Today has been an ungracious sort of day.
I was late for a volunteer recruitment meeting. I struggled, aggravated, through my Hebrew studies as a bewildered mama tried unsuccessfully to control her screaming toddler. I very aggressively slammed a shopping cart into the corral in frustration that the grocery store customer before me felt too hurried to put it back. I had a little temper tantrum in the car as my commute to a friend's house was doubled in the crazy holiday traffic. I ranted to my family on the phone about some unwelcome news I received this week. Despite a lovely brunch with friends this afternoon, I headed home annoyed that there was more work to be done for church tomorrow.
Chalk it up to the shortest day of the year and the winter blues, but I did not feel Christmasy. And I certainly didn't feel full of grace.
The past year has been like that. I have wanted to be brave and beautiful in the midst of little challenges and more looming adversity. But I haven't handled each trial with the sort of poise I would have hoped. Instead it has all felt pretty clumsy.
I hate these sorts of days because gracious is what I want most of all to be. That and gutsy. But the grace usually feels harder to come by than the guts.
I was feeling frustrated with myself when I read the loveliest words in the Gordon-Conwell Advent Devotional, day 20, written by early Christian history professor Dr. Donald Fairbairn:
When the angel Gabriel greets Mary, he uses an expression that has proven difficult to translate. The Latin Vulgate renders it with the equivalent of, "O one who is full of grace." The King James renders it, "Thou that art highly favored." And the ESV has, "O favored one." The Greek expression is a single word, a passive form of the verb for "to grace." Perhaps the most precise way to render it in English would be "O you who have received grace." Gabriel is not talking about Mary as a source of grace, but as a recipient of grace.
The Vulgate's translation feels darn near impossible to live up to, and I bet Mary would agree. Maybe her temperament was a bit less fiery than mine, but I'll bet she had some ungracious days, too. {{She was human, after all.}} But Mary had received grace--literally, had been graced--in the most precious, Incarnate way.
Dr. Fairbairn continues:
As for what this grace consists of, the next phrase holds the key: "the Lord is with you." At heart, grace is not God's giving us just any kind of favor; it is his giving us his very presence.
God with us--grace for my unloveliest, pitch-a-fit sort of days. Unmerited favor in the here-with-us presence of God. The Word become flesh for us, giving us access to the Father, making us sons and daughters.
I am not always {read: hardly ever} full of grace. But tonight I am most thankful for the grace received through the Incarnation, God's strength in my weakness.
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
How Christmas Myth Prepares Us for Advent Truth
We're already more than a week into Advent and I've barely begun the daily Scriptures, much less posted them for friends to download. {they're included at the bottom of this post!} I have to confess that I'm a little sad my Christmas decorations are all neatly packed away in storage. I think their absence this year has made me feel less Christmasy, so I've finally decided that I must get at least a tabletop tree to adorn "the Shire" (my room at the Dorsch Casa, affectionately named because it has a short, hobbit-hole door that opens into a large, high-ceilinged space with lots of glorious light--it reminds us all of a hobbit hole!).
Tonight I'm shamelessly re-blogging a post I wrote for my Church since the Reformation class in response to a forum question about whether or not Christians should observe the secular traditions associated with Christmas. I hope it inspires you to read not only the Advent Scriptures this month, but also some fancy that will help you to believe in the seemingly too-wonderful story of God in the manger.
Tonight I'm shamelessly re-blogging a post I wrote for my Church since the Reformation class in response to a forum question about whether or not Christians should observe the secular traditions associated with Christmas. I hope it inspires you to read not only the Advent Scriptures this month, but also some fancy that will help you to believe in the seemingly too-wonderful story of God in the manger.
My family has always celebrated Christmas with a lot of intensity and sparkle. In an almost Narnian way, the fanciful traditions of Santa Claus were mingled with the nativity, which I understood from an early age to be the true meaning of Christmas. While I have heard many of my gospel-minded friends express concern about confusing their kids with notions of the jolly old elf sliding down their chimney, these two aspects of my family's Christmases never seemed to me to conflict.
I remember one special Christmas Eve when Santa Claus made a visit to my grandparents' living room. I was about five and desperately enthralled with the magic of it all, although my older cousins recognized the man in the red suit as a man from their church. Being the youngest, I anxiously awaited my turn as Santa addressed the cousins one by one, giving us each a gift and whispering a secret in our ears. Finally, Santa presented me with my gift, and then, pulling me close whispered, "You know that Jesus is the real reason for Christmas." In a strange way, it was one if the holiest moments of my life, when I sensed that all I had heard about Jesus was true. Thus began an even deeper faith in Santa {{he was a Christian! Somehow I had sensed it all along!}} and in the Jesus we both shared. Believing in Santa helped me to believe in Jesus. And when I stopped believing in Santa, I kept right on believing in his God.
I recently read a Wall Street Journal article from 2008 in which a Christian father explains why he encourages his kids to believe in Santa. He writes: "This sheds light on a seeming paradox in St. Paul's letter to Roman Christians: "For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made. . . ." How does one see "invisible attributes"? Only people raised on fairy tales can make sense of that. It belongs in a terrain where magic glasses can illumine what was heretofore hidden, where rabbit holes open into wonderlands."
I dearly love this idea that myth prepares our hearts for Truth, and never sense it so profoundly as at Christmastime.
I dearly love this idea that myth prepares our hearts for Truth, and never sense it so profoundly as at Christmastime.
I must say that I am disturbed by moralistic interpretations of Santa Claus, such as the Elf on the Shelf tradition (although the lighted-hearted Facebook pictures of his mischievous escapades are hilarious) that conflict with a gospel of grace. But that was not the Santa I knew growing up--thanks, I suppose, to the fact that my parents didn't rely on his pending visit as a way to make me behave. I agree with others who have commented that we need to resist the secularization of Christmas, including the accompanying, all-too-prevalent materialism. However I think there is a way to hold the mystery of the Incarnation in tension with the fairy tails--and traditions--that help us to believe it.
As Sally Lloyd-Jones retells the meeting of Mary and the angel Gabriel in her beloved Jesus Storybook Bible, "So Mary trusted God more than what her eyes could see. And she believed."
Sunday, December 9, 2012
{{the Word became flesh}}
Already a week into Advent, and I am just now posting this year's daily Scriptures. {I put up my tree late this year, too--such is the life of a busy student/career girl!} Anyway, the readings are embedded below if you want to follow along!
We've been doing a study on Advent for our Sunday morning youth small groups at Walnut Hill, and this morning we talked about the Incarnation and what it means for us that "the Word became flesh..." (John 1:14).
As I was developing the material the past couple of weeks, there were several practical applications that struck me: 1.) Jesus is fully God, so he deserves our worship, 2.) Jesus inhabited a body, so God cares what we do with our bodies, 3.) Jesus "moved into the neighborhood," (as Eugene Peterson has paraphrased John 1:14 in the Message), so it matters how we inhabit the places we live. Wow--it was a lot to cover in one morning!
But before we launched the small groups, I shared with students for a few minutes about why Jesus had to come at all. I tried to connect for them the two dimensions of God's Word--written (the Bible) and living/Incarnate (Jesus!). God's written Word is manifest in the Person of Jesus Christ who comes to fulfill the Law and Prophets (Matthew 5:17) and to accomplish what the law could not do (Romans 8:3).
Fittingly, one of tonight's Advent Scriptures is Psalm 115. Last year, I blogged about a song called "One Winter's Night," that has truly become my favorite-of-all-time Christmas carol. There is a line in the bridge that confused me a bit when I first discovered the tune:
Advent Readings 2012
We've been doing a study on Advent for our Sunday morning youth small groups at Walnut Hill, and this morning we talked about the Incarnation and what it means for us that "the Word became flesh..." (John 1:14).
As I was developing the material the past couple of weeks, there were several practical applications that struck me: 1.) Jesus is fully God, so he deserves our worship, 2.) Jesus inhabited a body, so God cares what we do with our bodies, 3.) Jesus "moved into the neighborhood," (as Eugene Peterson has paraphrased John 1:14 in the Message), so it matters how we inhabit the places we live. Wow--it was a lot to cover in one morning!
But before we launched the small groups, I shared with students for a few minutes about why Jesus had to come at all. I tried to connect for them the two dimensions of God's Word--written (the Bible) and living/Incarnate (Jesus!). God's written Word is manifest in the Person of Jesus Christ who comes to fulfill the Law and Prophets (Matthew 5:17) and to accomplish what the law could not do (Romans 8:3).
Fittingly, one of tonight's Advent Scriptures is Psalm 115. Last year, I blogged about a song called "One Winter's Night," that has truly become my favorite-of-all-time Christmas carol. There is a line in the bridge that confused me a bit when I first discovered the tune:
the gods we trusted and became
will find no solace here
The gods we trusted and became? This was an odd concept to me. But that same week, I read Psalm 115 and it all made sense:
But their idols are silver and gold,
made by the hands of men.
They have mouths but cannot speak,
eyes, but they cannot see...
Those who make them will be like them,
and so will all who trust in them.
(vv. 4-5, 8)
The point is, we become what we worship. Since last Christmas, I've noticed that this theme of becoming like our idols is repeated often in Scripture, especially in the Psalms and in Isaiah. And in my Old Testament class at Gordon-Conwell this fall, Dr. Carol Kaminski has lectured on this concept a good deal.
At the
first of our three class meetings of the semester, Dr. Kaminski said,
"We have to learn to listen to the voice of God in our lives, otherwise
we treat Him like some dumb idol."
For this YHWH God has always been a speaking God. His Word went forth as He created the heavens and the earth (Genesis 1-2). And when gave Moses the Law at Mount Sinai. And through the prophets when the people were so steeped in idolatry that they would not listen and repent.
And finally, when He could stand it no longer, God spoke through the Word Incarnate, Jesus, "the image of the invisible God" (Colossians 1:15).
{The Word became flesh!}
May you hear Him speak this Christmas.
Now that is God shouting. You can't mistake it. Christ is God,
and you see every attribute of God manifest in him. His judgment, his
justice, his love, his wisdom, his power, his omniscience. It's all
there in person as we see Him walk through the world, working his work,
living his life. The fullness of God may be seen as it was never seen
before in Jesus Christ.
John MacArthur
Advent Readings 2012
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Increase
It's been a particularly tough day, one when I've felt sort of forgotten.
Not that my tiny little troubles hold a candle to the disgrace he bore.
Still, it's beautiful in some small way to find that my story is his story, that on these days of feeling small, I can look to his example. That in Christmas, he provides a resource for me to lay aside entitlement and say with him "I don't matter."
May we become nothing this Christmas!
{Thank goodness for friends and wine and Christmas movies and cheer!}
After
all the jolliness of an impromptu Christmas celebration at my house, I
am sitting here with the Advent readings and a cup of tea. The Psalmist
is reminding me that "the LORD loves righteousness and justice," and that His plans "stand firm forever" (Psalm
33:5, 11). Such sweet truth as I sometimes question what, really, is going
on in the world, in my life.
Perhaps even more fitting after the day I've just had is Alistair Begg's sermon excerpt in Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus. I've
already read it once today, but it is hitting me in fuller measure
tonight. Reflecting on some of my favorite verses from Philippians
2--according to scholars and theologians the world over, some of the
richest theology ever written--he writes about the incarnation and what
it tells us about the nature of God the Giver:
In other words, instead of holding onto his own uninterrupted glory, he chose to set it aside...
Jesus did not approach the incarnation asking, "what's in it for me, what do I get out of it?"
In coming to earth, he said, "I don't matter."
Jesus, you're going to be laid in a manger.
"It doesn't matter."
Jesus, you will have nowhere to lay your head.
"It doesn't matter."
Jesus, you will be an outcast and a stranger.
"It doesn't matter."
Jesus, they will nail you to a cross, and your followers will all desert you.
And Jesus said, "That's okay."
This is what it means, he "made himself nothing, taking on the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men."
I'm
reminded for the hundredth time that those of us who want to be
identified with him will experience these same feelings of being
deserted, made an outcast, misunderstood.
Not that my tiny little troubles hold a candle to the disgrace he bore.
Still, it's beautiful in some small way to find that my story is his story, that on these days of feeling small, I can look to his example. That in Christmas, he provides a resource for me to lay aside entitlement and say with him "I don't matter."
May we become nothing this Christmas!
He must become greater, I must become less.
-John the Baptist (John 3:30)
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
we will cast our stones at him
The gospel Scripture for tonight's Advent reading is John 8:1-11, Church tradition disputes whether the story was part of the original manuscript, but it made its way into the Cannon--and it sure sounds like something my Jesus would do.
The people are gathered around Jesus as he is teaching in the temple courts, when in march the pious religious leaders with a woman caught in adultery. Looking for a way to accuse Jesus, they demand an answer: "Do we stone her as Moses said? Do we give this woman the justice she deserves?"
Quietly, Jesus begins to write in the sand. Scripture doesn't tell us what he is writing, but we can imagine what he is thinking: that he will be accused--for us. That his body will be broken instead of hers, instead of mine. That he will die even for the self-righteous ones, those religious folk who care more about looking good than loving God. We will cast our stones at him.
Jesus dares them to stone her--but only if they are without sin themselves. With this challenge, he shuts up the hypocrites.
He knows he is the only one worthy to cast a stone; he is the only one without sin. And he will not do it. He will not condemn her.
Tonight, at our area high school WHY Groups, students discussed the temptation of Jesus in Luke 4. For one student in particular, the discussion raised some heady questions about the nature of sin. "How much is too much to sin? And why does it matter anyway if they're just little sins? If Jesus was tempted too, does he really blame us for giving into temptation sometimes?" (Man, I just love the ones who ask questions!)
This passage from John can raise some similar concerns for us. "Why does Jesus let her off so easy? And how does he really know she will leave her life of sin as he directs her?" the legalist in each of us might venture to ask.
The point, my friends, is grace. Because of the Incarnation and the Cross, you and I have been "let off" too.
He has silenced our accusers.
He has taken the beating we deserved.
He has wiped the slate clean.
And grace never leaves us where we are, but calls us instead to leave our old lives behind.
The people are gathered around Jesus as he is teaching in the temple courts, when in march the pious religious leaders with a woman caught in adultery. Looking for a way to accuse Jesus, they demand an answer: "Do we stone her as Moses said? Do we give this woman the justice she deserves?"
Quietly, Jesus begins to write in the sand. Scripture doesn't tell us what he is writing, but we can imagine what he is thinking: that he will be accused--for us. That his body will be broken instead of hers, instead of mine. That he will die even for the self-righteous ones, those religious folk who care more about looking good than loving God. We will cast our stones at him.
Jesus dares them to stone her--but only if they are without sin themselves. With this challenge, he shuts up the hypocrites.
He knows he is the only one worthy to cast a stone; he is the only one without sin. And he will not do it. He will not condemn her.
Tonight, at our area high school WHY Groups, students discussed the temptation of Jesus in Luke 4. For one student in particular, the discussion raised some heady questions about the nature of sin. "How much is too much to sin? And why does it matter anyway if they're just little sins? If Jesus was tempted too, does he really blame us for giving into temptation sometimes?" (Man, I just love the ones who ask questions!)
This passage from John can raise some similar concerns for us. "Why does Jesus let her off so easy? And how does he really know she will leave her life of sin as he directs her?" the legalist in each of us might venture to ask.
The point, my friends, is grace. Because of the Incarnation and the Cross, you and I have been "let off" too.
He has silenced our accusers.
He has taken the beating we deserved.
He has wiped the slate clean.
And grace never leaves us where we are, but calls us instead to leave our old lives behind.
But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the punishment that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the punishment that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way;
we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.
the iniquity of us all.
He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
yet he opened not his mouth;
yet he opened not his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
so he opened not his mouth.
and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
so he opened not his mouth.
Isaiah 53:4-7
Sunday, December 4, 2011
let there be light
Today I discovered my new favorite Christmas song of. all. time. Buy the song on iTunes and/or check out these lyrics by Ross Byrd of High Street Hymns
(in Charlottesville!):
Those words have ruined me for cheesy Christmas music. Beautiful. I listened to this song on repeat yesterday--no less than 25 times--and then found myself in tears throughout the day
when the single woman on a TV drama underwent in vitro while a sick little boy lay in a hospital bed without parents
You, LORD, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.
One Winter's Night
If only that which is assumed could ever be redeemed
Then come to us within a womb; be born and wash out feet
And not our feet alone we pray but everything we know
That thou O Love would come and stay and all our sorrows go
Yet thou will not be welcomed here, still Love please come and be
Our refuge, wipe away our tears though we will murder thee
But darkness only turns to day if You become the night
And we on You our darkness lay that it be swallowed in light
The gods we trusted and became will find no solace here
Beside his creatures low and lame the Son of God appears
A thousand years of "progress" past, a million hearts beguiled
Now Love alone will reign and last within one little child
O Love, make a way, come find us
Search the darkness, light the way, come and guide us Home
Oh the sunrise burns the night away
Find us, find us
Blessed One, born today, come and find us
Search the darkness, light the way, come and guide us Home
One winter's night begins eternal summer morn
If only You are born
Those words have ruined me for cheesy Christmas music. Beautiful. I listened to this song on repeat yesterday--no less than 25 times--and then found myself in tears throughout the day
when the single woman on a TV drama underwent in vitro while a sick little boy lay in a hospital bed without parents
when a friend told me about a marriage that is failing
when I read about women who are still enslaved in brothels
And it just struck me again and again how much we need this LIGHT that has come!
to dispel our darkness...
Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, "I am the light of the world.
Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of
life.”
John 8:12
to come and find us..
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
Psalm 139:11-12
to put His light in us...
“I will keep you and will make you
to be a covenant for the people
and a light for the Gentiles,
7 to open eyes that are blind,
to free captives from prison
and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness."
to be a covenant for the people
and a light for the Gentiles,
7 to open eyes that are blind,
to free captives from prison
and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness."
Isaiah 42:6-7
You are the light of the world.
Matthew 5:18
The power of the Incarnation is that in Jesus, the Kingdom of Light breaks in and dispels the darkness of broken humanity.
As Simon Tugwell has put it, "He has followed us into our own darkness."
In Jesus, we have hope that things will not always be as they are, that as C.S. Lewis so masterfully wrote, it will not be "always winter and never Christmas." That all things will be set right when this Heavenly King returns, once and for all. That all of our longing is stirring up anticipation for Him. That the light of the Son continues to shine in us, His Church, even as we wait.
"One winter's night begins eternal summer morn, if only You are born"--what a thought!
You, LORD, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.
Psalm 18:28
Saturday, November 19, 2011
What Advent Means
In my family, a greater-than-average love for Christmas is mandatory. Cue my baby sister, who once said, pertaining to a boy she was seeing and why she liked him, "well, he really loves Christmas!" It's true--we Kingston (Russell) women are nuts about the holiday.
My preparations for Advent have been frenzied. But I am determined that Advent itself, the discipline of preparing oneself for Jesus to come, should be just the opposite.
My mom reminded me this weekend while I was home for Thanksgiving that as a little girl, I badgered her for months about the coming of Christmas, counting down the days many months in advance. Once December rolled around, I couldn't sleep at night for the excitement! That is just the spirit that Advent recaptures each year for me. I may not be that enthusiastic seven-year-old anymore, but sitting in my cozy Connecticut apartment with the tree lit and my Bible open, I feel as though she and I have been reacquainted. Only now it's not Malibu Barbie or American Girl Dolls that get me excited. It's that this Jesus whom I love has come...and He will come again!
Tonight, on the first night of Advent, the Scriptures speak of Jesus' second coming as much as his first. 2 Peter 3:1-10 reminds us that He is "not slow in keeping His promises," but He is waiting for just the right time to return for His bride. And in Matthew 25, we're reminded to be prepared for that any-day-now arrival. This is the hope of Advent: That Jesus would come through a birth canal (as Alistair Begg has pointed out in an essay "Wrapped in Humility"), and what's more that He promises to return for us, fully, finally, once and for all.
For those of us who love Jesus, this hope also means that we will live differently. I'm increasingly challenged by that thought recently, especially as it pertains to my materialism. {Ouch...this being vulnerable stuff is painful at times.}
I was really excited to see that my favorite non-profit/parachurch ministry/human rights organization is to be the recipient of this year's Advent Conspiracy campaign. Advent Conspiracy is an organization that challenges Christians to remember what Christmas really means by giving more and spending less. Check out the video and support the work of IJM here!
If you want to follow along with the Scripture reading plan I use each year (it's adjusted from the Book of Common Prayer), you can find it below.
Much love to you this Advent!
chelsea
Advent Readings 2011
My preparations for Advent have been frenzied. But I am determined that Advent itself, the discipline of preparing oneself for Jesus to come, should be just the opposite.
My mom reminded me this weekend while I was home for Thanksgiving that as a little girl, I badgered her for months about the coming of Christmas, counting down the days many months in advance. Once December rolled around, I couldn't sleep at night for the excitement! That is just the spirit that Advent recaptures each year for me. I may not be that enthusiastic seven-year-old anymore, but sitting in my cozy Connecticut apartment with the tree lit and my Bible open, I feel as though she and I have been reacquainted. Only now it's not Malibu Barbie or American Girl Dolls that get me excited. It's that this Jesus whom I love has come...and He will come again!
 |
| Christmas on Greenwood Ave. |
For those of us who love Jesus, this hope also means that we will live differently. I'm increasingly challenged by that thought recently, especially as it pertains to my materialism. {Ouch...this being vulnerable stuff is painful at times.}
I was really excited to see that my favorite non-profit/parachurch ministry/human rights organization is to be the recipient of this year's Advent Conspiracy campaign. Advent Conspiracy is an organization that challenges Christians to remember what Christmas really means by giving more and spending less. Check out the video and support the work of IJM here!
If you want to follow along with the Scripture reading plan I use each year (it's adjusted from the Book of Common Prayer), you can find it below.
Much love to you this Advent!
chelsea
It will be said on that Day "Behold, this is our God; we have waited for Him."
Isaiah 25:9
Advent Readings 2011
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Advent Fulfillment
Santa Claus was always a big part of our Christmas celebrations. My faith in him was secured the year he came to my Grandma and Grandpa Russell's house on Christmas Eve to give each of us granddaughters an early gift. My three older cousins suspected that this man in the red suit was a friend of theirs from Penn Avenue Baptist, but at five, I was enamored. The best part was when Santa leaned in close to whisper in my ear. When he told me that Jesus was the reason for celebrating Christmas, I was ecstatic. Santa Claus is a Christian! That sealed the deal. I was hooked.I have always felt that my encounter with the "real" Santa Claus that day was significant spiritually. I hear a lot of talk in Christian circles about how harmful it is to "lie" to children about Santa...or how including him in our Christmas celebrations is pagan and detracts from the true meaning of the holiday. But somehow, I never felt lied to. And when I finally put aside my affections for the man in the red suit, an even stronger faith in Jesus remained.
My mom and I were talking about this on Christmas Eve--in the kitchen, where we have so many of our heart-to-hearts--and she said that she had been thinking recently about how much the anticipation of Santa Claus parallels our waiting for Jesus. The more I thought about it, the more I thought that was just really beautiful.
And it's true--those nights when I would make myself sick thinking about Christmas morning, those Christmas Eves crammed in a double bed with my three cousins when none of us could sleep for the excitement, they really were just a foretaste of what's to come.
It's been a long time since I slept cross-ways in a bed with my cousins on Christmas Eve, but Taylor and I have carried on the tradition. Every year, she camps out in my bedroom and we read Jolly Old Santa Claus, just like our mom and her sister did when they were little girls, and just like my cousins and I used to. It's a fanciful tour of Santa's workshop that makes you feel just a little homesick for days when Santa was real and you could count on his coming. The illustrations are stunning. This year, Taylor has been going through the Advent readings, too--so we read them together after the Santa book. The parallels were incredible:
For tonight is the night...at long last it is here...it is the night before Christmas! You must be very quite now and hop into bed quickly, for Santa Claus is ready to leave. The stars are twinkling in the blue sky above...and all the world is hushed and still, waiting for this magical night. For tonight...yes, tonight is the night he comes! And such excitement there will be when he comes!Jolly Old Santa Claus, by Maryjane H. Tonn
Say to those with fearful hearts, "Be strong, do not fear; your God will come...He will come to save you."Isaiah 35:4
Say to those with fearful hearts, "Be strong, do not fear; your God will come...He will come to save you."Isaiah 35:4
"Shout and be glad, Daughter of Zion. For I am coming, and I will live among you," declares the LORD.
Zechariah 2:10
The Spirit and the Bride say, "Come!" And let him who hears say, "Come!"
He who testifies to these things says, "Yes, I am coming soon." Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.Revelation 22:17, 20
Zechariah 2:10
The Spirit and the Bride say, "Come!" And let him who hears say, "Come!"
He who testifies to these things says, "Yes, I am coming soon." Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.Revelation 22:17, 20
Maybe it sounds sacrilegious to write about Jesus and Santa in the same post. But I really believe that Santa was a vessel God used to teach me about expectant waiting. He pointed me to the God who has come and who will come again for us. May we always cultivate longing for Him.
Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.
Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Advent Communion
Tonight is a little sad because it is my last night in my apartment before I head to Illinois for Christmas. I know, I know...it seems odd to bemoan going home to my parents' house for a week. And actually, I'm really excited about the time in Bloomington. It's just that I love Advent here on Greenwood Avenue so much! And once I head home, it'll be over for another year.
I've been thinking about Advent and how we cannot divorce it from Easter, mostly because we had been preparing for a Communion service for the last Sunday of Advent. As usual, Lauren Winner's words (from Girl Meets God) are gold:
“The waiting is meant to be a little anxious. I picture Jane Austen heroines. They are never quite sure if their intended will come. We Christians can be sure; we can rest easy in the promises of Scripture. But we are meant to feel a touch of that anxious, handkerchief-waving expectation all the same.
“The calendar tells us that all this culminates on December 25, but really the whole season slouches toward Easter…Even His birthplace takes us to the Last Supper: Jesus, the Bread of Life, is born in Bethlehem, bet lechem, “house of bread,” and at the Last Supper, He will break bread for us, and then on the Cross He will break His body. Nothing in Scripture, even the names of birthplace towns, is coincidence.”
Oh gosh, I just love that so much! Bethlehem, "house of bread." Rabbinical reading like that reminds us that God is the inventor of narrative and literary style.
Even His birthplace takes us to the Last Supper. And so it seems fitting that we would take Communion at Christmastime, which is what we did at the 6:30 service this past Sunday. At the Lord's Table, we remember that Jesus was flesh and blood for us and that He shall come again. We remember that we are family, united by that blood, which pulsed through His tiny body in the manger and poured out of Him on the Cross. We remember that Christmas is not about presents and feasting and jollity, but about a King who came to die in order that His Kingdom might be ushered in.
As I've thought on these things, the Christmas hymns that mention the Cross have become so precious to me. Not many of them do, when you really stop to listen. But I've been loving "What Child is This" the past couple of days (particularly Sarah Story's rendition--you can get it for free from Noisetrade.com), as well as one that's new to me from Red Mountain Church--it's called "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silent." It's particularly poignant in thinking about the Lord's Supper.
This Christmas, may you rejoice in the One who came and died a real, fleshly death for you.
I've been thinking about Advent and how we cannot divorce it from Easter, mostly because we had been preparing for a Communion service for the last Sunday of Advent. As usual, Lauren Winner's words (from Girl Meets God) are gold:
“The waiting is meant to be a little anxious. I picture Jane Austen heroines. They are never quite sure if their intended will come. We Christians can be sure; we can rest easy in the promises of Scripture. But we are meant to feel a touch of that anxious, handkerchief-waving expectation all the same.
“The calendar tells us that all this culminates on December 25, but really the whole season slouches toward Easter…Even His birthplace takes us to the Last Supper: Jesus, the Bread of Life, is born in Bethlehem, bet lechem, “house of bread,” and at the Last Supper, He will break bread for us, and then on the Cross He will break His body. Nothing in Scripture, even the names of birthplace towns, is coincidence.”
Oh gosh, I just love that so much! Bethlehem, "house of bread." Rabbinical reading like that reminds us that God is the inventor of narrative and literary style.
Even His birthplace takes us to the Last Supper. And so it seems fitting that we would take Communion at Christmastime, which is what we did at the 6:30 service this past Sunday. At the Lord's Table, we remember that Jesus was flesh and blood for us and that He shall come again. We remember that we are family, united by that blood, which pulsed through His tiny body in the manger and poured out of Him on the Cross. We remember that Christmas is not about presents and feasting and jollity, but about a King who came to die in order that His Kingdom might be ushered in.
As I've thought on these things, the Christmas hymns that mention the Cross have become so precious to me. Not many of them do, when you really stop to listen. But I've been loving "What Child is This" the past couple of days (particularly Sarah Story's rendition--you can get it for free from Noisetrade.com), as well as one that's new to me from Red Mountain Church--it's called "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silent." It's particularly poignant in thinking about the Lord's Supper.
King of kings, yet born of Mary,
As of old on earth He stood,
Lord of lords, in human vesture,
In the body and the blood;
He will give to all the faithful
His own self for heavenly food.
As of old on earth He stood,
Lord of lords, in human vesture,
In the body and the blood;
He will give to all the faithful
His own self for heavenly food.
This Christmas, may you rejoice in the One who came and died a real, fleshly death for you.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Advent Love
It's the third Sunday of Advent, and so tonight at Walnut Hill's 6:30 service, we lit the third Advent candle. I am slightly confused, as I thought that the third Sunday was supposed to be about joy--but no matter. Tonight we lit the candle representing love, and Clay preached on "Loving Fully."
The Advent candle for love reminds us that God's love isn't stingy--it holds nothing back. So, too, should our love overflow in generosity.
I was particularly challenged by Clay's exposition of Philippians 2:3-8. He asked us to think about what each of us tries to grasp. I know for me, those things at which I grasp become such idols in my life, competing with my love for Christ and others. Grasping keeps me from loving fully.
But what does it mean to imitate that selfless, un-grasping love modeled for us in Christ? In an essay in Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus, J.I. Packer indicts Christians (and I am so guilty of this!) who misunderstand the point that Love has come:
"We talk glibly of the 'Christmas spirit,' rarely meaning more by this than sentimental jollity on a family basis...It ought to mean the reproducing in human lives of the temper of him who for our sakes became poor at the first Christmas."
He continues: "Nor is it the spirit of those Christians--alas, they are many--whose ambition in life seems limited to building a nice middle-class Christian home, and making nice middle-class Christian friends, and bringing up their children in nice middle-class Christian ways, and who leave the sub-middle-class sections of the community, Christian and non-Christian, to get on by themselves. The Christmas spirit does not shine out in the Christian snob."
Am I the only one totally convicted by that? So much of the time I'm more concerned with decorating my house and buying presents for family and making sure I have the right holiday ensemble to wear to all of the Christmas parties than I am with giving generously to those in need. I am a Christian snob, for sure.
Thankfully, as tonight's Advent Scriptures remind us, we find in the Incarnation a remedy for our snobbery and our grasping. King David writes, "Praise the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits--who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion" (Psalm 103:2-4).
Praying that the crown of love and compassion might come to be the mark my life!
The Advent candle for love reminds us that God's love isn't stingy--it holds nothing back. So, too, should our love overflow in generosity.
I was particularly challenged by Clay's exposition of Philippians 2:3-8. He asked us to think about what each of us tries to grasp. I know for me, those things at which I grasp become such idols in my life, competing with my love for Christ and others. Grasping keeps me from loving fully.
But what does it mean to imitate that selfless, un-grasping love modeled for us in Christ? In an essay in Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus, J.I. Packer indicts Christians (and I am so guilty of this!) who misunderstand the point that Love has come:
"We talk glibly of the 'Christmas spirit,' rarely meaning more by this than sentimental jollity on a family basis...It ought to mean the reproducing in human lives of the temper of him who for our sakes became poor at the first Christmas."
He continues: "Nor is it the spirit of those Christians--alas, they are many--whose ambition in life seems limited to building a nice middle-class Christian home, and making nice middle-class Christian friends, and bringing up their children in nice middle-class Christian ways, and who leave the sub-middle-class sections of the community, Christian and non-Christian, to get on by themselves. The Christmas spirit does not shine out in the Christian snob."
Am I the only one totally convicted by that? So much of the time I'm more concerned with decorating my house and buying presents for family and making sure I have the right holiday ensemble to wear to all of the Christmas parties than I am with giving generously to those in need. I am a Christian snob, for sure.
Thankfully, as tonight's Advent Scriptures remind us, we find in the Incarnation a remedy for our snobbery and our grasping. King David writes, "Praise the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits--who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion" (Psalm 103:2-4).
Praying that the crown of love and compassion might come to be the mark my life!
For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.
2 Corinthians 8:9
2 Corinthians 8:9
Friday, December 10, 2010
Advent Treasure
Isn't it amazing what riches are stored up for us in the character of God and in Scripture?
I'm marveling tonight, once again, at the miracle of the Incarnation and what it means for us.
Tonight it was Augustine who opened up the storehouse to me. In an adaptation for Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus (do I quote this book enough?!), he wonders at the the "Word made flesh" (John 1:14), quoting 1 Peter 1:24-25: "all people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures forever."
Interpreting that text, he writes, "What is 'the Word became flesh?' The gold became grass. It became grass for to be burned; the grass was burned, but the gold remained."
It's an incredible allegory, isn't it? And straight from Scripture, no less. I love the picture of our Jesus, who "was with God in the beginning" (John 1:1), who was and is God, humbling Himself to be flesh, making Himself grass for us. Or as Paul puts it in Philippians 2:7, he "made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant." The Greek word is ekenosen, which means "he emptied himself" (or poured himself out). And yet we know, and Augustine reminds us, he could not cease being God. The grass was burned, but the gold remained.
May we never forget to marvel at this holy wonder, the gold made grass, the Word made flesh. Everything else hinges upon it, and every promise through it is fulfilled.
I'm marveling tonight, once again, at the miracle of the Incarnation and what it means for us.
Tonight it was Augustine who opened up the storehouse to me. In an adaptation for Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus (do I quote this book enough?!), he wonders at the the "Word made flesh" (John 1:14), quoting 1 Peter 1:24-25: "all people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures forever."
Interpreting that text, he writes, "What is 'the Word became flesh?' The gold became grass. It became grass for to be burned; the grass was burned, but the gold remained."
It's an incredible allegory, isn't it? And straight from Scripture, no less. I love the picture of our Jesus, who "was with God in the beginning" (John 1:1), who was and is God, humbling Himself to be flesh, making Himself grass for us. Or as Paul puts it in Philippians 2:7, he "made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant." The Greek word is ekenosen, which means "he emptied himself" (or poured himself out). And yet we know, and Augustine reminds us, he could not cease being God. The grass was burned, but the gold remained.
May we never forget to marvel at this holy wonder, the gold made grass, the Word made flesh. Everything else hinges upon it, and every promise through it is fulfilled.
For no matter how many promises God has spoken, they are "Yes" in Christ. And so through Him the "Amen" is spoken by us to the glory of God.
2 Corinthians 1:20
2 Corinthians 1:20
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Advent Resource
I've talked to lots of families at Walnut Hill who are interested in doing something together that will restore some of the meaning to Christmas this year. Our prayer ministry has published an amazing resource for Advent called Nativity: Praying to be like the characters of Christmas. Since I helped one of my coworkers publish it to the WHCC website today via my Scribd account, I thought I'd share it here as well. It's really a beautiful set of prayer prompts with accompanying graphics. I hope you'll be blessed as you pray through it!
Nativity Prayer Directive
Nativity Prayer Directive
Friday, December 3, 2010
Advent Strength
I hung a little sign in my kitchen for the holidays that says "Comfort and Joy." I love that phrase because it's cute and it seems sort of kitchen-y (you know, like comfort food). But as I was washing dishes the other day, I realized that there's a lot more weight to those words than the cute, jolly meaning we attach to them when we slap them on a little wooden sign.
In Hebrew, the word for comfort, nacham, is translated "strength." Comfort is more than just some feel-good emotion, more substantial than a bowl of mac and cheese or twice-baked potatoes. Comfort is strength from the Lord.
Dr. Eakin was the first to define the word for me in these terms. He did so in our Hebrew Prophets class, when we talked about Isaiah 40: "'Comfort, comfort, my people,' says your God...He gives strength to the weary" (vv. 1, 29). That was years ago, my junior year at Richmond. But this Christmas, the idea of "comfort (strength) and joy" has special significance.
It's been a hard year for our family. With Grandma Russell's passing in October and Grandpa Russell's chaotic bout of kidney cancer and his passing in August, there have been so many tears and so much grief. When I was home for Thanksgiving, I was struck by how different things feel, and that's tough, especially around the holidays. My mom, in particular, is just now fully able to grieve. As I thought about all of that, I did a little word search (how I love thee, biblegateway.com!) for "comfort and joy."
In Jeremiah 31:13, the Lord declares, "I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow." What a promise! I'm claiming it for my family this Christmas.
The beautiful thing about Isaiah 40 and Jeremiah 31 is that both point undeniably to the coming of Jesus. He, God incarnate, is the ultimate source of strength. In Isaiah 40, the prophet declares the word of the Lord: "Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and proclaim to her...that her sin has been paid for" (v.2). Then he proclaims the words that John the Baptist will fulfill, "A voice of one calling: 'In the desert prepare the way for the LORD'" (v.3). And Jeremiah 31 is one of the most significant passages in Hebrew Scripture, in which God promises to make a new covenant, to write the Law on his people's hearts (vv. 31-33). Obviously, this is a promise that can only be fulfilled by Jesus, the Word (Heb. "Law"--See my October 2008 post on Simchat Torah for more on how modern Messianic Jews understand this connection.) In the Incarnation, we find a resource to help us face every hardship.
As we sat by my Christmas tree over wine and good conversation Thursday night, some friends encouraged me to let the tears come this Christmas, to sit in the grief for a while, to put aside any expectations of how Christmas is supposed to be--all happy and jolly and light. This verse lends the encouragement needed for that different kind of Christmas, a Christmas where I may cry and be sad. I don't have to manufacture joy or strength--God has promised them to me, in His timing. In Jesus, He will turn my mourning into gladness.
In Hebrew, the word for comfort, nacham, is translated "strength." Comfort is more than just some feel-good emotion, more substantial than a bowl of mac and cheese or twice-baked potatoes. Comfort is strength from the Lord.
Dr. Eakin was the first to define the word for me in these terms. He did so in our Hebrew Prophets class, when we talked about Isaiah 40: "'Comfort, comfort, my people,' says your God...He gives strength to the weary" (vv. 1, 29). That was years ago, my junior year at Richmond. But this Christmas, the idea of "comfort (strength) and joy" has special significance.
It's been a hard year for our family. With Grandma Russell's passing in October and Grandpa Russell's chaotic bout of kidney cancer and his passing in August, there have been so many tears and so much grief. When I was home for Thanksgiving, I was struck by how different things feel, and that's tough, especially around the holidays. My mom, in particular, is just now fully able to grieve. As I thought about all of that, I did a little word search (how I love thee, biblegateway.com!) for "comfort and joy."
In Jeremiah 31:13, the Lord declares, "I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow." What a promise! I'm claiming it for my family this Christmas.
The beautiful thing about Isaiah 40 and Jeremiah 31 is that both point undeniably to the coming of Jesus. He, God incarnate, is the ultimate source of strength. In Isaiah 40, the prophet declares the word of the Lord: "Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and proclaim to her...that her sin has been paid for" (v.2). Then he proclaims the words that John the Baptist will fulfill, "A voice of one calling: 'In the desert prepare the way for the LORD'" (v.3). And Jeremiah 31 is one of the most significant passages in Hebrew Scripture, in which God promises to make a new covenant, to write the Law on his people's hearts (vv. 31-33). Obviously, this is a promise that can only be fulfilled by Jesus, the Word (Heb. "Law"--See my October 2008 post on Simchat Torah for more on how modern Messianic Jews understand this connection.) In the Incarnation, we find a resource to help us face every hardship.
As we sat by my Christmas tree over wine and good conversation Thursday night, some friends encouraged me to let the tears come this Christmas, to sit in the grief for a while, to put aside any expectations of how Christmas is supposed to be--all happy and jolly and light. This verse lends the encouragement needed for that different kind of Christmas, a Christmas where I may cry and be sad. I don't have to manufacture joy or strength--God has promised them to me, in His timing. In Jesus, He will turn my mourning into gladness.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Advent Card
Swirling Ornaments Christmas Card
Make a statement with Shutterfly Christmas photo cards.
View the entire collection of cards.
I couldn't resist sending Christmas cards to a few faraway friends who I don't often get to see! If I see you all the time, I'm still praying that "the God of hope will fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him" (Romans 15:13).
Joy and peace to you!
chelsea
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Advent Anticipation
Here in New England, I often tell people there there are only two things I love about winter: Christmas and patterned tights. I should include Advent as well.
After several mishaps with my Stew Leonard's Christmas tree--and a rather chaotic evening trying to put it up and get ready to go out with friends all at once--my house is finally decorated. This Advent season will be even more chaotic than most, between all the WHCC craziness plus two weddings, one of them in Indianapolis. So, I need to make the most of the time I have to enjoy cozy evenings by my tree.
One of the things I've loved most about "nesting" and making my own home here in Connecticut is forming my own traditions and little daily rhythms, which are the most pronounced at Advent. I know it sounds unlike me to crave solitude, but I so SO look forward to coming home on chilly December nights, grabbing my Bible and an Advent book, and curling up on my couch next to the tree. Amidst the madness of full-time ministry at Christmastime, that place of rest and reflection is the sweetest blessing. For me, that's the real Christmas--drawing near to Christ and taking time to quietly anticipate His coming again.
If you'd like to do this year's Advent readings along with me, you can find them via my Scribd account below. I'm digging into the riches of Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus again this year, too--such a wonderful read! If anyone has any other suggested Advent readings, please let me know!
With joy because our King has come--and will come again!
Chelsea
Advent Readings 2010
After several mishaps with my Stew Leonard's Christmas tree--and a rather chaotic evening trying to put it up and get ready to go out with friends all at once--my house is finally decorated. This Advent season will be even more chaotic than most, between all the WHCC craziness plus two weddings, one of them in Indianapolis. So, I need to make the most of the time I have to enjoy cozy evenings by my tree.
One of the things I've loved most about "nesting" and making my own home here in Connecticut is forming my own traditions and little daily rhythms, which are the most pronounced at Advent. I know it sounds unlike me to crave solitude, but I so SO look forward to coming home on chilly December nights, grabbing my Bible and an Advent book, and curling up on my couch next to the tree. Amidst the madness of full-time ministry at Christmastime, that place of rest and reflection is the sweetest blessing. For me, that's the real Christmas--drawing near to Christ and taking time to quietly anticipate His coming again.
If you'd like to do this year's Advent readings along with me, you can find them via my Scribd account below. I'm digging into the riches of Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus again this year, too--such a wonderful read! If anyone has any other suggested Advent readings, please let me know!
With joy because our King has come--and will come again!
Chelsea
Advent Readings 2010
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Advent Recap
I flew back to Connecticut today, and I came home to a dead Christmas tree.
So, Christmas really is over. But as I put away my decorations and drug my dead tree outside, I listened to Christmas music.
I discovered this weekend that all this time, all through Advent, I've had an Andrew Peterson Christmas album, "Behold the Lamb of God," on my iTunes. Not only that, but I learned of Indelible Grace's Christmas album titled "Your King Has Come." I just couldn't end the season without giving both a good listen.
So before you pack up your decorations and drag your Christmas tree to the curb, check out these albums online, or maybe buy them for next year. You can listen to "Your King Has Come" for free on Matthew Smith's website. Matthew Perryman Jones' rendition of O, Holy Night is what I was looking for all month--what an incredible song! And there's a song on Andrew Peterson's album that you just have to hear. Check it out, via Lala, below:
Joy and peace to you in the New Year!
Chelsea
So, Christmas really is over. But as I put away my decorations and drug my dead tree outside, I listened to Christmas music.
I discovered this weekend that all this time, all through Advent, I've had an Andrew Peterson Christmas album, "Behold the Lamb of God," on my iTunes. Not only that, but I learned of Indelible Grace's Christmas album titled "Your King Has Come." I just couldn't end the season without giving both a good listen.
So before you pack up your decorations and drag your Christmas tree to the curb, check out these albums online, or maybe buy them for next year. You can listen to "Your King Has Come" for free on Matthew Smith's website. Matthew Perryman Jones' rendition of O, Holy Night is what I was looking for all month--what an incredible song! And there's a song on Andrew Peterson's album that you just have to hear. Check it out, via Lala, below:
Joy and peace to you in the New Year!
Chelsea
Friday, December 25, 2009
Advent Thoughts
It's Christmas Day, and I'll admit, I'm a little sad. I have always loved the anticipation of things--birthdays, vacations, holidays, parties--almost as much as the thing itself. And so it is with Christmas. As a little girl, I would lie awake in bed for weeks before Christmas, imaging the fun times with family and the many gifts under the tree. I would count down from at least a hundred days to the day, driving my mom crazy. And then Christmas would come. It would be glorious, of course, everything I imagined it to be and more. But then it would be over so quickly and I would feel sort of empty. I loved that anxious feeling, the beforehand waiting, the most. I guess that's why I love Advent.
And now it's over. Taylor and I packed up our presents and brought them upstairs. In a couple of days I'll pack up my suitcase and go home. When I get back to Bethel, I'll pack up my Christmas decorations and put them away. And this sweetness, this waiting for Jesus to come, it seems I'll have to pack it up as well.
But the beauty of Advent is that it not only celebrates Christ's coming to us in a manger, but anticipates His coming to us in undeniable glory. That anticipation, that waiting, does not have to be packed up with the Christmas ornaments. And when the Day finally arrives, it will not pale in comparison to my anxious waiting for it, as Christmas sometimes does.
What I have loved this Advent is learning to relate to God as the One Who Comes. It wasn't just in that Bethlehem stall that God revealed Himself as Immanuel--no!--He has been Immanuel for all of eternity past. He is the God who is present with His people.
In fact, it's the pillar of cloud, again, that reminds us of God's ever-present-ness with the Israelites. It was the cloud by day and the fire by night, the Shekinah, Hebrew for "dwelling," that reminded God's people of His care for them and directed them where they should go (Numbers 9). God came to Moses in the burning bush. He spoke to Abraham. He walked with Adam and Eve in the Garden. He said to Joshua, "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." God with us. Not just beginning with Jesus, but from the beginning of creation.
In Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus, John MacArthur writes, "You see, God only whispers in His creation. He revealed a shadow of His glory in the Shekinah. But He speaks with absolute clarity in His Word. 'God...spoke' (Hebrews 1:1), and not in a whisper, but in full voice. Still, there was an incompleteness in it all until, '[God] has in these last days spoken to us by His Son" (Hebrews 1:2).
"Now that is God shouting. You can't mistake it. Christ is God, and you see every attribute of God manifest in him. His judgment, his justice, his love, his wisdom, his power, his omniscience. It's all there in person as we see Him walk through the world, working his work, living his life. The fullness of God may be seen as it was never seen before in Jesus Christ."
"Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come,
he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
he will come to save you" (Psalm 35:4).
And now it's over. Taylor and I packed up our presents and brought them upstairs. In a couple of days I'll pack up my suitcase and go home. When I get back to Bethel, I'll pack up my Christmas decorations and put them away. And this sweetness, this waiting for Jesus to come, it seems I'll have to pack it up as well.
But the beauty of Advent is that it not only celebrates Christ's coming to us in a manger, but anticipates His coming to us in undeniable glory. That anticipation, that waiting, does not have to be packed up with the Christmas ornaments. And when the Day finally arrives, it will not pale in comparison to my anxious waiting for it, as Christmas sometimes does.
What I have loved this Advent is learning to relate to God as the One Who Comes. It wasn't just in that Bethlehem stall that God revealed Himself as Immanuel--no!--He has been Immanuel for all of eternity past. He is the God who is present with His people.
In fact, it's the pillar of cloud, again, that reminds us of God's ever-present-ness with the Israelites. It was the cloud by day and the fire by night, the Shekinah, Hebrew for "dwelling," that reminded God's people of His care for them and directed them where they should go (Numbers 9). God came to Moses in the burning bush. He spoke to Abraham. He walked with Adam and Eve in the Garden. He said to Joshua, "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." God with us. Not just beginning with Jesus, but from the beginning of creation.
In Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus, John MacArthur writes, "You see, God only whispers in His creation. He revealed a shadow of His glory in the Shekinah. But He speaks with absolute clarity in His Word. 'God...spoke' (Hebrews 1:1), and not in a whisper, but in full voice. Still, there was an incompleteness in it all until, '[God] has in these last days spoken to us by His Son" (Hebrews 1:2).
"Now that is God shouting. You can't mistake it. Christ is God, and you see every attribute of God manifest in him. His judgment, his justice, his love, his wisdom, his power, his omniscience. It's all there in person as we see Him walk through the world, working his work, living his life. The fullness of God may be seen as it was never seen before in Jesus Christ."
And this is the One we call Immanuel, who saw fit to leave his heavenly dwelling and make his home among us, visibly and personally. This is the Incarnation we celebrate at Christmas: the coming of the One of whom the prophet Zechariah said, "Shout and be glad, O Daughter of Zion. For I am coming, and I will live among you," declares the LORD" (Zechariah 2:10). He is the one
who enables the psalmist to declare,
"say to those with fearful hearts,"Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come,
he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
he will come to save you" (Psalm 35:4).
But there is more! The One who came to us then, and who made himself continually present by imparting the Holy Spirit to dwell in the hearts of believers (John 14:26), is also the One who will come again! Revelation 21:1-8, one of the Advent Scriptures, gives us a beautiful description of what will happen on that Day:
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!"
And so our Jesus, the supreme expression of God with us, will come and dwell among us fully and finally. He will make everything new and--the most encouraging thing to me this first Christmas after Grandma Russell's death--will do away with the affects of sin, all pain and death and mourning. Glory! This is the holy paradox: our God has come...and He is coming to reign forevermore!
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Advent Confessions
Our 6 p.m. service tonight at Walnut Hill was beautiful. Not only did we sing Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus, but the sermon was about sin. Call me crazy, but I love a good sermon about sin.
Don't get me wrong--I'm not one of these legalists who loves to wallow in condemnation and guilt. It's just that sometimes I'm so painfully unaware of my need for a Savior. And if you ask me, that's the worst place to be at Christmastime. After all, how can you rejoice in being free if you don't recognize the depth of your sin to begin with?
I have a sweet little gaggle of high school girls who come to my house once a week to study the Bible. It's the most precious time. And yesterday, as we were munching on M&M cookies, talking about boys, and discussing Romans 5, one of them said something really insightful about sin and our need for God's grace. I shared Spurgeon's famous quote with them: "If your sin is small, your Savior will be small. But if your sin is great, then your Savior will be great also." We talked about how Spurgeon (and Paul, whom he was sort of paraphrasing) wasn't saying that we should sin more...he wasn't even necessarily claiming that some sins are greater than others. Rather, he was alluding to how we understand our sin.
Here's a confession: I sometimes pretend my sin isn't such a big deal, that I'm doing okay, really. And that's when my Jesus starts to seem awfully small, too.
So tonight, I relished the reminder of sin's potency in my life. There was a time of silent confession, reminiscent of Sundays at Third, that seemed oh-so-appropriate just days before this holiday where we celebrate the Incarnation. My sin is great. So great, in fact, that it demanded the death and resurrection of God's own Son to reconcile it. That God would pay that price for me, for the world, is the real miracle of Christmas.
Tonight's Advent Scriptures included John 3:16-21. I think I might have skipped over those familiar verses had it not been for the timing of this evening.
Don't get me wrong--I'm not one of these legalists who loves to wallow in condemnation and guilt. It's just that sometimes I'm so painfully unaware of my need for a Savior. And if you ask me, that's the worst place to be at Christmastime. After all, how can you rejoice in being free if you don't recognize the depth of your sin to begin with?
I have a sweet little gaggle of high school girls who come to my house once a week to study the Bible. It's the most precious time. And yesterday, as we were munching on M&M cookies, talking about boys, and discussing Romans 5, one of them said something really insightful about sin and our need for God's grace. I shared Spurgeon's famous quote with them: "If your sin is small, your Savior will be small. But if your sin is great, then your Savior will be great also." We talked about how Spurgeon (and Paul, whom he was sort of paraphrasing) wasn't saying that we should sin more...he wasn't even necessarily claiming that some sins are greater than others. Rather, he was alluding to how we understand our sin.
Here's a confession: I sometimes pretend my sin isn't such a big deal, that I'm doing okay, really. And that's when my Jesus starts to seem awfully small, too.
So tonight, I relished the reminder of sin's potency in my life. There was a time of silent confession, reminiscent of Sundays at Third, that seemed oh-so-appropriate just days before this holiday where we celebrate the Incarnation. My sin is great. So great, in fact, that it demanded the death and resurrection of God's own Son to reconcile it. That God would pay that price for me, for the world, is the real miracle of Christmas.
Tonight's Advent Scriptures included John 3:16-21. I think I might have skipped over those familiar verses had it not been for the timing of this evening.
This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what he has done has been done through God.
John 3:19-21
Oh that we might come into the light this Christmas and let our sin be exposed! Then, and only then, will we realize how great is our Savior King, Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
Come, Thou long-expected Jesus,
Born to set Thy people free.
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee!
Born to set Thy people free.
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee!
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Advent Tunes
A friend at the church office sent me a link to an article posted on "Relevant" magazine's website in which the editors picked their favorite spiritual Christmas tunes. (Read it here.) The story is complete with a free playlist of the songs that you can listen to over and over simply by creating an account with Lala.
In the spirit of great Christmas music, I've created my own Advent playlist for you on Lala. It comprises a couple more obscure hymns (imagine that!) than "Relevant's" list, is far less trendy, and excludes Relient K's "I Celebrate the Day" (great melody; the theology is just a little limp), but there are one or two overlapping songs. Unfortunately, there were also a couple of songs I wanted to include that Lala doesn't have...
1. Third Day's Christmas Offerings is consistently good. This song sticks out to me because it's one of my favorite carols in general.
2. I admit, Sufjan Stevens is "weirdly weird"...or "beautifully weird," depending on who you talk to. But I fell in love with "Once in Royal David's City" when we sang it at Third during Advent a couple of years ago. And I've come to love Sufjan's quirky version of this neglected hymn on his Songs for Christmas album.
3. Amy Grant's Breath of Heaven is old school, and maybe a little cheesy. But ever since I played Mary in a Christmas musical at Vale Baptist (the musical was called "The Perfect Gift," and I can still sing a great rendition of "No Room for You"), I have loved imagining what it must have been like to be the mother of Jesus. So something about this song gets to me!
4. O Come, O Come, Emmanuel might be my favorite all-time Christmas hymn. Bold statement, I know. But yall know I love songs that talk about Israel--there's something powerful about reflecting on God's hesed, or "covenant faithfulness" to His people. Rosie Thomas' version of the song is, I think, inspired. I usurped this one from "Relevant's" list, and I just love it!
5. I first heard Jars of Clay's rendition of Little Drummer Boy in my Grandpa Corwin's minivan back in middle school. It's still the best version of the classic I've ever heard. Very back-in-the-day Jars sounding.
6. Union grad Chris Rice's "Welcome to Our World" is a long-time favorite that ties manger to cross beautifully. Lala's version (from an album with a title too lame to mention...) is a letdown compared to the track from Deep Enough to Dream. If you're going to purchase it on iTunes, I'd highly recommend the latter.
7. Emmanuel, from Chris Tomlin's Glory in the Highest: Christmas Songs for Worship, doesn't sound especially Christmasy, but you've got to love the rich lyrics.
8. Of course I can't resist including some Caedmon's Call in any playlist! City on a Hill produced this compilation album last year, and Caedmon's Babe in the Straw is a favorite.
9. Hillsong put out a Christmas album a couple of years ago called Celebrating Christmas that to be honest, I could take or leave but for this one song. O Rejoice is this powerful invitation to behold the God-man. It's easily my favorite modern Christmas song. Lala doesn't feature it for some reason, but you can listen to the full MP3 here.
10. Sandra McCracken sent an e-mail the week before last announcing a new album she'll be releasing in the next few months--it's a sequel to The Builder and the Architect, which was a hymns project. The new album includes a Luther hymn called This is the Christ, and as a Christmas treat, she offered a rough version of the recording to fans via Noisetrade. You can download it for free just by forwarding the link to five friends. Just scroll down the left-hand side of this blog to find the widget. I've loved the song and can't wait for the rest of the album!
11. I couldn't have been more thrilled on Sunday when the Walnut Hill praise band broke into Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus during the offering. Since I've been reading a book by that title (see previous post), I have meditated on the words of the song some this season. After singing it in church on Sunday, I decided to look for an audio version to download. I found several that I really liked--Chris Tomlin and Christy Nockles do a great rendition on Tomlin's Christmas CD and Red Mountain Church, one of my favorite hymns resurgence groups has a beautiful modern arrangement as well. But my favorite is by Daniel Renstrom, a relative newcomer on the worship/hymns scene. His album was produced by Nathan Nockles, and from what I can tell it's really solid. It reminds me of the worship band at West End--just that beautiful blend of rich, old songs put to really quality guitar-driven music. You can listen to a clip of the song here.
So there you have it: my favorite Christmas tunes. I hope they inspire you to press in to the heart of God this Advent Season!
In the spirit of great Christmas music, I've created my own Advent playlist for you on Lala. It comprises a couple more obscure hymns (imagine that!) than "Relevant's" list, is far less trendy, and excludes Relient K's "I Celebrate the Day" (great melody; the theology is just a little limp), but there are one or two overlapping songs. Unfortunately, there were also a couple of songs I wanted to include that Lala doesn't have...
1. Third Day's Christmas Offerings is consistently good. This song sticks out to me because it's one of my favorite carols in general.
2. I admit, Sufjan Stevens is "weirdly weird"...or "beautifully weird," depending on who you talk to. But I fell in love with "Once in Royal David's City" when we sang it at Third during Advent a couple of years ago. And I've come to love Sufjan's quirky version of this neglected hymn on his Songs for Christmas album.
3. Amy Grant's Breath of Heaven is old school, and maybe a little cheesy. But ever since I played Mary in a Christmas musical at Vale Baptist (the musical was called "The Perfect Gift," and I can still sing a great rendition of "No Room for You"), I have loved imagining what it must have been like to be the mother of Jesus. So something about this song gets to me!
4. O Come, O Come, Emmanuel might be my favorite all-time Christmas hymn. Bold statement, I know. But yall know I love songs that talk about Israel--there's something powerful about reflecting on God's hesed, or "covenant faithfulness" to His people. Rosie Thomas' version of the song is, I think, inspired. I usurped this one from "Relevant's" list, and I just love it!
5. I first heard Jars of Clay's rendition of Little Drummer Boy in my Grandpa Corwin's minivan back in middle school. It's still the best version of the classic I've ever heard. Very back-in-the-day Jars sounding.
6. Union grad Chris Rice's "Welcome to Our World" is a long-time favorite that ties manger to cross beautifully. Lala's version (from an album with a title too lame to mention...) is a letdown compared to the track from Deep Enough to Dream. If you're going to purchase it on iTunes, I'd highly recommend the latter.
7. Emmanuel, from Chris Tomlin's Glory in the Highest: Christmas Songs for Worship, doesn't sound especially Christmasy, but you've got to love the rich lyrics.
8. Of course I can't resist including some Caedmon's Call in any playlist! City on a Hill produced this compilation album last year, and Caedmon's Babe in the Straw is a favorite.
9. Hillsong put out a Christmas album a couple of years ago called Celebrating Christmas that to be honest, I could take or leave but for this one song. O Rejoice is this powerful invitation to behold the God-man. It's easily my favorite modern Christmas song. Lala doesn't feature it for some reason, but you can listen to the full MP3 here.
10. Sandra McCracken sent an e-mail the week before last announcing a new album she'll be releasing in the next few months--it's a sequel to The Builder and the Architect, which was a hymns project. The new album includes a Luther hymn called This is the Christ, and as a Christmas treat, she offered a rough version of the recording to fans via Noisetrade. You can download it for free just by forwarding the link to five friends. Just scroll down the left-hand side of this blog to find the widget. I've loved the song and can't wait for the rest of the album!
11. I couldn't have been more thrilled on Sunday when the Walnut Hill praise band broke into Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus during the offering. Since I've been reading a book by that title (see previous post), I have meditated on the words of the song some this season. After singing it in church on Sunday, I decided to look for an audio version to download. I found several that I really liked--Chris Tomlin and Christy Nockles do a great rendition on Tomlin's Christmas CD and Red Mountain Church, one of my favorite hymns resurgence groups has a beautiful modern arrangement as well. But my favorite is by Daniel Renstrom, a relative newcomer on the worship/hymns scene. His album was produced by Nathan Nockles, and from what I can tell it's really solid. It reminds me of the worship band at West End--just that beautiful blend of rich, old songs put to really quality guitar-driven music. You can listen to a clip of the song here.
So there you have it: my favorite Christmas tunes. I hope they inspire you to press in to the heart of God this Advent Season!
Monday, December 7, 2009
Advent Readings
In my quest to find Christmas afresh this year, I ordered a book of Advent meditations called Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus: Experiencing the Peace and Promise of Christmas. It's a collection of 22 essays and sermons by theologians such as John Piper, Tim Keller, Martin Luther, Charles Spurgeon, and R.C. Sproul. It also includes a sermon excerpt of Skip Ryan's, who is the chaplain of Asian Access and a Dallas friend's pastor at Park Cities Pres! The book draws its title from Charles Wesley's hymn by the same name. Check out the lyrics of this lesser known hymn--they're incredible!These readings have been a beautiful complement to the daily Advent Scriptures. I thought I would share a little snippet with you in order to endorse the book. Keller writes:
'In the first chapter of Luke, Elizabeth says, "Blessed is she who has believed what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished." Elizabeth is saying to Mary--and to us--"if you really believe what the angel told you about this baby, if you take it in, you'll be blessed.'
"But our English word 'blessed' is so limp and lightweight. In English we use blessed to mean something like 'inspired.' But in the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures, the word for blessed meant something much deeper than that. To be blessed brings you back to full shalom, full human functioning; if makes you everything God meant for you to be. To be blessed is to be strengthened and repaired in every one of your human capacities, to be utterly transformed.
"What Elizabeth is saying to Mary, and what Luke is saying to us is, 'Do you believe that this beautiful idea of the Incarnation will really happen? If you believe it, and if you will take it into the center of your life, you're blessed, transformed, and utterly changed.'"
I love that! To internalize the Incarnation is to be transformed into all that God intended us to be (i.e. to be regenerated by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit).
So even as this week feels a little frantic, I'm determined not to "bustle about but only in vain" (Psalm 39:6), but in all things to "believe that what the Lord has said will be accomplished" (Luke 1:45).
Grace and peace,
Chelsea
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