Monday, December 23, 2024

“Making Room for Christ” (Matthew 1:18-25)

 

Jesus’ Quake

When Joyce and I were expecting our first baby, Lydia, we spent nine months preparing for her arrival. We wanted to make sure she would come into a safe and welcoming home. We removed all hazardous items and carefully chose a crib. We bought baby clothes, diapers, and supplies. We even decorated her room with love, expectantly counting the days until her due date. 

When we prepared for Lydia’s arrival, it wasn’t just the house that changed—our lives changed. We had to adjust our routines, our priorities, and even our future plans. Everything revolved around her needs and her presence. Her coming was not just a moment of joy; it was a moment of transformation

Now imagine the arrival of Jesus—not just a baby, but the King of Kings. His coming doesn’t just cause small adjustments; it’s life-changing. Tim Keller compares the coming of Christ to “a life-quake.” 

When a great big truck goes over a tiny little bridge, sometimes there’s a bridge-quake, and when a big man goes onto thin ice there’s an ice-quake. Whenever Jesus Christ comes down into a person’s life, there’s a life-quake. Everything is reordered… any view, any conviction, any idea, any behavior, any relationship. He may change it, He may not change it, but at the beginning of the relationship you have to say, ‘In everything He must have the supremacy.’ 

Jesus shakes the foundations of who we are and calls us to re-center our lives on Him. His quake might feel unsettling, even costly, but it eventually rebuilds us into something better and more aligned with God’s purpose.

 

Joseph and Mary

Joseph was an ordinary man with ordinary plans—marry Mary, start a family, and live a quiet, normal life. But then his plans were disrupted when he discovered Mary was pregnant, and he knew the child wasn’t his. As a righteous man, Joseph wanted to do the right thing. He decided to divorce her quietly, sparing her public shame. 

But then, in a dream, God sent him a message that completely disrupted his plans again: "Joseph, take Mary as your wife. The child she carries is from the Holy Spirit. He will save His people from their sins."

Imagine the weight of this command! Joseph had to let go of his future plans, his reputation, and his idea of a "normal" life. Yet, without hesitation, Joseph obeyed. He took Mary as his wife and embraced the responsibility of raising Jesus. He chose faith over uncertainty and obedience over complacency. He reoriented his life for the coming of Christ. 

Then there’s Mary. She was a young woman—perhaps in her mid-teens—with her whole life ahead of her. When the angel Gabriel told her she would conceive a child by the Holy Spirit, her life was turned upside down. She must have understood the risk—how her family and community would consider her pregnancy adultery. According to Moses’ Law, she could have been stoned to death. 

Yet, by faith, Mary said, "I am the Lord's servant. Let it be with me just as you have said." She willingly embraced the uncertainty, the risk, and the potential shame because she trusted God’s plan. Mary’s courage and obedience show us what it means to trust God, even when doing so could have cost her life.

 

No Little People

When we think about those God used for His great plans in the Bible, most of them were unlikely candidates. Jacob was a liar. Moses struggled with public speaking. David was the youngest in his family. Jonah was racist. Peter was an impulsive fisherman. Mary Magdalene carried a painful past. Timothy was timid. From a human perspective, these would not be the first draft picks. 

But they all had one thing in common: they were willing—willing to adjust, willing to make room for God, willing to give their whole selves to God. 

Francis Schaeffer wrote: “There are no little people and no big people in the true spiritual sense, but only consecrated and unconsecrated people. The problem for each of us is applying this truth to ourselves.”  Both Joseph and Mary were consecrated people. They were willing to take a leap of faith. They let go of their own plans, risk their reputations, and trust God completely. Then and now, God is looking for willing, consecrated people. 

 

Harriet Tubman

Harriet Tubman was an unlikely choice. She was born a slave in Maryland, subjected to cruelty from an early age. At twelve, she suffered a severe head injury when a slave master, intending to hit another person with an iron weight, missed the target and struck her instead. The trauma caused migraines and seizures for the rest of her life. Yet, as a teenager, Harriet began to receive visions and dreams that she believed were from God. She was chosen and called.

If you were looking for a liberator to overthrow the evil of slavery, wouldn’t you pick someone powerful—a politician, a military leader, or a great intellect? But God chose Harriet—a woman with no status, no resources, and physical challenges. Why? Because she was willing. 

Harriet first escaped slavery herself and then returned to Maryland thirteen times, smuggling over seventy enslaved individuals to freedom—some accounts estimate as many as three hundred. Those she liberated called her “Moses.” During the Civil War, she served as a nurse, scout, spy, and military leader. Later, she became an advocate for women’s rights and the elderly, serving faithfully in the Methodist church. Harriet once said, "God’s time is always near. He set the North Star in the heavens." 

Like Harriet, God calls us not because we are extraordinary, but because He is extraordinary. What He asks of us is our willingness to say yes. 

 

Making Room for Christ

Let me share a story about a boy named Wally. Wally was in 7th grade, and life hadn’t been easy for him. His mother had struggled with alcoholism when he was born, which left Wally with some learning challenges. But Wally was a kind-hearted boy. 

One Christmas, his Sunday School class decided to put on a Nativity play. Everyone was excited to take on roles—Mary, Joseph, shepherds, wise men. But no one wanted to be the innkeeper. So the teacher picked Wally, partly because he was the tallest in the class. His job was simple: open the door, say, “There’s no room here!” and slam it shut. 

The big night arrived. The church was packed. When Mary and Joseph knocked on the door of the inn, Wally opened it, just as rehearsed.  Joseph said, “Please, sir, we need a place to stay. My wife is about to have a baby!” Wally confidently replied, “There’s no room here!” Joseph pleaded again, “Please, isn’t there anywhere we can stay?” Wally froze. He forgot his next line. The teacher whispered from behind the curtain, “No! Be gone!” Finally, Wally stammered, “No… be... gone.” Mary and Joseph turned sadly to leave, but then Wally did something unexpected. He called out, “Wait! Wait a minute!” The room went silent. Then, with tears in his eyes, he said, “There’s no room here, but you can have my room!” 

 

The Lord Is Near

Perhaps one of the most beloved, most sung Christmas hymns would be "Joy to the World." This song was written by Isaac Watts in 1719 inspired by Psalm 98. When Rev. Watts wrote this song, his intention was to celebrate Jesus’ seconding coming as King rather than his birth.

Often we sing, “Joy to the world, the Lord has come.” But actually, he wrote: 

Joy to the World, the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing.

Watts was not just writing about the past – the birth of Jesus. He was writing about the future return of Jesus. In Revelation 22 Jesus said three times, “I am coming soon.” May we be found faithful. May we be ready for his coming, joining heaven and nature’s unending hymn with all our hearts, “Joy to the world, the Lord is come!”  Amen.

Sunday, December 8, 2024

“A Time for Trials” (Luke 1:11-20)

 

Where Is God?

A couple had two mischievous boys, eight and ten years old, always causing trouble. Fed up, the parents asked a pastor to talk to them. The pastor agreed and called the younger boy in first. Sitting him down, the pastor leaned in and said sternly, “Where is God?” The boy froze. The pastor tried again, louder, “Where is God?” Still no answer. Finally, the pastor raised his voice and pointed, “WHERE IS GOD?” Terrified, the boy bolted home, ran into the closet, and slammed the door. His older brother found him and asked, “What happened?” The boy whispered, “We’re in big trouble this time. God is missing—and they think we did it!”[1]  It’s funny, but it resonates deeply when we face trials. In those moments, we too ask, Where is God?

 

Disappointments

In today’s passage we meet a godly couple, Zechariah and Elizabeth. The Bible says that they were “righteous in God's eyes, careful to obey all of the Lord's commandments and regulations.” (Luke 1:6, NLT) Naturally, we’d expect them to live “happily ever after.” Yet, verse 7 reveals their heartache: “But they had no children because Elizabeth was unable to conceive, and they were both very old. (v. 7) They were living with the stigma of barrenness. In their culture, this was seen as a disgrace (v. 25)—a sign of God’s curse or displeasure.

Can you imagine their pain and confusion? They prayed, waited, and longed, perhaps wondering, Where is God in all of this?

I think many of us in live in the tension between verse 6 (faith) and verse 7 (unmet desires). For some, it’s the loss of a loved one, financial struggles, or unanswered prayers. For others, it’s loneliness, depression, or broken relationships. While we might see God’s blessings in some areas, in others, we feel “barren” or hopeless, asking, Where is God?

 

Silence

In the midst of their waiting, Zechariah encountered an angel who brought the astonishing news: they would have a son. This child, John the Baptist, would prepare the way for the Messiah. Surely it was an answer to his prayers. (v. 13) But it was too good to believe. Zechariah doubted, asking, “How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years” (v 18). The angel replied, “Since you didn't believe what I said, you will be silent and unable to speak until the child is born. For my words will certainly be fulfilled at the proper time.” (vv. 19-20) That day Zechariah entered a season of silence (nine months of silence) – a kind of “dark night of the soul.” It wasn’t punishment but preparation, a time for him to trust God’s word even when he couldn’t speak or hear.

In August 2007 TIME magazine had an amazing cover story titled “Mother Teresa’s Crisis of Faith.” Mother Teresa’s secret letters were made public by her mentor and colleagues. The letters show that she spent almost 50 years without sensing the presence of God in her life. In one of the letters that she exchanged with her mentor, Rev. Michael Van Der Peet, she says, “Jesus has a very special love for you. As for me, the silence and the emptiness is so great that I look and do not see, listen and do not hear…” In more than 40 communications, she compares the experience to hell, and at one point she says it has driven her to doubt the existence of heaven and even of God. As she was walking through the dark times, her constant prayer was, “Lord Jesus, come, be my light.”

 

Embracing Silence

So what’s the point of this season of solitude and silence? What’s the point of the dark night of the soul? God allows these seasons not to harm us but to draw us closer to Him.

If the purpose of God’s love is to make us safe or happy, he could do that. He could protect us from all dangers, diseases, sufferings, and disappointments. Please don’t get me wrong. God does care for our safety and well-being. But that’s not the ultimate goal of his love. God’s love is not that we be healthy or wealthy and live a long, comfortable life. God’s love is not God’s making much of us. No! God’s love is God’s saving us from self-centeredness, which is, the root of all sin, so that we may enjoy making much of God forever. In his great love God allows us to enter a season of solitude and silence – the dark night of the soul – so that we can be set free from self-centeredness, unhealthy attachments. John Piper rightly said, “God’s love is giving people God. God’s love is showing people God. God’s love is getting people to God. God’s love is helping people be satisfied in God and be willing to lay down their lives for God.” God’s love is God-centered, not self-centered.

What should we do while going through a period of the silence of God? The first thing we can do is to embrace it and go back to basics, instead of denying it or running away from it. Walter Wangerin Jr.’s The Book of the Dun Cow is an allegorical tale set in a world before humans, where animals speak and embody virtues and vices. Chauntecleer, the proud rooster, leads a coop of animals who face evil forces led by Wyrm, a serpent symbolizing darkness and despair. The animals struggle against trials, betrayals, and loss, but they find strength in their daily rhythms of prayer and community. Their faithfulness to the "daily office" (spiritual practices) sustains them and ultimately overcomes the chaos. 

This story beautifully illustrates how steadfast spiritual practices anchor us during life's darkest moments. Zechariah, though he was mute and deaf, didn’t become bitter; instead, he remained steadfast and returned to the basics. He kept praying, he kept serving, he kept holding onto God’s promises. Through these basic spiritual disciplines, he found strength to endure and carry him through this season. Recently, my father had to give up his job he had really enjoyed and was hospitalized for three weeks after a ruptured disk. He began a long recovery journey. When I talked to my mother on the phone the other day, she said, “Reciting the Bible verses is my lifeline and joy these days.” Returning to spiritual basic – prayer, scripture, and community – anchors us in life’s storms.

 

God Is with Us!

Nine months passed. The Bible says, “When the time came for Elizabeth to have her child, she gave birth to a boy.” (Luke 1:57, CEB) In time, God fulfilled what he promised. Zechariah and Elizabeth were not forgotten. Their time of silence was temporary. God’s timing is perfect – always better than ours.

When the time had fully come, God sent his Son. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. And he will make all things new. Imagine – no more sickness, no more death, no more sorrow, but there will be answers, there will be purposes, there will be fullness of joy in God’s presence.

The songwriter, Bart Millard of MercyMe, wrote the song out of his personal grief after losing his father. His father, once abusive, became a transformed Christian before his death from cancer, deeply influencing Bart's faith journey. At his funeral, Bart’s grandmother said, “I can only imagine what he’s seeing now,” sparking the song. The song reflects Bart’s heartfelt question: what would it be like to stand in Jesus’ presence? This question brought him peace and hope as he processed his loss over many years. The song was written in just five minutes, but it captures years of internal struggle, prayer, and silence:

 

Surrounded by Your glory

What will my heart feel?

Will I dance for You Jesus

Or in awe of You be still?

I can only imagine

I can only imagine

 

Are you struggling with doubts and disappointments? Are you struggling with the silence and emptiness? You’re not alone. You’re not forgotten. This too shall pass. Jesus is coming soon. Are you ready? Let us be faithful. Let us live by faith, not by sight. And let our hearts cry, “Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!”



[1] “Where Is God?” https://christianfunnypictures.com/2017/03/god-joke-two-mischievous-brothers.html

Sunday, December 1, 2024

“A Time for Renewal” (Luke 3:3-14)

 

Change the Course

Frank Koch, in the Naval Institute magazine, shares a story. A battleship was sailing in thick fog. The lookout shouted, “Light ahead, on the starboard bow!” The captain asked, “Is it steady or moving away?” The lookout replied, “Steady, Captain.” They were on a collision course. The captain ordered, “Signal the ship: Change course 20 degrees.” The reply came back, “Advise you change course 20 degrees.” The captain, irritated, responded, “I’m a captain. Change course 20 degrees!” The answer returned, “I’m a seaman second-class. You had better change course.” Furious, the captain sent, “I’m a battleship. Change course!” Then the reply: “I’m a lighthouse.” The captain changed course. Sometimes, we need to change course. Not tomorrow. Today.

 

Prepare the Way for the Lord!

Today marks the first Sunday of Advent. Advent means “coming.” Many churches set aside these four weeks to prepare for the coming of Christ. For us, Advent is a very special season of preparation and anticipation, not only for Christ’s birth, but also for His second coming. 

If you lived in John the Baptist’s time, and a king were about to pass through your town, how would you prepare? You would likely fill every pothole, clear away obstacles, and smooth out crooked roads before the king’s arrival. Likewise, if Christ were coming today, how would you prepare? Would you remove the clutter in your heart? Would you make peace with others? Would you seek forgiveness?

John the Baptist calls us to prepare for the coming of Christ. He says, “Prepare the way for the Lord; make his paths straight. Every valley will be filled, and every mountain and hill will be leveled, and the crooked will be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth.” (Luke 3:4-5) Here the kind of preparation John calls for is “repentance.” Repentance means changing direction – turning from sin and turning to God.

 

Repentance Is Now

True repentance is not something we postpone. It is urgent. John the Baptist boldly preached a centuries-old message, “repentance”: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near.” (Matthew 3:2) People could easily have said, "I've heard this before" or "I'll quit sinning tomorrow." But John said, “The ax is already at the root of the trees. Therefore, every tree that doesn’t produce good fruit will be chopped down and tossed into the fire” (Luke 3:9-10). The tree may not know it; it is not even hurt yet; but it is about to be cut down. Here we could feel the sense of urgency. It’s an emergency situation, so John’s message is quite straightforward even harsh rather than indirect and tender.  

The other day I received a call from an agency asking me to visit an elderly man in hospice care struggling and seeking some spiritual guidance. He was depressed, lonely, and estranged from his family. He had suffered an accident in June. He was still recovering but not improving. Though he had two houses and a new car, they brought no comfort to him. He had three children (one son and two daughters), but their relationships were strained. He was bitter and hopeless. As we talked, I asked, “Are you at peace with God?” He hesitated and replied, “I think so… but I am not sure.” Sensing the urgency, I spoke directly. I said to him, “We are all sinners. We cannot save ourselves. We need a savior. Jesus is God’s way of salvation. Turn to him. Repent. Receive and believe in Jesus, and you will be saved.” I asked him three questions, “Do you renounce your old ways and repent of your sins?” He said, “I do.” “Do you believe in Jesus as your new Master and Savior?” He replied, “I do.” Then, I asked, “Will you let of earthly things and forgive your children?” He said, “I do.” Tears filled his eyes. Then he smiled. God’s peace filled his heart.

 

Repentance Is a Verb

True repentance is an action. It bears the fruit of obedience. The people asked John, “What should we do?” He answered, “Whoever has two shirts must share with the one who has none and whoever has food must do the same.” (Luke 3:11) Then tax collectors asked, “What should we do?” He replied, “Collect no more than you are authorized to collect.” (Luke 3:13) No extortion. No greed. Soldiers asked, “What about us? What should we do?” He answered, “Don’t cheat or harass anyone, and be satisfied with your pay.” (Luke 3:14)

Repentance requires honest self-examination and leads to visible change in our lives. Recently, I saw one of my pastor friends featured on the cover of a local magazine, titled, “A True Shepherd.” When I saw the cover, I felt ambivalent. At first, I was happy for him, because indeed he was a great person. But at the same time, I felt skeptical, because he doesn’t believe in the resurrection of Jesus; instead, he teaches that Christ’s resurrection is symbolic, and we can attain a similar state through meditation and gook works. All day, I pondered, “What is a true shepherd?” In Ezekiel 34 God rebukes Israel’s self-serving shepherds, and says, “I myself will be their shepherd. I will seek out the lost, bring back the strays, bind up the wounded, and strengthen the weak.” (34:11, 16) In John 10 Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep… I know my own and my own know me.” (John 10:11, 14) Then I realized that I, too, fall shorts of being a true shepherd. I repented and resolved to change course.

 

Repentance Is All of Life

As we begin our Advent journey, the most important preparation is “repentance” – to see where we are right now and change the course. Repentance is not just feeling or saying sorry; it’s a way of life. It’s not a one-time event but a continuous part of our Christian life. In his 95 Theses, Martin Luther’s first thesis writes this way: 

“When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent’ (Matthew 4:17), he willed that the entire life of believers be one of repentance.”

Repentance is a lifelong practice. Every single day, we turn away from sin and turn back to God. We repent of our sins and rejoice in God day by day. When Martin Luther struggled with doubt or temptation, he would look into the mirror and say to himself, “Martin Luther, you are baptized. Don’t forget.” Baptism is once for life, but we need to remember our baptism every day. In baptism, our old self dies with Christ, and our new self rises with Christ. In baptism, we repent of our sins and receive Christ as our Lord and Savior. Let us remember our baptism, and be thankful. Let us repent – change course now – and times of refreshing will come as God promises. Let us pray… 

Lord, I renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness, 

         reject the evil powers of this world,

         and repent of my sins.

I confess Jesus Christ, as my Savior,

         put my whole trust in his grace, 

         and promise to serve him as my Lord,

              in union with the church

              which Christ has opened to people

              of all ages, nations, and races. Amen.