Privilege as Duty and Vise Versa

Without privilege, there will be no sense of duty. For example, the person who has no sense of the privilege of living in a free land will feel no duty to serve their country.

A person who feels no duty to help with household chores, thumbs his nose at having a roof over his head, hot meals, and running water.

Where there is no sense of privilege there will be no sense of duty.

Nothing corrodes the soul faster than the idea we are owed something for everything we do.

A mother who bargains with her children offering treats and concessions every time she wishes them to pick up their toys teaches a lesson more harmful than she realizes.

An employee who expects a gratuity or bonus for every extra little bit of effort on the job doesn't deserve the benefit of having one. This is not to disapprove honest compensation or frown on treating a youngster when they are helpful.

But let us be sure we understand duty deserves no compensation and privilege involves no cost. A privilege is a gift that comes at no charge. Likewise, duty is performed without then presenting a tab.

Zechariah the priest entered the Lord's temple to fulfill his duty. It was a priestly obligation to keep incense burning on the golden altar in front of the Most Holy Place. Fresh frankincense was to be supplied before the morning sacrifice and again following the evening sacrifice. This was a duty which was neither a chore nor a bore.

It was expected as every duty should be, yet it was also a privilege.

Unthinkable to Zechariah would be just to skip it. They didn't find Zechariah home in Hasidic mukluks or fishing out at the kibbutz during the hour of prayer. He was in the temple where he belonged by duty and privilege.

And what a privilege indeed, a high privilege! Can there be any other kind? Whoever speaks poorly of privilege except those who abuse it?

Perhaps only once in his life would a priest be granted this privilege since the lot was chosen from among thousands eligible. Of course, Zechariah understood this was a duty imposed by God. He was a priest, and the lot had fallen to him. Scripture calls it serving, not wage earning, grossing salary, or putting up billable hours. It was a sacred obligation.

As duty it deserved not even a thank you.

Jesus said, "Does [the one who has a servant] thank the servant because he did what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.'" (Luke 17:9-10)

Zechariah was not in the temple because he'd get remunerated for time on the clock or earn tips for burning incense. And certainly not because someone coerced him into doing it. He understood the privilege, and that's why he welcomed the duty.

For us, what a supreme privilege it is to enter the House of the Lord. Today, privileges, priceless benefits, and divine favor flow to each and every one of us every time we are in the presence of God's Word. No higher treasure is given us than to hear the preaching of the Gospel and gain the blessings of Christ in the Sacraments. To be forgiven, to be fed, to be lifted up and healed, to be blessed and cared for is pure privilege. It is what Christ regards as His welcomed duty -- a freedom He would perform.

No one has to drag Jesus into the sanctuary every Sunday. No one has to cajole or coax Christ into forgiving sins. The liturgy is not our means to manipulate God. Rather, in every Word it expresses God's accountability to the promise He made to bless us. The liturgy is Christ on duty. He comes to fulfill a promise toward us, not some insufferable job, but the joy of washing your feet, emancipating your conscience through His forgiveness, and cheering your heart by His love.

Scripture adds the significant detail that while Zechariah was on duty "the whole multitude of the people were praying outside at the hour of incense."

These were not folks with particular offices to perform, tasks assigned, or obligations. They came because the Lord was there. They came to pray because God promised to hear them and answer.

There is no record of some guy named Hiram in the temple just because he was on the usher schedule or of two kids named Moesha and Rebekah who only come because they can't go on a youth trip unless they show their face at Temple. No, it only describes the multitude as worshipping. That's privilege. And with the privilege they felt a duty to make use of it.

During Advent, may God reveal again to you the privileges in Christ He grants you without cost, and may He strengthen your regard for His grace and lead you to welcome the duties of a Christian as sacred privilege.

Indeed!

John 6:1-14

After this Jesus went away to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which is the Sea of Tiberias. And a large crowd was following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick. Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. Now the Passover, the feast of the Jews, was at hand. Lifting up his eyes, then, and seeing that a large crowd was coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he would do. Philip answered him, “Two hundred denarii would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?” Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” Now there was much grass in the place. So the men sat down, about five thousand in number. Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated. So also the fish, as much as they wanted. And when they had eaten their fill, he told his disciples, “Gather up the leftover fragments, that nothing may be lost.” So they gathered them up and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves left by those who had eaten. When the people saw the sign that he had done, they said, “This is indeed the Prophet who is to come into the world!”

Jesus came healing the sick by extraordinary signs for exceptional needs.

Jesus came feeding the multitude by natural signs of barley bread and fish for common needs.

Jesus came conserving what He had given by practical signs for future needs.

By which sign is Jesus known as the Prophet who was to come? There were many signs – some amazing, some natural, and some even plain. One sign creates a sensation. Another sign engenders approval. From another is born assent.

When Jesus healed the sick and cast out demons with extraordinary signs of power and authority without instruments or medications, the phenomena aroused a large crowd which followed him because they had seen the signs. Jesus had not healed just one or even several. He was healing “the sick.”

When Jesus fed the five thousand with natural elements of five barley loaves and two fish, he employed physical means and the response was quite regular. The people sat on ground soft with grass and ate their fill from the abundance given them -- not just one or two. He was feeding “the hungry.”

When Jesus preserved the uneaten fragments to the capacity of twelve baskets, this was nothing phenomenal or miraculous. It was an act of commonplace stewardship. Jesus is not a picker salvaging particulars. He saves even fragments so “nothing would be lost.”

It is not merely sensational acts which reveal Christ. He is the Prophet who was to come. But Christ’s mission was not to create commotions and crowds but to cure the incurable.

He acts within the commonplace that we may receive rest for our bodies and food for our tables. He is the prophet who was to come, but as such to remove hunger of every sort and provide for our every need.

Christ Jesus reveals Himself even in what many might regard as entirely unremarkable acts. Gathering fragments of bread and fish is not marvelous or miraculous. He was the Prophet to come, but his mission was not to cover only big needs or critical cares. He came to preserve every good and provide the same forever.

By which sign was Jesus known, because the people do emphatically identified him as the Christ? There are so many signs.

Yet all His signs reveal a single identity. The healer, the provider, the preserver, the teacher and the Christ are all present in this one man, Jesus Christ. Every sign of divine power, care, rescue, and providence has its axis in this one Lord Jesus Christ. He is not Christ because He is sensational. He is Christ also when he might appear ordinary.

Christ Jesus came into the world to be your comprehensive Servant. Your extraordinary needs, when they come, will be met by Him. Your commonplace necessities He will daily supply. No care, exceptional or ordinary will escape him. Moreover, what He has begun He continues. His stewardship and supply endure forever.

This is the One God had promised. This is the Christ who is known by what was promised and fulfilled. This is the Christ of Galilee, the Christ who was to come.

The people didn’t just guess at his identity. They rejoiced in Him. They said, “This is -- indeed -- the Prophet who is to come into the world!” By even one of His signs we know him; yet by all of His signs, sublime or common, he is known to be, indeed, the Prophet who was to come into the world.

Actch'll and Satisfactch'll

Daniel 7:13-14

“I saw in the night visions,

and behold, with the clouds of heaven
there came one like a son of man,
and he came to the Ancient of Days
and was presented before him.
And to him was given dominion and glory and a kingdom,
that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him;
his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away,
and his kingdom one that shall not be destroyed.

A Walt Disney movie gave me my first true childhood fright. “Song of the South” portrays the story of Uncle Remus, an elderly black gentleman who befriends Johnny, a small boy on a Georgia plantation. Nightly, Uncle Remus, by the light of a cook fire, tells enchanting stories about Br’er Rabbit, Br’er Fox, Br’er Bear, and Br’er Coon which delighted the child.

But the movie scene indelibly etched in my memory is of this little boy, my age at the time, innocently running across a large grassy enclosure unaware of a dangerous bull behind him.

Years later, seeing the movie again, I couldn’t believe how tamely that crisis was portrayed. But at the time, I was frightened out of my seat. The weight of the world was on my shoulders, and there was nothing I could do to prevent a terrible hurt. What an inexpressible relief then to know the boy was not killed. Everything turned out well, and all the animated critters now broke into song,

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay.

My, oh my what a wonderful day!

Plenty of sunshine heading my way

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

Mister Bluebird on my shoulder;

It's the truth, it's actch'll.

Ev'rything is satisfactch'll

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

Wonderful feeling, wonderful day!

Now all the cares of life were suspended. All worries disappeared. All my anxiety, burden, and terror evaporated. The weight of the world was no longer on me. Mr. Bluebird was. True and actch’ll. Ev’rything was satisfactch’ll. Nothing of which to be frightened. No care in the world.

Similar to the words of Oscar Hammerstein, another lyricist, “Oh what a beautiful morning, Oh what a beautiful day, I've got a wonderful feeling, everything's going my way.” Every since, these songs remind me of being happy.

Walt Disney’s original theme park in Southern California, the Magic Kingdom, is frequently described as “The happiest place on earth.” I was there its opening summer of 1955 when one could fire cannon down Main Street and not hit anyone. That’s not true today as millions attest, but the Disney parks remain happy places.

But does the Disney brand imply that happiness is a place or a state of mind? To have a truly happy day, must we visit a fantasy land, or suspend reality, or abandon routine tasks? What does it take to be happy?

The prophet Daniel receives a vision which redefines every concept of happiness.

His vision is of Christ, the son of man coming on the clouds of heaven to receive unending glory, majesty, and dominion. But this is no “magic” kingdom. This is the kingdom conferred upon our Lord Christ where all people of every nation and language, without any distinctions of age, race or maturity (Uncle Remus, wise, old and black or Johnny, heedless, young and white) are united — not by fictional narratives but in the authenticity of Christ’s reign, of His everlasting, indestructible dominion.

I became well aware as a child of how vulnerable I am. Even imaginary dangers paralyzed me. At one of Disneyland’s original attractions, the Storybook Land Canal Boats, I didn’t want to ride into the mouth of the whale that first time as a five-year-old. It didn’t make me happy.

As every child enjoys being happy, I did too. And we don’t outgrow that. We all find enjoyments where we can and savor the wonderful Zip-a-dee-doo-dah days with their wonderful feelings which make it seem everything's going my way. But happiness that concludes is no real happiness at all. If fears are simply postponed, how can anyone be truly happy? If happiness is merely a state of mind, I would need endless distractions. If happiness is a place, then it must not only be permanent and perfect, but it must be a place where one can truly live.

No one can live in a movie. And no one can live at Disneyland. Their appeal is through suspension of reality. Scripture, conversely, renders to us the commencement of supreme reality … the Advent of Christ.

Daniel is not given an hallucination. Rather, he is given to see the eternal Kingdom of Christ. There is no magic or fantasy about it. The true Christ, who owns in his own body the humanity of all, is presented before the eternal God. Would Jesus be a defenseless little boy, helpless before the power of the Almighty? Would he employ a fiction to distract God or postpone God's consideration of him? Would he distinguish himself from the nations and peoples of the earth?

No. No on all accounts. Once Jesus was a helpless little boy gored by something far worse than the horns of a raging bull. He actually died within the enclosure of a cross from which all other men fled for fear. But in captivating death within his own holy body, Jesus Christ destroyed death. Now there is no weakness within him. He comes before the Almighty God in the strength of his righteousness and resurrection, having completed perfectly and permanently all that God the Father willed that He should do.

He employs no fiction to deflect the analysis of God. His rather is the blameless account of mankind’s redeemer, the biography of the son of man who spent to the last drop of blood His life on earth for us. He is the living proof that the world’s sins have been atoned for. He does not distinguish himself from us but has united Himself to us. He is the appearance of all humanity before God without sin, without fear, without shame, and without weakness.

Daniel’s vision is no imaginary tale. God gives this revelation of the Christ not so that we can merely feel happy but to guarantee eternal joy with him.

Christ is given kingdom, glory, and an everlasting dominion because He has earned it. Our happiness and blessedness is that this gain for Him was only so that He might deliver it all to us – to all peoples, nations, and languages. And this, not for a brief screening or temporary distraction, but for the everlasting eternity of union with God. We have been given in Christ, not merely a wonderful feeling or wonderful day, but the very One whose name is Wonderful (Isaiah 9:6).

Our song is not “I've got a wonderful feeling, everything's going my way,” but I’m given the unalterable certainty, that all happiness is in Christ’s way.”

It's the truth, it's actch'll. Christ, our life is satisfactch'll.

Have Care for the Pronouns

Genesis 49:18

I wait for your salvation,

O Lord.

Once at the seminary I misspelled the word liturgy in a correspondence. I had spelled it “litergy.” The person I had written took a moment to point out gently my error and scribbled back, "There is no liturgy without “you” in the middle.”

I was grateful to be warned against misspelling again a word so common in a pastor's vocabulary. The little suggested memory device I easily remember. But I have to admit; my pride was slightly offended—embarrassed rather, and although I did not respond again in turn, I tried to compensate by arguing silently to myself, “Yes, but the center of the liturgy is never ‘you.’” The center of the liturgy is a different pronoun. The center is “He (Christ).”

I realize I may sound overly touchy in such things, but our ears should be hypersensitive to pronouns. In prayers, hymn texts, devotional writings, song lyrics and such things the antecedent and number of pronouns can be very telling. All theology is rooted in grammar. The text of Scripture is sacred—including the pronouns. Our confession should also be sacred and precise. We Christians are grammarians, not for some snobby respectability or high and mighty protocol, but because people’s very lives depend on words.

In Leviticus 26, the Lord no less than twenty-eight times says, “I will.” Here are some examples; I will give; I will turn to you; I will make my dwelling among you; I will visit you; I will walk with you. Each of these express the promise of God's favor upon those who walk in His ways. “I” and “you” are both used generously. But the action is God's and we are the recipient of God's favor.

At the same time God warns the ungodly by using with the first person singular pronoun: I will scatter you; I will set my face against you; I will discipline you. The actions of God and His use of the pronouns—the “I” and “you” in His written Word are inspired and necessary to understand.

From us, the application of the first person pronoun “I” can be easily overused. That may be inadvertent; then again, it may also reveal an erroneous theology, even a decentralization of Christ.

Be guarded when you hear a public prayer, devotion, or Christian song encumbered with promises made to God beginning with “I” or expressions of a Christian’s commitment predominate.

One current top ten song lyric among Christian recording artists is expressed this way: “I will stumble, I will fall down, but I will not be moved. I will make mistakes. I will face heartache, but I will not be moved. On Christ the Solid Rock I stand. All other ground is sinking sand. I will not be moved.”

Each phrase taken alone is entirely acceptable.

But look again and ask just how much (if anything) is spoken of Christ at all. Besides the mention of his name, is Christ the center? Clearly, the cumulative focus in not in Christ’s person or work but in the singer’s affirmation of himself or herself which spills over with “I”.

Consider the lyrics of another song presently even higher on the charts, “You are everything that I live for; Everything that I can't believe is happening; You're standing right in front of me, with arms wide open, all I know is everyday is filled with hope 'cause You are everything that I breathe for, and I can't help but breathe You in, and breathe again, feeling all this life within, every single beat of my heart.”

When I heard the first line of this “Christian” song, my first thought was that Christ might be the antecedent of “I” and we Christians the antecedent of “you.” What a wonderful comfort for Christ to say to us, “You are everything that I live for.” That is unadulterated Christian theology.

But one quickly discovers this is not what is sung. The only thing we learn of Christ is that he has wide arms. The crippling lyric rests “hope” in my breathing, feeling, and the beat of my heart. Even at best, Christ’s only shares the spotlight. The pronouns tell the tale.

Consider by contract the superlative pronouns in the following Advent hymn:

Once He came in blessing, all our sins redressing;

Came in likeness lowly, Son of God most holy;

Bore the cross to save us; Hope and freedom gave us.

Now He gently leads us; with Himself He feeds us

Precious food from heaven, Pledge of peace here given,

Manna that will nourish Souls that they may flourish.

Come, then, O Lord Jesus, from our sins release us.

Keep our hearts believing, that we, grace receiving,

Ever may confess You Till in heav’n we bless You.

Ask yourself: which pronouns predominate? Is it not “He/Himself” … the Son of God?

The Christian dynamic and confession must always and entirely be “He” for “us.” We are not being “picky” here. Lives depend on this. The issue in not a mere misspelling or accidental grammatical goof. The pronouns and how we confess them pertains to the centrality of the Gospel and the preeminence of Christ. This is not the high ground we want to surrender.

One Sure Orbit

Luke 1:5-7

In the days of Herod, king of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, of the division of Abijah. And he had a wife from the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. And they were both righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord. But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were advanced in years.

Planets follow an orbit. Mercury, nearest the sun, tracks closest to its star. Others are more far-flung in their orbits. Nevertheless, the sun is always their orientation even if each trace distinctively. Earth may be aware of the orbit of Mars, but the two do not collide. Each has its own track. I doubt anyone on earth is concerned about climate change on Saturn or the local interests of Jupiter because the orbit of earth matters most to us.

Three orbits are noted here in Luke's Gospel. The public, civil orbit was Herod's. He was the Judean king who both brilliantly and brutally governed the Jewish people. His authority came from God who limits the reach of government which can only move well when it stays within the path of God's design to foster order, protect civilians, and administer affairs of the world with justice.

A second orbit is that of the holy ministry. Priests and their divisions who ministered in the house of the Lord were drawn in their orbit near the presence of God. Among them was godly Zechariah whose virtuous wife also came from a priestly family. Zechariah held the duty and privilege to minister the Lord's heavenly gifts, offer holy sacrifices, and lead the people's prayers.

The third orbit was private and personal, the marriage of Zechariah and Elizabeth. Though long and loving, their union had produced no child. Perhaps early in the arc of their life together they anticipated and hoped for children yet never foresaw where the orbit of their lives would lead them.

Each of us has an orbit as well.

Sometimes you feel as if no one else understands the solitary track you follow. So bound to their own affairs and schedules, no one appreciates your hardships or respects your triumphs. Is this meant to be? Are we solitary voyagers trailing a lonely path which too frequently veers into darkness?

For example, Herod quit the way of justice and made friendless tracks to his own ruin. Zechariah faltered in his faith, doubted God's Word, and soon was alone in his silence, not even knowing how to speak. Elizabeth's silent humiliation was her barrenness, another sad and isolating path. Each needed Christ just as each of us need him. Just as every orbit needs a point of orientation and reference, so every person needs God's Savior as the source and center of our lives.

As the centrum for every terrestrial orbit is the sun, so the heart and polestar of our lives is Christ. Whether in the civil realm, the church, or in our personal lives, we need Christ.

The only orbit both safe and free is that which is oriented to Christ; safe because He holds us to Himself by the loving pull and universal magnetism of the Gospel, and free because He gives us divine blessings so vast and good that even all creation cannot contain them.

What orbit are you in? No doubt it has its civil duties, sacred benefits, and personal features unlike that given to anyone else. But you are fundamentally bound to Christ by your baptism. But if the one secure orbit should swerve from Christ to revolve around anything but Him, that other way is neither safe nor free -- as Herod tragically discovered.

Zechariah and Elizabeth were drawn by the Gospel. They joyfully received a son lately born who would herald the rising of the Son of Righteousness. The good news of Christ's coming was betokened by the appearance of John, the forerunner and new Elijah.

It would be his distinctive ministry to direct all humanity, not to himself, for as he said he was not worthy to unlace the sandals of Jesus' feet, but to the center, to the Christ, to the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, to Him Who is Himself the Way and Orbit of our lives, the Truth and Compass, and the Life which is forever both safe and free.

Not by So Much as a Single Yactowatt

Life and light are mysteries to us. Who can fathom what travels at a speed eight hundred seventy thousand times faster than sound? The speed of light alone is almost embarrassing to try and comprehend. I sure can't begin to explain its physics.

But here’s a cute one: According to the Star Trek Technical Manual, the U.S. Starship Enterprise, captained by James T. Kirk and driven by Helmsman Lieutenant Sulu, could travel up to a speed of warp 9.2, a near tenfold advantage over the actual speed of light. Nice try.

I’m a complete ignoramus of even just what light is though I’ve lived with it and benefited from it every day of my life. I’d like a nickel for every time I’ve flipped a light switch as though I were in control of this incomprehensible element. But who am I kidding!

Life is even more a mystery. Job said, “Life is a breath.” (Job 7:7) On one hand it seems so fragile, liable to be snuffed away in a moment -- as quickly as a light blinking out. Yet for Christians, St. Paul affirms our life is “… hidden with Christ in God.” (Col. 3:3) That’s no fragile anchorage. For us in Christ, life is absolutely safe and unalterable.

Again, who can figure it? We’ve experienced and benefited from created life for a good number of years, so it shouldn’t be such a brain twister, but it still is – except in this: St. John says when light shines in the darkness, the darkness can't handle it. Now that I get.

On one level that’s not something you have to believe. You can see it. When the light of one tiny flame from a little teeny match illumines an entire room which moments before was pitch black, that proves darkness hasn’t the slightest power over light.

When a firefly can fly into an ocean of night without fear of being dimmed so much as a single yactowatt by the dark(that’s an actual measurement something like 1/gazillionth of a watt), then light has vanquished.

But the Bible says Christ, in whom was life, is the light of men. Life wasn't given to him nor did He invent It. Life is who He is. And He has given us His life and light.

Christ’s light is not the glow of a firefly or even of the blazing sun of our solar system. That is created light. Christ is Uncreated Light. Even science fiction can't make up a tale on that scale.

But uncreated light is The Light which must be believed. It can't be measured. It can't be weighed. It can't be verified by a clearer eye. The Uncreated Light reveals the truth to us. It judges us. We don’t judge Him.

But probe God's Word and you will discover brilliance. Trust God's Word and your faith will prove to the world that light and life have been given by God to people through His Word.

The darkness has not overcome it and never will. The darkness of lies has not diffused the truth of Christ by a single flicker. The blackness of death hasn’t inhibited the mercy of Christ by a single scintilla. Jesus Christ is the Beacon of God and no one in him can be made to stumble.

“One little word” about Christ the Light fells the Prince of Darkness like a bolt of lightning on a toad. One single Word from Him reverses blindness, scatters thick darkness and even raises the dead.

No one can safely deny it.

How do we know? Darkness just doesn’t have what it takes.

The light of Christ has shined into the darkness of ignorance, sin, and shame – and the darkness has not overcome it.

Advent is Pregnant

Galatians 4:4-5

But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.

There are a few things we know about pregnancy. There’s no such thing as a little pregnant. She is or she isn't. Also, a pregnancy eventually leads to a birth. Pregnancies end. They’re supposed to – for the joy of the new birth. Just as it isn't possible to be partially pregnant; neither is it possible to be permanently pregnant. I think there are a lot of women who are glad for that. Lastly, there’s always an explanation behind a pregnancy. They never just happen.

Well, Advent is like pregnancy.

No one can prepare spiritually for the coming of Christ – kinda. That’s like kinda repenting or kinda believing. Which is it? Do you repent this Advent or don’t you? Just as there’s no such thing as being “a little pregnant. there’s no such thing as being a little baptized or a little forgiven.

Since none of us can be sorta wrong, there’s no place in Advent for being partly repentant. Nor are any of us just kinda under the law. If we are human beings, we are totally under the rule of God's law. That goes for Jesus too. When He was born, he didn’t just put a toe into the world. In Mary’s womb, Jesus was already entirely under the law. The embryonic Jesus, the gestational Jesus, the fetal Jesus, the newborn Jesus, the toddler Jesus, the pubescent Jesus, the adolescent Jesus, and certainly the adult Jesus was never just a little bit under the law.

And add on this: God didn’t send his Son to just kinda redeem those under the law. No. He redeemed us -- period.

Advent is like pregnancy. It’s wonderful, but it leads ultimately to the “blessed event.” The fullness of time did eventually come when everything God said would happen did! At the perfect time, God sent His Son to us. Just like pregnancies always lead to a birth, God's promises always lead to their fulfillment in Christ.

If you read this passage carefully it sounds like time itself was pregnant, full of expectancy from God's first promise of a Savior in Genesis right up to Nazareth and Bethlehem.

Pregnancy is always looking forward. We observe the time of Advent looking forward to Christmas … because God really came through for us! Our anticipation isn't wasted. It never is when we cling to God's Word. Christian faith is never disappointed when it nests in the Word.

Yes, those Old Testament years became heavy and heavier with waiting, but faithful believers always knew God’s Word isn't a kind of spiritual Siberia where promises go to die. God's Word is where those promises are made and fulfilled.

Anyone who by-passes Advent never gets to Christmas. There’s never a birth without a pregnancy. Advent is like pregnancy. If you don’t have that first, the result is some sort of Christmas without the birth.

How many misguided folks just think Christmas comes around the same every year in a kind of unending loop where everybody does the holiday thing but never gets around to the baby’s birth? Passing up on Advent, they never really get to Christmas. They don’t see the central Advent significance that God honors His promises in Christ! Christmas is those promises fulfilled.

Advent is like pregnancy bursting with eagerness and expectancy. Why? Because God's Son is coming. And not just coming, but God’s Son is coming to be born of a woman! This isn’t something that just happens inexplicably leaving us to go around scratching our heads and pacing back and forth as if we don’t know what’s happening in the delivery room.

God tells us exactly what’s happening and why.

God's Son is born of a woman, in time, and under the law. This pregnancy and birth isn't more or less about Jesus. It’s all about Jesus. God deliberately sent His Son to be our Savior. So, why? Well; without God Himself coming as a true man (“born of a woman”) in our place there wouldn’t be any redeeming, no saving for any of us from our debt to the law.

So, what’s the real consequence of this pregnancy? It all comes down to this: His coming and living in our flesh and being obedient under the law in our place is the very thing which has made our adoption as God's children possible.

So start getting out those birth announcements that proclaim how He is absolutely one of us and what He’s done is nothing less than re-birth me! That’s not more or less the message of our Christian faith. That IS our Christian faith. Jesus Christ, the one great, perfect, never-to-be-surpassed Gift is coming! And Advent is pregnant with this news.

Between Pride and Meekness

As a young friar in Ken Follett's epic novel The Pillars of the Earth, Philip struggles between pride and meekness in his aspirations as a man of God. He is counseled by a wise monastic brother, "When you're thinking, please remember this: excessive pride is a familiar sin, but a man may just as easily frustrate the will of God through excessive humility."

Never can it be said Jesus was not humble. No greater king had ever appeared before more sacred precincts than those at Jerusalem, yet, this king rides to his awe-full destiny on a donkey's colt. Protected by no weapons, attended by no security, bearing no symbols of conquest, Jesus is carried by a lowly beast of burden. Relatives of burros and mules convey no majesty.

Here is acute meekness. No, there is no danger of presumption here.

Yet, Jesus does not hush the disciples. Laud and praise for Him is loud and prolonged. Already from the Mount of Olives, through the Kidron vale to the city gate, Jesus is extolled and exalted, "Blessed is the King ... glory in the highest." The refrain is cried a thousand times. Joyful liturgy of the Advent King resounds across the valley and echoes in the hills. "Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!" and to it comes the jubilant response, "Peace in heaven and glory in the highest."

Here is perfect royalty. No, there is no danger of timidity here.

Jesus will neither sin by false humility nor by lofty mendacity.

He is, in truth, the King who comes in the name of the Lord, speaking the Lord's Word and doing the Lord's work of accomplishing our salvation. He is the fulfillment of all Messianic promises, rejoicing for which must eternally resound and rise to new heights with every breath.

Yet, Jesus is also scorned and shamed. Beneath scourings, beneath even contempt, Jesus is the nadir of indignity, the Scum-in-Chief. Soon he is not even good enough for a jackass but becomes a beast of burden himself who must heave his own cross to the place of execution.

What beast of burden is this? The Lamb of God who carries the sin of the world! This-- not by any disobedience or even one minuscule flaw of his own but because He comes for you.

Therefore, when you find yourself showing off as a hedge against bent moral inferiority or when you congratulate conceit within yourself behind a coy exterior, know you have fatally tipped the scales one way or the other against yourself and frustrated the will of God.

Yet Christ came to free you.

Jesus came to Jerusalem in favor of you. His advent was not in false modesty or swollen superiority. His greatness was in humility; his strength was in his weakness. Now our living is in His dying and all of our receiving is through His giving.

Remember this during Advent and you'll find yourself singing not once or twice, but unendingly, "Blessed is the King ... glory in the highest. Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!"

Dream !

To wish, to hope, and to dream. Since these occur so naturally to us from childhood, the practice is most often associated with childish flights of imagination. In fact, we encourage and celebrate the fancies of innocent children especially in a season such as that ahead of us which is ripe for such yearnings. The wish lists of boys and girls and the eager expectations of little ones cause their elders to smile and often work to fulfill those dreams. No one wants youngsters to set their hearts on something only to have hopes dashed. So, make a wish and dare to dream, children, before reality sets in.

Yet, somehow we never outgrow or shed our weakness for hopes and dreams. Imprudent and impracticable as it may seem, and hardly adult, there isn't one of us who doesn't yearn for something or someone. Even the most grizzled pragmatist bears his secret wishes. Admit it. You dream too -- a lot. You may believe yourself to have learned to manage such naïveté without letting wishes run away with you. Yet, like a climber clutching for a handhold or a doctor's patient waiting by the phone, the hunger for something good to happen is universal.

Our inclination as Christians may be to separate ourselves from wishful thinkers and pride ourselves in grounded hopes. "For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience." (Romans 8:24-25)

It is not our idea of Christian belief to dream the impossible dream, to wish upon a star or cross our fingers. Of course not. Yet, let us be cautious not to reduce our Christian hopes and dreams to dull practicality. Christian faith does not mean we simply man up to the realities of life, put aside childishness, and begin some tedious wait. Advent joy is not in a Gospel merely sensible or serviceable.

The coming of Christ is the uprising of outrageous hopes, radical dreams, and sweeping expectations beyond anyone's highest imaginations. We are youngsters of a good and tender Heavenly Father who will not have his children's hearts set on eternal life, peace and paradise only to have such hopes dashed. That is why He invites us to behold His servant, God's own servant, God's own beloved servant -- His Son, Jesus Christ, in whom the Spirit of hope dwells.

The Apostle Paul does not over-speak his wishes when he writes to the Romans, "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope." (Rom. 15:13)

Yes, compared to the comparatively mundane things of which people so often dream, our greater Christ-anchored hopes of an endless life in communion with God, of joy exceeding, and being clothed with righteousness seem unattainable. It is hope above all hope. But of this we may truly dream with soaring forethoughts of all good to happen. Our dreams are not silly nor our hopes preposterous. One cannot imagine any good beyond our Lord's ability to supply. No thought can surpass His gifts. No dream is too lofty. No hope is too vast.

So, with the coming of Christ, should we not be wish-full thinkers and dreamers of dreams? We live in the actual days of which God declared, "I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your young men shall see visions, and your old men will dream dreams." (Acts 2:17)

The Dear Desire of every nation comes. In the Christ of God the Gentiles have placed their hope. Dreams may fly. Our yearning faith may leap with delight as an unrestrained child foresees a perfect Christmas morning.

The fact is -- reality has set in. A Christian's dreams are not protection against reality -- an outlet or escape from it -- but a confession which embraces it. We dream from the certainty of Christ, Hope of the world.

Things Will Never Be the Same Again

Through the curtain of mist which hung before sunrise on the western hills of Galilee a shiver of joy ran through the brotherhood of Jesus’ beloved ones. From the water’s rim they heard the sound of His voice skim the surface and a glow of fire piloted them toward shore.

The turbulent, glorious days of Jesus' crucifixion and resurrection were accomplished. Now the disciples were back home working. And into that waxen hour Jesus came. When men were stripped down for work Jesus revealed Himself into the life setting of a workday morning. Things would never be the same again.

At an unexpected moment the Lord appeared to them as if to say; it doesn't matter the day, the hour, the place, or occasion, Easter isn't over! From now through eternity itself, at your every morning, at every meal, inside every activity it will never be the same again for you.

The dynamic of Easter is not a pause in the day's occupations but propulsion into new life!

Because of the events of Easter, the bodily resurrection and victory of Jesus Christ over death, we are literally propelled from our own unprofitable darkness into the whole-hearted, life-long, chock-full, over-flowing joy of Easter brimming, like nets bursting with fish, in the never-ending color, aroma, and relish of life. The grace of Easter is ours forever.

Via Easter we may now get on with real living!

"Get on with your life" is another way of saying, "Leave your troubles behind and enjoy the carefree privilege and zest of having been re-born which not only sounds mighty wonderful Easter morning but is also directly intended for the gray chilled twilight when a man comes off the night shift.

When we encounter times of personal reversals, when life seems like a string of inevitable disappointments, when God sometimes seems to have failed to vest us with a bit of the divine energy that brought Jesus from the grave, we are reminded Easter isn't over—death is!

Things will never be the same again! For any of us!

Isaiah wrote, "On this mountain (that is Calvary) he will destroy the shroud that enfolds all peoples, the sheet that enfolds all nations."

Because of Jesus’ resurrection, things will never be the same for you and me. Death is over, and with its destruction go all it's accessories: the distress of the women, the perplexity of the disciples, the fear of the upper room, the doubt, the weeping, the grief, all past failures and misdirected thoughts.

It's like when a sickness is taken away, and with it go the pills, lozenges and plasters, the elixirs, therapy, and tonics, as well as the pain, the bacteria, the weakness, the depression, the infection, and everything else associated with it. "The last enemy to be destroyed is death," Paul wrote to the Corinthians.

Easter is the new day. Live in confidence, in power, and in grace. Just hearing John say from the boat, "It is the Lord" is the greatest single antidote for discouragement. Our Lord Jesus makes all the difference in the world! We are not just celebrating His resurrection, but also our own!