"On the day the tabernacle, the Tent of the testimony was set up, the cloud covered it. From evening till morning the cloud above the tabernacle looked like fire...Whenever the cloud lifted from above the Tent, the Israelites set out; wherever the cloud settled, the Israelites encamped. At the Lord's command the Israelites set out, and at His command they encamped."
Numbers 9:15-18
One of the "assignments" I'm most excited about this semester at Walnut Hill is a parenting class our team is helping to teach for the morning women's ministry, AM/FM.
Maybe it seems a little presumptuous for a 25-year-old single girl with no kids to teach a class on parenting teenagers, but I've always felt that my family's story lent itself to interacting with students AND parents. So I'm super-excited that I get to teach the week on families! And since I'm the resident "party girl" on our staff youth team, I get to teach on teen partying one week, too. The class facilitators collaborated with our crew to choose the book: When Kids Hurt: Help for Adults Navigating the Adolescent Maze. It's a paired-down version of an earlier, more textbookish title by Chap Clark that addresses the issue of teenage abandonment and how it affects every area of a student's life. The idea is that we adults who care about adolescents (parents, youth workers, teachers, etc.) need to boldly step into a teenager's world and reverse the systemic abandonment he or she feels. It's a tall order, but one our team wholeheartedly believes in.
I commend the book--and the class (if you're a mom here in CT)--to you. We've given a copy to each one of our Walnut Hill Youth (WHY) Ministries leaders to read in the coming months, so I'm excited to see how this line of thinking will impact our ministry!
I love the idea of New Years resolutions, but I hate my follow-through. There's something about determining that your life will change on January first that sort of sets you up for failure. As if the start of a new month in a new year in a new decade meant a magical solution to the fact that I eat ice cream and skip the gym and say ugly things about people. As if the new year will mean a whole new me.
And anyway, I made my New Years resolutions back in August this year. (I'm still almost-daily asking God for the grace to accomplish them, by the way!)
So there's just one thing I really want to resolve to do in 2011, and that's read the Bible all the way through in a year. It's been years since I did it, and I just want to be really intentional about being in the Word this year.
At certain times in my life, I've felt so...addicted to Scripture--during the summer I worked at Poplar Springs Baptist outside of Richmond, in particular. I had shared with my students that I felt like a different person when I wasn't in the Word. One morning at a youth event, I was a little out of sorts. One of my high schoolers, a really special kid named Buddy, asked me, "Chelsea, did you read your Bible this morning?" I confessed that I had not. "I didn't think so," he replied, shaking his head. "You'd better go read it."
Since moving to Connecticut, I've lost some momentum. (It happens in full-time ministry, I'm afraid. Sad, but true.) Anyway, I don't want Bible reading to be a legalistic thing, but something that I depend on to be who I am. During Advent, I always feel like that--like I just can't get by without the Word morning and night. It's the sweetest time, and I guess I'm inspired to build on that.
It's Day 11, and I'm happy to report that I'm on schedule. And what I love about disciplined Bible-reading is that it always yields such fruit in my life. Like on Day 2, when I uncovered a little nugget of truth in Genesis that fit oh-so-perfectly into a two-part Bible study I'm writing for myMISSIONfulfilled on forced labor in Exodus and Matthew. Or on Day 10, when I read something in Proverbs that jumped off the page and hollered "apply me!!!!" I'm always amazed at the connections in Scripture, and how the Word shapes us to be who we're becoming in Christ. It's a beautiful thing.
I encourage you to read along with me this year! It's only January 11, after all, and if you start today, it will only take you an hour or so to catch up! If you don't want to purchase the One Year Bible (because really, you have 16 Bibles at your house already, and couldn't you use the $10 to buy a Bible for someone else?) you can use the reading guide I found at bibleonline.com:
One last thought: Even though I'm not naive enough to believe that I'll become a whole new person in 2011, I do believe that we Christians are being transformed and made new every day. My favorite Advent passage this year--and just one of my favorite Scriptures in general--was Revelation 21:1-5 (I had my dad read this aloud to us on Christmas Eve, and we wept, thinking about Grandma and Grandpa Russell who are now living in the fullness of this reality!):
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, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell 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!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
Year's End O Love beyond compare, Thou art good when thou givest, when thou takest away, when the sun shines upon me, when night gathers over me.
Thou hast loved me before the foundations of the world, and in love didst redeem my soul; Thou dost love me still, in spite of my hard heart, ingratitude, distrust.
Thy goodness has been with me during another year, leading me through twisting wilderness, in retreat helping me to advance, when beaten back making sure headway.
Thy goodness will be with me in the year ahead I hoist sail and draw up anchor, with thee as the blessed Pilot of my future as of my past. I bless thee that thou has blinded my eyes to the waters ahead.
If thou has appointed storms of tribulation, thou wilt be with me in them; if I have to pass through the tempests of persecution and temptation, I shall not drown; if I am to die, I shall see thy face sooner; if a painful end is to be my lot, grant me grace that my faith fail not; if I am to be cast aside from the service I love, I can make no stipulation.
Only glorify thyself in me whether in comfort or trial, as a chosen vessel meet always for thy use.
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
"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
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.
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.
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.
This Christmas, may you rejoice in the One who came and died a real, fleshly death for you.
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? Inan 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
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.
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
The class facilitators collaborated with our crew to choose the book: When Kids Hurt: Help for Adults Navigating the Adolescent Maze. It's a paired-down version of an earlier, more textbookish title by Chap Clark that addresses the issue of teenage abandonment and how it affects every area of a student's life. The idea is that we adults who care about adolescents (parents, youth workers, teachers, etc.) need to boldly step into a teenager's world and reverse the systemic abandonment he or she feels. It's a tall order, but one our team wholeheartedly believes in.
