been the most amazing. Was it when they realized that rather than being in terrible danger, they were instead getting the awesome news their people had waited centuries for? Was it when they realized, upon seeing the baby king, that it was really true – the sign the angel gave was spot on? Was it when they, some of the least important people in Bethlehem, suddenly had this story that amazed everyone they told it to?

Throw in an angelic concert and it all adds up to something beyond their wildest dreams.. I imagine they remember and told stories about that night for the rest of their lives. 

I felt a little bit sad and kind of jealous – it’s been a long time since my faith was that exciting. But it could be. I have the same great good news, and I know a lot of people who need to hear it.

That would make a great resolution this year – to go looking for Jesus, to truly try to find him in that way that’s so exciting and life-changing. I’d like to be so overwhelmed that I can’t help talking about it to everyone I meet. This good news should never feel ordinary.

Immanuel

Matthew 1:18-25 “This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.

But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.’

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: ‘The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’ (which means ‘God with us’).

When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. But he did not consummate their marriage until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus.”

The time is here. The long wait is over. For Mary, nine months of pregnancy and maybe social censure, and a trek back to Bethlehem. For the Jews, the torturous national faith journey that started in the Garden of Eden and took detours through Egypt and Babylon. For me, this period of introspection and expectation as I contemplate what Jesus’ coming will mean for me.

It all has happened, and will happen, in God’s good time. The Jews didn’t wait one minute longer than was good, and neither will I. All of the prophecies and promises are fulfilled, at just the right time.

There’s a lot of comfort in that fact, but today doesn’t feel comfortable – it’s exciting! It’s joyous! The dearest thing to my heart, the most wonderful thing I can image, has happened: God is with us! He was physically with Mary and Joseph, but he dwells in me as the Holy Spirit, and I can talk to God any time I want.

God is with us! I think about that but it doesn’t really sink in. It’s one of those things that is so great I almost can’t process it. The implications – I will never walk alone through any dark place again. I will never face any threat by myself. All my pains and tears are now shared. And I have the best counselor in the world for every choice I make from now on. 

All of life is different now, because of Christmas. Hallelujah! The wait is over.

choice

Christmas is almost here. We’ve been waiting for four weeks now, and we’re eager for the day to finally come. But are we really ready?

In secular terms, that question relates to having our gifts bought and baking done, and the house cleaned up. There’s always a rush at the end as we realize that we aren’t as prepared as we thought we were. I think that’s a helpful reminder of spiritual reality.

For four weeks we’ve been trying to slow down, to put ourselves in that mode of waiting and anticipating, so that we can experience once again that flood of gratitude and wonder on Christmas morning as we think about what really happened that day. As with our houses, we start to realize at the last minute that we’re not in the spiritual place we’d hoped to be going into Christmas. Our hectic lives got in the way.

All of that makes me ponder whether I’m really ready for Jesus to come again. My uncertainty coalesced this morning around these verses from John 3:31-36: “The one who comes from above is above all; the one who is from the earth belongs to the earth, and speaks as one from the earth. The one who comes from heaven is above all. He testifies to what he has seen and heard, but no one accepts his testimony. Whoever has accepted it has certified that God is truthful. For the one whom God has sent speaks the words of God, for God gives the Spirit without limit. The Father loves the Son and has placed everything in his hands. Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life, but whoever rejects the Son will not see life, for God’s wrath remains on them.”

I’m realizing again that when I first encountered Jesus I was face-to-face with a critical choice, the same one all the actors in the Christmas story faced. I have to choose either to accept Jesus as God himself, and therefore as my Lord, or to continue to exercise my own lordship over my life.

Is Jesus the one, the Messiah? Is he really God become man? Salvation hinges on these questions, because they address the effectiveness of the cross. 

Is Jesus the one, the Messiah? Was he really God become man? My salvation hinges on these questions, because only if Jesus is lord of my life do I have any hope at all. 

I pay a lot of lip service to the lordship of Jesus. I want to believe my life backs it up, but then I think of the times, recent times, when it didn’t. So the truth is, I’m glad Jesus didn’t come yesterday – I didn’t handle yesterday well. I’d rather he came on a day like that Tuesday a few weeks ago when I rocked the whole obedience thing.

So am I ready? Just as with hosting Christmas at my house, I think so but there’s this nagging feeling something isn’t right yet. I won’t really know until the day comes.

Watch and wait.