The Advent of Generosity – December 6, 2013

Suggested Reading: Luke 11: 11-13

Today, some Christians will be celebrating the Feast of Saint Nicholas. Nicholas was a bishop and leader of the church in what is today Southern Turkey. He was known for his generosity as well as his participation at the Counsel of Nicaea. Nicholas gave generously and anonymously, sometimes throwing money through open windows, or down chimneys.  From these devout roots grew the myth of Santa Claus. Behind the mythical generosity of Santa Claus, and the historical generosity of Saint Nicholas, is the immense generosity of God.

God is kind and generous to all His creation. He has created a beautiful world filled with good things for us to enjoy. Every good and perfect gift comes to us from the hand of the loving Father who created us and placed us here. The universe is an intricate and exquisite design with almost infinite diversity and power beyond our comprehension.

God gives us all we need to live. He provides the food we eat, the water we drink, and the very air we breathe; and He does this for everyone. He doesn’t just give good gifts to those who love Him. His makes the rain fall on everyone. He generously gives to everyone, even those who will never acknowledge Him, let alone thank Him.

But there is a special gift that is offered to everyone, but not everyone receives. God offers Himself. He offers to buy us back from our wrong ways of thinking and behaving. He offers to free us from the slavery and tyranny into which we have sold ourselves. He offers redemption and freedom.

When I was growing up we had candy in our stockings, and small gifts under the tree, but there was almost always a big gift, an extravagant gift that would blow us away. We immediately attacked the candy in the stockings, and were always grateful for the small gifts, but Christmas was the one time in a year that my parents would give us a huge extravagant gift, usually beyond even our childish imaginations.

I can’t imagine leaving the biggest and best gift unopened on Christmas morning? Can you?

God generously gives us all things, including Himself. He is the biggest gift!

...................

Questions:

Are you daily receiving God’s gift of Himself to you?

How can you be generous to someone today?

The Advent of Growth

The miracle of Christmas is that God was born as a human. God became one of us, truly one of us. He did not appear in human likeness. The Christ, the Son of God, became one of us as His body was formed in His mother's womb, just as my body was knit together in my mother's womb.

When Christ came to earth, He didn't appear full grown. Jesus was born into this world with the blood, sweat, and probably tears through his mother's labor. He was born as a baby, not knowing or being able to do much at all. He had a lot to learn.

Baby Jesus had to learn how to breast feed. He had to learn how to crawl, how to walk, how to run. He had to be potty trained. Jesus had to grow in knowledge and wisdom as well. It wasn't just physical growth. He had to learn how to relate. He had to learn language, or in his time and place, languages. He would have learned Hebrew (the language of the scriptures), Aramaic (the language of the streets), and probably a smattering of Greek (the language of society and culture) and Latin (the language of government). He also learned a trade, carpentry. 

Jesus didn't just pop into our world and start performing miracles. He lived a full life of childhood and through adolescence to manhood. In being born, growing, and learning as we all do, Jesus sanctified the process, he showed these to be holy activities, or at least that they could be done in a holy and sinless way.

I was struck by this anew recently as I was berating myself for failing to do something that I knew was best, that I ultimately wanted to do. I felt like I should be farther along already. I should be done growing. As I took this to the Lord, I felt the gentle reminder that He was patient with me. In my petulance I felt myself bristle internally, feeling that He couldn't understand what it was like to not be perfect.

Then I remembered. Jesus grew up. Jesus was perfect in the sense of never having broken fellowship with the Father, He never sinned. But he was not perfect in that He never made any grammatical or spelling mistakes as He was learning language. He did not suddenly know how to do carpentry. He learned from Joseph, in the workshop, or on the job. He had to learn, and undoubtedly made mistakes. Jesus Christ knows what it is like to not know things and to learn.

This gives me hope. We have a God who has walked a mile in our shoes. He knows what it is to learn and to grow. His growth sanctifies my growth. I can give myself the grace to grow and be in process.

Jesus birth, which we celebrate at Christmas, gives me grace for growth.

The Advent of Power

As we draw near to Christmas, we often see nativity scenes and sing songs that reflect on little baby Jesus. There is nothing wrong with drawing up beside the manger and gazing in wonder at God wrapped in the skin of a helpless, human baby. It is good and right that we wonder at His humility and this miracle.

But there is another side to this story.

The miracle of the incarnation is a moment of incredible power. It was a decisive event in the destiny of the universe, the turning point of history.

When Christ emptied Himself of His divine power and knowledge He performed a deed of breathtaking heroism. His submission in the incarnation was a heroic act of faith, and a dramatic step   in the war in heaven.

The Apostle John was given a vision of what was happening on a cosmic level in the birth of Jesus. He records his vision in the 12th chapter of Revelation. John saw Satan, the enemy of God and of man, trying to prevent the birth of the Christ child and to destroy him, but God preserved the baby's life and Satan was defeated. Notice that he was defeated at the birth of the child.

The birth of Jesus was a military victory in the battle between good and evil.

Is it any wonder that when the angels ambushed those unsuspecting shepherds that they were armed for battle. Luke describes the shepherds as being scared by the appearance of one angel, but imagine their terror when the sky is opened and they were suddenly confronted by a contingent of the heavenly army. One messenger angel was terrifying, I can't imagine the fear inspired by an angelic war host.

The Christmas story is not just about a humble carpenter and his virgin bride in a stable in Bethlehem. There is much more going on there than the simple surroundings would indicate.  This is a momentous occasion of great cosmic importance. The armies of heaven were literally present in Bethlehem that night. Only the shepherds got to see them, but they were there.

The lonely couple far from home, giving birth to this little baby, and laying him in a feeding trough were playing their part in one of the most powerful and pivotal moments of all time.

I wonder what is going on right now? What is God doing around us and through us if we could only see it?

The Advent of Interruption

Nobody expected God to come.

Sure, there were the old prophecies and the vague hope for a messiah someday, but no one was expecting God to break through and actively involve Himself in and through the lives or ordinary people.

Zechariah was minding his own business in the temple when he was interrupted by an angel. Even after the angel told him who he was and what was going to happen, Zechariah still incredulously asked for proof.

Mary wasn't expecting an angelic visitation, let alone a divine pregnancy, an immaculate conception. She neither asked for nor expected this invasive interruption of her plans.

Joseph wasn't anticipating his virgin bride to fall pregnant until after the wedding. Upon discovering her unwelcome interruption, he immediately set about to do what any self-respecting, God fearing man would do, break off the engagement with his shameful betrothed. Only another angelic visitation in his sleep convinced him to change his plans and adopt the Son of God as his own son.

The Magi were not sure what to expect as the stars told them a surprising tale of the King of the Jews to be born in a distant land. They stepped forward into their journey with an uninformed but sincere faith to see where the star might lead them, prepared to worship the as yet unborn King wherever they might find him. The most obvious place to search was at the palace.

King Herod certainly wasn't expecting to have to deal with a new threat to his rule. He had effectively eliminated all who he perceived as a threat, not even sparing his own family. He was not expecting the inconvenience of a messiah, of The Messiah. The arrival of the magi was an interruption that he could do without.

The scribes and teachers of the law who told Herod where the messiah would be born, in lowly Bethlehem, were not expecting it to happen in their day. Even the arrival of the strange magi from the east and Herod's cryptic inquiry were not enough to pique their interest. They evidently couldn't be bothered to follow up on the lead they provided and went about their business, not terribly curious about an apparent messiah in their midst.

The shepherds certainly weren't expecting an angelic visitation, let alone a heavenly invasion with the armies of heaven appearing before them and breaking into song on that evening in the wilds of Judea. Minding their own business, tending sheep, perhaps picking fleas from their cloaks or swapping stories around the fire, when they were terrified by the heavenly ambush.

No one was expecting God to interrupt their lives with good news of great joy. No one was expecting to be used by God to accomplish His marvelous purposes in history. At just the right time, although no one expected him, and few welcomed him, He came among us through the lives of ordinary people.

He does the same thing today.

Are you ready to be interrupted?

The Advent of Hope

The world is messed up!

There are wars and rumours of wars. There are economic problems, political problems, racial problems, family problems, and the list could go on. Proposed solutions and the people proposing them come and go, but the problems remain. In the midst of all of this, it is easy to become discouraged. Just a quick glance at the headlines on any given day gives us many reasons to despair and few reasons to hope. 

We may imagine that we are living in a uniquely terrible time in history, but many generations have seen similar times and felt similar things. Empires have risen and crumbled and people in those times have lived through a level of pain and chaos that most of us have never experienced. And, I hope we never will. The Jews living in Palestine at the turn of the first century knew more about these things than we do at the end of the twenty-first century. 

They were living under an oppressive foreign regime who installed a puppet king over them. They lived under military occupation and were subject to brutal treatment and crushing taxation. They longed for someone to deliver them. They lived in anticipation that God would intervene and save them, setting them free. They dreamed of the coming of the Messiah, the long delayed fulfilment of the ancient prophecies, already hundreds of years old in their day. 

When Zechariah was ambushed by an angel of God in the temple, the plot began to thicken. Their were rumblings and rumours  not of war but of hope. Could this baby to be born to a barren old woman and a dried up husband be the One? There were whispers in the hills of Judah. God is on the move! There is something special about this child!

But this baby, miraculous though his birth was, was not the One. There was another coming. A birth even more miraculous on the way. Not one originating in the temple, but in a backwater town. Another visitation, and another miraculous pregnancy, this time in a virgin womb. God's only son became flesh, the Spirit of Christ enfleshed in the waiting womb of a willing young woman. Mary was to be the mother of the Our Lord, the Hope of Nations. 

The Advent of Christ was a rebirth of hope. More than that, a fulfilment of hope becoming flesh and dwelling among us. God drew near to us and demonstrated His love in the most tangible way possible, He became one of us. The God who created all things humbled Himself and became part of His creation. He began the remaking that will ultimately be fulfilled when His reign is fully established. But what a beginning He has made!

He is not distant or disengaged. He is not against us. He is one of us. He is among us. He is for us. We can know Him and know that He understands us. He is the reason for and the embodiment of our hope. The hope that came at Christmas!

Please Empty Your Pockets

I travel a fair bit. I can't begin to count the times I've emptied my pockets before being allowed through security. It's a ritual of air travel now. Perhaps that's why I was so so taken aback by a picture suddenly appearing to my mind's eye as I reflected on the miracle of Christmas this morning.

In my imagination, I saw the eternal Son of God, the Christ, emptying His pockets. As I continued to ponder the image, I let my myself imagine the conversation in heaven between the Father and the Son, just prior to the incarnation, and I watched as the scene unfolded in my mind.

The Father tenderly says, "It's time son."

The Son looks deep into the soul of the Father and says "I know...I am ready to go. This is a good plan, and yet...I am afraid of what will happen on this trip."

I understand my son. We have always been together, but for a little while it will be different. For a little while you must lay aside what you have known and truly be one of them.

Can I take my power? The power I used when we made the universe together.

No my son, you must leave that here.

Can I take my wisdom? The wisdom I have gained in our eternal relationship, the wisdom I have gained in the years I have watched our children upon the earth."

No, you must leave that here. You will grow in wisdom while you are there.

Can I take my knowledge? The knowledge of all things from the beginning of time.

No, you must learn. You must learn how to walk and how to speak. Imagine the eternal Word learning the language of our children.

Can I take my glory? The radiant glory that dazzles and shines.

No. That too you must leave here.

Can I take my all-sufficiency, my independence?

No. You will be entirely helpless. You will not even be able to feed or clothe yourself. You will drink your first meal from a human breast and be utterly dependent upon your earthly parents. You must leave all these things behind. 

But how will I protect myself? We know how violent and unpredictable they can be! What if they try to kill me before our plan is complete?

You won't protect yourself. You will be utterly vulnerable. You will have to trust me. I will watch over you and no evil will harm you until the proper time.

So, what do I take with me then? Can I take nothing from heaven to earth?

Just yourself. Only you, your essence, your spirit poured into a frail human embryo in the womb of a teenage girl. You will start from there and show them Us through one of them. You will show them Us, our Spirit, our Character, by living just as they do. You will be Emmanuel. You will be Us with them.  

Okay Father. I have emptied myself, I am ready to go...

I don't pretend to know what happened in heaven, but I can only imagine. Imagine what it must have been like for the perfect Son to contemplate leaving heaven. Imagine what it must have been like to empty Himself as He prepared to humble Himself and live in a human body. Imagine the miracle of the incarnation again this Christmas!

The immense, eternal, limitless Creator of the Universe poured into a tiny baby in a virgin's womb.

Just imagine!

Words and Meaning

I like words.

I like the way they capture ideas and convey imagination. I have always been fascinated with words and communication. Communication is such a mystery. How is it that the thoughts and intentions of a human soul can find expression in words, spoken and written, and be transmitted to another soul? It amazes me not that there are misunderstandings, but rather that there is any real understanding at all. With the wild diversity in humanity, I am surprised that any real communication, real understanding, ever happens.

I am also intrigued by the way that words can fail us. Words alone, on the screen or the printed page for example, are stripped of their intonation and delivery. They say that only 5 percent of verbal communication is the actual words spoken. The other 95% is the simultaneous non-verbal communication. With the written word, we are left without the visual cues and cultural modifiers that make the intent more transparent. Written words are more open to interpretation and misinterpretation. This raises serious issues for writers as well as those of us who value the written word, or Word.

As a word lover, I have another issue that has been bothering me lately. Words can also take on different meaning over time. Words or phrases can mean one thing to us at a particular time in our lives, and can mean something entirely different to us in a different context. For example, the word "submission". For some this word brings a shudder and dark overtones of subjugation and coercion, for others it might take on sweet overtones of love and proper humility. The way that we read and experience a word varies wildly based on our own experiences of life and the memories we associate with the word.

One word that has taken on particular importance for me is "relationship". I have come to understand that we are inherently relational beings, and this is am important aspect of the image of God in us. God is inherently relational. It is impossible to talk about the Triune God without implicitly acknowledging the relationship at the center of the Godhead. God is three and one. These three personalities are now and have always been in relationship with one another. He created us in Their image. 

In John we are told that the Word became flesh. One of the three eternally existent personalities that make up the Godhead took on human flesh and lived a human life. The Word, the idea behind all ideas, emptied Himself of His divine power and humbled Himself. This is a profound mystery. But this mystery makes the possiblity of a real relationship with God possible. God understands humanity because He has literally walked a mile in our shoes. He bridged the divide between us. His commitment to broaden the circle of relationship beyond the Trinity, to invite us in to the eternal kind of life, went to this unthinkable extent. 

We still struggle with words to describe this reality, even those of us who have tasted and seen that God is good. T.S. Elliot said that words, "crack and sometimes break, under the burden, under the tension, slip, slide, perish, decay with imprecision." But there is a meaning that is deeper than the words. A Word that is deeper than the meanings. 

My Brother

I have a brother.  I've never seen him face to face, but I know him. He died many years before I was born. I have read the story of his life. I have read his words and have grown to love him. I knew him first by reputation. I heard people talking about him. Then, one day, I met him.

I just talked with him again this morning. We talk frequently these days.  I have gotten to know him pretty well through the years, but as we plumb the depths of our relationship I realize that I am nowhere near the bottom.

Today I am wondering about what it was for him when he was growing up. I know that he had a mom and dad as well as brothers and sisters. He was the first born and the circumstances around his birth were somewhat scandalous. There were questions about his legitimacy, his mother's honor and fidelity, his real parentage.

What was it like for him to learn to walk? What was it like for him to learn to speak? How did he learn to obey? I know that he had a body and a brain very much like mine. He was filled with sweat, spit, and blood. He was full of curiosity and questions. He felt sadness, frustration, and anger as well as happiness and joy. He had a great since of humor as well.

He lived a real human life with all of the temptations and trials that we all experience. He lived and learned, making mistakes along the way, but he did it all without sinning. He did it all without breaking fellowship with his Heavenly Father. He showed us that it could be done. He showed us how it could be done.

I have long known that Jesus was God, that Jesus was my King. Now, I long to know him as a man, as my brother.

Gifts and Brussel Sprouts

One of the interesting things about serving the Lord is the seeming delight He takes in surprising us.  Sometimes these are sweet surprises, unexpected blessings or gifts that we are eager to unwrap.  However, there are times when these “gifts” don’t feel quite as much like presents, but more like someone stuck some brussel sprouts onto our plate when we weren’t looking.  I remember as a kid sometimes reaching over and skewering an olive or other attractive morsel from my brother’s plate when he was distracted, but I’m certain I never swiped a brussel sprout.

It is interesting how quick we are to name gifts and trials, blessings and curses.  I know that I label them based on my most immediate experience of them.  If the thing feels good or I experience it as fun then it must be a gift, a blessing, God is smiling down on me.  If the thing is painful or I feel anxious or afraid then it is a trial or even a curse, God is distant or frowning at me.   Of course, hindsight often changes our perspective on things.  After the immediate has passed, we can view the results with more objectivity.  Sometimes in those moments we have a sort of epiphany and realize that the thing we called as curse was really a blessing in disguise.  A gift wrapped in pain or frustration.

I wonder what my experience of life would be if I really believed that everything, absolutely everything, was really under the control, the absolute control, of a being that loves me and cares for me even more and better than I love and care for my kids?  I am not saying that pain and suffering would cease.  These things will be with us until the end of the world.  But if I really believed that God was in charge of pain and suffering, perhaps I could endure them as a necessary part of my training.  I remember a coach in high school who pushed us to run until it hurt and then to run some more.  He knew that we were capable of more than we thought we were able to do.  He pushed us past the end of ourselves and we discovered something beyond the last frontier of endurance.

If everything really comes from my loving Father God, then perhaps the suffering is not simply meaningless pain, but is redemptive.  Perhaps there is a redeeming value, a redeeming purpose in it.  Perhaps God, like the coach, knows something that I don't know.  One of the miracles of the incarnation is that God actually knows our pain.  He learned through His own suffering.  So, when He sovereignly surprises us with suffering He knows what it means; He has been there and done that.  Somehow viewing it from this perspective makes it more bearable even if it is still unpalatable. I won't be looking for pain any more than I'll be surreptitiously skewering brussel sprouts, but perhaps I can stop muttering against the chef.