The Word Became Flesh

Focal Passages: Luke 2:1-14; John 1:1-14

There is no expectant mother traveling to a distant village.

No Bethlehem.

No inn, crowded or otherwise.

There are no shepherds tending their sheep in the fields.

No angels proclaiming good news and glad tidings.

There is no star. No wise men from the east.

There is no baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes and asleep in a manger.

That’s Luke’s story to tell.

When he wrote his gospel, John takes the Bible’s Christmas story to a different level, focusing not on the earthly scene, but on the eternal reality it represents. The first Chapter of John tells the Christmas story from heaven’s viewpoint.

While Matthew and Luke describe how and where Jesus was born, John explains who Jesus was and is: the eternal Word…the Creator…the Light entering darkness…God becoming flesh.

John tells us about the one who came into the world to give us the right to become children of God.

If Matthew and Luke give us the method by which Jesus came to live among us, John shares the divine meaning and purpose behind the baby in a manger. He tells us why. It is no less a Christmas story than the one that will be repeated a million times in the days to come.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. (John 1:1-3)

It’s difficult for finite minds like ours to grasp the true nature of God. John sees the one he calls “the Word” not as an idea or thought, but as the living expression of God himself. The Word did not observe creation from a distance. The same hands that formed the stars would be wrapped in human flesh, grasping the offered forefinger of his mother. The voice that spoke with such clarity as it spoke the universe into existence, would cry in hunger in the middle of the night.

John viewed Jesus as the word of God. God’s revealed word. Present as God and with God from the time before creation.

Christmas is not merely the story of a baby being born—that happens every day. Christmas is the story of the Creator choosing to identify with you and me in every way. Choosing to draw near to his creation, not in the magnificent and extraordinary, but in the mundane and ordinary. The Word chose to come quietly and humbling, as a child.

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to his own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem, the town of David, because he belong to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. (Luke 2:1-5)

An emperor’s powerful decree set history in motion, another phase of God’s ordained and eternal plan. The dusty roads of Galilee and Judea brought a young couple on the path of ancient prophecy. Not human administration, but divine orchestration.

Bethlehem, a small, easily overlooked village, would become the agent of God’s purpose. The Word who shaped time and space, now entered it. A heavenly throne morphed into a manger.

While they were there the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. (Luke 2:6-7)

No trumpet sounded. No palace gates opened. No one rolled out the red carpet. The Son of God arrived in silent wonder. The Word rested where animals fed. Swaddled in soft and simple cloth, held by the trembling arms of a first-time mother. The world he made had no room for him. His creation failed to recognize his presence.

Heaven, however, watched closely every moment. Heard every cry that echoed with the sound of redemption. Light had entered the darkness.

In him was life, and that life was the light of all men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it. The true light that gives light to every person was coming into the world. He was in the world , and though to the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. (John 1:4-5,9-10)

A child was born. He arrived as light and life. Where sin cast its long shadow, he brought truth. Where fear held sway, he brought hope. Where death claimed victory, he brought life.

Shrouded in darkness, the world did not welcome him, but it could not extinguish the light. Heaven chose to amplify it.

That Light arrived not in palaces or courts…not as a gift for kings or a performance limited to the world’s elite. No. It arrived in fields beneath the open sky, announced to unassuming shepherds working in the fields.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks by 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 of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Suddenly, a great company of the heavenly hosts appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace to men
on whom his favor rests.”
(Luke 2:8-14)

While the world slept, heaven danced. While the earth remained deaf to the Word, the angels sang. Hear God tell you the same thing he told the shepherds. “Do not be afraid.” Celebrate the good news. Embrace the joy God offers all of us. A savior has been born…Christ the Lord. When your heart’s darkness gets driven out by the light, you can give glory to God. You can find the peace God that only comes from becoming a child of God.

Yet to all who received him, those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God…The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only who came from the father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:11-12,14)

On that night in Bethlehem, grace lay in a manger and truth had a heartbeat. God entered our world to live as we live. To experience what we experience. To show us how to live. To be the Word and Light.

The baby with no permanent place to stay came to bring us home with him. To embrace us as his children.

The Christmas story as told by Luke and amplified by John is the penultimate chapter in what Archbishop Fulton Sheen called “the greatest story every told.” A story culminated with Jesus’ sacrificial death and resurrection. It is God’s gift to you and me.

For God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life. (John 3:16)

Author’s Note

The world needs Christmas. I hope you find the time to ease the frenetic pace to a slow walk with family and friends. Set aside the worry and the uncertainty and enjoy the moment. I pray that you experience those quieter moments this holiday season.

The world needs Christmas. Not the tinsel and the trees, but the peace and goodwill about which the angels sang. This year may God give you a genuine sense of his presence and his love not just on Christmas morning every day thereafter. May realizing his presence and love bring you and yours his peace and goodwill.

Merry Christmas!

Thinking Points

John presents Christmas from heaven’s perspective, less about the person of Jesus and more about his purpose. How does viewing Jesus as the eternal Word change the way you understand the meaning of Christmas in your own life?

 

“The world did not recognize him.” In what ordinary, quiet, or unexpected ways might Christ be present today that you are tempted to overlook or ignore?

 

The angels announced peace to those on whom God’s favor rests. What fears or burdens might you need to release this Christmas in order to truly find the peace Jesus came to bring?

The Prophets’ Christmas

Focal Passage: Isaiah 7:14 & 9:6-7; and Micah 5:2-5

It’s the Christmas season. The time when God stepped into the world with love, grace, humility and hope.

Through the years, I’ve written about Christmas from every angle and angel. I’ve studied the coming of the Messiah through the eyes of his earthly parents, the shepherds, the magi, and paranoid Herod, a priest name Simon and an elderly, devout woman named Anna. I’ve even written a more fanciful piece about the birth of Jesus from the eyes of a lamb.

As I looked to begin my study this year of the moment God sent his son into the world, I want to look at that moment from the eyes of the Old Testament prophets.

Scripture teaches that the moment God opted to grant humanity free will, he knew we would use that freedom to rebel against his plan for our lives. From the beginning of time, then, God had to find a way to bring his lost children back to him, despite the spiritual abyss we would create between us and God by our sinfulness. Before he put the world in place and set it spinning on its axis, he planned on Jesus.

Look at what Paul tells Timothy.

He has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. The grace was given to us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our savior Christ Jesus who has destroyed death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. (2 Timothy 1:9)

Redemption was not an afterthought or a Plan B. It was purposeful and intentional. Therefore, God needed to convince us of our need for him and introduce to us the one he would send to show us the way home.

Enter the prophets. As God gave them words to speak, he wove through their prophecies a thread of redemptive hope with its beginnings in a Bethlehem manger.

The prophets lived centuries apart from one another. They lived amid completely different circumstances. Led different lives. Wrote in different eras. Served up judgment on a platter to different kings. They spoke God’s word of divine judgment, repentance and restoration to different generations.

Much like the blind men discovering an elephant, each prophet understood God’s Anointed One in part, but never in whole.

They never met Mary or shook the hand of Joseph. They never heard the angels sing. They never walked the streets of Bethlehem. They never felt the joy the shepherds felt. Never marveled alongside the magi. Never held the baby in their arms. Never saw what they foretold come to pass.

Yet, thanks to a revelation from God’s spirit, they all pointed in somewhat different ways to the same moment; to the same someone. They saw who he would be. Knew what he would do. Understood the titles he would carry. They all spoke of Jesus, even when they never knew his name.

And on the night Jesus was born, their words—scattered across centuries—were suddenly fulfilled in the form of a swaddled infant, in the outskirts of an obscure village, in a makeshift crib filled with hay.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. (John 1:14)

That moment began the fulfillment of every prophetic word spoken for hundreds of years prior to that first Christmas morning.

Isaiah’s Whisper

The prophet Isaiah’s prophetic message almost 750 years before the birth of Jesus came at a time of national fear. His people faced a looming and hostile invasion, political collapse and spiritual confusion. In that sense, Isaiah’s words feel like a quiet voice spoken in a dark moment. Almost a whisper carried to people who were afraid of and unsure about the future.

While he warned of judgment and called for repentance, he promised that God had not forgotten them. He shared with them the hope of the Messiah and the arrival of the kingdom of God. Isaiah spoke about a miraculous moment in time.

A virgin will conceive and bear a son; and they will call his name Immanuel. (Isaiah 7:14)

God’s message through Isaiah didn’t stop there, as if the miraculous birth was the climax of the Creator’s eternal work. God revealed to his prophet another nuanced layer.

To us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom establishing it and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this. (Isaiah 9:6-7)

Isaiah’s prophecies waited for more than seven centuries. On the night of Jesus’ birth, his words were no longer ink on faded parchment. His words were a baby, born to a faithful carpenter and young woman whose heart found favor with God.

Micah’s Confidence

The prophetic ministries of Isaiah and Micah overlapped in time and circumstance. Micah saw the same corruption in Jerusalem. Felt the same fear of an Assyrian invasion. Yet, he confidently condemned the injustice he saw among leaders and spoke of the pending judgment upon a people who had turned their backs on God.

He stood in the gap and told the people that, despite the hardships to come, God promised a future ruler from Bethlehem who would be their good shepherd and herald a time of peace. This “messianic hope” appears especially in Micah 5:2–5, spoken as reassurance that God would raise a true king after Israel’s failed leadership. Look at the words God gave him to speak.

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from the old and ancient times. He will stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. And they will live securely, for then his greatness will reach the ends of the earth. And he will be our peace… (Micah 5:2, 4-5)

For generations, the small and unimpressive village of Bethlehem sat unnoticed in the Judean hillside, but God, 700 years before, had written its future. Bethlehem would play a role in God’s plan through the cries of an unlikely king and the redemptive work of Jesus Christ.

Though many other prophets shared God’s word about the ministry and mission of the coming Messiah, Isaiah and Micah are the only two who described details of his birth. Did any of these prophets fully understand the whole picture? I doubt it.

Do you remember when Jesus sent his disciples throughout Galilee, telling them they would be given power to preach and to heal in his name? They returned from that first century mission trip amazed how God had used their preaching and ministry to bring salvation to so many people.

After praying a prayer of gratitude to the Father for the work they had done, Jesus, filled with joy, pulled his disciples aside. Listen to what he told them.

Then he turned to his disciples and said privately, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I tell you that many prophets and kings wanted to see what you see, but did not see it; to hear what you hear but did not hear it. (Luke 10:23-24)

So, if the prophets never saw or heard the whole picture, why do they matter? Why do the partial images they revealed about Jesus’ birth and life and death and resurrection matter to you and me on this side of that first Christmas?

It matters because Christmas is not an isolated event. It is the beginning of the rest of the story.

Every promise—
every symbol—
every sacrifice—
every prophecy—
every hope—

pointed toward Bethlehem and Immanuel, God with us.

The prophets did not live to see it, but you have. Listen to John’s words again.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.

Then, look again at the words of Jesus.

Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. Blessed are the ears that hear what you hear.

You see, Isaiah’s world was not a lot different from our own. Hostility. Political uncertainty. Spiritual confusion. His words still feel like a quiet whisper spoken in a dark moment to people unsure of the future.
His message does not change.

To you a child is born. To you a son is given.

Can you see it? Can you hear it?

That’s Christmas!

If you are a believer in Christ, the prophets words link the past to your present. God’s promises are your truth. They are confirmation of God’s plan of redemption through the baby in a manger who grew to be your substitute on a cross–the living and resurrected Jesus. You are blessed to have seen what you have seen and heard what you heard.

If your Christmas lacks the meaning you see in those who believe, the visions of the prophets are your markers. The waypoints on a spiritual journey that will reveal the depth of God’s love for you in the truth of Jesus Christ. The promises of the prophets are fulfilled in Jesus. Their longing can be your joy as it is mine. See it. Hear it. Your blessing awaits.

Let this be our Christmas prayer for 2025.

“Lord, thank you for speaking through the prophets and for fulfilling every promise in Jesus. Let the hope that sustained them also sustain me. Teach me to trust your timing and rejoice that your Word always becomes flesh. Amen.”

Thinking Points

How does thinking about Christmas through the voices of the prophets deepen your understanding of God’s long-planned redemption?

 

How has the Word “become flesh” in your personal story? In what ways has that baby in a manger changed your heart and your world view?

 

What keeps me from recognizing the blessings I already “see and hear,” blessings the prophets longed for but never experienced?

 

How might embracing the continuity between the prophets’ longing and Christ’s coming reshape the way I enter this Christmas season?

You Are What You Think

Background Passages: Psalm 1:1-4, Jeremiah 17:7-8, Philippians 4:8, and 2 Corinthians 10:3-5

The route we typically took to my parents’ house from Pasadena to Ropesville was honestly not the most scenic drive. While there is something to be said for the stark beauty of the endless highway and cotton fields, the trip that we took countless times was little more than the occasional mesa, a random Dairy Queen and a lot of flat, empty space.

I recall making that drive early in our marriage before children as we sat in silence while the country droned by. I felt Robin’s eyes on me long before she asked the question every husband dreads.

“What are you thinking?”

Every husband knows my response. “Nothing.” Also, as every husband knows, that’s exactly what I was thinking in that exact moment and in most moments of solitude. Absolutely nothing.

Comedian Mark Gungor would say, “I was in my Nothing Box.” (If you’ve never seen that YouTube video about how the brains of men and women work, it’s worth the view.)

The Bible talks a lot about our thought life. Though it’s slightly out of context, Solomon lets us know in Proverbs 23:7 that “As a man thinks, so he is.”

In other words, you are what you think. Whatever we choose to concentrate on, spend our time thinking about, will impact the way we choose to live.

Hear the instructive word of the Psalmist.

Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way 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. Not so the wicked. They are like chaff that the wind blows away. (Psalm 1:1-4)

As the opening hymn of the Psalm, the passage answers some amazingly deep questions about life. Who am I going to be? Who is God? Where can I find true contentment and happiness? What road should I take in life? What is my purpose?

It is a call to be blessed. To find contentment and joy, regardless of life’s circumstances. The passage puts us squarely in the middle of the fork in the road. The first path is walked by the wicked, the sinners and the mockers of all that is holy.

Jesus might have called it Broadway. He said in Matthew 7:13, “…For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.”

That first step down the path of the wicked and the way of the sinner always begin with a thought, an idea, a desire that pops in our head that entices and seduces us. We begin to think walking that path would be so much more fun, so much more profitable, so much more popular, that we can’t help but start the journey. As we think, so we are. It doesn’t take long for our thoughts to take hold in our hearts. Now, instead of just thinking about things we shouldn’t, we’re doing them.

Sadly, Paul and I have much in common on this point. I suspect most of us do.

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do…For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do–this I keep doing. (Romans 7:15,18-19)

We won’t find contentment on the broad road described by Jesus or the way of the wicked described by the Psalmist. Rather, we’ll end up feeling more and more like Paul. We don’t intend to walk that path, but the world makes it look easy and appealing.

Blessedness (joy and contentment) comes, according to Psalm 1, when we don’t follow in the footsteps of those who do evil or take the path sinners take or travel among the scoffers who know nothing of God and his grace or goodness. It is the road to destruction…to chaff. An existence in which we are blown in whatever direction the wind blows. Never truly grounded. Always acting on a whim.

The Psalmist said the one who is blessed will find a different road to travel. In that same passage in Matthew, Jesus tells us to use the narrow gate and the “narrow road that leads to life and only a few find it.” As Robert Frost said, “…the road less traveled.”

Blessedness flows to the one whose “delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night.” Delight is a heart response to something or someone of beauty and value, in this case, God’s word and its truth. The word “delight” is used typically in scripture to describe the life in which God’s purpose and choice are in view.

It is joy, pleasure and satisfaction that comes when we abide in his word and will. Such delight comes only from delving deeply into scripture, finding its relevance for our lives and acting daily upon it.

The one who thinks only about the truths and promises of God found in his word is the one who walks in the path of the righteous and stands in the way of the faithful or sits in the company of those who trust in God’s word. You see, as a man thinks, so he is.

If we think of the things of God, those will be the attributes ingrained in us. It is an immutable truth repeated time and time again in scripture.

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthy things. (Colossians 3:1-2)

Then, look at what Paul tells the Philippian church about the way we ought to think.

He begins the passage by exhorting his readers to “rejoice.” To find joy. To find contentment. To find a peace that “transcends all understanding…” Then, he tells them how.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. (Philippians 4:4-8)

Paul expresses in such a beautiful and poetic way how our thoughts ought to be directed.

Jesus even alludes to it in his Beatitudes when he says, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”

Given that the heart was viewed in the Jewish culture as the center of thought and will, Jesus says those whose thoughts are pure, whose motives for every decision are aligned with God’s word and will—these are the souls who will see God at work in their lives. These are the folks who find God in every circumstance of life—good or bad.

You are what you think.

Paul shared one more thought in his second letter to the Corinthian church which feels applicable here.

Though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. (2 Corinthians 10:3-5)

Don’t you love that last phrase?

…take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ…

The Greek word used for “take captive” means “to control, to conquer, to bring into submission.” We bring into submission every thought so that it conforms to the teachings of Christ. We conquer our tendency to dwell on things we shouldn’t be thinking about. We control those wicked thoughts by not letting them take root in our heart and soul.

The good news is that the Psalmist tells us how to do this.

We take captive our thoughts ”by meditating on the law day and night.”

Our hearts desire must be to embed ourselves so deeply in God’s word and all that it teaches us that we have little time to think of anything else. To be so grounded in scripture, that every temptation is answered by the Spirit’s whispered reminder of what has been taught us through God’s word…just as Jesus refuted every temptation from Satan with a word from scripture.

It’s not enough to just hear scripture read to you in Sunday School or from the pulpit. We need to spend time during the week studying God’s word, especially when the pervasive garbage of the world tries so hard to infiltrate our every thought.

The Rev. Charles Spurgeon said, “A Bible that is falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.”

I’ll revert to the Proverbs, an ancient equivalent to the modern day “garbage in, garbage out.” Proverbs 15:14 says that “A wise person is hungry for knowledge, while the fool feeds on trash.”

You are what you think.

I like the idea the Psalmist conveys when he says what it is like to be one who immerses himself in God’s word.

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.

Jeremiah shares a similar thought.

Bless is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit. (Jeremiah 17:7-8)

You must love this tree metaphor as much as I do.

Notice that the tree is planted by the stream. It didn’t grow up there on its own accord. It was planted. Planted means to cause to take root. The Hebrew word used here more closely translates as “transplanted.” To cause to take root after moving from one environment to another more suited for growth.

I love that idea in the context of this Psalm that talks about the way of the wicked opposed to the way of the righteous seen in the one who dwells in God’s word. That person is transplanted from the path of wicked, the sinner and the scoffer to live and grow next to the living water found in God’s word through Christ Jesus.

A tree’s roots run deep, searching always for the moisture and nutrients that fuel its growth. The deeper its roots go, the more sturdy and stable it becomes , more capable of withstanding any wind that blows. (In contrast, it takes very little wind to blow away the chaff.)

That’s how it is with one grounded deeply in scripture. She finds the spiritual water and nutrients to grow and mature in Christ. And, like the tree, that kind of growth takes time. We live in a time of instant gratification, but the Christian life is a process of growing and learning. Each minute we stop looking to the Bible for our strength is a lost moment in our spiritual lives.

Notice also that the tree yields fruit. Our time spend in studying God’s word will always point us to ministry and service. It is the understanding of what God requires of us that propels us to care for and serve others.

The message of this Psalm hit me squarely between the eyes this week.

You are what you think.

As we walk through each day, let’s meditate on God’s word…day and night. Think about the things of God. When we do, it’s so much easier to…

Be the tree.

Peace and Goodwill

Background Passages: Luke 2:9-14; Philippians 2:5-8; Ephesians 2:8; John 14:27; Isaiah 26:3; Philippians 4:11-13

You may know Henry Wadsworth Longfellow as the author of The Song of Hiawatha or Paul Revere’s Ride. One of America’s best and most prolific poets, Longfellow penned many poems, novels and anthologies. I found out recently that he also translated many European literary works into English, including Dante’s The Divine Comedy.

Like many poets, Longfellow experienced his fair share of tragedy. His first wife, Mary Potter, died suddenly while he was overseas. After a long courtship, he married Mary Frances Appleton in 1843. Together, they had six children. By all accounts, the marriage was a happy one until Frances died tragically in a fire in 1861.

With the outbreak of the American Civil war, Longfellow became a stout abolitionist. His oldest son, Charley enlisted on the Union side only to be wounded severely. In December of 1863, Longfellow found himself entering the Christmas season as a widower, with five dependent children and his oldest son on the brink of death.

As he tended to his son’s wounds, imagining the sounds of gunfire and cannon that injured him, he heard the bells of the local church ringing on Christmas morning. Longfellow sat down that evening, intent upon losing himself for a few hours in his writing. The result of that late night session was a poem entitled, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. Throughout the poem, the poet seemed to believe that the strife of the world had drowned out all hope of peace on earth and driven out any semblance of goodwill toward men.

Until he penned the last verse.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;”
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, goodwill to men.

A few years later, the poem was set to music by British organist John Baptiste Calkin, becoming the familiar Christmas carol we know today.

The song, particularly the version sung by Casting Crowns, is beautifully poignant, confronting us of the turmoil of our world while also reminding us that God, through his son, offers peace and goodwill to a troubled world. Luke, the gospel writer, introduces the phrase to us in his account of the birth of Jesus. However, I might suggest to Longfellow that the phrase does not mean what you thought it meant.

When the angels sang their praise, they were not exalting God for bringing about the absence of conflict and harmony among all people. They were praising the father for his steps in bringing about, as Paul says in Philippians 4:7, “a peace that surpasses all understanding.”

Let’s take a closer look at the story as it develops.

After Mary gave birth in the dingy confines of a cave turned stable, God sent an angel…one angel…to announce the birth of his son to shepherds tending their flock in the hills overlooking Bethlehem.

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.” (Luke 2:9-12)

It is after this initial explanation that the angelic host appeared singing in heavenly harmony.

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” (Luke 2:13-14)

Longfellow and the King James Version deeply ingrained the phrase as “peace on earth, goodwill toward men.” The New International Version of the phrase I used here reads differently. However, it is possibly more accurate to the original Greek, according to biblical scholars.

“Glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

Amid his tragic circumstances, I’m not sure peace and goodwill meant the same thing to Longfellow as it did to Luke. As we enter this season of advent, maybe it’s a good idea for us to consider what the angels proclaimed to the shepherds with such joy and happiness.

First, the object of their apparent joy was not the anticipated peace and goodwill, but God who reigns in the highest heaven. By sending his son as a baby born in a lowly manger, God finally put in motion his path of redemption which he had planned before he breathed life into his creation.

Jesus, God’s son, would live his life among us, demonstrating how we are to live the life that God envisioned for us, ultimately giving his life in exchange for my sin and yours.

As Paul is urging the Philippians to model their lives after Christ, he tells them:

…have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on the cross.” (Philippians 2:5-8)

The angels recognized that the child born in Bethlehem was God’s great gift to a lost and troubled world. It would be this baby wrapped in cloth and resting in a manager filled with hay that would through his life, death and resurrection make joy of salvation available and attainable by all people. (See Luke 2:10)

For God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16)

It was this act of great love and grace that brought the angels to their feet in rising chorus to give all the glory and praise to a Father/God for what he had just done. The cries of a child in Bethlehem still reverberate through the lives of all who believe.

Glory to God in the highest heaven!

I was reminded again of the beauty of that gift when my eight-year-old granddaughter Lena called us over Facetime to tell us that she had made her faith commitment to Jesus. As I took in the expression of joy on her smiling face, I could hear the angels sing.

Glory to God in the highest heaven, indeed! For every man, woman and child who trusts Jesus as savior, the angels still sing God’s praise. Jesus told us as much in his parable of the lost coin.

In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents. (Luke 15:10)

While the heavens were praising God, the angels acknowledged the peace now available to those who find favor with God. That’s an important distinction. The angel who first appeared to the shepherds told them a child was born in Bethlehem who would be the long-anticipated Messiah. He announced it as good news of great joy to all people. The Messiah. Sent by God. Making salvation available to anyone and everyone.

However, peace is the gift offered to those “on whom his (God’s) favor rests.”

Good news offered to all. Peace offered only to those on whom his favor rests. It begs the question then, on whom does God’s favor rest? God’s favor rests on “whoever believes in him,” according to John 3:16. This is the gospel message that the angels shared. This is the good news.

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not of your own doing, but it is the gift of God. (Ephesians 2:8)

I see a connection here through the definition of grace I learned as a teenager. Grace is defined as God’s unmerited or undeserved favor. When I put my faith and trust in Jesus, I entered into right relationship with God only by his grace. Only when he extended this unmerited favor to me upon my faith commitment to him.

Because that grace was extended, because God rests his favor upon me, I find his promised peace. It’s the same peace Jesus promised his disciples in the upper room before he was crucified.

Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27)

Every person in this world, whether or not he or she is a believer in Christ, longs for peace. The difference in the peace of a believer and a nonbeliever is where they acquire their peace. A nonbeliever depends on his own resourcefulness or his own resources. He seeks peace through social causes, financial gain or temporary distractions.

Believers find peace not from things the world offers, but from God. Where earthly peace depends on circumstances and individual ability, godly peace does not. God’s peace proclaimed and promised by the angels singing to shepherds transcends our circumstances.

We live lives that can in one moment be divine and in the next be dreadful. The peace God provides goes beyond those up and down seasons of life. This ability to find contentment, to live in the moment in the joy of Christ, regardless of life’s circumstance is completely dependent upon the depth of our faith and trust in God’s presence and promise.

Look at what Isaiah said.

You (God) will keep the mind that is dependent on you in perfect peace, for it is trusting in you. (Isaiah 26:3)

God will keep our hearts and minds at peace when we remain dependent upon him in all things by trusting in him through all things. Peace is not surrendering to the circumstance. Peace is surrendering everything in every circumstance to God. Trusting that he will be with us always…even when we “walk through the valley of the shadow of death.”

Paul addressed the issue in his letter to the Philippian church.

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. (Philippians 4: 11-13)

We find peace and contentment only when we know that God will give us the strength we need to live faithfully in any and every situation. It comes when we listen to the words of Jesus when he says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” When he says, “Do not be afraid.”

I’m certain you will read the Christmas story this year or have it read to you. I pray that you will not only hear the angels singing to the shepherds, but that you will join them in giving glory to God in the highest heaven for through his son he gives peace to those on whom his favor rests.

As he listened to those bells on Christmas day, Longfellow understood one thing when faced with all the hardships he encountered. “God is not dead, nor does he sleep.” Because he is ever with us, we can give Glory to God on high for the miraculous gift of his son Jesus. The one who brings peace to those on whom his favor rests. To all who believe in his name.

I Can Do All This

Background Passages: Philippians 4:4-13

Richard Swenson, author of Contentment: The Secret to Lasting Calm, tells a story about his seven-year-old granddaughter who accidentally stepped in a pile of dog droppings with both tennis shoes. Together, she and her dad found a suitable stick, sat down on the curb and began scraping the mess from the treads of her shoes.

After a few minutes the little girl stopped. She looked at her Dad and then at the brown stuff now piled in the gutter. “You know, Dad,” she said. “This would be a very good meal for a dung beetle.”

Swenson pointed out that the contentment range of little children is a mile wide from end to end. He uses the term “joy beacons” to describe a child’s ability to always see the silver lining. He said, “The laughter from just one child is enough to lift a crowd of fifty. Where do they get this capacity…to make happy connections between a shoe full and the disgusting culinary habits of ugly beetles?”

Psychologists tell us that four-year-olds laugh 26 times a day more than adults. That fact alone makes it clear why Jesus would occasionally spent time with children in his lap and arms. I think the human side of him needed, at times, to be reminded that God gave our hearts an amazing capacity for delight and contentment, even in the most difficult of times. Children, God’s ambassadors to the cynic, find equal contentment, according to Swenson, “in a puddle or a pigeon, a worm or a waffle.”

It’s this idea of contentment that has been on my heart lately. When did we lose that sense of delight and contentment? More importantly, why do we lose it?

Richard Carlson, author of Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff, suggested that our discontent comes from external circumstances. “We tend to believe that if we were somewhere else—on vacation, with another partner, in a different career, a different home, a different circumstance, or if we could somehow go back to the good ol’ days—somehow we would be happier and more content.” Simply put, Carlson said, “We wouldn’t.”

Psychologists will gladly tell us how to find contentment. Some of their thoughts are helpful. Some are not. I think to find the truth about contentment requires a trip to a first century house prison in the middle of Rome.

As first century prisons go, this one wasn’t all that bad. Paul had certainly experienced worse. Acts 28 tells us the apostle found himself under house arrest, chained at times to a bored Roman guard. Because the judicial system of the time did not provide three square meals a day, the prisoner was forced to provide his own housing and support. Limited in his ability to ply his trade as a tentmaker, he had little to sustain his daily life. Most of what he had on which to survive came from money and supplies shared by his friends and followers.

The worst part of his confinement for Paul must have been the restrictions on his ability to share his faith. To do the work God had called him to do. He could have visitors and speak freely about his savior within the walls. He could not spend time in the synagogue or the local market talking about his favorite subject…Jesus. Though his reach was limited, God’s was not. Paul continued to open the hearts of those who heard his message.

Given all he had experienced that brought him to this place and all he experienced while locked behind four walls, one might think Paul struggled to find contentment. Apparently not.

While imprisoned, Paul wrote several letters to the churches he helped establish. One of those churches was in Philippi, a Roman city in Macedonia. It was a letter thanking them for their contribution of provisions and money to support him in his time under house arrest.

He wrote a couple of things in this letter that I have read all my life, but only connected when I read them again this week. (That’s the funny thing about scripture, the Holy Spirit will reveal truth you need to hear when you need to hear it.)

Read his words as one under house arrest.

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again. Rejoice!. Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:4-8)

That sounds more like a man sitting on the porch of his mountain cabin, sipping a nice diet coke, with his feet up on the rail, watching the squirrels jump around in the trees. It doesn’t sound like a man chained to a surly and sweating Roman guard.

Rejoice. Don’t be anxious about anything. In every situation and in all you need, pray with thankfulness. Find peace beyond the understanding of men…the kind of peace that sets at ease your troubled heart and worried mind.

You see, despite all he had been through that brought him to Rome…the unjust accusations of Jewish leadership back in Judea and the cowardice of the Roman authorities who knew his innocence…Paul still found himself waiting for a trial that could either set him free or hand him over to be killed. Yet, he says, rejoice. Don’t worry. Be at peace. Be content.

Easy to say, difficult to do, right? It seems counterintuitive when faced with an impending divorce. Life-altering injury or illness. Decisions over aging parents. Rebellious children. Financial loss. Angry neighbors. Death of a spouse. Social unrest.

How does one keep from shrinking into dark depression when encountering any single one of these conditions, much less when several seem to hit at once.

Paul gives us a clue, I think.

“Finally, dear brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me or seen in me—put it into practice and the God of peace will be with you.” (Philippians 4:8-9)

Perhaps the first step in finding contentment amid the garbage of life is to scrap it into the gutter and find the silver lining by concentrating on the noble, the right, the pure and admirable. To get our hearts and minds pointed at the things of God rather than the things that seem to be slapping us around. To find his presence and his peace in the blessings he lavishly provides to those who love him.

Paul found the blessing in the gifts sent by the Philippians. He felt it as he welcomed Epaphroditus as the bearer of the gifts and unwrapped the supplies that they sent to help sustain him. Like a care package of Mom’s chocolate chip cookies sent to a hungry soldier mired in an inhospitable foxhole. It was just what he needed to lift his spirits and remind him that he was not alone.

“I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is like to be in need and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. (Philippians 4:10-12)

Paul truly understood the ups and downs of life. His life as a Pharisee elevated his social standing and financial condition. He lived a life of relative luxury provided by his position as an up-and-coming religious leader. It all changed on the road to Damascus when he encountered the living Christ in a blinding blaze of light.

For the sake of Christ, Paul walked away from a life most others would envy to give himself to the work God called him to do. It was never easy. Paul once wrote the Christians in Corinth about all he had endured since committing his life to Christ.

If you read 2 Corinthians 11:22-29, you’ll find that Paul spent multiple times in prison and not always the house arrest kind. Five times he was given 39 lashes with a whip. He was beaten with sticks, pelted with stones, shipwrecked three times, and constantly on the move. He crossed raging rivers, faced bandits along the roads and the murderous threats from Jew and Gentile alike.

Paul faced danger in the city and in the country. On sea and on land. He had gone without sleep and known days of hunger and thirst. He was cold and naked. And amid the physical distress, he felt the daily pressure of his concern for the people in the churches he had founded…an overwhelming burden.

When you understand all Paul endured, it makes his words to the Philippians even more forceful. “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstance.”

Paul didn’t find contentment by trying to fix his circumstances, he found it by fixing his eyes on Jesus. By concentrating on living the life God had called him to do. By focusing on the noble, the right, the pure, the lovely and the admirable. In other words, by living a Christ-like life in all he did and all he said.

That’s difficult to do under the pressures and burdens we bear. Paul had a “secret” though. A secret he shared openly with the Philippians and with those of us for whom life has bound us to house arrest, limiting our ability to do the things we want to do.

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13)

I’ve read this verse a thousand times, I bet. As I learned in the school business, though, first learning is hard to overcome. When I first learned this passage, it was in the language of King James.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

The message I heard from well-intentioned youth ministers and pastors was that God would empower me through his strength to do everything and anything I wanted to do. That’s the lesson that stuck for that verse. While there is a measure of truth in that thought, it has not been my experience. If that were so, I would have walked on the moon with Neil Armstrong like that childhood dream promised.

No. I don’t think that’s what Paul intended. When Paul says he can concentrate on the noble, the right and the pure; he can find contentment when he has plenty and when he has nothing; he can overcome every adverse circumstance of life. “I can do all of this,” Paul says, “through him who gives me strength.”

There is a difference in “I can do all things…” and “I can do all this…,”  especially within the context of Paul’s life and most decidedly in the context of ours. The first seems more of a promise that our wildest dreams will be ours. The latter suggests that my ability to live well through the good and bad times of life depends on my ability to tap in and trust in the strength Christ provides.

We are incapable of dealing with everything that sticks to the bottom or our shoes within our restricted power and limited strength. However, we can fix our eyes on Jesus. Think like Jesus thought. Live like Jesus lived, facing every circumstance with the same grace with which Jesus faced the sin of the world.

Through the strength Christ provides through his word and his spirit, we will find that silver lining. We’ll find we can be content in all of this tough stuff with which we are dealing.

I truly don’t know how you define contentment. I only hope you find it in Christ. All other definitions are severely lacking.

Maybe the best starting point is to be thankful for the eternal presence of Jesus in your life. Dr. Toyin Omofoye is an author and clinical pharmacist. She said, “Contentment is realized when gratitude becomes a lifestyle.”

So, when you’re facing what you can’t fix on your own, be grateful that you can do all this…all that is required to make it through…because of the strength of Christ in you.

Amen?

Amen!

Better Than Biscuits

Background Passages: Ecclesiastes 3:11, Isaiah 40:29-31 and Colossians 1:15-20

I saw this floating story around the social network this week in a Facebook post shared by my friend Kim Pressly. It’s a story about a visiting pastor who attended a men’s breakfast in the middle of a rural farming community, not unlike the one in which I was raised.

An older, sun-baked farmer, decked out in faded bib overalls was asked to say grace for the morning breakfast.

“Lord, I hate buttermilk”, the farmer began. The visiting pastor opened one eye to glance at the farmer and wondered where this was going. The farmer loudly proclaimed, “Lord, I hate lard.” Without missing a beat, the farmer continued, “And Lord, you know I don’t much care for raw, white flour.”

The pastor once again opened an eye to glance around the room and saw that he wasn’t the only one feeling a bit uncomfortable with the farmer’s prayer.

Then the farmer added, “But Lord, when you mix them all together and bake them, I do love fresh, warm biscuits.

“Lord, when things come up that we don’t like, when life gets hard, when we don’t understand what you’re saying to us, help us to just relax and wait until you are done mixing. It’ll probably be even better than biscuits.

“Amen.”

I suspect that little anecdote spoke to me when I first read it this week because there is a lot going on in this world that I don’t like. Current realities make life difficult. I suppose we own much of it. We’ve let those difficulties divide us as a people more deeply than I ever thought possible. The parts we don’t own, those things beyond our control, we sure don’t understand.

I hate what is happening to our country, our world, our churches, our lives. It is too often unattractive, unhealthy and unChristian. I don’t know about you, but I find myself growing tired of the buttermilk and the lard and the raw, white flour.

So maybe that old farmer is right. “God, help us wait until you are done mixing.”

I suppose the first Bible verse that comes to my mind is this:

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastics 3:11)

We can’t always see what God has done, nor can we always see what he is doing right now. We do know there is beauty in everything God has created. He orders all things. When we make our mistakes, he is constantly realigning our path with his will. When our world ventures off course, he is there to hold it together until his time is right.

We may not always understand why God allows for things to happen in our lives that cause pain, fear, and worry. However, we can trust that he is constantly at work to reveal his goodness and love amid the troubles of the day.

So, when I don’t like the buttermilk, I just need to realize the Master Baker is still in the kitchen.

If I can accept that God is in control and working through the mess on our behalf, then I can turn to Isaiah 40:29-31 and rest from the struggle and draw strength from his presence.

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary and young men will stumble and fall; but those who wait upon the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not grow faint.”

What does it mean to “wait upon the Lord?”

Because we’ve spent so much time in the waiting room of a doctor’s office or in the line at the Department of Motor Vehicles to get our license renewed, we tend to think “waiting” is a passive experience. That we must somehow sit on our hands until God chooses to do something to fix the situation in which we find ourselves. In scripture, however, waiting on the Lord is a call for action.

When these words were spoken by God through Isaiah, the Israelites were in exile in Babylon and Jerusalem lay in ruins, it’s walls and buildings mere rubble. Their hopes and dreams shattered. Tired of their situation, they complained that God no longer seemed interested in their well-being; that he was disinclined to seek justice on their behalf.

Isaiah paints a different picture of God the Creator. He speaks of God giving power to those who are fainthearted and weary. He counters their complaint that God is too small of the situation. Isaiah reminds them, “Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.”

God, Isaiah proclaims, “gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless.” God is ready to share his power with those who call upon his name. All that is required of them is to “wait on the Lord.”

They were not to sit idly by twiddling their thumbs until God acted on their behalf. They were to wait upon him in confident trust and expectation that he was at work to restore them to the place he called them to be. To wait on the Lord is to actively put our hope and trust in him.

Hope, in a biblical sense, is not desperation. It is living out each day in the image of Christ as his hands, heart and voice. It is taking all we know of Christ and his teachings and doing our part to influence a world that’s trending in the wrong direction. It is actively serving and ministering to the hearts of those we encounter along the way.

Despite the turmoil that surrounds us, we are called to a hopeful expectation that God is still in the kitchen mixing together all the ingredients of the life he has called us to live in Him.

If we do our part in the waiting time, God promises to renew our strength. One commentary I read explained that the word used for “renew” in this passage is closer in translation to the word “exchange.” I like that mental picture.

Those who wait on the Lord do more than renew their strength, they exchange, instead, their faint or faltering strength for the unfailing power of God. Our weakness is replaced by his strength…our frailty with the power of the Creator God who never grows tired.

The beautiful imagery that Isaiah used gives perfect illustration to the uplifting power of God.

“They will soar on wings like eagles.”

An eagle soars to great heights not on the power of his own wings, but on the rising air currents that lift it higher and higher. The eagle’s own power gets him airborne, but to soar he needs the wind. Once he finds the current, soaring is effortless.

Our waiting on the Lord, our confident hope, is the personal action that gets us airborne. We soar when we find the Spirit’s wind that lifts us to new heights. When we find God’s spirit with us, soaring is effortless. We will not grow weary of the task laid before us.

Scripture reminds us that God is always mixing things together, working to bring good from every circumstance for those who love him and are called for his purpose. It is God who holds it all together.

The world is in a mess right now. I don’t like what I see and hear. It seems everything we hold dear is falling apart at the seams.

There is still a big part of me, however, that believes God is at work in the chaos.

Paul indicated as much to his letter to the Colossian church.

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities — all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together…For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.” (Colossians 1:15-20)

Those who wait on the Lord put our confident trust in Christ, the image of the invisible God. That means in times of trouble we can fall back on his teachings to guide us because he has preeminence or authority over all things.

And, here is the part of this passage that speaks to the farmer’s prayer: “…in him all things hold together…and through him to reconcile to himself all things…making peace by the blood of his cross.”

The farmer got it right. All the things in life that I hate, the things I fear are tearing us apart, God knows about all of them. He is in preeminent and is holding life together. Keeping it all in the mix until the time when he can reconcile or bring everything back together to himself. Until we find the peace available through his sacrifice on the cross.

Here’s the deal though. Those things in the mix require one more ingredient. For God to turn those things I hate into something worth tasting, those who wait upon the Lord must be folded into the batter. Confidently expecting God to work in and through us to accomplish his plan and purpose, not only in our lives, but in the world around us. His work through us.

So, don’t grow weary as you look upon the complicated world around you. Our Lord is mixing and holding it all together. Wait upon the Lord. His work…our work…is not done.

I confident when he’s finished, whatever he’s cooked up will be better than biscuits.

No Where Else To Go

Background Passage: John 14:23-27

I spent the bulk of my professional career trying to put the right words together to explain things. I always felt I did it fairly well. Today, I’m at a loss to explain what’s happening in our country.

It’s not that the events of the past year have caught me by surprise. It’s just that it all seems so senseless. The ideologies and actions of a radical left and radical right keep tearing at the fabric of our republic.

I have no words to ease the angst of my adult children who wonder what kind of world their children will inherit. I certainly have no words to adequately answer the questions of my nine-year-old grandson whose innocent heart cannot comprehend hatred and bitterness.

I am at a loss. All I can do for them is listen and love.

We’ve become a people who call others blind because of the sawdust in their eyes without paying heed to the plank obscuring our own vision. A people unable to see that spiritually an “eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” gave way to “turning the other cheek” or “walking the extra mile.”

An essay published by the Lincoln Home National Historic Site shared information about President Lincoln’s thoughts on the eve of the Civil War.

Step back in time and travel the world in 1860. Visiting every continent, every country, you would find monarchies, dictatorships and authoritarian rule. When you return home and set foot on American soil after all your travels, you would have found only one republic established on democratic rule. The United States of America.

France tried shortly after the American Revolution, but mob rule and the guillotine determined outcomes more than the ballot box. If we are honest with ourselves, it is a startling comparison to our present circumstance when taking over a downtown or storming our Capitol building are accepted as necessary by factions of our population, each declaring that the end would justify the means.

President Abraham Lincoln led our nation at a time when the world’s monarchists and tyrants watched our Civil War with glee, hoping to see the end of this unnatural democratic experiment in the dissolution of the United States.

Lincoln understood this well. It was not simple political rhetoric when he described America as “the world’s last best hope.” Lincoln believed if the war were lost, it would be the end of America. If America ceased to exist as a united nation, it would end the hope of people everywhere for any form of democratic government.

I suspect there are foreign nations today dancing with joy at the discord so prevalent among our people.

When he was most overwhelmed, Lincoln found the only answer available to him. It’s the only answer I can find to my current inadequacies. Lincoln turned to prayer.

During the worst days of the Civil War, Lincoln met privately with his friend and journalist Noah Brooks. The president told him, “I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.”

“Driven to my knees…” When the politics fail, when our own understanding fails us, maybe it’s time to hear those words from President Lincoln. Maybe today, we have “no where else to go” except to our knees in prayer to our Father in heaven.

On March 4, 1861, at his first inaugural address, with his nation divided and on the brink of Civil War, Lincoln offer this prayer for peace.

“Almighty God, who has given us this good land for our heritage;
We humbly beseech Thee that we may always prove ourselves
a people mindful of Thy favor and glad to do Thy will.

“Bless our land with honorable ministry, sound learning, and pure manners. Save us from violence, discord, and confusion,
from pride and arrogance, and from every evil way.

“Defend our liberties, and fashion into one united people,
the multitude brought hither out of many kindreds and tongues.

“Endow with Thy spirit of wisdom those whom in Thy name
we entrust the authority of government, that there may be
justice and peace at home, and that through obedience to Thy law, we may show forth Thy praise among the nations of the earth.

“In time of prosperity fill our hearts with thankfulness,
and in the day of trouble, suffer not our trust in Thee to fail;
all of which we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

It was the perfect prayer for an imperfect era of discord 160 years ago. It’s a good prayer for this day of uncertainty. I claim it for our nation today and ask you to join me in praying for our country, our leaders, our people and our future.

Prayer is something I can do. It is prayer that will bring me the peace I need to feel.

As a politically divided nation, peace is at a premium. Trying to find peace in the events of this world is a fruitless effort. Life’s circumstances and events might bring a welcomed calm, but, ultimately, nothing that happens around us will ever bring peace. We must look upward and inward for that.

Jesus’ words to his disciples in the Upper Room hours before his arrest and crucifixion offered instruction, hope and encouragement. He knew the disciples were about to have the rug pulled out from under their feet. He knew how dark their days would grow and how burdened their hearts would be. He knew exactly what they needed to hear.

What I know in this moment is that God knows my struggles and burdens of my heart. He knows how dark these days feel to me at times. That’s why his words to his disciples bring comfort to my heart. He knows what I need to hear.

“Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching…but the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom my father will send in my name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:23-27)

Don’t worry, he says, about what is happening around you. Just stay true to all I’ve taught you. Be who I have called you to be. Remember all I’ve taught you and don’t be influenced by others to abandon your faith and your hope.

In the middle of life’s turmoil, trust me. Trust my peace, not as the world understands it, but peace as you have experienced  in the past. Do not be afraid.

I don’t know about you, but it is God’s peace we need as a people and a nation. It is a peace that comes only on bended knee.

Seasons of Our Lives

Background Passage: Ecclesiastes 3:1-14; Ecclesiastes 1:9

It’s one of the few commercials I enjoy. Veteran actor J. K Simmons in his persona as an agent for a national insurance company, leads a client through their Hall of Claims. He describes a bizarre and unlikely happening once covered under their policy…like the Three-Ringed Fender Bender, an accident caused by a clown car rear-ending another vehicle.

He typically ends the tour with the tagline, “We know a thing or two because we’ve seen a thing or two.”

The writer of Ecclesiastes, in his infinite wisdom, had a similar thought. He had seen it all.

“What has been will be again. What has been done will be done again. There is nothing new under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes 1:9)

Solomon, the last king of a united Israel and the youngest son of David, is generally credited with writing some of the Psalms, the Song of Solomon and most of Ecclesiastes. In the beginning of Ecclesiastes, the writer is called “The Preacher” in some translations or “The Teacher” in others. His words are always instructive.

“What has been will be again.” This statement sounds pessimistic, resigned to the inevitable. “There is nothing new under the sun.”

I think it’s wisdom that comes with age where one begins to recognize how often history and life repeat. It is a wisdom that knows that nothing, and I mean nothing, surprises our God.

Shortly after the start of the riots in Minneapolis, Seattle, Portland and other major urban centers, one of my sons expressed how unsettled he felt as he watched what was happening. He recognized the validity of the protests and the need for progress in civil rights, but struggled with the violence associated with it.

I told him I felt the same way as I watched all that transpired in the 60s and 70s. The need for change was real. The destruction was a tragic waste and did more harm than good. We got through those years by taking some tough steps forward. We can and must do the same this time. There is nothing new in the unsettled feelings we’re feeling.

Pandemics come and go throughout history. Depression and joblessness recur in a cyclical nature. Periods of civil unrest lead to important social change. Hotly contested elections play out in front of us with lies, half-truths and innuendo. Whatever we are experiencing, we’ve been there before. There really is nothing new under the sun.

As life unfolds around us we learn that there is a season for all things in God’s created world. Chaos exists in our world. Resolution comes. The pattern repeats, not because God has lost control, but because that is life.

The teacher of Ecclesiastes would tell us that every thing happens in its time and that the God of the universe works within the chaos and the calm for a purpose, even when we don’t know what he’s doing or why.

Listen to the Preacher’s poetry (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8).

There is a time for everything—
and a season for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to uproot.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
A time to tear down and a time to build.
A time to weep and a time to laugh.
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them.
A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up.
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
A time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate.
A time for war and a time for peace.

See in the phrasing…his choice of words…the order and balance of God’s creation. The contrasting couplets give evidence that life has its seasons, its time, for all things. Yet, the couplets are not sequential. They fall randomly in the poem as they fall randomly in life. They represent the broad spectrum of life as we live it from birth to death. Not all roses and lemonade. Not all darkness and doom.

It is all we experience in the dash between the day of our birth and the day of our death. It is life. In life God grants us the time to do what he needs us to do. To experience the living…the good and the bad of it…to make memories and to have experiences that draw us closer to the God who loves us.

God wants us to spend our time wisely in that to which he calls us. Time is his gift to us. How we use it during the seasons of our life ought to matter to us because it matters to God.

Most of the time when we read or hear these verses we stop at the end of the poem. Yet, to stop at the end of the poem is accepting the vagaries of life as if the Creator set the world in motion and let it run unattended since the dawn of time.

In such a world we exist as flotsam, adrift in a placid ocean that turns stormy with each wisp of wind. To stop at the end of the poem is defeatist. Little more than life left to the arbitrary whim of a callous and uncaring god.

The wise writer of Ecclesiastes refused to believe that. He had more to say. And, to me, it is the heart of the matter.

“What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:9-11)

Life is a series of contrasting events…the inevitable good and bad times. It is what we do with it and the attitude we carry that makes a difference. Here’s a tremendous take away.

This verse is written by a man who has seen the hurricane hide the sunset. A man who suffered the storm and watched the dawning of a bright, new day. The older I get and the more hardships I encounter, I know that “this, too, shall pass.”

Solomon recognized that through the good and the bad of life, God “makes everything beautiful in its time.” These are words written by a man who knows that even in the darkest of nights and the deepest of despair, God is at work.

And, it’s not just an Old Testament construct. Paul said, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

The ugly becomes beautiful in the hands of a loving God and that is a mystifying process beyond our comprehension…a God-worked mystery “no one can fathom…from beginning to end.” I can know God is at work without ever seeing his hand until the storm passes. That’s why we must find time in our busy days to reflect on where we’ve been and what has transpired. Hindsight is 20/20. (Aren’t we all ready to see 2020 in our hindsight.)

To Solomon, the teacher, the king, life boiled down to this. It is not complicated. It is not abstract. It is profound in its simplicity.

“I know there is nothing better than for people to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them shall eat and drink and find satisfaction in all their toil—that is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing can be taken from it.” (Ecclesiastes 3:14)

Ecclesiastes teaches us to enjoy God’s gifts today. Being content with life regardless of circumstance is a gift of God to those who make “doing good” a priority. Focusing our attention on doing good and enjoying life can help us accept the balance between the seasons of mourning and the seasons of dance. Between the good days and the bad.

Paul echoed the sentiment to the church at Philippi, declaring that God continually grants him the strength to find peace in every season.

“I am not saying this because I am in need for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need and I know what it is to have plenty…I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:11-13)

In what season do you find yourself today? The answer will be different for each of us. Some will be at war and others at peace. Some will be keeping and others throwing away. Some will be searching and others will give up. Some will gather stones while others are scattering them to the wind.

I don’t know in what season you find yourself, but I know this. God knows a thing or two because he’s seen a thing or two. He is at work in your season and you are not alone.

When we live for him, God’s way is both manageable and meaningful. Rather than complaining about our circumstances, about the things we don’t have or the bad times we’re going through; rather than crawling in our foxholes in the vain hope that the difficulties will pass over our heads; let’s enjoy the time he has granted us to live. Let us find that which God is teaching us and celebrate it.

“There is a time for everything and a season, a purpose, for every activity under heaven.”

Finding Hope Amid the Hopelessness

Background Passages: Psalm 31:24, Psalm 33:18, Romans 5:3, Isaiah 40:31, Romans 12:12, Jeremiah 29:11

If our coronavirus, racial-tense, economically stricken world has taught us anything, it’s that the things of this world will confound and confuse us, rust away and lose their luster, or fizzle out and fade away.

Maybe we can handled one or two of those things happening at the same time. When we are hit with a tsunami of negative news and issues seemingly without solution, the feeling of hopelessness can overwhelm us.

I’m a generally optimistic person and I admit I’ve felt it at times during the past five months. We wonder: “Will we survive this?” Or “When will this ever end?”

Two verses provide a message for our worrisome day.

“Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.” (Psalm 31:24) “The eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him; on those who hope in his unfailing love.” (Psalm 33:18)

The verses beg the question. What is our source of hope?

Several years ago, psychologist Dr. Shane Lopez began to ask those he encountered what they meant when they talked about hope. To get the conversation started, he asked his friends and clients to take the Head-Heart-Holy test. It starts, he said, by asking the question, “Given your background and all life experiences, where does hope originate?”

The analysis determines whether one’s hope comes from one’s head (That which you believe and think you can control), heart (The emotions that respond to events and guide your actions) or whatever one finds sacred (the belief in God or some higher power at work). Lopez says that most people ascribe hope to the heart…a feeling that comes and goes depending on life events and circumstances.

It seems to me if you’re dependent upon life circumstances as a basis of hope, much of your life will be spent in a frenzied foxhole, hoping to avoid what feels inevitable. For those of us who put our faith and trust in Christ, the origin of hope is found in a leap of faith, especially in the darkest times.

Growing up on a farm 22 miles from the nearest decent sized city, I took for granted the stars in the night sky. I remember looking up late at night and seeing the clear band of the Milky Way spreading across the night sky amid a universe of galactic pinpoints of light. After living almost all my adult life in the suburbs of Houston, it’s a rare night outside when I can see more than a handful of the brightest planets or star clusters.

Stars are amazing and beautiful, but you can only see them at night. The deeper the darkness, the brighter, and more plentiful, the stars.

The stars prove to be an interesting metaphor for Christian hope. We rarely call upon it in the light of prosperity and peace. We hold onto it, but don’t draw upon it. No, we discover hope in the dark night of adversity. Famed pastor C. H. Spurgeon wrote, “Hope is like a star. Often, we only see it when we are facing suffering.”

The point he was trying to make, I think, is that difficult times cause us to call upon our hope in Christ. Paul told the Roman church that the persecution they faced would eventually lead to hope.

“…We know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” (Romans 5:3)

If we truly believe that God can find a way to bring about good even in the most difficult circumstance as he tells us in Romans 8:28, then the dark days of pandemic, turmoil and financial stress should elicit the hope within us. It is a trust that God is at work in our lives and in the world and that the final outcome, the final victory is his…and by extension…ours.

If suffering is a part of life, which our experience tells us it is, we get to choose whether or not it will overwhelm us. Our security comes from the one in whom we believe, not from our own feelings or emotions which tend to weaken our knees. The difference between the Christian’s response to trouble and that of one without Christ is hope.

This verse in Isaiah stands to me as one of the most uplifting and poetic passages in all scripture. It speaks to the natural outgrowth of Christian hope.

“…but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

When fear and worry begin to gnaw at my soul, that verse echoes off the walls that seem to surround and trap me. I hear it and the difficult steps I have to take get easier, less heavy-footed. My whole demeanor and attitude change.

Troubled times have a season. They will come and go. Ebb and flow. My approach to the trauma of the day becomes one of joyous hope as I try to wait upon God to answer prayers. Yet, this is what is required of me.

“Be joyful in hope; patient in affliction and faithful in prayer.” (Romans 12:12)

For most of those Dr. Lopez surveyed, hope was conditional, framed by the circumstances in which they found themselves or the people with whom they were surrounded. Our hope as Christians is not grounded on circumstance, people or our own personal choices. Hope is found in Christ alone. It is a refrain pronounced by Edward Mote, a 19th century London cabinetmaker turned minister. In 1863, he penned the words of one of the great hymns of all time.

“My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

“When darkness veils his lovely face,
I rest on his unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale,
my anchor holds within the veil.

“On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand.
All other ground is sinking sand.

Hope shines brightest in the darkest storms. If your experiences in this messed up world give you a sense of foreboding, helplessness and hopelessness, know that God’s hope shines brightest in the darkest storm. He is the only solid rock in a quicksand world.

The hope we have is not based on circumstances, people, or even our own choices – hope is found in Christ alone. What a comfort this is to our lonely and hurting hearts! God is faithful and will not disappoint.

Rest your heart upon this word.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

Somehow, that makes me feel better. May we all test positive for hope this week.

Dancing with God

Background Passages: John 10:10; Psalm 116:13-14, Deuteronomy 30:19-20; Psalm 30:11

Have you ever noticed how you can find connections in random things? I read four seemingly unrelated things this week and found a connection I’d like to share. I hope it make sense when I put it on paper. Let’s play connect the dots

Dot One

As a part of my devotional studies this week I read a passage out of John. It is a lengthy story that is a part of the “I am…” statements of Jesus.

The man, blind since birth, dipped his hands into the Pool of Siloam as he was instructed, carefully washing the mud ball from his eyes. After he had done so, “the man went home seeing.” His rejoicing captured the attention of friends, neighbors and Pharisees. Because it was the Sabbath, a quick investigation ensued, leading the religious elite to Jesus. After a bit of verbal wrangling, Jesus explained to them…

“I have come that they might have life and have it abundantly.”

John 10:10 is one of my favorite verses, hinting at a life Jesus promises all who put their faith and trust in him. It’s hard to explain that concept to one who doesn’t believe in Christ. When we try to live life on our own it is easy to get disillusioned and disoriented. The chaos that confronts us at every turn saps the life right out of us.

Life with Christ, on the other hand, becomes worth the pain of living. Our relationship to Christ brings with it the possibility of a new joy, a new vitality, in the face of life’s troubles…if we embrace it.

Hang on to that thought.

Dot Two

My uncle, the Rev. Leslie Lewis, is the pastor of a Lutheran church in a farming community near Lubbock. One of his published devotional thoughts this week talked about taking up the cup of salvation as described by the songwriter in Psalm 116.

Leslie wrote about taking up the cup. “That’s the nature of relationship. All we can do is take the cup. The cup being life, with all its circumstances as it comes to us. For God comes to us as our life.”

Think about that for a second. “God comes to us as our life.” Life is messy, isn’t it? Disordered? Chaotic? God with us amid the chaos.

We find ourselves in a global pandemic, restricted in what we can do and where we can go. Unable to reach out and touch those we love. Even in the middle of something as broad as this, the other burdens of living don’t go away. Fractured relationships. Missing paychecks. Poor decisions. Sickness. Misunderstandings. Life easily becomes unbearable and disorienting if we let it. It is relentless in its attack. Each day brings new burdens to face. Doesn’t sound all that abundant, does it?

Leslie continued, “Sometimes we see life coming at us and are tempted to pray as our lord did, ‘If it be possible let this cup pass from me.’ But the relationship with life demands we take the cup…take responsibility for what is coming to/at us. A loving relationship with God is no more than willingly accepting the cup; the person, the circumstance of life as an invitation to dance with God.”

I love that! “An invitation to dance with God.” Abundant living is not the absence of all the issues that life throws at us for this life we’ve been given to live is both beautiful and ugly at the same time. Nor is it hiding ourselves behind a veil of religiosity.

Leslie shared that we Christians tend to hide behind pious platitudes, made empty because we don’t live the truth buried deeply inside them. “God is in control.” “God will never give us more than we can handle.” When life has us in its talons, our heart is not in them. We live on the surface of our faith, not in its depths. Hide behind the curtain of pious living.

Jesus later said as much to the Pharisees.

“You hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. First, clean the inside…” (Matthew 23:25-26)

Taking up the cup means embracing all that life holds and finding a way to dance our way through it with the Father. Leslie added, “Life is not for sissies. Those who only want to play it safe will never know the riches of his love.” Never know what it means to live the abundant life.

Hold on to this dot and let me take you to another.

Dot Three

I picked up a book this week from my personal library which I have not read in more than 45 years. Dancing at My Funeral, written by Maxine Dunnam in 1973, is about the joy that comes in the present from living an authentic, Christ-filled life.

In her book, Dunnam argues that the thirst for real life is as old as creation itself. That God built within us the desire to experience life at its fullest…in abundance. In Deuteronomy, God, through Moses, tells the Hebrew people…

“I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now, choose life so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life…” (Deuteronomy 30:19-20)

Dunnam writes, “Here ‘life’ and ‘death’ don’t signify ‘existence’ and ‘nonexistence.’ Rather, they hold a promise that existence can be enriched and thereby become real life.” Authentic life. Abundant life. “You can have a dead life or a real life—one that is lived in confidence, hope and gratitude.” And, if we’re truthful, we’ve all known Christians who were the “walking dead,” those who allowed life to suck the joy out of their relationship to God. That’s not what God intended.

Like my uncle, Dunnam argues that Christians tend to cloister behind the walls of the church or wrap ourselves in the cloak of spirituality to avoid the hazards of the world. Dunnam says real life is not in the avoidance of problems, but in our dynamic relationship to God. Staying connected to him while facing the world as it comes and ministering through the problems and the pitfalls. Abundant life is God’s gift in the middle of the messiness of life.

God offers us the same as he offered the Hebrew children. Choose life! Choose abundance!

Dot Four

Real and abundant life is an experience. The work of God is making us real. In the story of the Velveteen Rabbit, written by Margery Williams, the worried rabbit is told by the wise old Skin Horse that it takes a long time to become real.

“It doesn’t happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully made. Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

God’s call to abundant living is a call to love and serve others. Those acts of service will often leave us with hair loved off, eyes dropped out and a little loose in the joints. You may look ugly in the sight of the world, but they don’t understand. God loves our mangy, bug-eyed shabbiness that comes from an abundant life of sacrifice.

Connect the dots

What does abundant life mean to me? It means desiring the fullness of life that only a relationship with God can provide. Willingly serving and loving others. It means embracing our cup…this life…as it comes with all its joy and despair…all its turmoil and tests…all its passion and grace. It means to choose this life…to love God, to listen to his words and hold tightly to him at all times. It means living a real, authentic faith evidenced by a cup as clean on the inside as it is on the outside. It means full joy and contentment in a relationship with a loving Father.

It means dancing with God.

“You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have loosened my sackcloth and girded me with gladness.: (Psalm 30:11)