Matthew 5:21-24
Anger.
"It's just the way I am."
"I'm only angry for a little bit, then I'm over it."
"You have to stand up for yourself."
"I have a right to be upset."
"In my family, this is normal."
"It's a German, or Italian, or Irish, or fill-in-the-blank thing."
"I can never change."
"You can just deal with it."
Anger, this is how we measure it. It's acceptable. It's hereditary. It's just there. But Jesus measured it differently. He said, "You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'Do not murder and anyone who murders will be subject to judgement.' But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgement. . . .Anyone who says, 'You fool! will be in danger of the fire of hell" (Matthew 5:21,22).
By human standards anger is no-big-deal, but by Christ's standard it puts us pretty close to damnation. A damnation that is not born out of an arbitrary rule, but the reality what heaven is. It's as if Jesus is trying to yell, "Don't go there! That sin will kill you and it will destroy everything you love in the process."
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
More Righteous Than a Pharisee
Matthew 5:20
"For I tell you that unless our righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven."
That's a pretty scary text. Those Pharisees and teachers of the law were pretty punctilious. They fasted often (Matthew 9:14), they were faithful tithe givers--even down to tithing their mint, cumin, and dill (Matthew 23:23). It would be pretty hard to beat a Pharisee at righteousness.
But then Jesus wasn't particularly impressed with the Pharisee's righteousness. He said, "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean" (Matthew 23:27).
So why is He telling them that their righteousness must surpass the Pharisee? What if we played with the word surpassed a little? What if instead of thinking of righteousness as a race and who is ahead or behind in this race, we looked at it as a matter of depth. Unless your righteousness is deeper than the Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.
What will God find when he looks at me? Will he find a shinny veneer but a tomb full of bones? One of the most powerful texts in the Bible is this: "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh" (Ezekiel 36:26). That is God's promise.
I cannot enter the kingdom unless I'm more righteous than a Pharisee, but the way I'm "more righteous" is simply by getting rid of the tomb that is my unregenerate heart taking on a heart of flesh.
"For I tell you that unless our righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven."
That's a pretty scary text. Those Pharisees and teachers of the law were pretty punctilious. They fasted often (Matthew 9:14), they were faithful tithe givers--even down to tithing their mint, cumin, and dill (Matthew 23:23). It would be pretty hard to beat a Pharisee at righteousness.
But then Jesus wasn't particularly impressed with the Pharisee's righteousness. He said, "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean" (Matthew 23:27).
So why is He telling them that their righteousness must surpass the Pharisee? What if we played with the word surpassed a little? What if instead of thinking of righteousness as a race and who is ahead or behind in this race, we looked at it as a matter of depth. Unless your righteousness is deeper than the Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.
What will God find when he looks at me? Will he find a shinny veneer but a tomb full of bones? One of the most powerful texts in the Bible is this: "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh" (Ezekiel 36:26). That is God's promise.
I cannot enter the kingdom unless I'm more righteous than a Pharisee, but the way I'm "more righteous" is simply by getting rid of the tomb that is my unregenerate heart taking on a heart of flesh.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Flesh & Blood
"Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets: I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them" (Matthew 5:17).
I've picked up several of my friends mannerisms along the way: I smack my tongue a little like Lavonne when I talk of something tasty, I can wiggle my fingers when I look in the fridge like Sarah, and I sometimes catch one eyebrow going down when I'm thinking like Jade. People have a way of rubbing off on me.
I also happen (this seems like a tangent but it is not!) to like ideas. I enjoy abstract stuff, my definition of a happy day is a day I get to play around with a new idea.
But here's the deal, as happy as I am thinking about something. As much as I enjoy sitting in a corner and reading--I rarely find myself mimicking ideas. I mimic people. I'm more moved by watching a person cry over the loss of her home to a tornado than I am moved by reading that on average there are 800 tornadoes in the US every year.
So when Jesus said that he did not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it. I find something powerful. He came to make what was abstract concrete. He came to give rules, propositions, pleas, prophecies, proverbs, psalms, praises--he came to give them all flesh. He is the embodiment of God's ideas. "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us" (John 1:14).
I've picked up several of my friends mannerisms along the way: I smack my tongue a little like Lavonne when I talk of something tasty, I can wiggle my fingers when I look in the fridge like Sarah, and I sometimes catch one eyebrow going down when I'm thinking like Jade. People have a way of rubbing off on me.
I also happen (this seems like a tangent but it is not!) to like ideas. I enjoy abstract stuff, my definition of a happy day is a day I get to play around with a new idea.
But here's the deal, as happy as I am thinking about something. As much as I enjoy sitting in a corner and reading--I rarely find myself mimicking ideas. I mimic people. I'm more moved by watching a person cry over the loss of her home to a tornado than I am moved by reading that on average there are 800 tornadoes in the US every year.
So when Jesus said that he did not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it. I find something powerful. He came to make what was abstract concrete. He came to give rules, propositions, pleas, prophecies, proverbs, psalms, praises--he came to give them all flesh. He is the embodiment of God's ideas. "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us" (John 1:14).
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Shine
Matthew 5:14-16
Would you toss your flashlight in your backpack when you were trying to see the trail? Would you cover all your light bulbs with black crepe paper? Would that make any sense? Not at all.
Lights were meant to shine. Take the batteries out of a flashlight. Take the filament out of a light bulb, and the flashlight and light bulb no longer serve their purpose.
In the same way you were made to shine. Your life was created to produce good works that others might look on and praise the Father for what they saw.
(My loose paraphrase of Matthew 5:14-16.)
Would you toss your flashlight in your backpack when you were trying to see the trail? Would you cover all your light bulbs with black crepe paper? Would that make any sense? Not at all.
Lights were meant to shine. Take the batteries out of a flashlight. Take the filament out of a light bulb, and the flashlight and light bulb no longer serve their purpose.
In the same way you were made to shine. Your life was created to produce good works that others might look on and praise the Father for what they saw.
(My loose paraphrase of Matthew 5:14-16.)
Friday, January 27, 2012
Let Your Light
Matthew 5:14
It has just gotten dark here, and I've come back from a short walk to my mailbox. As I was walking back, I lingered on a curb near a neighbor's home. I pretended to be interested in my mail, but I was really spying. This neighbor has all his/her shades up and the house is full of people.
This is the second Friday night that I've noticed this gathering. There is no music blaring, nor is there any TV on. It looks like people are just sitting, eating, and talking to each other. I highly suspect it's a small group Bible study; I even wonder if they are Seventh-day Adventists. (Maybe I should have snuck a look a little closer to see if they were eating haystacks.)
As I sat across from the house going through my mail--I was struck how utterly inviting the scene looked. With all the windows open, the light spilled out onto the sidewalk and road. The house glowed a la Thomas Kinkade. The light alone is attractive--but the people inside look happy and like they genuinely care for each other.
As I walked away, I thought how beautifully the house illustrated: "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden" (Matthew 5:14). I don't even know those people, and I just wanted to knock on the door and invite myself over.
The church is at its best when we are like this--when our love for each other is evident, when we have created a community that others can find security in, when our light so shines--that our glow can't be hidden.
It has just gotten dark here, and I've come back from a short walk to my mailbox. As I was walking back, I lingered on a curb near a neighbor's home. I pretended to be interested in my mail, but I was really spying. This neighbor has all his/her shades up and the house is full of people.
This is the second Friday night that I've noticed this gathering. There is no music blaring, nor is there any TV on. It looks like people are just sitting, eating, and talking to each other. I highly suspect it's a small group Bible study; I even wonder if they are Seventh-day Adventists. (Maybe I should have snuck a look a little closer to see if they were eating haystacks.)
As I sat across from the house going through my mail--I was struck how utterly inviting the scene looked. With all the windows open, the light spilled out onto the sidewalk and road. The house glowed a la Thomas Kinkade. The light alone is attractive--but the people inside look happy and like they genuinely care for each other.
As I walked away, I thought how beautifully the house illustrated: "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden" (Matthew 5:14). I don't even know those people, and I just wanted to knock on the door and invite myself over.
The church is at its best when we are like this--when our love for each other is evident, when we have created a community that others can find security in, when our light so shines--that our glow can't be hidden.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tasty
Matthew 5:13
"You are the salt of the earth"(Matthew 5:13). In Jesus' time salt was frequently used from keeping food from going rancid: think beef jerky. It's is going to last much longer outside in the heat than say ground hamburger meat.
Salt also keeps food tasty. I can relate to this a little better since that's my main use of salt: salt on pasta, salt on potatoes, salt even on salad--I love it all!
Usually when I think of this salt text, I connect it to the first use of salt--preserving something. But I'd like to think that the metaphor can be applied in the sense of tasty too. Look, we're here not just to keep the world from going rancid, but to make it taste better too!
If we are the salt of the earth, we'd better not be bland!
One of my favorite Ellen White quotes touches on this a little. She says, "The strongest argument in favor of the gospel is a loving and lovable Christian" (MH 470). It's not just enough to reach out to people and love them, we must be the kind of people that draw others to Christ. We have to learn the art of being lovable.
"You are the salt of the earth"(Matthew 5:13). In Jesus' time salt was frequently used from keeping food from going rancid: think beef jerky. It's is going to last much longer outside in the heat than say ground hamburger meat.
Salt also keeps food tasty. I can relate to this a little better since that's my main use of salt: salt on pasta, salt on potatoes, salt even on salad--I love it all!
Usually when I think of this salt text, I connect it to the first use of salt--preserving something. But I'd like to think that the metaphor can be applied in the sense of tasty too. Look, we're here not just to keep the world from going rancid, but to make it taste better too!
If we are the salt of the earth, we'd better not be bland!
One of my favorite Ellen White quotes touches on this a little. She says, "The strongest argument in favor of the gospel is a loving and lovable Christian" (MH 470). It's not just enough to reach out to people and love them, we must be the kind of people that draw others to Christ. We have to learn the art of being lovable.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Blessed
Matthew 5:10-12
Whenever I hear someone say the word "blessed" I make the assumption (maybe falsely so) that they are a Christian. It's just that the word is so Christianny (Yes, I make up words) that I have a hard time imagining an atheist saying that he was "blessed".
To be blessed implies a blesser.
That said, we now come upon the stickiest blessing: persecution. "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 5:10). Last I checked losing one's job, being the butt of jokes, getting thrown in prison, being rejected by one's parents, or even getting killed don't look like blessings. Really, when was the last time someone stood up in church and said, "I just want to praise God for letting me lose my job because I stood up for him." That doesn't feel like a blessing--that feels like a bad joke.
The mystery of why it is good to suffer for righteousness sake is not completely explained in this passage, but there are two things to keep in mind: those who suffer persecution will receive a great reward in heaven and those who suffer persecution join a long list of God honored people who were persecuted before them.
There's something I noticed reading over the text tonight. The beatitudes are in the form of "blessed are those"...from Matthew 5:3 to 5:10. But after Jesus starts talking out persecution he switches from describing the characteristics of the blessed to addressing the blessed personally. "Blessed are you (Matthew 5:11). It's almost as if Jesus has reached the most intimate part of his conversation and his tone changes. There's a shift in his voice.
I can almost hear him explain. "Listen, I'm talking to you now. When you suffer and struggle for my sake, you are blessed. Don't give up, there is a reward in heaven. I can't wait to honor you there. But for now, hang on!"
Whenever I hear someone say the word "blessed" I make the assumption (maybe falsely so) that they are a Christian. It's just that the word is so Christianny (Yes, I make up words) that I have a hard time imagining an atheist saying that he was "blessed".
To be blessed implies a blesser.
That said, we now come upon the stickiest blessing: persecution. "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 5:10). Last I checked losing one's job, being the butt of jokes, getting thrown in prison, being rejected by one's parents, or even getting killed don't look like blessings. Really, when was the last time someone stood up in church and said, "I just want to praise God for letting me lose my job because I stood up for him." That doesn't feel like a blessing--that feels like a bad joke.
The mystery of why it is good to suffer for righteousness sake is not completely explained in this passage, but there are two things to keep in mind: those who suffer persecution will receive a great reward in heaven and those who suffer persecution join a long list of God honored people who were persecuted before them.
There's something I noticed reading over the text tonight. The beatitudes are in the form of "blessed are those"...from Matthew 5:3 to 5:10. But after Jesus starts talking out persecution he switches from describing the characteristics of the blessed to addressing the blessed personally. "Blessed are you (Matthew 5:11). It's almost as if Jesus has reached the most intimate part of his conversation and his tone changes. There's a shift in his voice.
I can almost hear him explain. "Listen, I'm talking to you now. When you suffer and struggle for my sake, you are blessed. Don't give up, there is a reward in heaven. I can't wait to honor you there. But for now, hang on!"
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Peacemakers
Matthew 5:9
One of my accidental hobbies is collecting weird events. On this list of weird events is having two physical fights erupt while teaching. They happened the same year at the same school. One fight was your basic girl clawing boy (okay, weird), boy fighting back, and someone coming away from it with a bloody nose. The second I'm fuzzy on how it started (it was 15 + years ago), but I remember the part where I realized I couldn't physically break up the fight, nor could my sophomore students--so I grabbed some juniors from a friend's class and they stopped the fight.
Today's text is "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God" (Matthew 5:9). Someone who is called a Son of God must be someone who resembles God. At it's most basic level, those juniors resembled God. They stepped in at the right moment and pulled apart the kids who were fighting.
I think that God's love for peace reflects something beautiful in his character. What does he want for humanity? He wants peace. Peace is order, stability, security, and rest. Peace is a clear mind and a clear conscience.
So in whatever way we bring stability, security, rest, and clarity to life, we are peacemakers.
Peace is also about relationships that thrive . When I think of relationships that are at peace, I think of a student who once wrote about a friend that "there was a very fine gas between us". Now, I don't exactly know what that means and the phrasing makes me laugh, but I kind of feel like this describes friendships at their best. There's just this can't-get-my-finger-on-it feeling of being at home with someone. No only do peacemakers create a safe place for others to land, but they are refraining from the kinds of sin that create dissension: criticizing and gossiping.
I think peacemakers are relationship makers and protectors. They are God's salt in a world quickly going rancid.
One of my accidental hobbies is collecting weird events. On this list of weird events is having two physical fights erupt while teaching. They happened the same year at the same school. One fight was your basic girl clawing boy (okay, weird), boy fighting back, and someone coming away from it with a bloody nose. The second I'm fuzzy on how it started (it was 15 + years ago), but I remember the part where I realized I couldn't physically break up the fight, nor could my sophomore students--so I grabbed some juniors from a friend's class and they stopped the fight.
Today's text is "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God" (Matthew 5:9). Someone who is called a Son of God must be someone who resembles God. At it's most basic level, those juniors resembled God. They stepped in at the right moment and pulled apart the kids who were fighting.
I think that God's love for peace reflects something beautiful in his character. What does he want for humanity? He wants peace. Peace is order, stability, security, and rest. Peace is a clear mind and a clear conscience.
So in whatever way we bring stability, security, rest, and clarity to life, we are peacemakers.
Peace is also about relationships that thrive . When I think of relationships that are at peace, I think of a student who once wrote about a friend that "there was a very fine gas between us". Now, I don't exactly know what that means and the phrasing makes me laugh, but I kind of feel like this describes friendships at their best. There's just this can't-get-my-finger-on-it feeling of being at home with someone. No only do peacemakers create a safe place for others to land, but they are refraining from the kinds of sin that create dissension: criticizing and gossiping.
I think peacemakers are relationship makers and protectors. They are God's salt in a world quickly going rancid.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Seeing
Matthew 5:8
What we see says a lot about who we are. Painters look at walls, English teachers notice poor punctuation (it's a job hazard!), and doctors diagnose in the grocery store. We see what we know.
We also see what we love. A birder will see a yellow billed magpie, and I'll see uh, a bird with, uh, feathers. A friend will see a person wearing Jimmy Louboutin heels, and I won't even realize that the same person has shoes on.
So it shouldn't surprise us that who we are shapes our capacity to see God. Jesus said, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God" (Matthew 5:8). This is not so much an arbitrary rule as it is a spiritual reality. Impure heart conditions such as pride, lust, selfishness, and hatred all block our view of God.
This might be a little discouraging; if we can't see God, how will we ever get over our sins? The texts proceeding Matthew 5:8 give us hope and direction. A pure heart comes when we recognize our spiritual poverty (5:3), mourn our condition (5:4), recognize who we really are (5:5), then hunger for something greater--God's righteousness(5:6).
The only difficult part of this whole scenario is recognizing our spiritual poverty. But even the difficulty of discovering our spiritual poverty is met by God.
He says, "You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see" (Revelations 3:17,18).
He provides the wealth for our poverty, the clothes for our shame, and the salve for our eyes--so we can see Him!
And what a blessing it is to see Him! "Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maidservant to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the LORD our God, till he has mercy upon us" (Psalms 123:2).
What do we see when we look in his face? The God who chose us before we ever chose Him (John 15:16), the God whose loved us with an everlasting love (Jer.31:3), the God who is making a place for us in heaven (John 14:2). There is so much good of God that will be left unnoticed unless our hearts are pure.
Father, purify my heart that I might see you.
What we see says a lot about who we are. Painters look at walls, English teachers notice poor punctuation (it's a job hazard!), and doctors diagnose in the grocery store. We see what we know.
We also see what we love. A birder will see a yellow billed magpie, and I'll see uh, a bird with, uh, feathers. A friend will see a person wearing Jimmy Louboutin heels, and I won't even realize that the same person has shoes on.
So it shouldn't surprise us that who we are shapes our capacity to see God. Jesus said, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God" (Matthew 5:8). This is not so much an arbitrary rule as it is a spiritual reality. Impure heart conditions such as pride, lust, selfishness, and hatred all block our view of God.
This might be a little discouraging; if we can't see God, how will we ever get over our sins? The texts proceeding Matthew 5:8 give us hope and direction. A pure heart comes when we recognize our spiritual poverty (5:3), mourn our condition (5:4), recognize who we really are (5:5), then hunger for something greater--God's righteousness(5:6).
The only difficult part of this whole scenario is recognizing our spiritual poverty. But even the difficulty of discovering our spiritual poverty is met by God.
He says, "You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see" (Revelations 3:17,18).
He provides the wealth for our poverty, the clothes for our shame, and the salve for our eyes--so we can see Him!
And what a blessing it is to see Him! "Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maidservant to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the LORD our God, till he has mercy upon us" (Psalms 123:2).
What do we see when we look in his face? The God who chose us before we ever chose Him (John 15:16), the God whose loved us with an everlasting love (Jer.31:3), the God who is making a place for us in heaven (John 14:2). There is so much good of God that will be left unnoticed unless our hearts are pure.
Father, purify my heart that I might see you.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Mercy
Matthew 5:7
Today at Costco I was really annoyed by all the people who were in MY way as I shopped. I wished they had found somewhere else to shop. My shopping trip reminded me that my default setting is self-centeredness. I would be supremely delighted if the world suddenly caved into my wishes: traffic would part like the red sea before me, lines at Wal-Mart would mysteriously disappear, and no one would ever tell me that I was wrong again.
We Christians get hung up arguing over if we saved just by "grace" or "grace and works" and simply forget to praise God for the works. What are the good works? Are they painful deeds that we grimace through (kind of like having to do 200 sit-ups)? No, they are the life of Christ working in and through us. And what is the life of Christ in us? The life of Christ looks something like this; it has "love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control" (Galatians 5:22,23).
This life also has mercy. It's a funny thing because Jesus said that we'll be blessed when we show mercy, but the mercy never even came from us in the first place. It came from him. It's God's economy. He gives us something, we give it away, and he gives us even more of what we gave away. It's the mercy cloud cycle.
"Blessed are the merciful, they will be shown mercy" (Matthew 5:4).
Today at Costco I was really annoyed by all the people who were in MY way as I shopped. I wished they had found somewhere else to shop. My shopping trip reminded me that my default setting is self-centeredness. I would be supremely delighted if the world suddenly caved into my wishes: traffic would part like the red sea before me, lines at Wal-Mart would mysteriously disappear, and no one would ever tell me that I was wrong again.
We Christians get hung up arguing over if we saved just by "grace" or "grace and works" and simply forget to praise God for the works. What are the good works? Are they painful deeds that we grimace through (kind of like having to do 200 sit-ups)? No, they are the life of Christ working in and through us. And what is the life of Christ in us? The life of Christ looks something like this; it has "love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control" (Galatians 5:22,23).
This life also has mercy. It's a funny thing because Jesus said that we'll be blessed when we show mercy, but the mercy never even came from us in the first place. It came from him. It's God's economy. He gives us something, we give it away, and he gives us even more of what we gave away. It's the mercy cloud cycle.
"Blessed are the merciful, they will be shown mercy" (Matthew 5:4).
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Hungry
"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled" (Matthew 5:6).
I don't usually like being hungry, so much so that I used to eat my pancakes a little raw because I was too hungry to wait for them to finish cooking. Esau was in the same a boat as me. He was hungry, too hungry for lentil soup to care very much about his birthright.
When we are hungry, all we can focus on is food. When we are spiritually hungry, God becomes the primary focus of our life.
I want to be hungry. I want to be thirsty. I want my whole life to be so stretched out after God and his righteousness that I'll get more than my fill of him.
I don't usually like being hungry, so much so that I used to eat my pancakes a little raw because I was too hungry to wait for them to finish cooking. Esau was in the same a boat as me. He was hungry, too hungry for lentil soup to care very much about his birthright.
When we are hungry, all we can focus on is food. When we are spiritually hungry, God becomes the primary focus of our life.
I want to be hungry. I want to be thirsty. I want my whole life to be so stretched out after God and his righteousness that I'll get more than my fill of him.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Meekness
Matthew 5:5
"Blessed are the meek for they will inherit the earth" (Matthew 5:5). The word meek has a negative connotation in English. Maybe it's because it sounds a lot like mousy or because of the old hymn "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild". We hear, "Blessed are the meek," and we imagine a person with unkempt greasy hair, a limp handshake, and a habit of speaking to the floor. Not exactly, someone we aspire to be. "Blessed are the meek?" Many people think, "that's great! But it's not for me."
But meekness is an essential kingdom quality. So if it isn't to be mousy mild, and bland, what is it? I found a good definition from a website called Crossmap Christian: meekness is "great strength under control". The authors got this definition from the the Greek word for meek, praus. Sailors used praus to describe a gentle breeze. Praus was also used for a soothing medicine or a broken colt. (See
http://pastors.crossmap.com/article/blessed-are-the-meek/item331.htm)
I like the last image of praus, of a broken colt, the best. There are several ways to break a colt. One way is through forcing it
A broken colt knows who its master is, it responds both to the reins as well as its rider (horses tend to walk in the direction that a rider is looking). I think one aspect of meekness is a reponsiveness to God. An openness and willingness, to move in the direction he is looking.
There are other definitions of meekness out there. I liked the one from the Online Etymology Dictionary: ".1200, 'gentle, courteous, kind,' from O.N. mjukr 'soft, pliant, gentle,' from P.Gmc. *meukaz (cf. Goth. muka-modei 'humility,' Du. muik 'soft'), of uncertain origin. Sense of 'submissive' is from mid-14c."
Being submissive is a bit hard. Even if I can get over that meekness doesn't make me insecure or muted, it's still pretty hard to embrace an attitude of submission. There's two reasons: one submissiveness goes against the grain of my natural self as well as my culture (Americans were born to rebel!), but also submissiveness sometimes gets equated with being controlled or timid. Jesus was the most meek of men, but he was never controlled nor was he timid. He who would over and over again remind his family that they did not direct his ministry, and he would overturn tables in the temple.
Another clue about submission is found in Philippians 2:3-4: "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.
Meekness is not just an absence of something (pride), but an active consideration of others: What are the rights of others? What are the needs of others? How can I best serve others?
I'm not sure I'm meek yet. but God is working in me to teach me to submit to his leading (he's the ultimate people-whisperer) and accept his kingdom on his terms.
"Blessed are the meek for they will inherit the earth" (Matthew 5:5). The word meek has a negative connotation in English. Maybe it's because it sounds a lot like mousy or because of the old hymn "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild". We hear, "Blessed are the meek," and we imagine a person with unkempt greasy hair, a limp handshake, and a habit of speaking to the floor. Not exactly, someone we aspire to be. "Blessed are the meek?" Many people think, "that's great! But it's not for me."
But meekness is an essential kingdom quality. So if it isn't to be mousy mild, and bland, what is it? I found a good definition from a website called Crossmap Christian: meekness is "great strength under control". The authors got this definition from the the Greek word for meek, praus. Sailors used praus to describe a gentle breeze. Praus was also used for a soothing medicine or a broken colt. (See
http://pastors.crossmap.com/article/blessed-are-the-meek/item331.htm)
I like the last image of praus, of a broken colt, the best. There are several ways to break a colt. One way is through forcing it
A broken colt knows who its master is, it responds both to the reins as well as its rider (horses tend to walk in the direction that a rider is looking). I think one aspect of meekness is a reponsiveness to God. An openness and willingness, to move in the direction he is looking.
There are other definitions of meekness out there. I liked the one from the Online Etymology Dictionary: ".1200, 'gentle, courteous, kind,' from O.N. mjukr 'soft, pliant, gentle,' from P.Gmc. *meukaz (cf. Goth. muka-modei 'humility,' Du. muik 'soft'), of uncertain origin. Sense of 'submissive' is from mid-14c."
Being submissive is a bit hard. Even if I can get over that meekness doesn't make me insecure or muted, it's still pretty hard to embrace an attitude of submission. There's two reasons: one submissiveness goes against the grain of my natural self as well as my culture (Americans were born to rebel!), but also submissiveness sometimes gets equated with being controlled or timid. Jesus was the most meek of men, but he was never controlled nor was he timid. He who would over and over again remind his family that they did not direct his ministry, and he would overturn tables in the temple.
Another clue about submission is found in Philippians 2:3-4: "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.
Meekness is not just an absence of something (pride), but an active consideration of others: What are the rights of others? What are the needs of others? How can I best serve others?
I'm not sure I'm meek yet. but God is working in me to teach me to submit to his leading (he's the ultimate people-whisperer) and accept his kingdom on his terms.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
With Us
Matthew 5:4
Jesus said, "Blessed are those who mourn" (Matthew 5:4). I'm pretty sure mourning involves some good crying. I hate crying. My eyes get red, my face gets red, my nose drips, my eye lids get puffy--I am a complete mess. The last thing I want when I am crying is company, not even good company.
But when I cry and want to be left alone, God still seeks to be with me. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" (Matthew 5:4). You can't have comfort without a comforter. My need draw a Savior. My tears draw the one will someday "wipe all tears away" (Revelation 21:4).
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" encapsulates the gospel. This verse shows us the intersection between human and divine. Where I grieve--he brings comfort. Where I am empty--he is full. Where I am weak--he is strong. Where my human need is--God is.
I'm reminded of Matthew 1:23: "'The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel'"--which means, 'God with us.'" God is with us. He is with us in our sorrows. He is with us in our conviction of our own weakness. He is here.
He is with us when we cry.
When I'm in my room, with my door locked, in the secret, the most sacred intimate place of my tears, He comes.
"You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book" (Psalms 56:8).
Jesus said, "Blessed are those who mourn" (Matthew 5:4). I'm pretty sure mourning involves some good crying. I hate crying. My eyes get red, my face gets red, my nose drips, my eye lids get puffy--I am a complete mess. The last thing I want when I am crying is company, not even good company.
But when I cry and want to be left alone, God still seeks to be with me. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" (Matthew 5:4). You can't have comfort without a comforter. My need draw a Savior. My tears draw the one will someday "wipe all tears away" (Revelation 21:4).
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" encapsulates the gospel. This verse shows us the intersection between human and divine. Where I grieve--he brings comfort. Where I am empty--he is full. Where I am weak--he is strong. Where my human need is--God is.
I'm reminded of Matthew 1:23: "'The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel'"--which means, 'God with us.'" God is with us. He is with us in our sorrows. He is with us in our conviction of our own weakness. He is here.
He is with us when we cry.
When I'm in my room, with my door locked, in the secret, the most sacred intimate place of my tears, He comes.
"You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book" (Psalms 56:8).
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Ambition
Matthew 5:3
Ambition. Christian ambition. This is what I want--a passionate, no-matter-what-the-cost-I-must-have-this ambition. What for? To live here: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 5:3, NIV). Or as the New Living Translation puts it, "God blesses those who are poor and realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is their" (Matthew 5:3). I also like the way the Message has it: "You're blessed when you are at the end of your rope. With less of you there's more of God and his rule" (Matthew 5:3).
Need. This isn't what most of us want. We don't want to need anything. No, we want to be strong, independent, capable--and rightly so. But like money our strengths might keep us from the kingdom. "How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!" (Luke 18:24).
Our own strength keeps us from praying. Our own strength keeps us from asking God for help. Our own strength keeps us from seeing how puny our human effort is. Our own strength keeps us away from God and out of his kingdom.
Father, make me need you. Make me more and more capable each day of asking for your help, of relying on your strength, of knowing how much greater you are than me. May my riches never stop me from passionately pursuing the poverty that you bless--a poverty that looks only to you!
Ambition. Christian ambition. This is what I want--a passionate, no-matter-what-the-cost-I-must-have-this ambition. What for? To live here: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 5:3, NIV). Or as the New Living Translation puts it, "God blesses those who are poor and realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is their" (Matthew 5:3). I also like the way the Message has it: "You're blessed when you are at the end of your rope. With less of you there's more of God and his rule" (Matthew 5:3).
Need. This isn't what most of us want. We don't want to need anything. No, we want to be strong, independent, capable--and rightly so. But like money our strengths might keep us from the kingdom. "How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!" (Luke 18:24).
Our own strength keeps us from praying. Our own strength keeps us from asking God for help. Our own strength keeps us from seeing how puny our human effort is. Our own strength keeps us away from God and out of his kingdom.
Father, make me need you. Make me more and more capable each day of asking for your help, of relying on your strength, of knowing how much greater you are than me. May my riches never stop me from passionately pursuing the poverty that you bless--a poverty that looks only to you!
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Mission
Matthew 4:1-10
After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to
him and said, "If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread."Jesus answered, "It is written: 'Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God'" (Matthew 4:2-4)
I imagine Jesus saying the following:
"Man does not live on bread alone" (Matthew 4:4). Man needs more than bread, and I'm going to provide him that bread. Satan, you ask me to perform a miracle to prove my identity, but I know who I am. "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry" (John 6:35). I will provide bread Satan; I'll do a similar miracle but not on your terms (I'll only make food to feed those who are truly hungry). I do not need to create loaves from stones to show who I am. I know who I am. I am the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world (John 1:29). I am the good shepherd who "lays down his life for the sheep"(John 10:11).
You ask me to make stones into bread; you ask me sell my birthright like Esau of old for morsels. I cannot do this. I must say no so I can say yes to a harder challenge. You see making bread out of rocks is easy, but making my body into bread that will be difficult. This is something you cannot fundamentally understand: "I lay [my life] down of my own accord" (John 10:18).
You tempt me with flour and water, but I have a greater hunger that only my Father can satisfy. "My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work" (John 4:34). What is my Father's work? My Father is love (1 John 4:16). And I must show his love. "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13). My friends are hungry.
I'm going for a cross, and I cannot be distracted by bread.
"Man cannot live on bread alone" so I must feed them; I must be able to tell them: "Take eat; this is my body" (Matthew 26:26). I know my mission; I must say no.
After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to
him and said, "If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread."Jesus answered, "It is written: 'Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God'" (Matthew 4:2-4)
I imagine Jesus saying the following:
"Man does not live on bread alone" (Matthew 4:4). Man needs more than bread, and I'm going to provide him that bread. Satan, you ask me to perform a miracle to prove my identity, but I know who I am. "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry" (John 6:35). I will provide bread Satan; I'll do a similar miracle but not on your terms (I'll only make food to feed those who are truly hungry). I do not need to create loaves from stones to show who I am. I know who I am. I am the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world (John 1:29). I am the good shepherd who "lays down his life for the sheep"(John 10:11).
You ask me to make stones into bread; you ask me sell my birthright like Esau of old for morsels. I cannot do this. I must say no so I can say yes to a harder challenge. You see making bread out of rocks is easy, but making my body into bread that will be difficult. This is something you cannot fundamentally understand: "I lay [my life] down of my own accord" (John 10:18).
You tempt me with flour and water, but I have a greater hunger that only my Father can satisfy. "My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work" (John 4:34). What is my Father's work? My Father is love (1 John 4:16). And I must show his love. "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13). My friends are hungry.
I'm going for a cross, and I cannot be distracted by bread.
"Man cannot live on bread alone" so I must feed them; I must be able to tell them: "Take eat; this is my body" (Matthew 26:26). I know my mission; I must say no.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Baptism
Matthew 3:13-17
I got baptized in September 1989; I was 11 years old. Jesus got baptized when he was 30. In some ways, it's such an ordinary thing that he did. He stepped off the banks of Jordan river into the water. He allowed himself to be pushed under the water by John and then he came up. And that's when the ordinary became extraordinary--because "at that moment heaven was opened up, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and lighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased" (Matthew 3:16,17).
There doesn't seem to be too many times in the gospels where heaven breaks through in such a vivid way to earth. In fact, it seems that most of the time Jesus had to believe that his mission was God-sent without the bells and whistles.
But thank God for the extraordinary moments--how Jesus must have needed them! Yesterday evening, I was talking with a friend and we discussed how much Jesus bore. Not only did he "carry our infirmities", but he carried the weight of saving the world. This is a weight we both admitted could never have borne. So I'm grateful for God for the moments He gave Jesus to cling to, the words He gave Jesus to never forget.
The next scene after the baptism is the temptation. The first two temptations that Satan gave to Jesus started with, "If you are the Son of God". I'm so grateful that when Jesus faced those temptations he had ringing in his ears: "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased" (Matthew 3:17).
I got baptized in September 1989; I was 11 years old. Jesus got baptized when he was 30. In some ways, it's such an ordinary thing that he did. He stepped off the banks of Jordan river into the water. He allowed himself to be pushed under the water by John and then he came up. And that's when the ordinary became extraordinary--because "at that moment heaven was opened up, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and lighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased" (Matthew 3:16,17).
There doesn't seem to be too many times in the gospels where heaven breaks through in such a vivid way to earth. In fact, it seems that most of the time Jesus had to believe that his mission was God-sent without the bells and whistles.
But thank God for the extraordinary moments--how Jesus must have needed them! Yesterday evening, I was talking with a friend and we discussed how much Jesus bore. Not only did he "carry our infirmities", but he carried the weight of saving the world. This is a weight we both admitted could never have borne. So I'm grateful for God for the moments He gave Jesus to cling to, the words He gave Jesus to never forget.
The next scene after the baptism is the temptation. The first two temptations that Satan gave to Jesus started with, "If you are the Son of God". I'm so grateful that when Jesus faced those temptations he had ringing in his ears: "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased" (Matthew 3:17).
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Kingdom of Heaven
Matthew 3:1-3
Growing up, my siblings and I would often use the phrase, "I repent in dust and ashes." We liked the saying, but we never took it very seriously. "oh, I stepped on your toe? Well, I repent in dust and ashes."
In Matthew 3, John calls people to repent. This is no light "I made a mistake" "dust and ashes" kind of repentance, but a profound change in our life. It's a change that makes us recognize our spiritual poverty (Matthew 5:3), makes us do God's will (Matthew 7:21), and makes us more childlike (Matthew 18:3) among many things.
The kingdom of heaven is both earthly and heavenly. It starts here and keeps going. Jesus was the beginning note of that kingdom--that will be sung for eternity.
In reference to John, Matthew quoted Isaiah as saying: 'Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him'" (Matthew 3:3). Lord prepare my heart and make a straight path to it, so you can easily enter.
Growing up, my siblings and I would often use the phrase, "I repent in dust and ashes." We liked the saying, but we never took it very seriously. "oh, I stepped on your toe? Well, I repent in dust and ashes."
In Matthew 3, John calls people to repent. This is no light "I made a mistake" "dust and ashes" kind of repentance, but a profound change in our life. It's a change that makes us recognize our spiritual poverty (Matthew 5:3), makes us do God's will (Matthew 7:21), and makes us more childlike (Matthew 18:3) among many things.
The kingdom of heaven is both earthly and heavenly. It starts here and keeps going. Jesus was the beginning note of that kingdom--that will be sung for eternity.
In reference to John, Matthew quoted Isaiah as saying: 'Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him'" (Matthew 3:3). Lord prepare my heart and make a straight path to it, so you can easily enter.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Jesus at the Temple
Luke 2:41-51
Today I talked with a nine-year old boy about sharks. He asked if I thought tiger sharks were big or small. I said, "Small." He said, "No, tiger sharks aren't small but sand tiger sharks are small." He then proceeded to list all the sharks he knew--I can't remember the names he rambled off--I think I heard the word jar head and large mouthed. The nine-year-old had a precocious knowledge of sharks.
Jesus was precocious too. But unlike the boy I met today--he did not just have knowledge beyond his years but wisdom. "Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers" (Luke 2:47).
I wish I could have heard him speak. I wish I could have heard the questions he asked. Most of Jesus later interactions with the teachers of the law seemed fraught with hostility on their part--but in this one interaction they were simply disarmed and astonished by him.
Mary and Joseph were astonished too. But not astonished enough to stop themselves from scolding him. Jesus response was telling, "Why were you searching for me? Didn't you know I had to be in my Father's house?" He shows that he understands his mission and now he asks if they understand it. Luke says, "They did not understand what he was saying to them" (2:50). They were muddled on his mission. It reminds me of a later story where Jesus closest followers were confused. Jesus warned the disciples to be careful of the yeast of the pharisees and they responded with, "It's because we didn't bring any bread" (Matthew 16:17).
What is the mission of Christ? Am I clear on it? Or like Joesph and Mary am I still confused? Or am I like the disciples taking Jesus literally when he has a deep spiritual truth to teach me?
Today I talked with a nine-year old boy about sharks. He asked if I thought tiger sharks were big or small. I said, "Small." He said, "No, tiger sharks aren't small but sand tiger sharks are small." He then proceeded to list all the sharks he knew--I can't remember the names he rambled off--I think I heard the word jar head and large mouthed. The nine-year-old had a precocious knowledge of sharks.
Jesus was precocious too. But unlike the boy I met today--he did not just have knowledge beyond his years but wisdom. "Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers" (Luke 2:47).
I wish I could have heard him speak. I wish I could have heard the questions he asked. Most of Jesus later interactions with the teachers of the law seemed fraught with hostility on their part--but in this one interaction they were simply disarmed and astonished by him.
Mary and Joseph were astonished too. But not astonished enough to stop themselves from scolding him. Jesus response was telling, "Why were you searching for me? Didn't you know I had to be in my Father's house?" He shows that he understands his mission and now he asks if they understand it. Luke says, "They did not understand what he was saying to them" (2:50). They were muddled on his mission. It reminds me of a later story where Jesus closest followers were confused. Jesus warned the disciples to be careful of the yeast of the pharisees and they responded with, "It's because we didn't bring any bread" (Matthew 16:17).
What is the mission of Christ? Am I clear on it? Or like Joesph and Mary am I still confused? Or am I like the disciples taking Jesus literally when he has a deep spiritual truth to teach me?
Friday, January 13, 2012
Anna
Luke 2:36-38
"[Anna] was very old" (Luke 2:36). She was either 84 years old, or she had been a widow for 84 years. Either way she was old.
Now when you are old, you are supposed to take a break, move to Florida, play golf or shuffle board, and enjoy long warm days on the beach drinking virgin pina coladas.
But Anna didn't get that memo. No, her old age was spent in worship. She "never left the temple but worshiped night and day, fasting and praying" (Luke 2:37).
Worship consumed her.
The time she spent in the temple was not on a checklist, a to-do list, a must-get-through-this, but something she was irresistibly drawn to. It may not have started out that way. In her younger, more busy years, she might have had to force herself to pray. But something happened to her along the way---she got hungry for God.
Her hunger culminated in golden years of worship. What if my life goal was to spend my retirement in praising God? What a goal! What a longing! Let each year add breadth, depth, and hunger to my walk with God.
Here's something amazing about Anna. She was living a Revelation lifestyle.
"Each of the four living creatures had six wings and was covered with eyes all around, even under his wings. Day and night they never stop saying:
'Holy, holy, holy
is the Lord God almighty,
who was, and is, and is to come'
Whenever the living creatures give glory, honor and thanks to him who sits on the throne and who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down before him who sits on the throne, and worship him who lives for ever and ever. They lay their crowns before the throne and say:
'You are worthy, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they were created
and have their being' (Revelation 4:8-11)
"[Anna] was very old" (Luke 2:36). She was either 84 years old, or she had been a widow for 84 years. Either way she was old.
Now when you are old, you are supposed to take a break, move to Florida, play golf or shuffle board, and enjoy long warm days on the beach drinking virgin pina coladas.
But Anna didn't get that memo. No, her old age was spent in worship. She "never left the temple but worshiped night and day, fasting and praying" (Luke 2:37).
Worship consumed her.
The time she spent in the temple was not on a checklist, a to-do list, a must-get-through-this, but something she was irresistibly drawn to. It may not have started out that way. In her younger, more busy years, she might have had to force herself to pray. But something happened to her along the way---she got hungry for God.
Her hunger culminated in golden years of worship. What if my life goal was to spend my retirement in praising God? What a goal! What a longing! Let each year add breadth, depth, and hunger to my walk with God.
Here's something amazing about Anna. She was living a Revelation lifestyle.
"Each of the four living creatures had six wings and was covered with eyes all around, even under his wings. Day and night they never stop saying:
'Holy, holy, holy
is the Lord God almighty,
who was, and is, and is to come'
Whenever the living creatures give glory, honor and thanks to him who sits on the throne and who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down before him who sits on the throne, and worship him who lives for ever and ever. They lay their crowns before the throne and say:
'You are worthy, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they were created
and have their being' (Revelation 4:8-11)
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Hometown
Matthew 2:19-23
Like many people I run into difficulty when people ask me, "Where are you from?" Do I tell them which city I live in? The city I was born in? The city I spent the most time in? The city I liked the most? I have lived too many places to have a hometown. So what I love about Jesus is that he had a hometown. He was Jesus of Nazareth--not Jesus, of Jerusalem, or Jesus of the Decapolis--but Jesus OF Nazareth.
God chose a specific place, a specific time, and a specific city to send his son to. It's one of those hard-to-wrap-my-mind-around concepts--the omnipresent God chose a location. Eternity chose time.
Specificity is not something we expect of God. We reason that God is big, so he must do big things. He must work in trends, populations, statistics. For example, we feel reasonably happy if church conference had several thousand in attendance (that's awe-inspiring), but rarely get goosebumps over a conversation between friends that ends with prayer.
So God's act of saving the world comes as a jolt. He doesn't start with a large crowd. He starts with a baby. This might be the mustard seed that Matthew talked about that becomes a great tree. God starts small. He says, "I've given you my Son in this child"--A child who will skin his knee, a child who will have nightmares, a child who will get sick, a child who will be vulnerable to life's frailties.
Yes, God could have come with a large bang. He could have had an angel air show. He could have put on some heavenly fireworks. But instead he sent the one who had "no beauty or majesty to attract us to him" (Isaiah 53:2). There was "nothing in his appearance that we should desire him" (Isaiah 53:2). "He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering" (Isaiah 53:3).
This baby turned obedient son turned a faithful young man turned teacher turned a dying "criminal"--"took our infirmities and carried our sorrows" (Isaiah 53:4).
I'm so grateful that God knew his Son would need a hometown. That his Son would teach
his followers and they would teach others and those others still others. I sometimes shiver with awe to think that the story of my own walk with God comes from a disciple who sat at Jesus feet then taught another disciple and that disciple yet another disciple. Every Christian today can trace (if they had the records) the story of Christ in their lives back to those first twelve.
From outside appearances Jesus's life was just one human life--just another name to be recorded in a census, just another male to pay taxes to the Romans. But the incarnation reverberates all the way down to today.
Thank you Father for sending your son. Thank you Jesus for coming. Thank you Holy Spirit for fanning this story and letting the fire never die out.
Like many people I run into difficulty when people ask me, "Where are you from?" Do I tell them which city I live in? The city I was born in? The city I spent the most time in? The city I liked the most? I have lived too many places to have a hometown. So what I love about Jesus is that he had a hometown. He was Jesus of Nazareth--not Jesus, of Jerusalem, or Jesus of the Decapolis--but Jesus OF Nazareth.
God chose a specific place, a specific time, and a specific city to send his son to. It's one of those hard-to-wrap-my-mind-around concepts--the omnipresent God chose a location. Eternity chose time.
Specificity is not something we expect of God. We reason that God is big, so he must do big things. He must work in trends, populations, statistics. For example, we feel reasonably happy if church conference had several thousand in attendance (that's awe-inspiring), but rarely get goosebumps over a conversation between friends that ends with prayer.
So God's act of saving the world comes as a jolt. He doesn't start with a large crowd. He starts with a baby. This might be the mustard seed that Matthew talked about that becomes a great tree. God starts small. He says, "I've given you my Son in this child"--A child who will skin his knee, a child who will have nightmares, a child who will get sick, a child who will be vulnerable to life's frailties.
Yes, God could have come with a large bang. He could have had an angel air show. He could have put on some heavenly fireworks. But instead he sent the one who had "no beauty or majesty to attract us to him" (Isaiah 53:2). There was "nothing in his appearance that we should desire him" (Isaiah 53:2). "He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering" (Isaiah 53:3).
This baby turned obedient son turned a faithful young man turned teacher turned a dying "criminal"--"took our infirmities and carried our sorrows" (Isaiah 53:4).
I'm so grateful that God knew his Son would need a hometown. That his Son would teach
his followers and they would teach others and those others still others. I sometimes shiver with awe to think that the story of my own walk with God comes from a disciple who sat at Jesus feet then taught another disciple and that disciple yet another disciple. Every Christian today can trace (if they had the records) the story of Christ in their lives back to those first twelve.
From outside appearances Jesus's life was just one human life--just another name to be recorded in a census, just another male to pay taxes to the Romans. But the incarnation reverberates all the way down to today.
Thank you Father for sending your son. Thank you Jesus for coming. Thank you Holy Spirit for fanning this story and letting the fire never die out.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
The Magi
Matthew 2:1-12
I'm not sure how it happened, but in high school I ended up as a wise man in our choir's nativity play. (I guess the role for Mary was already taken.) Like most nativity plays, our nativity play had Mary and Joesph sit next to the baby Jesus while the shepherds came and then the wise men promptly followed. The way the average nativity goes--it all seems to have happened in one glorious night, but it couldn't have happened that way. Jesus was circumcised eight days after his birth and Joesph and Mary had to flee Israel after the wise men came.
We also don't really know how long they stayed with Mary and Joesph. Our plays always get us to the point where the wise men come and worship Jesus, but they don't take us any farther. I have many questions about the wise men's visit to Bethlehem. What did they do after they had worshiped? Did they eat with Mary and Joseph afterwards? How much did they interact with Mary and Joseph? Did they talk through the night? Did they set up camp near the stable? Did they find lodging somewhere else? How did the towns people react?
There's much I don't know, but there's one thing I know for sure. Emotions ran high for them; "they were overjoyed" (Matthew 2:10). Their long quest had been fulfilled. They had sought a king and found him.
Their hearts must have been hungry long before they star appeared. They were looking for something and Jesus was whom they found.
Lord, when I search and hunger for something greater than my life, remind me that I look for you.
I'm not sure how it happened, but in high school I ended up as a wise man in our choir's nativity play. (I guess the role for Mary was already taken.) Like most nativity plays, our nativity play had Mary and Joesph sit next to the baby Jesus while the shepherds came and then the wise men promptly followed. The way the average nativity goes--it all seems to have happened in one glorious night, but it couldn't have happened that way. Jesus was circumcised eight days after his birth and Joesph and Mary had to flee Israel after the wise men came.
We also don't really know how long they stayed with Mary and Joesph. Our plays always get us to the point where the wise men come and worship Jesus, but they don't take us any farther. I have many questions about the wise men's visit to Bethlehem. What did they do after they had worshiped? Did they eat with Mary and Joseph afterwards? How much did they interact with Mary and Joseph? Did they talk through the night? Did they set up camp near the stable? Did they find lodging somewhere else? How did the towns people react?
There's much I don't know, but there's one thing I know for sure. Emotions ran high for them; "they were overjoyed" (Matthew 2:10). Their long quest had been fulfilled. They had sought a king and found him.
Their hearts must have been hungry long before they star appeared. They were looking for something and Jesus was whom they found.
Lord, when I search and hunger for something greater than my life, remind me that I look for you.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Ramah
Matthew 2:13-23
". . . An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. 'Get up,' he said, 'take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod s going to search for the child to kill him" (Matthew 2:13)
Joseph must have woken up from his dream with a start. I imagine he woke Mary up immediately. "Mary, we must go." They must have gathered their small possessions and loaded their donkey in the dark. They would have had no time to say goodbye to any new friends. They would have had no time to send a message back to their home in Nazareth. There was no Internet, no phone, and no decent postal system. It might have been months before anyone knew what had become of them and that they were safely living in Egypt.
Joseph, Mary & Jesus escaped, but the Bethlehem's sons did not. The story takes a painful turn here. "When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity" (Matthew 2:16).
The verse that Matthew uses from Jeremiah to explain the killing is filled with pathos:
"A voice is heard in Ramah,
weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children
and refusing to be comforted,
because they are no more." (Matthew 2:18)
Ramah. "When Jerusalem was destroyed by the Babylonians, those taken captive were assembled in Ramah before being moved to Babylon (Jeremiah 40:1). Jeremiah said: A voice was heard at Ramah, Rachel was weeping over her sons, because they were no more. (Jer. 31:15). Rachel had so desired children that she considered herself dead without them. (Gen. 30:1)"
"Jeremiah said that she was figuratively weeping because of the loss of the people killed or taken in captivity. And since she was the mother of Benjamin, it would fit because those in Ramah were Benjamites.
"Ramah is the town that was home to Samuel's mother Hannah and his father Elkhana, from which they journeyed to the sanctuary at Shiloh, where Hannah prayed to God to end her barren-ness and give her a child. ( 1 Sam 1-2)." (Ramah in Benjamin)*
Ramah is the city of barrenness, brokenness, and exile. The mother's of Bethlehem understood Ramah in their souls. It's hard to understand this. I wish the angel could have told all the mother's. Leave now! But he didn't.
Although Jesus did escape, he did not escape for long. Thirty-three years is not a long escape from death. When Jesus was walking to Calvary, a large number of wailing women followed him. Luke says that "Jesus turned and said to them, 'Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. For the time will come when you will say, 'Blessed are the barren women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed! Then 'they will say to the mountains, 'Fall on us!' and to the hills, 'Cover us!' for if men do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?" (Luke 23:27-31).
I hear a response to the women of Bethlehem here. The compassionate Savior even in his own death stops to listen to the voices that cry from Ramah.
*I'm quoting from Wikipedia here .
". . . An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. 'Get up,' he said, 'take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod s going to search for the child to kill him" (Matthew 2:13)
Joseph must have woken up from his dream with a start. I imagine he woke Mary up immediately. "Mary, we must go." They must have gathered their small possessions and loaded their donkey in the dark. They would have had no time to say goodbye to any new friends. They would have had no time to send a message back to their home in Nazareth. There was no Internet, no phone, and no decent postal system. It might have been months before anyone knew what had become of them and that they were safely living in Egypt.
Joseph, Mary & Jesus escaped, but the Bethlehem's sons did not. The story takes a painful turn here. "When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity" (Matthew 2:16).
The verse that Matthew uses from Jeremiah to explain the killing is filled with pathos:
"A voice is heard in Ramah,
weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children
and refusing to be comforted,
because they are no more." (Matthew 2:18)
Ramah. "When Jerusalem was destroyed by the Babylonians, those taken captive were assembled in Ramah before being moved to Babylon (Jeremiah 40:1). Jeremiah said: A voice was heard at Ramah, Rachel was weeping over her sons, because they were no more. (Jer. 31:15). Rachel had so desired children that she considered herself dead without them. (Gen. 30:1)"
"Jeremiah said that she was figuratively weeping because of the loss of the people killed or taken in captivity. And since she was the mother of Benjamin, it would fit because those in Ramah were Benjamites.
"Ramah is the town that was home to Samuel's mother Hannah and his father Elkhana, from which they journeyed to the sanctuary at Shiloh, where Hannah prayed to God to end her barren-ness and give her a child. ( 1 Sam 1-2)." (Ramah in Benjamin)*
Ramah is the city of barrenness, brokenness, and exile. The mother's of Bethlehem understood Ramah in their souls. It's hard to understand this. I wish the angel could have told all the mother's. Leave now! But he didn't.
Although Jesus did escape, he did not escape for long. Thirty-three years is not a long escape from death. When Jesus was walking to Calvary, a large number of wailing women followed him. Luke says that "Jesus turned and said to them, 'Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. For the time will come when you will say, 'Blessed are the barren women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed! Then 'they will say to the mountains, 'Fall on us!' and to the hills, 'Cover us!' for if men do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?" (Luke 23:27-31).
I hear a response to the women of Bethlehem here. The compassionate Savior even in his own death stops to listen to the voices that cry from Ramah.
*I'm quoting from Wikipedia here .
Monday, January 9, 2012
Simeon
Luke 2: 21-39
I wonder how the day started out for Mary and Joseph the day Jesus was circumcised. If it's hard to get babies out the door today, what would it have been like in their day? Did they walk the four miles from Bethlehem to Jerusalem? Or did they stay overnight with a friend in Jerusalem? Did they come alone or did they bring relatives? There is so much we don't know.
I also wonder what it was like for Simeon the day Jesus was circumcised. Did he take a cold bath in the early morning dark? What did he pray about? Did he pray that morning for a Messiah? How did the Spirit stir his heart? At what point did he know Mary and Joseph were the couple he must approach?
I wish I could have been there to see it. I wish I could have seen what Mary and Joseph looked like as they walked through the courtyard. (They must have looked so young and ordinary.) I wish I could have seen Simeon get up from where he was sitting in he courtyard and walk toward them, and I wish I could have heard his prayer:
"Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel" (Luke 2:29-32).
The prayer is profoundly touching. For Simeon, holding Jesus was the fulfillment of a lifetime of prayers and longings. I imagine how sweet his joy was in that moment. Then there's the first line of the prayer, "dismiss your servant in peace." He's ready; he's done. He can now die.
I love how God works. This moment in the temple is an intersection between the young and the old. Those who have prayed and those who will live those prayers. Simeon told them that "a sword will pierce your own soul too." No doubt his prayer offered a balm to Mary when the sword cut her so deeply.
I wonder how the day started out for Mary and Joseph the day Jesus was circumcised. If it's hard to get babies out the door today, what would it have been like in their day? Did they walk the four miles from Bethlehem to Jerusalem? Or did they stay overnight with a friend in Jerusalem? Did they come alone or did they bring relatives? There is so much we don't know.
I also wonder what it was like for Simeon the day Jesus was circumcised. Did he take a cold bath in the early morning dark? What did he pray about? Did he pray that morning for a Messiah? How did the Spirit stir his heart? At what point did he know Mary and Joseph were the couple he must approach?
I wish I could have been there to see it. I wish I could have seen what Mary and Joseph looked like as they walked through the courtyard. (They must have looked so young and ordinary.) I wish I could have seen Simeon get up from where he was sitting in he courtyard and walk toward them, and I wish I could have heard his prayer:
"Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel" (Luke 2:29-32).
The prayer is profoundly touching. For Simeon, holding Jesus was the fulfillment of a lifetime of prayers and longings. I imagine how sweet his joy was in that moment. Then there's the first line of the prayer, "dismiss your servant in peace." He's ready; he's done. He can now die.
I love how God works. This moment in the temple is an intersection between the young and the old. Those who have prayed and those who will live those prayers. Simeon told them that "a sword will pierce your own soul too." No doubt his prayer offered a balm to Mary when the sword cut her so deeply.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Holy to the Lord
Luke 2:21-24
When I study the Bible I often read several different Bible versions. This morning I was intrigued with the way that the King James described why Jesus was circumcised. It says: "As it is written in the law of the Lord, Every male that openeth up a womb shall be called holy to the Lord" (Luke 2:23).
I liked the imagery. "openeth up a womb" is much more descriptive than "every firstborn male". The KJV's specific wording of "holy to the Lord" instead of the NIV's "consecrated to the Lord" also caught my attention. It reminded me of a text I read recently describing how Aaron was to be dressed as a high priest. The verse said, "Make a plate of pure gold and engrave on it as on a seal: HOLY TO THE LORD. . . .It will be on Aaron's forehead, and he will bear the guilt involved in the sacred gifts the Israelites consecrate, whatever their gifts may be. It will be on Aaron's forehead continually so that they will be acceptable to the LORD" (Exodus 28: 36,38).
Jesus was consecrated as a newborn to be holy to the Lord. He has been set aside to make us acceptable to God.
"Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are --yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in our time of need" (Hebrews 4:14-16).
When I study the Bible I often read several different Bible versions. This morning I was intrigued with the way that the King James described why Jesus was circumcised. It says: "As it is written in the law of the Lord, Every male that openeth up a womb shall be called holy to the Lord" (Luke 2:23).
I liked the imagery. "openeth up a womb" is much more descriptive than "every firstborn male". The KJV's specific wording of "holy to the Lord" instead of the NIV's "consecrated to the Lord" also caught my attention. It reminded me of a text I read recently describing how Aaron was to be dressed as a high priest. The verse said, "Make a plate of pure gold and engrave on it as on a seal: HOLY TO THE LORD. . . .It will be on Aaron's forehead, and he will bear the guilt involved in the sacred gifts the Israelites consecrate, whatever their gifts may be. It will be on Aaron's forehead continually so that they will be acceptable to the LORD" (Exodus 28: 36,38).
Jesus was consecrated as a newborn to be holy to the Lord. He has been set aside to make us acceptable to God.
"Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are --yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in our time of need" (Hebrews 4:14-16).
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Good Will
Luke 2: 8-20
It's impossible for me to read the following selection from Luke without hearing the music from Handel's Messiah
And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. . . .And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace,
Good will towards men. Luke 2:9-11, 13-14
Handel's arrangement of the music is powerful, but the reality would have been dumb founding. So dumb founding that the shepherd's are aptly described in King's James English as "sore afraid". And no wonder they were sore afraid. They didn't get a solo; they got the choir--"a multitude of the heavenly host".
For a moment heaven broke through to earth and oh how heaven broke through--with a joy so exponential that there's no number to measure it. I consider this moment God's gift to the angels. It's as if he said, "I know you're excited. Go, sing!"
The message that the choir sang is simple. It has two parts: praise to God--"Glory to God in the highest!" and God's intention for humanity: "Peace and good will toward men."
It is the latter part of the message that catches my attention. What does heaven have for earth? Heaven has "good will toward men".
What does it mean to have good will? Good will is wanting the best for someone. It is longing for another person's happiness. It is crying at a friend's wedding; it is rejoicing in a colleague's promotion. This is heaven's stance: good will toward men.
In Zephaniah, God is described as singing over us. "The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save, He [takes] great delight in you. . . .He [rejoices] over you with singing." (Zephaniah 3:16). I imagine his song is not a solo, but it is joined by the largest backup choir ever--the heavenly host. How strange to think that this little world--in its sinful, confused, selfish, hurting state--is so overwhelmingly loved.
It's impossible for me to read the following selection from Luke without hearing the music from Handel's Messiah
And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. . . .And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace,
Good will towards men. Luke 2:9-11, 13-14
Handel's arrangement of the music is powerful, but the reality would have been dumb founding. So dumb founding that the shepherd's are aptly described in King's James English as "sore afraid". And no wonder they were sore afraid. They didn't get a solo; they got the choir--"a multitude of the heavenly host".
For a moment heaven broke through to earth and oh how heaven broke through--with a joy so exponential that there's no number to measure it. I consider this moment God's gift to the angels. It's as if he said, "I know you're excited. Go, sing!"
The message that the choir sang is simple. It has two parts: praise to God--"Glory to God in the highest!" and God's intention for humanity: "Peace and good will toward men."
It is the latter part of the message that catches my attention. What does heaven have for earth? Heaven has "good will toward men".
What does it mean to have good will? Good will is wanting the best for someone. It is longing for another person's happiness. It is crying at a friend's wedding; it is rejoicing in a colleague's promotion. This is heaven's stance: good will toward men.
In Zephaniah, God is described as singing over us. "The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save, He [takes] great delight in you. . . .He [rejoices] over you with singing." (Zephaniah 3:16). I imagine his song is not a solo, but it is joined by the largest backup choir ever--the heavenly host. How strange to think that this little world--in its sinful, confused, selfish, hurting state--is so overwhelmingly loved.
Friday, January 6, 2012
The Tale of Two Josephs
Matthew 1:24,25
There are two Josephs in the Bible. The first was a favored son turned slave then ruler. The second was an ordinary carpenter turned father of the Most High God. One saved his people from destitution; the other raised the One who would save his people from destruction. Both were honored, privileged for the role they played in God's kingdom, and both showed remarkable sexual self-control.
The first Joseph turned down the advances of Potiphar's wife by saying, "How then could I do such a wicked thing against God?" (Genesis 39:9). The second Joseph "had no union with [Mary] until she gave birth to a son" (Matthew 1:25).
Often the attitude is "as long as the person gets the job done it doesn't matter what his sexual proclivities are." So why does the Bible take a different stand? Why does it even point out that Joseph #1 consistently resisted Potiphar's wife's advances or that Joesph #2 refrained from having sex with Mary until Jesus was born?
I think the Bible shows the value of purity because God is so interested in love.
Purity is at the heart of love. The same self-control needed, the same attitude of honoring God's law above one's desire is a strong foundation for loving other people well. The first painful lesson of childhood, "the world does not center around me" is reinforced when a person takes a serious step at living purely: purity teaches "the world does not center around my desires".
Sexual restraint in Joesph #2's case was good for another reason. It provided a place for his faith to grow. Joseph could have ignored the angel's reference to "the virgin will be with child" (Matthew 1:23). No one would have known the better. But by allowing the prophecy to be fulfilled according to the Bible, Joseph always had just a little more room to believe. If Joseph had had sex with his wife, there would have always been a lingering doubt. What if Jesus really was his son? What if the prophecy was just something he and Mary had conjured up together?
There are two Josephs in the Bible. The first was a favored son turned slave then ruler. The second was an ordinary carpenter turned father of the Most High God. One saved his people from destitution; the other raised the One who would save his people from destruction. Both were honored, privileged for the role they played in God's kingdom, and both showed remarkable sexual self-control.
The first Joseph turned down the advances of Potiphar's wife by saying, "How then could I do such a wicked thing against God?" (Genesis 39:9). The second Joseph "had no union with [Mary] until she gave birth to a son" (Matthew 1:25).
Often the attitude is "as long as the person gets the job done it doesn't matter what his sexual proclivities are." So why does the Bible take a different stand? Why does it even point out that Joseph #1 consistently resisted Potiphar's wife's advances or that Joesph #2 refrained from having sex with Mary until Jesus was born?
I think the Bible shows the value of purity because God is so interested in love.
Purity is at the heart of love. The same self-control needed, the same attitude of honoring God's law above one's desire is a strong foundation for loving other people well. The first painful lesson of childhood, "the world does not center around me" is reinforced when a person takes a serious step at living purely: purity teaches "the world does not center around my desires".
Sexual restraint in Joesph #2's case was good for another reason. It provided a place for his faith to grow. Joseph could have ignored the angel's reference to "the virgin will be with child" (Matthew 1:23). No one would have known the better. But by allowing the prophecy to be fulfilled according to the Bible, Joseph always had just a little more room to believe. If Joseph had had sex with his wife, there would have always been a lingering doubt. What if Jesus really was his son? What if the prophecy was just something he and Mary had conjured up together?
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Joesph's Dream
Matthew 1:20-24
I wonder how much time passed between Joesph knowing that Mary was pregnant and being told by the angel that Mary's pregnancy was Holy-Spirit conceived. I suspect it was more than just a couple of days. God seems to enjoy a little tension and suspense(just think of the years Abraham waited for a son or the breath-taking-last-minute-no-where-to-go-save of the the Red Sea crossing).
When the time finally did come, when the angel most likely startled Joesph in his dream, Joseph must have felt a tremendous relief, but it was a relief that was most likely followed by terror. "Joseph, Mary has not cheated on you; you will now be the father of a deity."
Terror/awe/wonder often stuns people into inaction, so I'm grateful that the angel tells Joesph exactly what to do: "Joseph. . . . take Mary home as your wife. . . . [and] give [your son] the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins" (Matthew 1:20,21).
I love Jesus' name. It means, "The Lord saves." Before Jesus took his first breath in this world, he had already been named; his mission had already been laid out for him. Matthew ties Jesus' name to a prophecy in Isaiah, "'The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel'--which means, 'God with us'" (Matthew 1:22,23). I have at times wondered what the connection was between the meaning of "the Lord saves" and "God with us", but I recently read in Andrew Murray's book The Blessing of Obedience a thought that connects those two names:
"The secret of true obedience is a close and unmistakable personal relationship with God.... It is God's holy presence consciously abiding with us that keeps us from disobeying Him. . . . The only power to obey is in the presence of God" (Murray 523).
How does Jesus save us? He is with us! He is with us in taking our sin; he is with us in living our lives. He walks with us even now, and in his presence our sin runs away.
I wonder how much time passed between Joesph knowing that Mary was pregnant and being told by the angel that Mary's pregnancy was Holy-Spirit conceived. I suspect it was more than just a couple of days. God seems to enjoy a little tension and suspense(just think of the years Abraham waited for a son or the breath-taking-last-minute-no-where-to-go-save of the the Red Sea crossing).
When the time finally did come, when the angel most likely startled Joesph in his dream, Joseph must have felt a tremendous relief, but it was a relief that was most likely followed by terror. "Joseph, Mary has not cheated on you; you will now be the father of a deity."
Terror/awe/wonder often stuns people into inaction, so I'm grateful that the angel tells Joesph exactly what to do: "Joseph. . . . take Mary home as your wife. . . . [and] give [your son] the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins" (Matthew 1:20,21).
I love Jesus' name. It means, "The Lord saves." Before Jesus took his first breath in this world, he had already been named; his mission had already been laid out for him. Matthew ties Jesus' name to a prophecy in Isaiah, "'The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel'--which means, 'God with us'" (Matthew 1:22,23). I have at times wondered what the connection was between the meaning of "the Lord saves" and "God with us", but I recently read in Andrew Murray's book The Blessing of Obedience a thought that connects those two names:
"The secret of true obedience is a close and unmistakable personal relationship with God.... It is God's holy presence consciously abiding with us that keeps us from disobeying Him. . . . The only power to obey is in the presence of God" (Murray 523).
How does Jesus save us? He is with us! He is with us in taking our sin; he is with us in living our lives. He walks with us even now, and in his presence our sin runs away.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Rejoice in the Lord
Luke 1:46-48
I have so far been focusing on how difficult it must have been for Mary to be given the job as mother of the Messiah, but I'd hate to lose out on another element--joy!
"My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior..." (Luke 1:47). It's the second part of the sentence catches me off guard. Her spirit rejoices IN God. Her happiness is not a frothy bubbly wave of emotion that crests then rescinds; it is not a positive attitude based on her own success--it is a rejoicing in God. Her joy is shared with God, her joy draws her closer to God--her joy has a sweet intimacy to it.
Years before Mary, there was another woman who rejoiced IN the Lord. After Hannah dedicated Samuel, she said, "My heart rejoices in the LORD; in the LORD my horn is lifted high" (1 Samuel 2:1). Samuel was the fulfillment of Hannah's long prayers and profoundest dreams.
How was Jesus a fulfillment of Mary's prayers? What had Mary longed for up until the day that Gabriel appeared to her? Had she prayed for a Messiah? Had she seen the suffering of her people? Had she wondered when it would all end?
In Mary's song she says: "He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty" (Luke 1:52,53). She is echoing Hannah's prayer here. She sees that when God steps into history something changes. The world will not always be cruel, unjust,and heart breaking. The poor will become rich, the hungry will be fed, the humble will be exalted.
This is a prayer that is still being answered. It's still be unfolded and woven into human history, but when Christ comes again the prayer will ultimately be answered. Then all of our hearts will rejoice in the Lord.
I have so far been focusing on how difficult it must have been for Mary to be given the job as mother of the Messiah, but I'd hate to lose out on another element--joy!
"My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior..." (Luke 1:47). It's the second part of the sentence catches me off guard. Her spirit rejoices IN God. Her happiness is not a frothy bubbly wave of emotion that crests then rescinds; it is not a positive attitude based on her own success--it is a rejoicing in God. Her joy is shared with God, her joy draws her closer to God--her joy has a sweet intimacy to it.
Years before Mary, there was another woman who rejoiced IN the Lord. After Hannah dedicated Samuel, she said, "My heart rejoices in the LORD; in the LORD my horn is lifted high" (1 Samuel 2:1). Samuel was the fulfillment of Hannah's long prayers and profoundest dreams.
How was Jesus a fulfillment of Mary's prayers? What had Mary longed for up until the day that Gabriel appeared to her? Had she prayed for a Messiah? Had she seen the suffering of her people? Had she wondered when it would all end?
In Mary's song she says: "He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty" (Luke 1:52,53). She is echoing Hannah's prayer here. She sees that when God steps into history something changes. The world will not always be cruel, unjust,and heart breaking. The poor will become rich, the hungry will be fed, the humble will be exalted.
This is a prayer that is still being answered. It's still be unfolded and woven into human history, but when Christ comes again the prayer will ultimately be answered. Then all of our hearts will rejoice in the Lord.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Mercy for Mary
Luke 1:26-45
My friend's husband, an ER nurse, once had a patient who claimed to be God and another patient who claimed to be Satan come into the Emergency Department on the same night. We laugh at these people. But what happens to a person whose mission from God makes her look just as ridiculous? I try to imagine Mary explaining to her closest friends and family that not only was she still a virgin and pregnant but that her son would be the Messiah. The story must have made Mary feel a little crazy herself.
But here is where God's mercy stepped in for Mary. He didn't just let Mary know that she was going to be pregnant then let her struggle alone with the implications of this news. He sent her a friend in her barren-cousin-now-pregnant Elizabeth.
Luke says that Mary hurried to see Elizabeth (Luke 1:39).When Mary arrived at Elizabeth's home, she was not disappointed. Elizabeth greeted her with, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!" (Luke 1:42-45).
Elizabeth's confirmation of Gabriel's annunciation brought Mary much joy and peace. I believe it was then that she was able to fully celebrate the mysterious-wonder of being the mother to the Messiah. Elizabeth, as an older mentor-friend, would have also provided Mary with much wisdom and security. Then there was the simple gift of understanding that Elizabeth would have given Mary. I imagine the two of them staying up late under the Judean stars discussing and wondering over their roles as soon-to-be-mothers of the greatest men on earth. There would have been also a homely comfort for Mary in Elizabeth's presence. Who better to understand Mary's morning sickness? Who better to pull back her hair when she was throwing up and tell her that she would be okay?
I'm grateful for God's mercy to Mary in sending her Elizabeth. Mary's three months with Elizabeth must have held her through many storms. How Mary must have treasured her memories at Elizabeth and Zechariah's home as she fled to Egypt, as she struggled with the burden of raising the Messiah, as she worried for her son during his ministry, as her heart was pierced when he died. She had the memory of a friend to sustain her.
God asks of us sometimes the impossible. He gives us blessings and burdens that are beyond are capacity to handle. And often in the middle of impossible God sends us an Elizabeth. An Elizabeth to confirm our faith. An Elizabeth to give us courage. An Elizabeth to comfort us.
My friend's husband, an ER nurse, once had a patient who claimed to be God and another patient who claimed to be Satan come into the Emergency Department on the same night. We laugh at these people. But what happens to a person whose mission from God makes her look just as ridiculous? I try to imagine Mary explaining to her closest friends and family that not only was she still a virgin and pregnant but that her son would be the Messiah. The story must have made Mary feel a little crazy herself.
But here is where God's mercy stepped in for Mary. He didn't just let Mary know that she was going to be pregnant then let her struggle alone with the implications of this news. He sent her a friend in her barren-cousin-now-pregnant Elizabeth.
Luke says that Mary hurried to see Elizabeth (Luke 1:39).When Mary arrived at Elizabeth's home, she was not disappointed. Elizabeth greeted her with, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!" (Luke 1:42-45).
Elizabeth's confirmation of Gabriel's annunciation brought Mary much joy and peace. I believe it was then that she was able to fully celebrate the mysterious-wonder of being the mother to the Messiah. Elizabeth, as an older mentor-friend, would have also provided Mary with much wisdom and security. Then there was the simple gift of understanding that Elizabeth would have given Mary. I imagine the two of them staying up late under the Judean stars discussing and wondering over their roles as soon-to-be-mothers of the greatest men on earth. There would have been also a homely comfort for Mary in Elizabeth's presence. Who better to understand Mary's morning sickness? Who better to pull back her hair when she was throwing up and tell her that she would be okay?
I'm grateful for God's mercy to Mary in sending her Elizabeth. Mary's three months with Elizabeth must have held her through many storms. How Mary must have treasured her memories at Elizabeth and Zechariah's home as she fled to Egypt, as she struggled with the burden of raising the Messiah, as she worried for her son during his ministry, as her heart was pierced when he died. She had the memory of a friend to sustain her.
God asks of us sometimes the impossible. He gives us blessings and burdens that are beyond are capacity to handle. And often in the middle of impossible God sends us an Elizabeth. An Elizabeth to confirm our faith. An Elizabeth to give us courage. An Elizabeth to comfort us.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Mary's Belly Bump
Matthew 1:18-20
I hate the word belly bump. I haven't quite pinned down why I find the phrase so distasteful. Maybe it's just the sound of it or maybe it the way that something so incredible as a pregnancy is described in such a casual cutesy way. Yet, it's the only phrase that I have now to describe Mary. Mary had a belly bump.
After Gabriel told Mary that she would become pregnant, she went to visit her cousin Elizabeth for three months. Most likely by the time she returned to Nazareth, she was showing.
Matthew says, "This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit" (Matthew 1:18).
How was she "found to be with child"? Did someone notice the slight bump? Who told Joesph? Was it Mary's family? Was it one of Joseph's friends? Was it an observant town gossiper? Did he notice it himself?
I'm trying to imagine what an engaged man might feel like to discover his fiance was pregnant through a another man. He would feel betrayed, jealous, disappointed, embarrassed, angry, and used.
I somehow imagine Joseph to have been a thoughtful man. He would had not chosen Mary willy-nilly. He had seen in her something of value. So to discover that she was pregnant would have come as an incredible shock. (It's harder to deal with the sins of saints than of known sinners.)
Finding out that Mary was pregnant would be similar to discovering someone had died. In the moment of discovery, Joseph would have lost not only his faith in the world but his future. What direction does someone move from betrayal?
Joseph could have reacted to his pain. He could have said, "Now she has hurt me. Let her feel that pain." He could have humiliated her and even worse had her stoned. But he didn't. "Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace he had in mind to divorce her quietly" (Matthew 1:18).
He lived the principle that "love covers over a multitude of sins" (1 Peter 4:8). He covered Mary. He shielded her from pain even though he was suffering.
The Bible does not say how long Joseph lived with the tension of knowing that Mary was pregnant before the angel came to tell him that "what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit" (Matthew 1:20). But I imagine that the news brought great relief to Joseph. He had moved from knowing he had a future to betrayal to being given back his future. And not just given back his future, but given something so incredible that he must have grappled in wonder at his new role: he would be the step-father to the Savior. He would raise a man more righteous than he could ever imagine, a man who would cover more than a multitude of sins.
I hate the word belly bump. I haven't quite pinned down why I find the phrase so distasteful. Maybe it's just the sound of it or maybe it the way that something so incredible as a pregnancy is described in such a casual cutesy way. Yet, it's the only phrase that I have now to describe Mary. Mary had a belly bump.
After Gabriel told Mary that she would become pregnant, she went to visit her cousin Elizabeth for three months. Most likely by the time she returned to Nazareth, she was showing.
Matthew says, "This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit" (Matthew 1:18).
How was she "found to be with child"? Did someone notice the slight bump? Who told Joesph? Was it Mary's family? Was it one of Joseph's friends? Was it an observant town gossiper? Did he notice it himself?
I'm trying to imagine what an engaged man might feel like to discover his fiance was pregnant through a another man. He would feel betrayed, jealous, disappointed, embarrassed, angry, and used.
I somehow imagine Joseph to have been a thoughtful man. He would had not chosen Mary willy-nilly. He had seen in her something of value. So to discover that she was pregnant would have come as an incredible shock. (It's harder to deal with the sins of saints than of known sinners.)
Finding out that Mary was pregnant would be similar to discovering someone had died. In the moment of discovery, Joseph would have lost not only his faith in the world but his future. What direction does someone move from betrayal?
Joseph could have reacted to his pain. He could have said, "Now she has hurt me. Let her feel that pain." He could have humiliated her and even worse had her stoned. But he didn't. "Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace he had in mind to divorce her quietly" (Matthew 1:18).
He lived the principle that "love covers over a multitude of sins" (1 Peter 4:8). He covered Mary. He shielded her from pain even though he was suffering.
The Bible does not say how long Joseph lived with the tension of knowing that Mary was pregnant before the angel came to tell him that "what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit" (Matthew 1:20). But I imagine that the news brought great relief to Joseph. He had moved from knowing he had a future to betrayal to being given back his future. And not just given back his future, but given something so incredible that he must have grappled in wonder at his new role: he would be the step-father to the Savior. He would raise a man more righteous than he could ever imagine, a man who would cover more than a multitude of sins.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Whose Son?
Matthew 1:1-17
When I was young, my father told me that some of my ancestors were from Wales. For awhile I was confused about why they were whales, but I eventually figured it out. My father often talked with me about our family history. From him, I learned about my grandparents, great-parents, and great-great grandparents. From him, I learned what European countries and which Native American tribes my family came from.
Joesph must have done the same with Jesus. I imagine him saying, "You are from the tribe of Judah son. This is a royal tribe. Our ancestors were kings." I imagine Jesus as a young boy reciting his family tree, "Abraham was the father of Isaac, Isaac the father of Jacob, Jacob the father of Judah. . ." (Matthew 1:4). Jesus knew his ancestors and his family history. But there was another story his parents told him. "Yes, Joseph's family is from the tribe of Judah, but Jesus you are conceived from the Holy Spirit."
If an adopted child must grapple with his identity, imagine how much more Jesus must have struggled to understand who he was. What did it mean to be conceived from the Holy Spirit? What did it mean to be "of the tribe of Judah" and yet "not of this world"?
Then there were the townspeople, the mockers. Those who called him "illegitimate, the bastard". "Really, Jesus," they must have said, "the Holy Spirit conceived you? Isn't that the strangest lie ever made up?"
There's something powerful about taunts give to us in childhood--those words tend to haunt us into our adult years. So it makes me wonder when the devil tempted Jesus, when he said, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down" (Matthew 4:5), if that was not the first time, Jesus had heard those words.
We are not privy to know how Jesus formed his identity, but I imagine that at Jesus's baptism, when God the father said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased" (Matthew 3:17)--that the Father's words were a seal to what he had already discovered. But how precious the Father's words must have been to him.
Whose son are you? "I'm the Son of God."
When I was young, my father told me that some of my ancestors were from Wales. For awhile I was confused about why they were whales, but I eventually figured it out. My father often talked with me about our family history. From him, I learned about my grandparents, great-parents, and great-great grandparents. From him, I learned what European countries and which Native American tribes my family came from.
Joesph must have done the same with Jesus. I imagine him saying, "You are from the tribe of Judah son. This is a royal tribe. Our ancestors were kings." I imagine Jesus as a young boy reciting his family tree, "Abraham was the father of Isaac, Isaac the father of Jacob, Jacob the father of Judah. . ." (Matthew 1:4). Jesus knew his ancestors and his family history. But there was another story his parents told him. "Yes, Joseph's family is from the tribe of Judah, but Jesus you are conceived from the Holy Spirit."
If an adopted child must grapple with his identity, imagine how much more Jesus must have struggled to understand who he was. What did it mean to be conceived from the Holy Spirit? What did it mean to be "of the tribe of Judah" and yet "not of this world"?
Then there were the townspeople, the mockers. Those who called him "illegitimate, the bastard". "Really, Jesus," they must have said, "the Holy Spirit conceived you? Isn't that the strangest lie ever made up?"
There's something powerful about taunts give to us in childhood--those words tend to haunt us into our adult years. So it makes me wonder when the devil tempted Jesus, when he said, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down" (Matthew 4:5), if that was not the first time, Jesus had heard those words.
We are not privy to know how Jesus formed his identity, but I imagine that at Jesus's baptism, when God the father said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased" (Matthew 3:17)--that the Father's words were a seal to what he had already discovered. But how precious the Father's words must have been to him.
Whose son are you? "I'm the Son of God."
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