Settle in, remove the distractions, pause, just breathe and read this slowly…
…it’s almost here. The day that literally reset the course of human history is now quickly upon us. The moment when “Emmanuel” became more than prophecy and “God with Us” came into a small corner of the world in the presence of shepherds to breathe for the very first time.
I’m curious. At that moment, what was the world really expecting?
Today, in this moment, what is the world really expecting? Something that looks like this?
Obviously not…
I believe that so often we have this picture in our minds of a manger scene that was full of peace and silence where all the animal looked in (and didn’t smell), and for our convenience the manger had a couple of little side rooms for reflection and prayer.
Just for a moment consider what the world outside of this Norman Rockwellesque scene may have been like.
The streets must have been full (there was no room at the inn). Certainly people were preparing meals, transactions were being made, to-do lists needed to be checked off & people had places to be. Did anyone in that little town really even know or care about what was happening among them? I very much doubt that all was quiet and peaceful both within or just beyond the paneled walls of that barn.
However, for some reason, on that day and at that time God spoke softly in the fields during the still moments to those that were listening to the promise that He was coming.
…because, this is a God who speaks softly to all who listen to His promise of “God with Us.
The reward of “God with us” was given to those who were listening. It was given to those that could pause long enough to lift their eyes to the sky and search for the star pointing to a King. God was with them; this Messiah became present with them. He brought no armies, sat on no throne and didn’t use facebook to announce that He had arrived. He was present with us, and we only know this because of a small gathering of people who were listening.
…they were present, and this God brought His presence to give to them.
Time and time again, as this story of rescue and redemption unfolds, we find Jesus and his disciples reenacting this scene of being present & giving presence.
But, do we even know what it looks like in our world today?
…to be present.
…to be the “with Us” part of Emmanuel?
Our world places little value in being presence because we do not understand it. We must trick ourselves into thinking we are present by thinking it’s a stare, a momentary pause to pay attention or not checking my phone for five minutes. Certainly this Messiah King did not come so that I could learn how to put my phone down for a day.
…His presence and my presence must certainly be about something greater.
We have just a few days remaining in this season of waiting, preparation and arrival, so what will we do with these next few moments before they are gone forever? What will we give that moth and rust will not destroy? What will we give that will not be forgotten?
…the gifts and measures of this world that mark our days and years are simply insufficient.
In one short story found in the third chapter of the book of Acts, Peter & John encounter a man begging for money. Peter says to the beggar “silver & gold I do not have, but what I have I give to you freely.”
In that moment, at the temple gate called Beautiful, they gave him Christ, and Christ, by His very name, is presence.
…Peter & John gave him everything.
Once I heard Rick McKinley ask this question…“What would our family, church and community look like if we said ’silver & gold I do not have?’
As we celebrate Advent, I can chose to follow this story and give the greatest possession that I have ever been entrusted with to those that I love the most. It is really the only thing that I came into this world with, and it is the only thing that once lost can never be regained.
…Presence is something that God gave to me, and He entrusted that I would give it away to others.
In our crazy, busy, excessively connected & to-do list filled world, may we be a people that seek out a place to lift our eyes and search for a God who is speaking softly that He is coming. And, like the Magi, once we find that star, may we travel over the difficult & treacherous roads that allow us to be fully present.
Today, there is still so much to learn from these shepherds…
…they were present and waiting for their King.
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We ended the night feeling blessed. We had been worried about the outcome of this conversation, of the process, having the right words, but everything had been there. We felt lighter, peaceful — right. Like truth had won that night.
It hadn’t been a huge revival, or an amazing service at church, it happened with just our little family, in just our little family room. We had a teachable moment, with two little boys ages 7 and 5, that lasted almost 30 minutes. It had been on our hearts to tell them that Saint Nicholas was a living man long ago, who did blessed, charitable things, but that it’s the symbol of him that lives on today. A heavy topic for little children, indeed.
The way we told them was to start with why we celebrate Christmas in the first place. Because of the gift of Jesus, who was sent here specifically to die, we celebrate His birth. Which meant we had to explain why He had to die, which meant we had to explain sin, which meant we had to explain how man came to sin in the first place. Which meant we eventually found ourselves at The Beginning, talking about creation and — can you see what a big undertaking this turned into?
I tell this story not to imply that all parents should do this — we felt led and convicted to have this conversation, because we had been having “Santa” leaving presents for the kids the last few years (a tradition I grew up with and simply continued, having never really thought about if it was a good idea or not), and the specific questions about Santa and his “magic” and all that he does — and is — had begun to make my husband and I uncomfortable. We avoided direct answers to our children’s questions, not wanting to lie, and it was clear it was time to have The Talk.
But we also felt as though we wanted to make sure they knew there was real “magic”, the Holy Spirit, and that amazing things, things that seem magical, really do happen. That there is Truth in Jesus and His promises and His history. We didn’t want them to someday say, “well Santa isn’t real, is Jesus really real?” We were given the prompting for this conversation, and then given that teachable moment, and it went amazingly well. The words flowed from our mouths in just the right way that our boys understood. We praised God so much that night, for yet another huge milestone in the faith journey of our family in shaping our beliefs and practices.
***
Ever since being urged to re-evaluate our Christmas traditions and make a Change, we’ve been so blessed, and yet so attacked. It feels like that Lion Who Prowls took extra notice of us once we became one less unconscious holiday shopper. Unending sicknesses sabotaging all the beautiful new traditions we had hoped to begin, unexpected financial stress creating strife among us, regression in my special needs kids tempting us to doubt, even a mysterious flat tire the morning after we had that amazing talk with our boys (making us miss church). And that’s just in the last three weeks.
Sometimes we keep thinking that it’s all a coincidence, or that it’s an extra special run of “bad luck”, but is it really? Remember it is said:
“For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ”
- 2 Corinthians 10:3-5
And…
“Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. 12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. 13 Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm.”
- Ephesians 6:11-13
There is a battle going on, for our souls and hearts and minds. When we put on the Armor and take on the shield of faith, the belt of truth and the sword of the spirit, nothing can truly harm us. Mess up our schedules and our bodies (and often times much worse), yes, in this fallen world, but never harm our souls.
We can expect to be attacked, because God says we will. We see it as a sign we’re doing something right. Being on fire instead of lukewarm. Being a beacon of light that glows in spite of the darkness, instead of a dull ember, fading and unused, no life having been breathed into it in far too long.
As you finish out this last week before Christmas, there’s not only still time to make change, but still time to be attacked. Have no fear, and be bold! Resist the Evil One, and remember that your brothers and sisters around the world are going through the same thing. Christ came to die, be risen, wash clean, confirm, restore and establish YOU. Nothing and no one, in this world or the supernatural world, can take that away.
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Eventually, we stopped buying gifts for the foster kids. Sometime around Thanksgiving the ads would pop up on the radio, the Giving Trees would show up in the grocery stores, and church groups would hold their annual toy drives. By Christmas Eve, my parents would have received a few industrial-sized garbage sacks full of brightly wrapped gifts to put under the waiting tree, all marked with paper tags such as: Girl, 2 yrs, doll; or Boy, mittens, small. We always held back a few things for the children’s birthdays or other special occasions, but still, the generosity of a kind community filled our Christmas celebration with an embarrassment of riches.
That day, after a late breakfast , mom would bag up the mountain of paper and bows and dad would make bottles and change diapers and they’d send over-stimulated little ones off to naps. Over the next weeks and months my parents would see those same children through countless bottles, boxes of diapers, doctor’s appointments, therapy appointments, visits with family, adoption proceedings and sometimes, a return to their birth homes. Every day for over 20 years, my parents gave their presence to a succession of small, wounded children who had nowhere else to go.
Christmas is the time of year we rehearse the Incarnation, a word that literally means “in flesh.” A word that tells us God didn’t deny Himself a couple of mochas and drop a festively wrapped doll in the toy drive barrel. Rather, the God of Heaven stripped down, slid from Mary’s womb into the dank, cold air of earth, and found a home in the waiting arms of a tired, scared man and woman; consenting to partake of the everyday substance of the people He loves.
The Incarnation relentlessly forces us to make room in our lives for Christ. Jesus is not just an idea, He is a living, breathing Person who takes up real space. When He enters the world lives are interrupted and rearranged: first Mary, then Joseph, then the disciples, then Israel, then the world. As Christ indwells us, we learn to practice living the Incarnation with others. We must make space, move around our priorities, open doors, shuffle time and even disrupt the most intimate structures of our lives in order to become the in flesh representation of Christ on earth.
This season, every trip to the grocery store, every turn of the radio dial, every Salvation Army bell ringer reminds us that there are good people in the world willing to give something, to make the world a bit brighter for others. But the Incarnation demands that we ask ourselves if we are as willing as Mary and Joseph to disrupt our whole lives and welcome the work of Christ. How many of us are willing to live the day to day Incarnation as people like my parents have done? That ceaseless, grinding reality that comes after the gift is unwrapped and the toys are put away?
During Christmas, while the images of Jesus’ presence and mission are on full display, we can make this more than just another celebration or a once-a-year giving fest. We can allow it to become a yearly reorienting, a chance to assess whether or not we have truly lived the Incarnation in our own space and time as Christ modeled for us in His coming and His living.
Some ideas for incarnational living:
Become a foster parent.
Commit to working with the homeless.
]]>Have you ever had the feeling that you were seeing the same thing around every corner? Whether it is going to Seattle and seeing a Starbucks every two blocks or driving cross country on the interstate and seeing signs for McDonalds at every other exit. It seems that life occasionally has its seasons of repetitive speaking. Sometimes it whispers and then it starts to yell. Recently it has been a season of shouting for me.
When it came time for the Creator to personally engage in the redemption of people, he did so in an obviously perfect yet seemingly dangerous way. Jesus was to be born as a man and die like a man. What has been so striking to me is the PLACE that all of this took place. God’s agent of redemption was to be given a family, a mother and father. Out of this cohesive covenant would come the Christ. The family would be the vehicle through which the Savior would be carried. Jesus would consummate what was begun in the Garden with the first family’s privilege of filling the earth with the knowledge of the the glory of the Lord.
What I’ve found so thought provoking is that God would not only trust but entrust the Messiah to a young woman and her husband. It adds to my growing belief that it is inside of the family that the seed of redemption has been planted by God. It is his design within the created order that husbands and wives, Mommies and Daddies, men and women accept the task to act as agents of redemption. This begins first in the home itself and then is grows and spreads as every good healthy garden does.
So, back to the shouting that has been taking place in my life. I can’t pinpoint the week that it started happening, but I do know that its been going on for some time now. So many of our friends have been discussing and deciding that adoption is one of the greatest privileges and displays of redemption. As you read this, some of our good friends are in route to get their son, Simeon, from Ethiopia. A few days ago, some other friends passed the court process to adopt their little girl Sosi from Ethiopia as well. (Who knows, maybe they’ll get married).
I was certainly cut to the heart watching the Michael Oher story in the movie The Blind Side. The Tuohy family was a great portrayal of the redemptive power of family. I had been praying a fairly specific prayer lately that God is seeming to begin to answer. I’ve been asking God to bring someone into our family that we can love and share our life with, someone with whom we would normally not interact. Through a very humorous, but obviously ordained scenario, my wife has met and befriended a young girl from her Bible study group has been through it all. We are hoping and praying to be a part of her restoration process.
I often eat lunch with my daughter in Kindergarten on Fridays. I’ve met most of the kids in her class, and not all have been raised in a family of redemption. While it is heartbreaking, I leave every time knowing exactly how my wife and I are to view our home together. It begins in the willing hearts of the parents (like Mary and Joseph) to accept the change.
Next in line is the daily life-giving attitude and assignment that we have to raise our children to fear the Lord and worship Him alone. Along the way, then, the family is called to be an agent of redemption and restoration to others outside the home. From welcoming in a hurting friend from school, to befriending an international student from the local university, to serving a single mom while she makes her way through life on her own, to going to the ends of the earth and adopting a child, we are all to act.
THE HOME is the place that God has entrusted the responsibility of redemption by being couriers of the grace that is given in Jesus Christ.
Greg Harris defines a household as “people and possessions managed for a purpose.” May we all knowingly act in the truth that our purpose is redemption by pointing others to the Great Redeemer of our Souls, Jesus Christ.
written by Finley Robinson
]]>When he came screaming into the rough hewn manger from the womb of an unmarried woman, when he was delivered by the calloused hands of a carpenter amidst a family of goats, the angels found the unassuming and sang the message,
“glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people on Earth.”
Messiah had come, and so, the shepherds, watching o’er their fields at night, left the sheep to fend for themselves. They wanted to see this good news incarnate, the majesty of which the angels sang. Their deliverer, the King of kings, had surely come.
The Wisemen traveled stable-ward, also. Keen readers of the stars as they were. They stopped and asked directions from a paranoid King with a psychotic twitch,
“where is this Messiah, for we have seen his star?”
And the king, the first of the anti-Christs, spun a yarn of Bethlehemic prophecies and his intent to worship the newly born despot. They left his estate, in awe that a king would seek to worship another, and hurried on to Bethlehem. There were, after all, presents to deliver to a good little boy who was
God with them.
And when they arrived, led by the Spirit to that splintery hospital-hotel, were they surprised to find Messiah in a manger? Were they astounded to find his mother, the first of the holy grails, relegated to a bed of straw? Did they expect something different, something more grand?
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It is how we celebrate the scandalous story, and to be honest, I love it. There is joy in the gift giving, and sometimes I think there is a reason for that. After all, it was God-sized gift giving that started this whole season. And some of us may find ourselves in Best Buy in the coming days, asking for the “Daddy, daddy, I love it,” gift.
And maybe we do this because we, like the shepherds, are looking for something more grand.
But when we are in those isles, can we agree to think back to rough-hewn manger? Can we remind ourselves of the foreordained family that found themselves bearing God into a world of disadvantage? Will we remember His coming into a generation of genocidal treachery, and how he was given only a feed bin in which to sleep? And then, can we ask
“Lord, how can we bring a gift to your manger?”
And as we silently and inwardly kneel among glittering passable joys, can we remember the answer that Jesus has already spoken?
“I’m telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.” (Matthew 25:37-40, The Message).
]]>I’m six or so, big enough for childlike faith and small enough to still believe in the wonder of Christmas. My brother and I giggle as we dress up for our yearly tradition. I am Mary and he is Joseph.
We put on bathrobes that belong to our parents–so long they drag the carpet behind us. We cover our heads with bath towels. The color doesn’t match and terry cloth didn’t exist in Bethlehem but we don’t know or notice.
I swoop up a doll in my arms—an impromptu baby Jesus. We walk into the living room where parents and grandparents expectantly wait. My dad holds a Bible open to the second chapter of Luke.
So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.
He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.
She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
Luke 2:4-7 NIV
A holy hush falls over the room. A candle flickers. My brother and I act out the story as my father reads on, unfolding eternity word by word. Eternity that came to sleep in a manger and die on a cross.
In those moments, our home becomes holy. Bathrobes, towels, clothe us in the divine. Christmas truly comes and nothing is the same.
It isn’t make-believe—it’s transformation.
I’m grown now and no longer dress up to read the Christmas story. But the lesson I learned from those days stays with me. Christ has the power to change. And always, especially at Christmas, things are not as they appear in the Kingdom.
This is truest of all when we give.
The cost of two cups of coffee becomes a Village of Hope for women in Africa through the Mocha Club.
A gift to Rapha House becomes a divine key that sets girls free from sex slavery.
A sponsorship of a child through Compassion International becomes a pathway to a better future.
Water into wine, a few loaves and fish into a feast, a tiny baby in a manger Savior of this great big world. Jesus has always been a multiplier, transformer, changer, who takes what little we have to offer and makes it more than enough.
This happens not when we are perfect, not when we have much to give, but when we—who are all grown up now—open our hearts once again to childlike faith and the wonder of Christmas.
When we do, the One who came for us then comes to us again. And miraculously, through us, makes His way to the hearts of others who need Him too.
This is still, always, the miracle of Christmas.
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It’s amazing how simply writing out where you are in the process of change can be helpful – to say this is where I am and then also to say, this is where I want to be and this is how I plan to get there, with God’s help. The comments in the last post are encouraging, especially to those of us just now starting the journey of Christmas Change.
We want to encourage you to think beyond Christmas morning in our warm homes. Think beyond our giving options within our own families. Think about what we represent.
I want to share a small portion of one of my all time favorite poems, Telling the Gospel Truth, from Tender Hooks, by Beth Ann Fennelly.
I’d been looking for Mary
like that,
her robes spread
her knees by her ears,
her veins rivering
the cracked and leaking
bowl of her belly that can hold no more,
and the baby crowning, skulling
through that fringe—but reaching the statue’s front I found
just another passive pietá.
Let us tell the truth about what’s really going on – what was going on then, when Spirit-God put on people skin, and what is going on now, now that people become tents for Spirit-God .
On Christmas Day, God came to us through a laboring woman. He came, and people are still looking for Him, wanting Him to follow through.
Christmas Change is an identity shift. Being able to accept smaller material gifts so that we can give larger is understanding how truly great a gift we’ve already been given.
I believe that we can entrust Christmas to Him all over again. I believe He’ll follow through.
What can we entrust to Him this year?
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