Month: December 2016

Invariably as the Christmas season comes to a close, well meaning friends will inquire, “Did you get what you wanted?” or “Was time with your family everything you hoped it would be?”

There are any number of answers to these questions. Some years we do, some years we can’t even so we smile and pretend, and some years are actually quite crushing, falling exceedingly short of any semblance of happy holidays. What we want and what we hope for from these sentimentally charged days changes from year to year.

But these questions linger well beyond the month of December, do they not?

Anna is a church figure highly esteemed. Her pedigree impressive; from the tribe of Asher, daughter of Phanuel, a prophetess. Her legacy impeccable; never leaving the temple, she worshipped night and day, fasting and praying.

And many a beautiful baby girl has been named in her honor.

What isn’t talked about as much is she had a husband she shared a home with for seven years. For sixty four years after that, she lived as a widow…no husband, no home. I wonder how long it took her to turn the life she thought she would have, and the life she was born to have, into grateful devotion? I wonder when asked if she got everything she wanted, what she would’ve said in year 2 at the temple, or year 15 of widowhood, or year 27 as her bones creaked loudly when kneeling to pray, or year 39 and still no sign of the Messiah?

It’s emotionally expedient for us to sum up a life as well lived as Anna’s with a succinct little narrative, rather than to chronicle the years one by one.  But 64 years is 64 years, regardless of the era in which one was born. Days are long, challenges arise, expectations shatter, friendships wane.

And Anna was no less a victor and a failure than we.

Yet her life is celebrated because of the faithfulness it displayed.  The accumulation of all the lonely days and sleepless nights didn’t distract her from her worship, but became a part of it. As a result, she was present when Mary and Joseph brought the baby to the temple; she was there to touch the tender cheek of the one she’d prayed and fasted decades for. In living every day of every unintended year, she didn’t miss the moment that gave her life its very essence.

She saw the Lord, her promised king, in infant form.

Isn’t that what we ultimately want this Christmas? To see Jesus face to face? To know him so well, we’d recognize him anywhere, come what may?

Then take heart, dear soul, your years count; each empty, tragic, wonderful one of them.

Love the Lord, all you his saints. The Lord preserves the faithful…  Psalm 31:23

If you’re a parent then you know the beauty of watching a little life grow. You know what it is to mold character and hone skill; to share afternoon cuddles and races around the house.  And although some days are long you know, deep down, they are the sweetest you will ever see.

Now imagine.

You’re an unassuming, somewhat ordinary teenager (albeit engaged to be married) when the angel Gabriel appears to you.  During his celestial greeting, you learn you are highly favored of the Lord.

And you are troubled by these words.

Seeking to calm your uncertainty, Gabriel goes on to explain the Holy Spirit’s plan; you will conceive a son and call him Jesus, Son of the Most High, and he’ll reign on David’s throne forever.  Being a virgin this is hard to fathom, so by way of solidarity, he informs you your cousin Elizabeth (who’s old enough to be your grandmother) is pregnant.  The intended message:  nothing is impossible with God.

And you, defined by your willing service, sign on.

Then quickly make your way to Elizabeth’s house!  Such wisdom she has.  She knows.  She affirms.  She blesses you as your fears give way to praise and adoration.

And you stay with her for as long as you can.

But all too soon decrees are given, hometowns departed, journeys made.  With belly in full bloom you go to a place you’ve never been, to do a thing you’ve never done, to observe a group you’ve never met, bow before the babe now wrapped warmly and securely by your side.  You listen as wise men and shepherds recount, while the light of the most significant star illumines the scene.

And you take all this in and hide it deep way down in your heart.

Mere days later you present this precious child at the temple where Simeon, a God-fearing man, prays over him and proclaims he sees not only the salvation of Israel, but all of mankind, in the face of your sweet boy.

And you marvel.

But he goes on to say that the little one you cradle is destined to be a figure misunderstood, spoken against, and rejected.  And you, dear mother, will feel the sword thrust through your own soul.

Now Imagine.

Knowing parental challenges like conquering homework, navigating relationships or teaching the art of good decision making would pale in comparison to watching your son breathe death for the whole of humanity.

Imagine.

Knowing at the tender beginning, it would end in piercing pain. And just a few short months ago, you were a kid without a care in the world.

After this his wife Elizabeth became pregnant and for five months remained in seclusion.  ‘The Lord has done this for me’, she said.  ‘In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people.’  Luke 1: 24-25

As a child, the days between Thanksgiving and Christmas seemed to slow to an unbearable, near slow-motion tick.  Every morning was filled with anticipation for the morning.  Festivities designed to keep my attention diverted from the count down calendar (referred to by serious grown-ups as Advent) helped.  A little.

There were parties and pageantry, lightings and trimming of trees, greetings from far-away family and friends, and best of all, music.  Between Perry Como and Amy Grant records playing on the giant sideboard-like turntable situated in our dining room, I sang my way through many Decembers.

Ever looming though was the awareness that the pinnacle of the year, the day that made all 364 previous days pale in their attempt at glory, was Christmas Day.  Because on that day, I believed something magical lay wrapped beneath the tree, hand picked just for me.

Much of the Christmas story, and our own stories, are enveloped in the belief of what is yet to come. Elizabeth waited her entire child-bearing years for a baby; when none came, she refused to accept that her advanced age could somehow limit the God she trusted. What seemed absurd to hope for, even to her own husband, God gave. They eventually had a son who was “a joy and a delight; filled with the Holy Spirit from birth, in order to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”

A Christmas miracle.

Or as Elizabeth put it, “Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!”

Thirty years after his birth, their son John proved to be the gift that kept on giving.  “The people were waiting expectantly and were wondering in their hearts if John might possibly be the Christ.”  But he answered them, “..One more powerful than I will come.”

 Jesus.

The physical form of the invisible God, John beheld, baptized, and bestowed on those already prepared.

Wonder. Expectancy. Possibility.  These are the gifts of Christmas Advent.

These are how we fill our days of waiting; with childlike anticipation for the wonders of his love to be revealed in us. These are how we honor our years of expectant longing; with joyous confidence the One through whom all things are possible, has come.

Our belief is he came as a baby, grew as a man, died as a savior, and lives as king.  Our assurance is he is coming again.

He who testifies to these things says, “Yes, I am coming soon.” Even so, Come Lord Jesus.  Revelation 22:20

A few years back, I wrote a series on the women of Advent. Over the course of the next two weeks, I want to share their stories again, as a way to encourage our hearts for what the coming of Christ actually means for us and our lives. We are deeply American, and grateful to be, but with this comes the burden of “have to”.  We have to plan, shop, wrap, bake, invite, decorate, create memories to last a lifetime. Sometimes we fail and sometimes we surprise ourselves at what we manage to accomplish. It’s a curse and a blessing, this American Christmas.

But none of it is why Christ entered our world thousands of years ago. These things we “have to” do this time of year, we do for love of country and tradition. But they are not required of our faith. Allow that to place in proper perspective the lingering to-do list resting on your counter.

The advent of God…his arrival, appearance, materialization…to us in human form, interrupted lives, it did not compliment them. He did not fit in to schedules and family planning, nor adjust to cultural or religious norms. He brazenly adjourned the daily activities of these dear women, and altered the course of human history through their faith-filled willingness to trust in what they could not logically explain. Namely, him.

It wasn’t easy for them. They weren’t believed, they weren’t safe, they were often lonely and somewhat misfits in the world of what women do to prove their worth. They had to let that go to prepare for Christ’s arrival. For months if not years. Let go. Of best laid plans, of understanding, of accomplishment.

In exchange, they got him. His being, his light, his favor. Think about that. God’s favor. More than approval it meant they had his assistance, his backing, his support. Isn’t that what every American woman’s heart is longing for right about now? It’s there, in their stories. Which is why they bear repeating.

Elizabeth … Mary … Anna

Though none of us have waited past menopause to become pregnant with our firstborn, nor been assigned the virgin birth, nor spent 60 years in the temple praying, we’ve been extended the invitation to trust nonetheless. Here, in America, in the 21st century.

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given…

How will our lives be interrupted? How will our faith supersede our circumstance? How will the unpleasant accepting of what we thought our lives would be, pressed up against what is, give us greater anticipation for the coming Christ?

He is called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

What’s not to look forward to?  Emmanuel, God with us, is coming.