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.

adopted

Yesterday I wrote about being freed from death row. What a gift, to be pardoned for a crime I was fully guilty of, to be set free to live life un-condemned.

Today, though, even better news! 

Galatians 4:4-7 “But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, ‘Abba, Father.’ So you are no longer a slave, but God's child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir.”

The pardon from my death sentence would have been more than enough, but, if Paul is correct, Jesus rescued me from death row so that God could adopt me. It’s like Little Orphan Annie, except Shirley Temple was cute and loveable and I’m a nasty old sinner. 

But what a plot! The condemned prisoner set free by royal pardon, and then met at the door of the jail by his Savior. “Come with me,” the Savior says. “Where to?” I asked. “I’m taking you home. My dad completed the adoption paperwork, and you’re my brother now.” So off I go, with a room in the family mansion and a job in the family business. 

That job is keeping me away from home right now; I’m living for a while as an expatriate because there’s work here for me to do. But I’ll do it gladly because, when it’s done, I get to go home. I pray that God will be gracious enough not to leave me here one day longer than the work takes.

That’s what Jesus’ return will mean for me – it’s my ticket home. That’s the day when he will say, “Good work, brother. Dad’s pleased. He wants to see you, and your room’s ready. Let’s go.” All because of Christmas, when Jesus himself was an expatriate for a time in order to complete my rescue.

Whether that day comes with my death or at the end of this old earth, it can’t come too soon. Watch and wait!

included

Sometimes I lose sight of exactly how fundamental Christmas is. At the basis of everything, all my successes and failures, hopes and disappointments, adventures and disasters – all of the events and emotions that have made up my five-plus decades so far – is this one singular event. Without Christmas, there is no hope, and no point to any of it.

Paul explained it pretty well in Galatians 3:23-25. After describing how faith in Jesus changed the law, he wrote: “Before the coming of this faith, we were held in custody under the law, locked up until the faith that was to come would be revealed. So the law was our guardian until Christ came that we might be justified by faith. Now that this faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian.”

Those are some dramatic words that describe a frightening truth – that without Jesus we’re so shackled by sin and Satan that we could just as well be in a jail cell. The Old Testament law addressed a grim truth, that there is no way for people to pay the blood debt we owe God. Under the Old Testament law, we’re all on death row.

But then, Christmas. Everything changed – everything! Under the Old Testament law I wouldn’t even have been allowed in church. The covenant was for descendants of Father Abraham, not Grandpa Steggerda.

But look at the next few verses, 26-29: “So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.”

Before Christmas, I was on the outside looking in. I was the little kid with his nose pressed to the glass, watching the party inside. All the promises of God, all the grace of the covenant, wasn’t for people like me. And then, the God-man Jesus in a short life and horrible death changed my entire future. From that point on, it’s all mine – a wealth of gifts!

Where do I lose that part of Christmas? To really appreciate the birth of the child King requires a sense of the hopelessness of life without him. That consuming longing that gnawed like hunger for the Israelites eventually subsided, sated by more worldly things, until when the time came only a handful of Simeons and Annas still yearned for the Messiah. Why do I let that happen to me as I looked forward to Jesus’ return? How does Christmas become so benign and ordinary?

I want to recover that sense of desperate longing. Watch and wait.

infirmities

During Advent, I tend to read with an eye toward Jesus’ second coming. After all, his first is historical fact, amazingly, blessedly so. The thing that keeps Advent and Christmas from becoming ritualistic or, worse, spiritually anemic, is to walk that path of anticipation with my own forward-looking bias. In that way, the promises of Isaiah and Jeremiah and all the rest become representative of heaven.

Today, though, I’m reminded that Jesus fulfilled all those prophecies literally while he walked this earth. 

Matthew 8:14-17: “When Jesus came into Peter’s house, he saw Peter’s mother-in-law lying in bed with a fever. He touched her hand and the fever left her, and she got up and began to wait on him. When evening came, many who were demon-possessed were brought to him, and he drove out the spirits with a word and healed all the sick. This was to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah:

‘He took up our infirmities

and bore our diseases.’”

I don’t know why, but to me this is really striking. When Peter’s mother-in-law was sick, Peter wasn’t thinking about being saved from his sins. He was afraid for his mom. He was worried for his wife. The thought of an afterlife was comforting, I’m sure, but his immediate need was for healing. The same was true for all those demon-possessed people and their families. They had huge problems they needed to be saved from right away. 

And Jesus, with his huge heart, the son of the God who is love, saw it all and healed everyone. 

It makes me think two things. First, the Israelites were anticipating a prophesied Messiah who would make their earthly lives better. Why do I forget that Jesus will do exactly that for me? Why do I think of him as my after-death savior and try to hack through life on my own?

The second thing is a reminder that Jesus’ ministry was all about helping people. He filled his days with all the ordinary problems of average people; he sought them out and poured himself into their lives. Why, then, do I so often see discipleship in terms of my own sanctification, and not as a call to service?

I wonder at Jesus’ ability to challenge me from across the centuries; even after five decades of hearing this story it still challenges me. And I wonder in what ways Jesus will challenge me when he comes back.

Watch and wait.

highway

Roads and paths tend to capture my imagination. They catch my eye – when I see an interesting road or winding path I want to follow it, to see where it takes me, to find out what’s at the end. I imagine all kinds of interesting places and maybe even the opportunity for adventure.

This morning I read about a road that I really would like to take.  Isaiah 35:5-10 says, 

“Water will gush forth in the wilderness

and streams in the desert.

The burning sand will become a pool,

the thirsty ground bubbling springs.

In the haunts where jackals once lay,

grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.

And a highway will be there;

it will be called the Way of Holiness;

it will be for those who walk on that Way.

The unclean will not journey on it;

wicked fools will not go about on it.

No lion will be there,

nor any ravenous beast;

they will not be found there.

But only the redeemed will walk there,

and those the Lord has rescued will return.

They will enter Zion with singing . . . .”

Imagine, a road for those who follow Jesus! This road will certainly take me on a spectacular journey. I can’t even begin to imagine what I’ll see and experience there. I’m hoping I can walk it – I find that I see so much more, and get a much better feel of the landscapes and neighborhoods, when I walk. It would be a pity to zoom down the Way of Holiness.

And I won’t be alone – this is the highway that Jesus followers will travel, and maybe even Jesus himself. Good companions make for good journeys.

This is a prophesy of the new earth, after the return of Jesus. It offers a glimpse of what the longest part of my existence, what we call the after-life, will be like. It makes me eager.

Watch and wait.

harvest

Luke  3:15-18 The people were waiting expectantly and were all wondering in their hearts if John might possibly be the Messiah. John answered them all, ‘I baptize you with water. But one who is more powerful than I will come, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.’  And with many other words John exhorted the people and proclaimed the good news to them.”

As I focus this Advent on the anticipation of Jesus’ coming, I connect in a new way with those Jews who were so excited that the Messiah might actually have come. They were expectant, Luke says. They wondered if John was the one.

He wasn’t, and didn't pretend for a second. John acknowledged immediately that he wasn't even good enough to tie the Messiah’s shoes. John would baptize with water, but Jesus would bring the Holy Spirit for the saved and the fire for the damned. 

Luke calls this good news. Really? Repent or burn is good news? But if I consider that the ones with John were the ones longing for the Messiah, then it makes sense. The Messiah is coming! If you’ve been faithful to the covenant, you have nothing to worry about. If you haven’t but still believe, it isn’t too late – produce fruit in keeping with repentance. It’s only if you reject Jesus that there’s anything to fear. 

It’s a reminder I need. Some days I live faithfully. Some days I do OK – my focus is generally right, but I can lapse in certain specific circumstances. Some days I clearly disappoint Jesus. 

Like the crowds, the tax collectors, and the soldiers who asked John, “What then should we do?,” I need to ask that same question every day. How do I prove by my life that I repent – not just am fearful of consequences, but truly hate my sin? What will qualify me as wheat rather than chaff?

These are important questions, maybe the most important as I prepare for that day when Jesus comes again.

Watch and wait.

vipers

For four centuries there hadn’t been a prophet in Israel. It was as if God had fallen silent, and the people of Israel wondered if they’d been abandoned. Then the son of Zechariah and Elizabeth showed up in the desert, eating bugs and wearing animal hair. He looked and acted like a prophet. But listen to what he said.

Luke 3:7-8 John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance.”

I learned while preparing a sermon that John was being especially mean here. Vipers were considered some of the nastiest creatures around – it was believed that they ate their way out of their mothers. Being called vipers was insulting.

And just in case they missed the point, John asked them who warned them to flee – this could be a reference to the preferred method of getting vipers out of a field, which was to burn it. The vipers then would flee the field, seeking someplace safe from the flames.

This was a harsh call to repentance. He basically said, “You guys are so nasty you’d hurt your own mother if it helped you. The only just end for you is to be burned out.” 

John’s call was to produce fruit in keeping with repentance, so that the coming savior wouldn’t destroy them. As I wait during this Advent period, I find myself asking if I produce that kind of fruit. Does the outcome of my actions show repentance? Where is my fruit, what does it look like?

That’s my challenge to myself this Advent, to turn my nasty viperish self into someone who bears the fruit of repentance. It seems like if I can do that until Christmas, it might be the start of a new way of thinking.

That’s only a couple of weeks. Watch and wait.

delivered

I was intrigued when my Advent devotional took me to 1 Samuel 2 this morning. I can honestly say I’ve never connected the story of Hannah and Elkanah, a childless couple, with this period of waiting for Jesus.

But it’s interesting to think about this other young Israelite woman, Hannah, who, like Mary and Elizabeth in the Christmas story, had her own song of praise recorded in scripture. Hannah was desperate for a child – childless brides were objects of pity in that society, ones whom God’s blessing had passed by – and she poured out her desperation to God. God heard, and Hannah was a mother.

And this is her response, from1 Samuel 2:1-2: 

“Then Hannah prayed and said:

‘My heart rejoices in the Lord;

in the Lord my horn is lifted high.

My mouth boasts over my enemies,

for I delight in your deliverance.

There is no one holy like the Lord;

there is no one besides you;

there is no Rock like our God.’”

When Hannah needed deliverance, she turned to God and was saved. The result was Samuel, one of the greatest prophets in Israel’s history. 

 When Israel had almost forgotten its promised deliverer, God came to Mary in order to save. The result was Jesus, God with us, who was the ultimate high priest and the savior of us all. 

There’s a neat symmetry to these three mothers. Hannah’s blessing from God was the prophet who would anoint King David, the forefather of Jesus. Elizabeth’s blessing from God was the prophet John, known as John the Baptizer, who would announce Jesus’ coming to the world. And Mary’s blessing from God was his great blessing to all of us.

The details of God’s great rescue plan are as beautiful as they are intricate. What else is still to be revealed? Watch and wait.

patience

When will Jesus come? No one knows. He told us he’ll surprise us, coming like a thief in the night. It’s been thousands of years and we’re still waiting. Except a lot of people aren’t anymore. It’s been too long, and the post-Christian world has moved on. 

I think that’s what happened to the Jews before Jesus was born. After so many centuries, they didn’t really believe he’d show up in their lifetimes. 

I used to wonder why. God chose when Jesus would be born, and the time of his return. Why make us wait?

Peter tells  me why, in 2Peter 3:8-9: “But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.”

God isn’t concerned about time, he cares about hearts. If by waiting a while longer one more soul will turn to him, isn’t that worth it?

My challenge is remaining focused on Jesus while I wait. He isn’t here, and I have a lot on my plate. It’s easy to think life is about my job, my hobbies, my families. When I do that, I increase the odds I’ll be looking the wrong way when, like a thief in the night, Jesus finally shows up. 

I don't want that. I need disciplines in my life that keep me watching and waiting.

water

The sad story that has unfolded in Aleppo, Syria over the past month just tears at my heart. Images of little children who were pulled from the rubble, or worse yet, little bodies in the streets, get at me in a way that few other things do. The grieving and fear and deprivation that has been part of everyday life in Aleppo is mind-boggling.

One very basic thing that just doesn’t seem like it should happen any more is going without water. In addition to shortages of everything else, including medical care, water is hard to come by for the people living there.

Those recent thoughts made Isaiah 41:17-20 especially impactful this morning:

“The poor and needy search for water,

but there is none;

their tongues are parched with thirst.

But I the Lord will answer them;

I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them.

I will make rivers flow on barren heights,

and springs within the valleys.

I will turn the desert into pools of water,

and the parched ground into springs.

I will put in the desert

the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive.

I will set junipers in the wasteland,

the fir and the cypress together,

so that people may see and know,

may consider and understand,

that the hand of the Lord has done this,

that the Holy One of Israel has created it.”

Being without water is miserable and life-threatening. So is being without the Holy Spirit, which is what this passage in Isaiah is really about. Centuries later, Jesus would tell listeners in the temple that the Living Water he promised was the Holy Spirit. It would refresh their souls and give them life.

Before Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit was poured out, there had to be Christmas. Jesus came to save, and then to equip the saved God sent the Holy Spirit. Just as was prophesied.

I’m reminded this morning that I’m blessed with the Holy Spirit in me because of Christmas. It’s a gift that too often I take for granted. It’s a gift that’s meant to help me become more holy, to help me get ready for when Jesus comes.

It’s the gift of the Holy Spirit that helps me to watch and wait.

plowshares

General Douglas MacArther said something like, “No one more than a soldier prays for peace, for it is he who must pay the ultimate price of war.” I thought about that a lot in the 25 years that I was a soldier and have wondered often why the most hawkish people on the news and on social media are the ones who have never worn a uniform.

I think civilians in America have a very different view of war than in most of the world. For us wars are fought over there, giving us the freedom to engage in impassioned debate about rights and wrongs and what our national strategy should be. For most, war is fought at home, disrupting services, bringing shortages, disrupting the kids’ education, maybe destroying homes. 

The Israelites had experienced plenty of that kind of war. They had been subject to annual raids by the Midianites in Gideon’s time, were constantly at war with the Philistines for most of the lifetime of King David, and would be plundered by the Assyrians and the Babylonians.  For them, Isaiah 2:3-4 must have been a jaw-dropping, tear-bringing promise:

“Many peoples will come and say,

‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,

to the temple of the God of Jacob.

He will teach us his ways,

so that we may walk in his paths.’

The law will go out from Zion,

the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.

He will judge between the nations

and will settle disputes for many peoples.

They will beat their swords into plowshares

and their spears into pruning hooks.

Nation will not take up sword against nation,

nor will they train for war anymore.”

It’s one of my favorite images in scripture: old soldiers, back home on the farm with their wives and children, and maybe grandchildren, using hooked spears to cut back their olive trees and grape vines. Swords, reformed to cut sod instead of flesh, used to prepare fields for planting. I picture sunshine and fellowship and honest sweat. And no fear.

Someday there will be no wars. There will be no armies. There will be no defense budgets, no departments dedicated to homeland security. God will be our guarantee of peace, and at that time no man or woman will ever again train to harm another.

That’s another reason we needed Christmas – because in our sin, sometimes we’d rather kill each other than co-exist. The peace of this passage can only come when sin has been conquered. This old soldier is eager to see that day. Watch and wait.

as the waters cover the sea

More and more lately, as I observe some particularly nasty act or see someone broken by a tragic event, I find myself thinking, “If only you knew God!” When I think that, I guess I’m recognizing that the only thing that keeps me from being mean-spirited, and the only thing that enables me to bear up in hard times, is what I know of God’s character and his promises. I wonder how people get by without God, and I wish they didn’t.

There will come a day when the entire world will know God, and in fact know all about God. It says so in Isaiah 11:9: “ . . . the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord

as the waters cover the sea.” Just like the flood engulfed all living things in the time of Noah, we will all drown in the knowledge of God when that time comes.

That may sound scary to the ones trying to deny God or run from him or discredit him. This verse describes a time when all of us will have to come to terms with how well or poorly we honored and served God. 

But really, this flood of God-knowing is one of the most wonderful promises in all of scripture. Look at the three verses before this one:

“The wolf will live with the lamb,

the leopard will lie down with the goat,

the calf and the lion and the yearling together;

and a little child will lead them.

The cow will feed with the bear,

their young will lie down together,

and the lion will eat straw like the ox.

The infant will play near the cobra’s den,

the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest.

They will neither harm nor destroy

on all my holy mountain,

for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord

as the waters cover the sea.”

That’s what knowing God does – it makes us loving and kind instead of nasty and mean. Whoever wrote the story of the Grinch got closer to the truth than he knew; all of us by nature have hearts three sizes too small, hearts that prompt bad feelings towards others. But when we get to know God, we become bighearted. It feels so good to serve others.

That change is the outcome of Christmas, when Jesus came to fix our broken relationship with God and to show us the Father. Just as sin turned us into Grinches, Jesus transforms us into God’s kind of people.

Oh, how this world needs that. Oh, how I need it. Watch and wait.

hard service

Life can be hard. That may be why so many people feel ambivalent about Christmas. There seems to be a disconnect between the life we know and the saccharine-sweet images and scenes that we see in Christmas cards and television ads. 

Few of us enjoy a Norman Rockwell or Currier and Ives Christmas. In our lives, people have cancer and debt and are unemployed. Relationships are sometimes bad. Many of us struggle to find peace on earth and goodwill towards others. Our politicians and political parties, as well as their advocates on social media, are still mean-spirited towards each other. Heartbreaking news continues to come from Syria and Afghanistan and Iraq. Bizarre acts of violence keep popping up all across America. People are still sleeping in cars and on sewer grates in every major city. Instead of the beautiful fluffy snowfalls in all the snow-globe wonderlands, our lives instead are full, metaphorically speaking, of miserable blizzards where snow driven sideways on a 30-mile-per-hour wind sucks the breath from our mouths and makes getting around impossible. 

I’m reminded today that the secular Christmas we see celebrated on Facebook and our TV screens is not the Christmas of the Bible. All those people want us to think that if we’re nice to each other in December, and buy a new car, the world will somehow become better. But a Biblical Christmas acknowledges what our lives are really like.

Take these famous first few verses of Isaiah 40:

“Comfort, comfort my people,

says your God.

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,

and proclaim to her

that her hard service has been completed,

that her sin has been paid for,

that she has received from the Lord’s hand

double for all her sins.”

Hard service – is there a better way to describe what it’s like trying to live for Jesus in this world? Life is hard because the world opposes me, and then I make it harder with my own sin. There’s joy in life, to be sure, but there’s a lot of pain too. And even when there’s joy and peace in my life, there’s pain for people I love. 

But the prophesy of Christmas is a word of comfort. That’s coming to an end, Isaiah says. You’ve lived with the burdens and consequences of sin in your life and in the world, but God is going to take care of all that. You’re going to be fine.

Christmas isn’t a season to celebrate human goodness. It’s the time when we mark the divine antidote to human evil. Despite the ugliness of real life, God brings comfort. It’s coming.

Is there a message we need more right now than this? It can’t happen soon enough. Watch and wait.

cloud and fire

When God led his people out of Egypt, an earthly salvation that was part of his plan to deliver spiritual salvation as well, he manifested himself in an unusual way: He went ahead of the Israelites as a cloud of smoke by day and a fire by night. 

When Isaiah prophesied for the Lord, he was given these words, found in Isaiah 4:5-6 “Then the Lord will create over all of Mount Zion and over those who assemble there a cloud of smoke by day and a glow of flaming fire by night; over everything the glory will be a canopy. It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain.”

As an English major I love the symmetry, but as a Christian I’m amazed at the possible meanings. In Zion, which is a code word for the new Jerusalem or heaven, God will create the same manifestations that he used on earth. 

It’s as if God is saying, “Once I led you myself, step by step, so that you would’t lose your way. You couldn’t, because I was there. I told you whether to march, and led you when you did. But then we stopped and you thought you knew where I was, in the temple, so you stopped following. You went your own way, and got horribly lost.

“But now I’ve brought you back, and I will be so obviously with you that there is no way for you to get lost again.”

That may be a little fanciful, but I think it communicates perfectly what the great story of redemption is all about. It reminds me, in this waiting period before Christmas that is meant to recall the long wait for the Messiah, that I too need this savior. I need him badly. 

Someday he will come, and I will go, and together we will be in this place of the smoke cloud and the blazing fire. Watch and wait.

no doubt

Sometimes I have a problem with doubt. Mostly what I doubt is myself – what if I don’t understand this correctly? If I’m wrong, things are going to be different than I’m planning on. What if I put my faith in the wrong thing? What if I’m really trusting in my own idea or opinion?

That kind of doubt, of course, leads next to doubt about what will happen. Will the weather really be safe to drive through? Can that person really do what I’m counting on her to do? Will I be able to do what I promised?

I don’t let myself think like this very much – I believe you do the best you can with planning and preparation, and then just go with whatever happens. But there are moments when I recognize that I’m depending on things that are out of my control. 

My devotional readings this morning made me think about that, because of all the things I sometimes doubt, I have never doubted the return of Jesus. Not even for a second. Not once have I wondered, “What happens if he doesn’t come back? What if he changes his mind?”

I have no doubts because scripture is full of the promises of God. I read one again this morning, in Isaiah 54:10 “’Though the mountains be shaken

and the hills be removed,

yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken

nor my covenant of peace be removed,’

says the Lord, who has compassion on you.”

I don’t doubt because God promised. God is all-powerful, so he can do whatever he wants. God is love, so he wants to do good things. God called me into a relationship with him, so he wants to do good things for me. God’s promises are more certain than the sunrise.

I imagine a lot of Jews before the birth of Jesus wondered if the Messiah would ever come. It would be easier, I think, to have doubts before then. God’s plan up to that point involved harsh judgment at the hands of invading nations, and exile in Babylon. It permitted the occupation of Israel by the hated Romans. It included virtual silence from God – no prophets in Israel – for the last 400 years. Some doubt would be natural.

But I live after the first Christmas and after the first Easter, and after Jesus’ ascension. I know that God made good on that promise, and I know that my Redeemer lives. There is not space for even a flicker of doubt, not in what Jesus plans to do or whether he can do it. Doubt in myself, yes – am I really worthy of this salvation? Doubt that Jesus will come? Absolutely not. Watch and wait.

rainbow

One of the great joys of my life at this point is watching Dawn read Bible stories to the grandkids. Somehow that simple thing shows me the covenant more than any other experience I’ve had. This woman who committed herself to God and then later to me is more than just the biological matriarch of our little clan. She’s also the spiritual mother who shows in her every-day faithfulness to God and us what can be done by those who live in God’s will.

I’m also able to see with my five decades of perspective that all of those Bible stories are the same story, and the Bible is really one story. So it seems entirely appropriate this morning to read about Noah as part of Advent devotions. In fact, I now wonder why I’ve never seen a rainbow Christmas ornament.

Look at this from Genesis 9:12-13: “And God said, ‘This is the sign of the covenant I am making between me and you and every living creature with you, a covenant for all generations to come: I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life. Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth.’”

That echoes for me God’s promise in the Garden and through all of time to send a savior. The destruction that I deserve for my sin is the same as the godless people of Noah’s day, the ones destroyed by the flood. On that occasion, all creation paid the price. Later on, God himself, the God-man Jesus, would pay my price. 

God promised Noah that from this point there would always be life, always be hope. He marked that promise with a rainbow. 

It’s kind of sad that these days the rainbow means something so different in our society; it has been coopted by a movement that denies and defies God’s created order for sex. Yet even in that there seems to me a message of hope. My own sin is no less offensive to God, yet his sign of the rainbow is for me. 

Maybe rainbow Christmas ornaments are bad idea, but maybe they aren’t. God’s promise of covenant to Noah is no different than his covenant with Abraham and curse on the serpent and all his promises to his people through all of time: No matter how bad your sin, there will be a way out. The rescuer is coming. Watch and wait.