Pilgrim Notes

Reflections along the way.

Tag: Uncategorized (page 8 of 12)

Adam and Eve

I recently posted a story on Cain and Abel. Working backward, here is a retelling of Adam and Eve. For churches following a Western liturgical calendar, Lent begins next week. This story is helpful for reflection as we will begin completating the reversing of this tragic tale. Note: Scriptures references intertwine this story and they are from THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language © 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved.

The story begins in a garden. This is appropriate because gardens are the place of beginnings.

In the middle of the place of beginnings, is adama literally “ruddy man.” We call him Adam.

And he is facing a dilemma. Who can he trust? Abba or the snake?

Can he rely on Abba’s Word? Can he rest in Abba’s kindness and goodness and love?

Ah the walks. The walks in the cool of the evening. As long as he can remember, Adam has spent his evenings walking alongside Abba, discussing his day and listening to Abba’s stories. Abba loves to tell stories. In fact, Abba’s stories that Adam has learned all that he knows.

Abba taught him about the animals. Abba told him funny animal stories. Abba told him how know and guide and watch the animals. Through Abba’s kindness, Adam named all the animals—rightly proclaiming the essence of who they were created to be.

Abba gave him Eve. It had been so long, and so glorious, and so fulfilling. She was his companion, his friend, his lover. She was his second set of eyes. Adam could not even imagine what life was like before Eve.

He tried and all he could remember were the stories. The stories from before the garden. Before the animals. Before the trees and flowers. Before the land and water. Before. Before. Before.

Adam remembers the stories before anything existed—only love within the Godhead. Abba dwelled in loving communion with the Father and Spirit. This loving, joyful, beautiful communion of persons is known as God. From the superabundance of this love, a decision was made to create someone who could share in the wonder of this unquenchable, unending love: but first a place for the new one.

Today when parents are expecting a newborn, they prepare a place, a nursery. Everything has to be just perfect. Colors of the room. Bed. Music. Story books. And everything a baby will need to grow and develop and become what they are. God creates such a place.

Genesis 1
1:1 Heaven and Earth

First this: God created the Heavens and Earth — all you see, all you don’t see. 2 Earth was a soup of nothingness, a bottomless emptiness, an inky blackness. God’s Spirit brooded like a bird above the watery abyss.
3 God spoke: “Light!”And light appeared. 4 God saw that light was good and separated light from dark. 5 God named the light Day,he named the dark Night.It was evening, it was morning — Day One.
6 God spoke: “Sky! In the middle of the waters;separate water from water!” 7 God made sky. He separated the water under sky from the water above sky.And there it was: 8 he named sky the Heavens;It was evening, it was morning — Day Two.
9 God spoke: “Separate!Water-beneath-Heaven, gather into one place;Land, appear!”And there it was. 10 God named the land Earth.He named the pooled water Ocean.God saw that it was good.
11 God spoke: “Earth, green up! Grow all varieties of seed-bearing plants,Every sort of fruit-bearing tree.”And there it was. 12 Earth produced green seed-bearing plants,all varieties,And fruit-bearing trees of all sorts.God saw that it was good. 13 It was evening, it was morning — Day Three.
14 God spoke: “Lights! Come out!Shine in Heaven’s sky!Separate Day from Night.Mark seasons and days and years, 15 Lights in Heaven’s sky to give light to Earth.”And there it was.
16 God made two big lights, the larger to take charge of Day, The smaller to be in charge of Night;and he made the stars. 17 God placed them in the heavenly sky to light up Earth 18 And oversee Day and Night,to separate light and dark. God saw that it was good. 19 It was evening, it was morning — Day Four.
20 God spoke: “Swarm, Ocean, with fish and all sea life!Birds, fly through the sky over Earth!” 21 God created the huge whales,all the swarm of life in the waters,And every kind and species of flying birds.God saw that it was good. 22 God blessed them: “Prosper! Reproduce! Fill Ocean!Birds, reproduce on Earth!” 23 It was evening, it was morning — Day Five.
24 God spoke: “Earth, generate life! Every sort and kind:cattle and reptiles and wild animals — all kinds.” And there it was: 25 wild animals of every kind,Cattle of all kinds, every sort of reptile and bug. God saw that it was good.
26 God spoke: “Let us make human beings in our image, make them reflecting our nature So they can be responsible for the fish in the sea,the birds in the air, the cattle,And, yes, Earth itself,and every animal that moves on the face of Earth.” 27 God created human beings;he created them godlike,Reflecting God’s nature.He created them male and female. 28 God blessed them: “Prosper! Reproduce! Fill Earth! Take charge!Be responsible for fish in the sea and birds in the air,for every living thing that moves on the face of Earth.”
29 Then God said, “I’ve given you every sort of seed-bearing plant on Earth And every kind of fruit-bearing tree,given them to you for food. 30 To all animals and all birds,everything that moves and breathes, I give whatever grows out of the ground for food.”And there it was.
31 God looked over everything he had made; it was so good, so very good! It was evening, it was morning — Day Six.
(from THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language © 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved.)

Adam rests in the expectation of the seventh day, contemplating the endless rest of this loving God. In their nightly talks, Abba spoke often of this loving communion, revealing to Adam his destiny to live and move and rest in the embrace of such love. Oh the stories Abba told. They were more than Adam could ever recount. Yet each story filled Adam with wonder and delight and anticipation. Everything Adam knew, his knew through the gentle guidance of Abba.

Now the question. Can Abba be trusted? The snake says otherwise. Pointing to Adam’s gleaming countenance, the snake reminds Adam of his own glory. He reveals secrets and mysteries Adam did not know. He invites Adam to enjoy a feast like he never tasted, power beyond his wildest imaginations and a court of angels to protect and praise Adam all day long. The snake questioned Abbas reliability. Abbas stories are only stories. Stories meant to control Adam: to keep him from his real destiny, his real throne, his proper place beside Abba.

The more Adam thought about the snakes’ song, the foggier his thoughts became. Abbas stories faded. And Adam grew angry. This deception cannot last one moment longer!

Adam takes what Abba did not give. He eats what Abba forbade. He believes what Abba denied.

Instantly, the skies darkened and shriek entered into the very fiber of creation. All things trembled in pain. All things began to die. Everything goes black and Adam dies. What seems like an eternity passes and Adam opens his eyes, the light is gone. Eve’s glory has departed. She no longer shimmers with the radiant light. Her body looks different. Odd. Almost like an animals’ hide. Adam looks down and realizes he looks like an animal as well.

In his very core, Adam feels something he has never known before–fear. Unbridled terror. And shame. Adam and Eve began running and running and running. In a moment, they’ve destroyed Abba’s glorious creation. In an act of pride, they sought to replace Abba and know realize the grotesque results of their impudence, their selfishness, their rebellion.

As they run in terror, they cry out in shame and bathe the wounded earth in their tears. Everything seems to cry with them. The world it coming undone. In the midst of the chaos, they hear him coming. Abba is here.

Genesis 3:9-19
9 GOD called to the Man: “Where are you?”
10 He said, “I heard you in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked. And I hid.”
11 GOD said, “Who told you you were naked? Did you eat from that tree I told you not to eat from?”
12 The Man said, “The Woman you gave me as a companion, she gave me fruit from the tree, and, yes, I ate it.”
13 GOD said to the Woman, “What is this that you’ve done?”
“The serpent seduced me,” she said, “and I ate.”
14 GOD told the serpent:
“Because you’ve done this, you’re cursed,cursed beyond all cattle and wild animals,Cursed to slink on your belly and eat dirt all your life. 15 I’m declaring war between you and the Woman,between your offspring and hers.He’ll wound your head,you’ll wound his heel.”
16 He told the Woman:
“I’ll multiply your pains in childbirth;you’ll give birth to your babies in pain.You’ll want to please your husband,but he’ll lord it over you.”
17 He told the Man:
“Because you listened to your wife and ate from the tree That I commanded you not to eat from,’Don’t eat from this tree,’The very ground is cursed because of you;getting food from the ground Will be as painful as having babies is for your wife;you’ll be working in pain all your life long. 18 The ground will sprout thorns and weeds,you’ll get your food the hard way, Planting and tilling and harvesting, 19 sweating in the fields from dawn to dusk,Until you return to that ground yourself, dead and buried;you started out as dirt, you’ll end up dirt.”
(from THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language © 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved.)

In the mystery of his relentless love, Abba offers hope. Evil will be vanquished. The serpent will be crushed. And the very curse that now inhabits Adam and Eve will become the means of drawing them back to him. And God covers these animal bodies: these darkened bodies that no longer shine with the light of a pure soul. He covers them with shed blood and offers life in their death.

Genesis 3:21-4:1

21 GOD made leather clothing for Adam and his wife and dressed them.

22 GOD said, “The Man has become like one of us, capable of knowing everything, ranging from good to evil. What if he now should reach out and take fruit from the Tree-of-Life and eat, and live forever? Never — this cannot happen!”

23 So GOD expelled them from the Garden of Eden and sent them to work the ground, the same dirt out of which they’d been made. 24 He threw them out of the garden and stationed angel-cherubim and a revolving sword of fire east of it, guarding the path to the Tree-of-Life.
(from THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language © 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved.)

Called Out Community

My friends Milton Stanley and Buzz Trexler have been discussing the nature of the church community, and how our evangelism is more than just hurling invectives at the “lost” outside the community of Christ. Good word brothers! Thanks!

Some writers like Ian Bradley have suggested, we are building outposts of heaven. Our churches gather in good times and bad. We gather in birth and death; in joy and sadness; and sometimes in fear and trembling. We gather to eat, to argue, to pray, to cry, to hope, to yearn, to love. We may do other things but one thing we are compelled to do is gather.

And in gathering we become, as Robert Bellah has reminded us, a “community of memory.” But not simply a sentimental common memory like the “good old days.” This memory is a real and living Presence. We gather in the living and present memory of our Lord. By His gentle and sometimes fiery grace, the rhythms of our lives harmonize in a symphony of love shining heaven’s light into this darkened world.

Augustine puts it differently. He says that we are a community of friends. This community is ever expanding transforming society into a world a friends who gather in the presence of the ever living Savior, Redeemer and Friend, the Lord Jesus Christ.

The inward outward movement of community is sometimes difficult to manage. We may become too inward losing sight of those outside the community, or we may become to outword focusing on the lost and dying world but losing sight of the called out community. This tension between building a loving community and reaching out beyond loving community is a dynamic tension that is always moving.

And as Chesterton points out that is one more beauty of our faith built on a cross of two planes: the horizontal and vertical. These intersecting planes remind us again and again of the wondrous paradoxical tensions of walking and living by faith.

Cain and Abel

Our church is currently telling the stories of the Old Testament. Today I wrote up a fictionalized account of Cain and Abel. While I tried to remain true to the spirit of the tale, I did fill places with my imagination. If anyone is interested, I thought I’d post something from it:

In the shadows, evil lurks. Watching. Simmering. Waiting for the right moment to pounce.

It started out as a day among days. A light autumn breeze stirred through the orchards and sweet apple scents surrounded the morning travelers. Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel were climbing the mountain for their annual feast of thanksgiving. The late harvest sun shined through the trees and the red seemed more red, the greens seemed more green: everything pulsated with life and possibility.

Atop the mountain they set up camp and each person prepared for their part in the feast. This year was to be special. It was the first year that Cain and Abel would approach Abba as young men. Before they had always watched Adam as he set up an altar of worship. They had listened as Adam retold the story of Creation and the wondrous stories of and from Abba. They grieved with Adam as he told of his own profound rebellion and failure, but rejoiced as he told of Abba’s loving-kindness. Then he would pause in the story and explain that every breath is but a gift from Abba. And though he had nothing of value to offer Abba, he would express his profound gratefulness for Abba’s love in gifts of worship. Cain and Abel would watch in amazement as Adam place the gifts on the altar and fire from heaven consumed them. It was as though Abba had kissed the earth in his love.

But this year Cain and Abel would approach the altar as young men. Instead of approaching through Adam, they would bring their own gifts of thanksgiving.

Cain worked the soil and this year his harvest was particularly grand. The orchards overflowed with apples and pears and peaches and cherries. The ground produced a stunning spread of tomatoes and corn and carrots and onions and more. This exceeding harvest pleased Cain. He had worked the fields day and night, and his efforts had paid off. He harvested more than enough food to meet his obligation for the great feast. Cain chose a sample fruits and vegetables to offer Abba and prepared to display his wares at the great feast.

Abel cared for the flocks. Like a father, he came to love each of the animals like his own children. Many a night, Abel would sit alone on the hilltop making up songs for his flocks. Abel was grateful to Abba for allowing him to care for the animals and when time came for the feast, Abel choose the finest, firstborn from his flock. Abel loved this sheep more than any man has loved his pet. And in some sense by offering this sheep, he could express how much more how loved and was thankful to Abba for his loving-kindness.

When time came for Cain and Abel to approach the altar, Cain led the way. He proudly displayed this fine bounty. “I am thankful that you have given me such ingenuity. For I have worked long and worked late and have produced a most glorious harvest of fruits and vegetables. The selection before you today is just a sample of the fine harvest I’ve produced in the orchards and fields below.” After his speech, Cain sat down and awaited Abel.

But Abel didn’t say much. Abel simply said, “I give the best but it is still not good enough. You are greater than all I can imagine and I am grateful for your love and kindness. Please have mercy and accept this precious lamb as a token of my unending love for you.”

Before Abel could even sit down, fire shot down from heaven and kissed the gift he brought. Abba delighted in such faith and readily expressed his pleasure.

But Cain was puzzled. His fruits and vegetables were more glorious than anything Abel brought but Abba almost seemed to snub him.

From the shadows, a cloud descended on him and he stumbled off the mountain in frustration and anger.

He had been humiliated in front of Abel and Adam and Eve. His fine selection of fruits and vegetables had been virtually ignored. Shamed and alone, dark thoughts began to torture Cain. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Abel was always the favored. Adam and Even had always praised everything Abel did while virtually ignoring his own efforts. Cain was a victim. He had been rejected all his life and this latest rejection was just a very public demonstration of what everyone thought. No one, not even Abba, realized his worth. No one, not even Abba, realized how hard he worked to benefit everyone else.

Deep into the night, Cain stared up into the dark sky and wondered if Abba was really that good after all. Maybe he had duped everyone. Cain was frustrated, confused and angry. In the middle of his torments, a voice. Abba comes to comfort and confront. “Cain, Cain. Why are you angry, and why has your face fallen? The shadow of darkness is waiting to take you. But it doesn’t have you. You can still do right and your joy will return.”

In his shame, Cain cried, “Oh God. Forgive me. You are right. I allowed the darkness to choke me, but when I arise tomorrow things will be different.”

But they weren’t different. When Cain awoke, the conversation with Abba had slipped into the stream of forgotten dreams. A cloud covered his heart and mind. And all he could think about was how he had been wronged.

Stumbling from bed, he went to face the day and instead found Abel. Anger simmered and yet hid. Abel said, “Come with me and let us return to the mountain.” For Abel was deeply concerned for Cain. Yet Cain interpreted this as Abel seeking to embarrass him yet once again. He followed quietly behind as Abel described the events of the previous day.

Suddenly the darkness came out of the shadows. Cain leaped. Abel fell. And the blood cried out. In a terrified stupor, Cain realized what he had done and ran. He ran and ran and ran. He tried to run from himself. But could not escape the dark terror of his deed.

In the shadows the voice called, “Where is your brother Abel?”

“I’m not my brother’s keeper. How should I know?”

“Even now your brother’s blood is crying. Calling out from the ground. You’ve planted curses and you’ll reap curses. Your field of plenty will rot on the vine as blood cries out for vengeance. Wherever you go, the land will recognize and reject you. From now on you’ll wander the earth without a home, without a place.”

Even as the Lord God spoke, Cain was coming undone. “It’s too much. I cannot bear it. I cannot bear it. The angry world knows my name and will consume me.”
“No Cain. Anyone who kills you will be repaid 7 times.” And with that promise Abba marked him for protection and left him to wander the world alone.
Traveling east, Cain stumbled into the waiting darkness. He married. Had a family. Built a city. And his son had sons. And they had sons. And they had sons. From his people came nomads, musicians, and blacksmiths. They were a people marked in blood. One day, his great grandson Lamech, with blood on his hands, proclaimed to his wives:
I killed a man for wounding me, a young man who attacked me. If Cain is avenged seven times, for Lamech it’s seventy-seven!
And the seeds of destruction continued to fall on the ground.

Geneva Convention

As we reflect on the Incarnation, it is also helpful to see humans who lived lives that reveal a God’s unfailing love. Today I stumbled across an article on the man who started the Red Cross and wrote the first Geneva Convention. Herny Dunant was driven by an intense Christian vision and lived his life caring for the needy. This article is an inspiring read.

The Spirit of Christmas

Every year cartoons and movies retell the same story: the story of a child or an adult who has lost the wonder of Christmas, “the Christmas spirit.” Every year the tale of innocence and experience is retold through the lens of Santa Claus and a heart that needs only believe.

Christmas is the time when we hope, we wish, we dream it might all really be true. Of course, we know better. And yet deep within us there is a longing for that place called the North Pole. The sophisticated refuse to waste their thoughts or time with such pointless dreaming, ah but the child in all of us longs for the dream to come true.

In our Christmas stories, we express the truths our imagination knows to be true, even when our intellect says otherwise. I believe that our stories embody our deepest beliefs: the beliefs that are fundamental to our whole understanding of the world.

Some parents hoping to protect their children give them presents but refuse to give them the stories of Christmas. But maybe stories are more important than an endless supply of boxed toys that will soon be discarded. Long after the specific toys are forgotten, the stories will be remembered. The stories shape us: they shape the boundaries of our imagination; they shape our understanding of the world—both seen and unseen.

And what do our Christmas stories tell us? What we believe really matters. The magic of Christmas is veiled to the unbeliever. For them it is only commerce—buying and exchanging of presents. But for those who believe, we know the Christmas present reminds us that the greatest treasures cannot be purchased: they can only be received as gifts. The believer offers milk and cookies in gratitude.

After we sit in the glow of our twinkling Christmas trees inside, we might notice the glorious glow of our trees outside: and for that matter our grass and our bushes may look a little brighter. The world around is not as dull and dreary as we had come to believe, but is really an explosive symphony of light.

When we see the Santa strolling through the mall, we are reminded of goodness and kindness and unending benevolence just north of all we can see or hear. We are not alone. And who knows how often we entertain angels unaware?

In the swirl of Santas, and snowmen, and songs of sleigh rides, we discover something else—a lean to, a broke down barn, a rustic shelter. Inside this stable lies a baby that bears the hopes of all the ages.

Once again, the manger is an embarrassment to the sophisticated. How could the God of the ages come to earth as a poor child? Yet this tragically beautiful tale captures the imagination: a virgin with child, a cold winter night, no place in the inn, a miracle birth, shepherds and angels and wise men. And in the center of the story: the hope of hopes lying helpless on the hay.

This is the myth of myths, the story of all stories. The story of the God who comes to earth as man—not to betray the world, not to oppress or destroy but to love in weakness; to embrace the downtrodden; love the unlovely; heal the broken heart; preach freedom to the captives; to bear the weight of every pain, every fear, every sin; to overcome evil with goodness; and to overcome death with life forevermore.

We fear the story is too good to be true. Because ultimately we fear good stories cannot be true. We’ve seen too much pain, too much loss, too much needless suffering. We’ve lost our innocence to the dark reality of this cruel world. In the midst of this dark world, a light still shines.

Dare we believe? Dare we become childlike again? Dare we believe that our stories were pointing to something real? Dare we believe in someone who created us for a life beyond all we ever could hope or imagine?

This Christmas we might truly discover the Spirit of Christmas. Or rather, he might waken us to the wonder of a love that we have longed for all our lives.

“O come let us adore him, Christ the Lord.”

Anticipation

The countdown has begun. All across the Western world, children are counting the days. Santa will be here soon.

Okay, I realize Santa doesn’t seem too spiritual. In fact, some folks go so far as to say that teaching children about Santa is dangerous. When they find out there is no Santa, they might quit believing in God. Actually, when children cease to be children they will quit believing they need God. Jesus says, “Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matt 18:3).

Children have the capacity to appreciate the wonder and magic of myth. They may not understand why the snow falls in winter, but they delight in it as a gift from heaven. The whole world is touched with wonder. There are friendly trees and mean trees. Digging a hole in the back yard may take them to China. Fairies play in the backyard—just out of sight. Children see something adults have grown to old and blind to see. G.K. Chesterton says, “It may be that (God) has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father us younger than we.”

Children are still young in spirit. They realize this world is miraculous. The spiritual world in entwined with the physical. Their minds may not understand the subtleties of doctrines and theology but their hearts recognize the reality of spiritual light and spiritual darkness.

When it comes to Christmas, they understand something so close to the human heart that adults seem to overlook it. Christmas Eve is just as spectacular as Christmas Day. Christmas Eve is when the Mystery draws near. Paul Jones says:

“As a child I could understand this, for no Christmas Day could ever match the mystery of anticipation called Christmas Eve. All of the major Christian festivals are woven in and out of Vigils—the prior evening in which one awaits in foretaste. Especially significant are the mystery of Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, and the rapture of Easter Vigil, which begins and ends in the speckled darkness of early morning. It is in anticipation, at the outer edge of yearning, deeply in time, that Mystery births us.” (A Season in the Desert, 72).

We live so close to the Mystery of God that sometimes we overlook it. In seasons like Advent, we remind ourselves of the deep inner childlike, yearning we have to draw near to the Mystery of God. He is above and beyond all we can know; yet we long to draw near Him. We live in Anticipation.

Anticipation

“What was that?”
“Did you hear that?”
“I think, I think
He’s out there.”

Christmas eve. The magic is almost here.
My heart is throbbing, my
mind is racing.
Sleep?
How?

Tonight’s the night. Michelle says that she saw him last year.
“What was that?”

Looking down over the railing, I crane my neck to no avail.
A flickering of colors rains across the hall.

Trembling, I climb onto the top step. My body
aches to keep climbing down the stairs.

But my mind is terrified.
“What if I spoil the magic?”

Endless seconds
crawl before me. And then,

Michelle taps my shoulder and wakes me from a long winter’s sleep. It’s time!

Our world is different. Just hours ago, he was here!
Here in this very house!

adf – 12/19/01

Wish Lists

One of my favorite memories of Christmas festivities is the making of wish lists. Several department stores sent out a “wish list” toy catalog each year, but none surpassed the Sears catalog. I spent hours pouring over the pictures and descriptions. I bent the corner of pages with potential “wish list” items for future review. Then I would visualize playing with those particular toys. The toys in my dreams were more fun than anything I ever could receive for Christmas.

There is a profound lesson here. In the wish list, the child uses the imagination to cultivate a sense of longing. This longing may start with a specific toy or any specific thing or even a specific person or a specific place. But our imagination presents a perfect or ideal image of the thing we desire—and the actual reality can never meet our expectations. And we experience disappointment.

One year, I saw a little record player recorder that supposedly could cut records. In other words, I could make my own recordings. This delightful toy bordered on the miraculous, and I dreamed of creating my own albums much to the amazement of friends and family all around. This toy topped this list. It was too good to be true. And it probably was, but I’ll never know because I never got this gift.

One thing a child must learn early is that there is no direct correlation between the wish list and the gifts received on Christmas morning. Inevitably, as delight and wonder envelope children everywhere, disappointment still lurks in the background. Nothing can ever really live up to our expectations or imaginations. And though some adults this year, like every year, will scold their children for selfishness, they too suffer from disappointments in other adults, in relationships, in job situations, in family matters and more. Disappointment is a very real and important part of longing.

I believe our idealized longing, is ultimately reaching out for a city not made by hands: a place and time that truly is just out of reach. Some might say that this type of longing is really a longing for the womb: a place where we were connected, completely safe and satisfied. In fact, some suggest that our delight with the sound of rushing waters from oceans to rivers to creeks is because the earliest sounds we knew in the womb were in liquid.

I believe the longing is not necessarily a looking back but a yearning forward. It is the hope, the longing, the yearning for the possibility that one day the happily ever after really will come true. Our best fairy tales end in a place just beyond the reach of real life. Nobody really experiences happily ever after in the here and now. They can’t. No one and nothing can meet our expectations.

We cannot even meet our own expectations. We vow to follow a new diet or a new exercise plan. We vow to be kind, to be more loving, to live selflessly. But we fall and fail. We cannot live up to our own standards, and if think we do, I assure someone else can look into our life and point out how we fail to meet their standards. Everyone falls short. Thus disappointment is inevitable.

The Hebrew prophets experienced disappointments as well. They watched a people, a nation move from reliance on God to political maneuvering and intrigue: and in the process. becoming a captive people. But many of them continue to cultivate a longing for a time when this kingdom of God would be realized in fullness. They describe this kingdom in ways that are still hard for us to imagine. The world is in perfect harmony: natural enemies are at peace. Political foes embrace; weapons of destructions are transformed into tools for nurturing and healing—even the lion lays down with the lamb.

Their lasting and profound vision of world harmony continues to reverberate throughout our world. Though far from perfect, the United Nations was created with this vision in mind and a quote from Isaiah still adorns the front of the offices in New York. But our flawed attempts fall short of Isaiah’s full vision. He describes a world only God can restore.

And this is the hope of Jews and Christians alike. We strain forward to a world of absolute perfect harmony. While past histories shape us, we are actually energized by the future. We long for God’s kingdom fully realized. Every week, Christians every where will pray, “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done…” They are praying for nothing short of absolute and perfect harmony in the heavens and on the earth.

Instead of relegating these dreams to a Never Never Land of childhood fantasy, this Christmas we might began to dream of an Ever Ever Land. We might get out those wish lists and dream of a world perfected in love and grace. Where commerce is not based on who can take advantage of who, but all our exchanges are based on blessing and love.

While our earthly dreams are subject to fail and disappoint, the prophets revealed that we could never out dream the kingdom. Inevitably it will exceed all hopes and expectations. It is better than anything we could have ever hoped. This dream of God’s perfectly realized love drives us forward and gives us energy to live out of that kingdom now. Thus Jesus says that the world would know his disciples by their love one for another.

As we live with a vision and a longing of the kingdom, we trust in God’s faithfulness to reveal this kingdom and relate on the basis of an abundance of His love. We don’t have to scrape and steal and oppress others to get ahead. For our confidence is not the shifting sands of the present moment but in a coming kingdom that cannot fail. Thus we are free to love and lay down our lives for those around us. In fact, we are free to be seen as fools for the sake Christ. Fools because we have abandoned the way of a world that suggests that if I don’t look out for myself, others will take advantage of me. Fools because we choose to return love for hate, peace for war, kindness for anger and healing for hurting.

This Christmas may we begin to live out our wish lists and live what we pray: “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done…”

Christmas is Coming

About this time, children of all ages have begun to feel an anguish burning in the pit of their stomach. Each night more Christmas trees light up family rooms. Each day mantles and hearths blossom with Pine garland, Poinsettias and empty stockings. In the midst of these transformations, children begin discovering the anguished longing of winter butterflies awaiting Santa. I remember them well and in some strange way I still feel them.

When I was a boy, it was about this time that I would begin checking the paper every day, which posted a small box counting down the days until Christmas. Every day I counted and recounted the days. Every night I turned and twisted in bed impatiently hoping for Christmas.

If we pay attention, our childish festivities might open our eyes to the mystery and wonder of our world. As our homes and hearts prepare for the coming of Christmas, we unconsciously acknowledge that Christmas comes to us.

While we know it’s coming, it still comes as a shock. It comes suddenly, like the birth of a child in the middle of the night. It comes like a twister turning our world around and upside down. It comes like a dream too good to be true. No matter how it comes, it comes.

Now it would be an odd Christmas, if upon awaking we went to the neighbor’s house and searched their stockings for surprises from Santa. It would be odder still if we flew to London and entered the house at 48 Doughty Street, searching under their tree for our Christmas gifts.

We don’t go to Christmas, it comes to us. Our particular home and our particular hearth becomes the threshold to all the mystery and magic of Christmas. We don’t have to search for it across the street or the globe for that matter. The magic comes to us.

Beneath the magic of Santa and songs and presents and play, Christmas holds a far greater mystery: the mystery of the God become man; the mystery of the child who holds the worlds in his hands. the mystery of the crying babe who comes to comfort the pains of this aching world.

Christmas hosts an absurdly wonder-filled mystery: the mystery that in the baby Jesus, God appears as a particular person at a particular place in particular time. In this wondrous act, he forever reminds us of the value of each particular place and each particular time.

It may be that we wait for the coming of Christmas because we are really waiting for the coming the Son: who will come and make all things new. It may be that as we decorate our mantles and hang stockings by our hearths we are highlighting the wonder infused in the place where we live.

Instead of longing to find that magic place beyond our world: whether across the street, across the globe or across the cosmos, we might come to discover the treasure of the place where we live. Our home and our hearth still glow with glory. Our job and our relationships, our bodies and our minds are not simply accidents or happenstances but gifts from the Creator.

Every breath is a gift from the Creator of all things. And in every breath He comes to us with mercy and grace. And with every breath we have the power to lift unceasing thanks for this wonder-filled life.

As we await for the coming Christmas, may we behold him who came, who comes today, and who will come again.

Romanian Reflections

A Romanian friend, Oana, just introduced a new blog Wannabat. Hopefully she’ll be posting some pix from her native land soon.

John the Baptist

His life was devoted to one purpose—prepare the way for the coming Messiah. John the Baptist had lived an ascetic life of absolute devotion to God. His burning passion was to see the Anointed One. In one sense, his life brought into focus the intense waiting of all ages for the Coming One: The new David that Isaiah proclaimed would usher in the kingdom of God and restore the world to an Edenic state of innocence.

When Jesus final appears, John the Baptist humbly yields the stage to Him acknowledging Jesus as the “Lamb of God who comes to take away the sins of the world.” John takes his leave with a warning announcing that Jesus would “burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”

In the lonely dungeon, John the Baptist hears reports that the one he proclaimed as Messiah, goes to the parties, does not fast, and surrounds himself with questionable people. He sends words to Jesus, “Are You the Coming One, or do we look for another?”

Jesus may have loved John the Baptist more than anyone on the earth. He saw John as one of the greatest prophets to ever live. And yet, even John could not see the fullness of the kingdom. Jesus alludes to Isaiah and other testimonies from the Old Testament to describes His call, “The blind see and the lame walk; the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear; the dead are raised up and the poor have the gospel preached to them” (Mtt 11:5; Is 35:5-6).

The kingdom of God has come but in a way, that not even John the Baptist had anticipated. And Jesus says, “(B)lessed is he who is not offended because of Me” (Mtt 11:6). The Messiah comes to the weary, to the waiting, to those lost and struggling in the darkness. The Messiah comes with the kingdom of God bringing joy to the sad, comfort to the mourners, hope to the hopeless, and humiliation to the proud.

The Messiah will come again. Though He tarries, we wait. We anticipate His coming by walking in the reality of His kingdom now. But we also grow weary, and sometimes even doubtful. One of the greatest trials we face in this life is the challenge of time, of waiting. We must wait upon the Lord. Our redemption is near and yet not quite near enough.

Like the children of the Exodus, we are crossing a desert. We are heading home to the presence of the Lord. Yet, the desert saps our energy, our strength, and even our faith. As we wait, we need the grace of God to “strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees” (IS 35:3). Our fearful hearts need to hear, “Be strong, do not fear! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God; He will come and save you” (Is 35:4).

Like John the Baptist, there are times when we may question and wonder, “Are you the coming one or should we look for another?” But He is faithful.
The same power that can cause a desert to blossom (Is 35:1) is at work in our hearts. The grace of God can bring new life and new hope to our weary souls. As we long for home, as we look for the coming of the Son, we also rest in His grace. His can lead by a way we do not know into a place we have never imagined.

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