We have a sweet display of crèches in the chancel of the Third Avenue church. Pastor Mike invited people to share their family nativity sets with the parish this Christmas season. Baby Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the shepherds and Wise Men are represented in various media: from porcelain to plaster-of-Paris, hand-carved wood to hand-cut paper. Most donors have left cards with a story belonging to the crèche. Some are treasured heirlooms, some gifts marking a special occasion. One was made by a group of 7- and 8-year-old boys just for this display. On Christmas Eve, we expect people to wander to the cancel to admire these beautiful depictions of the birth of our Savior Jesus.
As I admire the statues and stables, I notice among the young Marys a common feature. The maiden kneels before the manger with hands clasped to her heart…as if she’s trying to contain the matters of her son’s arrival, protecting all the memories surrounding the pregnancy and birth, keeping back the wonder of the miracle she’s experienced. She looks upon her child with gentle love, but she restrains the awe surrounding this monumental night.
Twice Luke’s Gospel tells us Mary “treasured all these things” (verses 2:19, 51). She set them as valuables in a storehouse, a place of safe-keeping. Verse 19 also tells us that she spent time “pondering them.” Mary reviewed the extraordinary events as most mothers do, questioning the future of her precious child. The word ponder comes from two words that mean union with or together and to throw [down]. In pondering the early events of Jesus’ life, Mary threw around the possibilities together with…? Whom?
With all that Mary had been through—an angel visitation, supernatural impregnation, broken engagement, unconsummated marriage, a 90-mile journey by donkey in her ninth month of pregnancy, and delivering her child in a barn—you’d think she would be prime for an appearance on Dr Phil. Common sense would indicate that Mary should not endure this ordeal in silence. Who could deny her the opportunity to vent, to rant, maybe even cash in on the story? She should have every opportunity to get it off her chest.
But that’s the very place Mary revered her circumstances. Luke says Mary held these extraordinary events in the safest place she knew—her heart. A private spot where she would review each moment and give each situation its rightful importance. Mary pondered these things in her heart, the place where God would join her in conversation.
Mary held all her circumstances in awe. She marveled at what was pronounced about her infant son. It amazed her that God would find her worthy of this sacred experience. Which, of course, explains why she found favor with God. Mary’s humility—the amazement that God would select a young, uneducated peasant girl to bear His Son—marked her as virtuous.
Humility distinguished Mary from other girls and women. It set her apart from many men and leaders of Jewish society. It was not a self-loathing or passive doormat state. Rather, it was the clear conviction that God was the source of any honor coming into her life. Mary knew that we earn no acclaim on our own. She understood that humility is recognition that without God, nothing we accomplish amounts to any good.
In a song of praise, Mary acknowledged God as her source: "For the Mighty One has done great things for me” (Luke 1:49). It was as if she were saying,
“He noticed me! I’m just a girl, but God my Savior has noticed me! I have nothing to offer Him, nothing that proves I am a person of worth. All I have is the quiet of my heart.”
In the quiet of her heart, God noticed Mary. He knew she “lacked” the world’s qualifications for worth: wealth, possessions, physical strength, leadership, education. But God was looking for something unique. He was looking for a heart that recognized its need for Him.
The proud heart has no room for God—it seeks its own glory. Its need is to be known, to tell its own story, to “get it off its chest.” Imagination springs from the proud heart and the story is embellished for the honor and adoration of the world.
How could such a heart be used in the mighty task of mothering God’s Only Son?
The humble heart welcomes God. In the quiet of acknowledging a need for Him, the humble heart joins with God in pondering all He has done. We call this worship—responding to God with quiet and stillness, joining with Him to converse, to ponder.
God noticed the young peasant girl’s modest heart. She responded to God’s call on her life with a willing trust. Despite the seeming impossibility of what He proposed, despite the cost it would surely mean to her future, Mary’s humbled heart was at peace. God confuses the ways of those who are “proud in the thoughts of their heart” (Luke 1:51), but the lowly heart has peace.
Mary had a story to share. An incredible story. But she kept it as a cherished treasure—safe from fame and boasting. Safe from the danger of embellishment. She kept it on her chest—within her heart. She shared it with God…and let Him share it with others.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
IF I HAD A PULPIT: Don't Blame Me
President Ronald Reagan enjoyed enormous popularity during his two terms in office. Though an arms-for-hostage scheme marred his last years, he left the White House in 1989 with the highest approval ratings of any US president since Franklin Roosevelt.
A young Democratic congresswoman noted a similarity between the president and the pan holding her children’s breakfast eggs. Patricia Schroeder, representative from Colorado, remarked, “After carefully watching Ronald Reagan, I can see he’s attempting a great breakthrough in political technology. He has been perfecting the Teflon-coated presidency. He sees to it that nothing sticks to him. He is responsible for nothing.”
The one thing that did stick to President Reagan was Schroeder’s metaphor. He became known as the first Teflon president.
What an enviable place to be, wouldn’t you say? The leader of the free world, the mouthpiece of democracy and responsible for protecting the liberties of millions…and blame could not attach itself to Ronald Reagan.
Now, it’s likely that you aren’t and won’t ever be in a place of such power, but even in your own circumstances, wouldn’t it be wonderful to be freed from blame? Can you even imagine facing charges and having them slide off you? Would it be possible to stand up to complaints and accusations without a string of explanations to back you up?
Of course you know that if you have accepted Jesus Christ as Savoir you are without fault. Every atrocity you’ve ever committed has been wiped away. You’re kind of a Teflon-Christian. The accusations may fly, but nothing will stick to you.
Nothing sticks, but is the life you’re living pleasing to God? You’re free from blame and accusation, but are you honoring God with the things you do? As a Christian, what do your actions say about the God who saved your life?
Though you are without blame, the day will come when you face Jesus to give an account of your life as a Believer. Much of our Christian theology is grounded in the belief that Jesus will return one day. He promised it; we therefore believe it. Jesus said, “Be ready.” He told us to be looking for it. Though we won’t know beforehand, we will see signs of His approach.
When He arrives He will appear in bodily form so that we can see Him and touch Him. And unlike His first time on earth, Jesus will return to judge the world. Believers and non-believers will stand before Him. What will stick to you when He asks, “What did you do with what I gave you?” Will you continue to stand as a Teflon-Believer?
It’s hard to comprehend, but God desires that we would stand before Him blameless, without fault—even on the day when Jesus rules with judgment. Paul said, For this is the will of God, your sanctification (1 Thessalonians 4:3). Sanctification--that’s one of those difficult church-words. It means holy, set apart, different from the world around you. God’s will is that we become a holy people, set apart from the world’s desires, and dedicated to His purposes.
Paul offered the Thessalonians sensible suggestions on how to fulfill God’s will:
Live in peace with one another. We urge you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that no one repays another with evil for evil, but always seek after that which is good for one another and for all people. Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:13 – 18)
God’s will for you in Christ Jesus is that you would be made holy. That increasingly you would become like Jesus. That more and more, in what you say and what you do, you would reflect Jesus to the world.
God’s calls all His children to seek holiness for that Last Day—that day of judgment. His will is that you are able to stand holy and blameless and beyond reproach (Colossians 1:22), without spot or wrinkle (Ephesians 5:27). When the time comes to face Christ’s judgment, nothing will stick to the true Teflon-Christian.
A young Democratic congresswoman noted a similarity between the president and the pan holding her children’s breakfast eggs. Patricia Schroeder, representative from Colorado, remarked, “After carefully watching Ronald Reagan, I can see he’s attempting a great breakthrough in political technology. He has been perfecting the Teflon-coated presidency. He sees to it that nothing sticks to him. He is responsible for nothing.”
The one thing that did stick to President Reagan was Schroeder’s metaphor. He became known as the first Teflon president.
What an enviable place to be, wouldn’t you say? The leader of the free world, the mouthpiece of democracy and responsible for protecting the liberties of millions…and blame could not attach itself to Ronald Reagan.
Now, it’s likely that you aren’t and won’t ever be in a place of such power, but even in your own circumstances, wouldn’t it be wonderful to be freed from blame? Can you even imagine facing charges and having them slide off you? Would it be possible to stand up to complaints and accusations without a string of explanations to back you up?
Of course you know that if you have accepted Jesus Christ as Savoir you are without fault. Every atrocity you’ve ever committed has been wiped away. You’re kind of a Teflon-Christian. The accusations may fly, but nothing will stick to you.
Nothing sticks, but is the life you’re living pleasing to God? You’re free from blame and accusation, but are you honoring God with the things you do? As a Christian, what do your actions say about the God who saved your life?
Though you are without blame, the day will come when you face Jesus to give an account of your life as a Believer. Much of our Christian theology is grounded in the belief that Jesus will return one day. He promised it; we therefore believe it. Jesus said, “Be ready.” He told us to be looking for it. Though we won’t know beforehand, we will see signs of His approach.
When He arrives He will appear in bodily form so that we can see Him and touch Him. And unlike His first time on earth, Jesus will return to judge the world. Believers and non-believers will stand before Him. What will stick to you when He asks, “What did you do with what I gave you?” Will you continue to stand as a Teflon-Believer?
It’s hard to comprehend, but God desires that we would stand before Him blameless, without fault—even on the day when Jesus rules with judgment. Paul said, For this is the will of God, your sanctification (1 Thessalonians 4:3). Sanctification--that’s one of those difficult church-words. It means holy, set apart, different from the world around you. God’s will is that we become a holy people, set apart from the world’s desires, and dedicated to His purposes.
Paul offered the Thessalonians sensible suggestions on how to fulfill God’s will:
Live in peace with one another. We urge you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that no one repays another with evil for evil, but always seek after that which is good for one another and for all people. Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:13 – 18)
God’s will for you in Christ Jesus is that you would be made holy. That increasingly you would become like Jesus. That more and more, in what you say and what you do, you would reflect Jesus to the world.
God’s calls all His children to seek holiness for that Last Day—that day of judgment. His will is that you are able to stand holy and blameless and beyond reproach (Colossians 1:22), without spot or wrinkle (Ephesians 5:27). When the time comes to face Christ’s judgment, nothing will stick to the true Teflon-Christian.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
PIONEER COLUMN (December 2008): A World of Despair
We live in discouraging times. With deep government debt, a plunging stock market, wars with no end, record-high mortgage failures and bankruptcies…we have to wonder, where is the hope? We see evil go unpunished. Suffering surrounds us. We fall into despair. Things will never change. They will always be this way.
Peter struggled to bring believers through just such despair. He spoke to them about the certainty of suffering—of being criticized, attacked, even hated—for sharing the Gospel. His greater concern, however, was damage that could come from within the ranks. Peter cautioned against complacency and encouraged followers to live out what they believed. He charged them to hold fast to the truth. He warned of leaders among them who would distort and subvert the Gospel message.
In his second letter, Peter assured the church that they would have false teachers among them. Preachers would ridicule those looking for the second coming of Christ. They will say, “Where is this ‘coming’ he promised?...everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation” (2 Peter 3:4).
The people faced physical persecution from the Jews and emotional abuse from their own teachers. How bleak the world must have seemed. Where is the hope? How easy to slip into a sense that God had forgotten them. Things will never change. They will always be this way.
One of the great carols of the Christmas season comes from a time of deep despair. Tragedy had fallen on Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He lost his beloved wife in a freak and fiery accident in 1861. Then two years later, his eldest son was severely wounded while serving in the Union Army. On Christmas Day, 1864, with the Civil War raging, Longfellow penned a holiday poem of seven verses. We’re familiar with five of the stanzas that begin:
I heard the bells on Christmas Day, their old familiar carols play
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
This last line, repeated in all seven verses, seems to mock the truth played out in America that day. Longfellow’s despondency is transparent in two lesser-known stanzas:
Then from each black accursed mouth, the cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound the carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.
It was as if an earthquake rent the hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn the households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.
And then with the sixth verse, the poet acknowledges his despair. He cries out with words that seem to say, “Where is the hope? Things will never change. They will always be this way." In the misery of grief and the futility of war, had God forgotten Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?
No. Longfellow confidently concludes:
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, good-will to men!
Peter similarly encouraged those he addressed. Though mockers scoffed and accused God of breaking a promise, Peter reminded the people that God was neither dead nor asleep. He was at work. He had not withdrawn His promise, nor was He delaying it. He was still working through it. Peter says: The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9).
God was and is using this period of time before Jesus returns to draw people to Him. With the promise of Christ’s second coming, God extends an incentive to join His fellowship. It is His greatest desire that no one would be left out, that no one would be lost on that last day. The message of Christmas is a message of hope: God first sent His Son to save the world. Despite the dire messages of the world (where is the hope? Things will never change), we take hope in the continual work of God. We find hope in believing His Son will return. As Longfellow said, The Right will prevail.
Peter struggled to bring believers through just such despair. He spoke to them about the certainty of suffering—of being criticized, attacked, even hated—for sharing the Gospel. His greater concern, however, was damage that could come from within the ranks. Peter cautioned against complacency and encouraged followers to live out what they believed. He charged them to hold fast to the truth. He warned of leaders among them who would distort and subvert the Gospel message.
In his second letter, Peter assured the church that they would have false teachers among them. Preachers would ridicule those looking for the second coming of Christ. They will say, “Where is this ‘coming’ he promised?...everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation” (2 Peter 3:4).
The people faced physical persecution from the Jews and emotional abuse from their own teachers. How bleak the world must have seemed. Where is the hope? How easy to slip into a sense that God had forgotten them. Things will never change. They will always be this way.
One of the great carols of the Christmas season comes from a time of deep despair. Tragedy had fallen on Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He lost his beloved wife in a freak and fiery accident in 1861. Then two years later, his eldest son was severely wounded while serving in the Union Army. On Christmas Day, 1864, with the Civil War raging, Longfellow penned a holiday poem of seven verses. We’re familiar with five of the stanzas that begin:
I heard the bells on Christmas Day, their old familiar carols play
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
This last line, repeated in all seven verses, seems to mock the truth played out in America that day. Longfellow’s despondency is transparent in two lesser-known stanzas:
Then from each black accursed mouth, the cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound the carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.
It was as if an earthquake rent the hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn the households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.
And then with the sixth verse, the poet acknowledges his despair. He cries out with words that seem to say, “Where is the hope? Things will never change. They will always be this way." In the misery of grief and the futility of war, had God forgotten Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?
No. Longfellow confidently concludes:
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, good-will to men!
Peter similarly encouraged those he addressed. Though mockers scoffed and accused God of breaking a promise, Peter reminded the people that God was neither dead nor asleep. He was at work. He had not withdrawn His promise, nor was He delaying it. He was still working through it. Peter says: The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9).
God was and is using this period of time before Jesus returns to draw people to Him. With the promise of Christ’s second coming, God extends an incentive to join His fellowship. It is His greatest desire that no one would be left out, that no one would be lost on that last day. The message of Christmas is a message of hope: God first sent His Son to save the world. Despite the dire messages of the world (where is the hope? Things will never change), we take hope in the continual work of God. We find hope in believing His Son will return. As Longfellow said, The Right will prevail.
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