Sunday, December 27, 2009

Christmas Leftovers

After Christmas there seems to be all sorts of leftovers – food in the fridge, half-price sales in the stores, a mess in the house. Joyfully we anticipated the coming of Christmas, but now that it is over, what do we have to show for it? Leftovers?

I think there is a great question for us to ask on the Sunday after Christmas – I am asking the congregation I pastor this question and I ask you as well – over this Christmas season did you get a chance to see Jesus?

The apostle John talks about that – he got to see the glory of God manifested before his very eyes. I love the way he words it in 1 John 1 – "What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we beheld and our hands handled, concerning the Word of Life – and the life was manifested, and we have seen and bear witness and proclaim to you." Historically John was one of those blessed few who saw the glory of God in the flesh.

There were others who had seen the glory of God – the splendor, the majesty of God Almighty. Isaiah in the temple, Moses before the burning bush, Israel in the cloud, Ezekiel and God’s throne. But this was different for John. "We beheld his glory," John says in John 1:14 – but it was not a glory that overwhelmed people, not a brilliance that blinded, not an excellence that shamed. No, as one writer put it, His splendor was robed in the coarse garment of human nature; His brilliance shone through the prism of human flesh, His excellence was seen in the light of our common day.

We beheld his glory, John says – and in his gospel he tells about the ministry of Jesus, His compassion for a woman at a well, a failure from every other person’s standards, an outcast, one who had crossed the line – and yet one who could receive from the Creator of the universe life.

We beheld his glory — we saw the lame walk, the leper cleansed, the hungry fed, the blind see.

We beheld his glory – and for John, that meant the suffering and the cross. John 1:14 declares, "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory" – we saw what he had come for, the moment in time when the cradle was replaced by a crown of thorns, when the baby’s coo became the Creator’s cry, when a mother wept not in joy, but in horror. We beheld his glory – His battle with death, His confrontation with sin, His paying of the ultimate price – that we might live.

We beheld his glory – that Easter morning the grave was opened and confusion and chaos was replaced by the shout, “He is alive! He is alive!”

We beheld His glory – the glory that brings the same confession as that which slipped from the lips of Thomas – “My Lord and My God!” Thomas saw the face of God in Jesus.

“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory.” And so here is the leftover question of the season – have you seen Jesus? If not, it’s not too late.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

On Christmas And Having Christ Within...

Every year she’s there. You can’t miss her, she is just off center, a look of love and adoration on her face. She has a robe on, and for some reason it is almost always blue. Her hair is covered, with a strand or two escaping the folds, long, often dark, sometimes blond, maybe red, a slight wave.

She is the mother of Jesus, and once a year we honor her, we give her a place in a manger scene, we dress up a little girl in a bathrobe and give her a plastic baby doll and let her walk on stage. Mary, the mother of Jesus. Mary, the one the angel called “blessed.

A lot of Christians don’t know what to do with Mary. Many things have been said about her through the centuries, and a good number of those have no basis in Scripture. Some even reflect a gross misunderstanding of Jesus. Bottom line, nobody knows us like Jesus, and a mother’s love is a distant second to the love of the Savior.

Still, Mary was in on things from the beginning. She received the angel’s greeting, and she pondered what it meant to have the Lord with her. If she has anything to teach us, it is in her response. Listen to her words in Luke 1:38, “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said.” What a contrast that is to other Biblical characters. When Abraham heard God’s promise, he didn’t know how to respond. Sarah responded with laughter. Zechariah asked for proof. But Mary simply responds with belief, a belief wrapped up in obedience. That should be our response as well.

We speak of having Jesus within us as Christ followers. Paul gives us a basis for that when he says in Galatians 2:20, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.” Max Lucado says that we must not miss out on the reason we are placed on this earth, to be so pregnant with heaven’s child that He lives through us. I really like that image – so pregnant with heaven’s child that He lives through us. What would that be like for us to have Christ within? Lucado writes these reflections in his book, Next Door Savior:

To have my voice, but him speaking.
My steps, but Christ leading.
My heart, but his love beating
in me, through me, with me.
What’s it like to have Christ on the inside?

To tap his strength when mine expires
or feel the force of heaven’s fires
raging, purging wrong desires.
Could Christ become my self entire?

So much him, so little me
that in my eyes it’s him they see.
What’s it like to a Mary be?
No longer I, but Christ in me.

And it all begins as we give God Mary’s response, “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said." May that response be our Christmas gift to God this year.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Old Friends

Something happened this week that brought delight to my soul. Three old friends made contact with me in as many days. Two of them were from a church I pastored in the early 1980's, and the third was a pastor friend I hadn’t seen or heard from in more than twenty-five years. Through Facebook, emails, and phone calls, we caught up on the happenings of those silent years, and I was reminded that life went on for each of us even if we had completely forgotten about each other’s existence. I am sure those years carried a lot of joys and sorrows for each of us, but it was good to know that God had continued His kindness to each, and that each of us had a journey to share.

We sometimes forget that the first Christmas was the breaking of the silence by an old friend – in this case, I should capitalize “Friend.” The Old Testament era ends with God’s people struggling to form a faith community again, clinging to the promise that some day God would send the Christ. As the years passed, I wonder if some forgot – forgot the promise, forgot the hope, maybe even forgot the Father. Those years were shaped by all the things that shape our lives – the ups and downs of economy, the birth of babies and the death of elders, the expected and the unexpected, the hoped for and the feared. And then one day God broke the silence – angels spoke to an old man and a young maiden, a dream assured a worried husband, and before all was said and done the heavens exploded with shouts of glory and the assurance that God, having once broken the silence, would never be silent again. As John puts it in John 1:14, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

Christmas reminds us of that Friend who wants to journey with us through life. He split the heavens and came in person into our midst, and now He comes to reside in the heart of every person who will receive Him. Spend some time catching Him up on the joys and sorrows of this past year. Yes, I know, He already knows them all, but it will do you good and you will find your spirit lifted and your soul delighted as you journey with this old Friend who promises never to leave you or forsake you. What a friend we have in Jesus -- One who will never lose touch with us!

Monday, December 7, 2009

Thirty-Five Years

Thirty-five years ago on December 7, 1974, my wife Holly and I were married. I have said to our children that we were just kids and didn’t know what we were doing, and I think there is more truth to that then I care to admit. I didn’t know how great marriage could be but also how difficult and challenging. For whatever reason, I thought if you picked the right person it was easy. I am sure there have been times in our marriage where my wife wondered if she picked the right person – but then, maybe she understood more what marriage would mean than I did.

I am fond of quoting David and Vera Mace when I perform weddings. They write, “A wedding is not a marriage. A wedding is only the beginning of an undertaking that may or may not, someday, develop into a marriage. What a couple have on their wedding day is not the key to a beautiful garden, but just a vacant lot and a few gardening tools.”

A vacant lot and a few gardening tools – most of us thought we were getting more than that when we said, “I do!” The years of marriage include a lot of hard work, breaking up the soil, tossing out the rocks, pulling weeds, planting seeds. But the years of marriage, if we work at it, also yield a great garden to enjoy with your beloved. I think it also makes us better people if we will accept what marriage offers us. We learn to put the other person first, deny ourselves for a greater good, be mature rather then petty, giving rather than grasping. I am not saying that this happens automatically or easily – in fact, we will wind up doing a lot of praying in the midst of it all. But again, when we accept what marriage offers, the payoff is tremendous and the joy is sweet.

Lewis Smedes once said that his wife had been married to seven different men in her lifetime, and everyone of them was him. My wife could probably say the same. We do change, just as our lives together change. Simplistically we may divide marriage according to tasks, whether it is starting out, having children, coping with teenagers, or facing the empty nest. But we do change – we change with the passage of time and the best marriages change as well, growing deeper and wiser and greater and stronger and more loving than ever. That has certainly been my experience, and for that I am grateful.

My son Chad was married this past year, and he shared a quote with me by C. S. Lewis. Lewis talks about “falling in love” as the engine that gets a marriage started, but it takes a lot more to keep it going. For Lewis love “is a deep unity maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced (in Christian marriage) by the grace which both partners ask and receive from God.”

Those are wise words – the unity of marriage requires an act of will, a daily choice to put the other before yourself. It is strengthened by habit, which means we all should pay attention to what our marriage habits are, whether they help or hinder marriage. And marriage calls on both partners to receive and extend the grace of God.

Thirty-five years ago I said I would take Holly for better for worse, in sickness and health, for good times and bad, be we rich or poor. I didn’t really know what all that meant then – but I have to tell you, thirty-five years later I am exceedingly grateful to share my life with Holly and I can’t imagine life in any other way. My wife said that thirty-five years is a long time – but we both agree it is not long enough!