Bob over at Gratitude and Hoopla has kicked it into high gear lately, coinciding nicely with my Christmas Season writer’s block of the past few days (which hit me in ironic synchronization with a nice compliment Bob recently gave me on his blog regarding my Christmas posts).

His latest offering, reproduced in full here: What Child Is This?. Read this, meditate on it. It’s good.

Into this fallen-down, broken-backed, misused world came you, a pure and simple child. Your coming caused the rage of kings and the trembling of ancient empires, while the meek, the weak, the hurt and hardened, stumbled into the flickering stable of your birth and fell to their calloused knees. No one understood quite yet; you’d set a mystery in motion, and questions were the order of the day. “What child is this?” is all that anyone could say. Now many years have passed, and we have seen much evil and much good since that still moment under an unlikely star. What child is this, destined to pierce humanity’s heart? What child is this, the glory of God in a thimble of flesh? What child is this, servant of a thousand-million sinners? What child is this, born to change the destiny of men and shut the mouth of the accuser? This is the one who put off every particle of power, took on the form of new-born, that light might dawn in a dark world. What child is this? The gift and the Giver all in one. Long foretold, now come. Yes, the time of fulfillment has begun. The day has dawned, after a long night. Come, all you faithful, worship and adore him!

“And they will be thrust into thick darkness.” – Isaiah 8:22

Isaiah 8 is a dark chapter, with its promise of a coming Assyrian invasion of the nation of Israel and its warning of thick darkness coming.

Thank God, the next chapter, chapter 9, begins with a very crucial word.

“But”

But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish. In the former time he brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time he has made glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations.

The people who walked in darkness

have seen a great light;

those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,

on them has light shined.

– Isaiah 9:1-2 (ESV)

“But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish . . . .

There is a glory in the word “But”. In the King James version the word is “Nevertheless”, and, as Matthew Henry states in his commentary on Isaiah 9: “In the worst of times God’s people have a nevertheless to comfort themselves with, something to allay and balance their troubles.”

It is with that word that the text of Isaiah 9 begins, and allays the despair with which Isaiah 8 ended.

“But” . . . Something wonderful is going to happen. Yes, beginning in the lands held in contempt: Zebulun, Naphtali, Galilee of the nations.

God redeems the darkness in our lives. He provides the “but”, the “nevertheless” that saves us. For we were a people living in thick darkness, without hope, invaded, destroyed, and dead. But at Christmas we who have lived in darkness have seen a great light: Jesus Christ, the light of the whole world.

I may post more on Isaiah 9 later. For now, I’m just thanking God for the chapter’s first, crucial word.

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.”

– John 10:27-30 (ESV)

So says our Good Shepherd.

As humans and as believers, all of us (well, I assume this is true of you, it’s certainly true of me) experience some occasional FUD (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt). We wonder: will God really make all things right in the end? Does he really know and care about me? Will those I know and love who are identified with him stay with him, forever?

These are the questions that occupy my prayers. I think about the just-graduated high schoolers I know who are now navigating the waters of college. I think about my children and their friends. As human beings we are often, frankly, a mess. We are, like Peter, unstable as water, and the wheat and the tares both grow tall in our churches.

So I commit these concerns to God in prayer. More and more, lately, his still, small voice reassures me. We may all quake at the siftings of life. Some of us face situations that make us want to run, screaming, even from the Lord, in our foolishness. But he speaks to me, and he tells me “Fear not. I am in control.”

God is not afraid. Neither does he spend time worrying about our circumstances or what we will do. For his children there is the safety and reassurance in his strong hand. No one can snatch us away from him. Who would dare try? He is the greatest of all. There are no “snatch” plans that will work against him. His hand is strong.

As my mind continues its slow, almost imperceptible renewal and transformation toward thinking thoughts that please my King, I am increasingly comforted by this. There are people that I fret over and worry about; especially those from my student ministry past that I no longer have direct influence over. And it is dumb worry. I never really had any control in the first place. God has the control.

And if they are his, his they will remain. That’s the promise of the one who sees the end from the beginning. They are unsnatchable.

I’m so glad he’s in control!

That is one worship song I never get tired of.

I was thinking about angels today. They are mysterious creatures to me; bearers of tidings and warnings, ministers to God’s servants and to our Lord himself in his incarnation, ceaseless worshipers of God – the one who commands their countless hosts.

Someday we will fall down before the Lamb with them, in utter awe and wonder but completely safe in his presence. And we will sing, along with every creature in heaven, on earth, and under the earth, the praise of the Lamb of God who took away the sins of the world.

Amazing . . .

And between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders I saw a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain, with seven horns and with seven eyes, which are the seven spirits of God sent out into all the earth. And he went and took the scroll from the right hand of him who was seated on the throne. And when he had taken the scroll, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each holding a harp, and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. And they sang a new song, saying,

“Worthy are you to take the scroll

and to open its seals,

for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God

from every tribe and language and people and nation,

and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God,

and they shall reign on the earth.”

Then I looked, and I heard around the throne and the living creatures and the elders the voice of many angels, numbering myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, saying, “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!” And the four living creatures said, “Amen!” and the elders fell down and worshiped.

– Revelation 5:6-14 (ESV)

And when the time came for their purification according to the Law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the Law of the Lord, “Every male who first opens the womb shall be called holy to the Lord”) and to offer a sacrifice according to what is said in the Law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons.” Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. And he came in the Spirit into the temple, and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him according to the custom of the Law, he took him up in his arms and blessed God and said,

“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace,

according to your word;

for my eyes have seen your salvation

that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,

a light for revelation to the Gentiles,

and for glory to your people Israel.”

And his father and his mother marveled at what was said about him. And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.”

– Luke 2:22-35 (ESV)

Simeon is a favorite of mine, and I’ve written about him before. I’m amazed at the faith and faithfulness of this man, for whom the crowning joy of his life was simply a glimpse of Jesus. Thus was God’s promise fulfilled to him, and so he was ready to die in peace.

I once had a New Testament teacher claim that Simeon probably told every beaming new mother that he met in the temple that their son was the Messiah. In other words, Simeon was just a kindly and amiable old man. At the time that seemed “off”. Now it seems preposterous. Read Simeon’s words to Mary; they were not words of comfort.

Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.

Simeon had wisdom from the Lord, and his words recorded in Luke carry great import. During Christmas we often marvel at the wonderful event of the birth of Christ, and with the angels we sing “peace on earth, good will toward men upon whom his favor rests”. It’s easy to forget that the price of our peace was Calvary.

The birth of Jesus was the pivotal event in the history of the universe up to that time. And it was not an event that allows us to remain by the manger cooing at our infant Lord. Jesus came to accomplish a great salvation; the great salvation of a race blinded, bent and broken by sin so grievous that it took the incarnation of God himself to remedy it. This salvation cannot be ignored; Jesus came to earth and the result is the rising and falling of many, the revelation of the thoughts and intents of our human hearts, the final identification of each one of us. In the end, we stand either with our Lord, identified with him and his cross of suffering, or we stand with those who rejected him and put him on the cross and killed him. There is nowhere else to stand, no middle option.

If you don’t know him, may Christmas be a time of new birth for you. May it be the time of your rising!

Merry Christmas.

Join me today in praise of the one who chooses the weak, the small, the insignificant things of this world to become mangers – humble vessels for his glory.

For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are . . .

– 1 Corinthians 1:25-28 (ESV)

Have you ever felt a compulsion to encourage someone, especially someone you don’t know?

This happens to me sometimes. A few months ago I felt compelled to encourage someone. It was a person I don’t know well but she is a percussionist in the “Big Church” worship band and I remembered at that service thinking that she had played really well. Percussionists aren’t often noticed and I felt like God wanted me to say something to her about how well she played. So I did.

Tonight she reminded me of that. We probably haven’t spoken to each other from that day months ago till now, but she mentioned to me tonight how encouraged she was that day to have someone compliment her playing. I would not have thought that a few words spoken months ago would be remembered, but she said that it meant a lot to her to be encouraged like that.

I say this not to pat myself on the back. Encouragement is easy to do. It took no special effort, really, on my part. In addition, what I said to her was the truth; encouragement should always be based on the truth. And speaking the truth, when it’s encouraging, is easy. What I did was a very small thing.

But I write this because it is an illustration to me of how so much in our lives rises and falls on the small things. We make thousands of choices every day, and it’s mind-boggling to think of how many choices might have spun the other way if spurred on by a kind word or a loving exhortation.

People are dying for encouragement. A word spoken truly and kindly to another is often embued with power beyond what we can guess. Encouraging words are rare, and thus are treasured in the hearts of those who hear them, where they sparkle like jewels in a dimly lit cave.

For this is the way we are made. Wanting encouragment and even praise is not necessarily a bad thing; children naturally want the attention and praise of their Father. Our hearts long for the day when we will hear the words “well done” spoken by the One who loves us, who gave himself for us, and who does all things well.

In the meantime, we should be generous in the “well done”s that we give others. For we never can know the impact our words might have.

Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.

– 1 Thessalonians 5:11 (ESV)

Make us holy . . .

Holy. It is a word that, for me, is packed with significance. I’m not sure of all the meanings for this word, but one of the most common, from a New Testament point of view, is “set apart”.

If you are a Christian, do you often think of yourself as “holy”? I find that somewhat foreign to my day to day thought processes. But I know by faith that I am set apart, I am holy. God in his love and grace sets us apart, puts us on display, uses us, even in our weakness, to glorify him. If you are his child, you are holy.

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.

– 1 Peter 2:9 (ESV)

Notice the words used here by Peter: “chosen”, “royal”, “holy”. And, of course, we are. We are holy. And we did not gain this holiness, this royalty, through anything we’ve done. We were chosen and adopted. Being adopted by the King makes us royal.

I don’t know if I understand all of this, frankly. But as I ponder the meaning of Christmas, I understand this anew: Christ came to earth to make us holy. We could not do it on our own. But he chose us and he has made us a royal priesthood, a holy nation, and we belong to him.

It started on the holy night of Christmas. Can you hear it? In the darkness of a quiet night a baby cries. And the demons quake. It has begun: the Holy One has come to earth to set apart for himself those he has made holy. And nothing will stop him from accomplishing his purposes: to veil himself in the injured flesh of humanity, to walk with us, to be our Immanuel, to free us from the bond of sin. He is calling to us, to come out of the darkness and into his marvelous light.

So that we might be made holy!

I really like this song.

It’s almost midnight, and I should be sleeping. I have a big weekend coming up and rest would help me do better. But somehow I find the composition of these late night posts somewhat therapeutic.

Of course, as blessed as I am, I shouldn’t need any therapy. But I’m also a member of the human race, which should just about clear up any questions about my mental health. We’re all crazy, you know.

Band practice was rough tonight. I think I need a miracle to play well tomorrow night. I’m not even sure I care if anyone else thinks I’m playing well. God hears me. And I’d like to play well for him. I believe God likes it when we do our best for him.

And our best can be very, very humble sometimes. Like the manger. The Lord of all the Universe visited us, and we stuck him out back with the cattle. But, as the song says, we didn’t really know. I wonder what it would be like to have been there! The shepherds were, indeed, granted a great honor. In all the re-enactments we see and songs we sing regarding the birth of Christ, I think sometimes we overlook the fact that God specifically and purposefully sent his heavenly host to herald the birth of his son . . . to shepherds. It would be like God coming to earth today and the first people that get the news are all the guys sacking the groceries. Wouldn’t we think that was strange?

Strange to us, because we’re bent and don’t understand what true greatness really is.

“Bring your peace into our violence, bid our hungry souls be filled”

Christmas is . . . enormous! Not because of the spectacle and the stuff. It’s enormous because God brought the Prince of Peace into this violent world, knowing that the brunt of our violence and hatred would fall on him. He brought the Bread of Life to the whole world, to feed our hunger. We have only to accept his peace and his filling.

Something started that dark night, in a stable in a crowded city, while shepherds passed what they thought would be another boring night watching their flocks. It was something enormous, something wonderful! The Word of God was spoken in flesh and blood. And Heaven’s silence was broken by the beautiful and – think of it – frightening sound of angels singing of God’s glory and his promise of peace on earth.

May this be an enormous Christmas for you. Merry Christmas!

Sometimes I get so homesick . . . for website that writes essays the Home I’ve never seen.

It’s the Christmas season, and these lyrics reminded me tonight of the crushing weight of exile we humans have known since the fall. I believe that the Christian feels it most of all. We are strangers and aliens here.

At the time of the birth of Jesus the people that he came to were experiencing the silence of God. They were exiles in their own land, experiencing the oppression of the occupying Roman army, and the oppression of sin, and of creation itself, under the curse of the Fall.

Christmas is not just a time of gifts, although through gifts we remember the Gift our Father gave us. So much more, Christmas is a remembrance and celebration of rescue, of the first days of the invasion of divinity in bodily form into our human condition. It is the birth of Immanuel, come to ransom captive Israel. And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

That’s Christmas. It’s the celebration of the humbling of Christ, a humbling beyond our comprehension that finds him as a baby in a dirty stable. And we who are exiled adore this precious little one, so small and yet sent to rescue us all. The love, the grace, the infinite power of God was delivered to our doorstep in such a small package!

I hope your Christmas season finds you happy and among friends and family. But if you feel the loneliness of exile and the oppressive weight of your brokenness, know that you are not alone. I’ve felt it too. And when I did, years ago, I knelt and received the gift of Christmas, the Christ who died for me even when I was his enemy.

Kneel by the stable and adore. For, behold, though just a baby, here is your Champion who fights for you. He is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. He lived, he died, and he lives again, ever ready to save.

May I remember these truths this Christmas season.

Welcome to our world, Lord Jesus!