Working For The Weekend

Dear Faith Family,    

"Work six days, doing everything you have to do, but the seventh day is a Sabbath, a Rest Day—no work..."
(Deuteronomy 5:13-14)

Everybody's working for the weekend. I bet you cannot read that sentence again without singing it, even if you are not a child of the '80's or know any of the other words to the song! Leave it to Canadian rock to provide the anthem for multiple generations of adulting: "Everybody's working for the weekend." 

Stuck in the drudgery of the never-ceasing treadmill of work as a means to an end, an end that has, sadly, become increasingly less clear and distant, the weekend at least provides some thing, some place to arrive, even if we cannot stay long. The irony, of course, is that we are actually made to work into the week's end, into "rest" with God in what is finished. Thankfully for us, the end of our week is also its beginning, a day of receiving the peace and wholeness of life with God as we go into making life good with God.

This rhythm of going somewhere because of where we always are, is different from the treadmill we've become all too familiar with. And the difference is the week's end to which we work. A day, as we were reminded on Sunday, gifted to us at the beginning (Gen. 2:2-3), commanded as fundamental to being fully human (Ex. 20:8-11), and proclaimed as an act of defiant freedom in our life of promise (Deut. 5:12-15). 

Like work, we Sabbath not to get something, but because we have been given something. Remember what Jesus said,

"The Sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity for the Sabbath."

(Mark 2:27)

To Sabbath is to be free, is indeed the free choice of grace. So, keep working for the weekend! Here is how I encourage you to join me in doing so this week. 

1. (Re)Listen to Sunday's Sermon. 
2. Consider: Why do I resist God's rest, rather than resting as resistance?
3. Attend: Check out the Sabbath resources made for us by clicking here. 

May we find our end this weekend, and in the days that get us there. 

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

How We Begin Getting Out of Work

Dear Faith Family,   

 

Whatever you do, work from the soul, as for the Lord and not for humanity…"
(Colossians 3:23)

What would it take to follow the apostle Paul's exhortation to "work from the soul"? To work from the core of who you are, what makes you uniquely you in the image of your Maker? Well, as we discussed on Sunday, it takes several things. 

First, we'd have to recognize the truth of our relationship to work. While we are often guilty of trying to get out of work, or using work to get something else we want, the truth in our story's beginnings is that work is not a curse to avoid nor an obstacle to overcome, but the good in which we are made. Work has its pains, but it is not because work is cursed, but rather the "intentions of the thoughts of the hearts" of the workers, like us, are twisted. Still, according to the story, our off-the-mark nature is bound within the grace of God's persistent-as-the-sunrise-and-seasons promise, his covenant to preserve life good in partnership with us. 

What was true at the beginning is being renewed in Jesus, and once we recognize that reality, we can embrace a fuller understanding of work. Work, according to the story, is everything we do in partnership with God to bless others for the flourishing of the world, everything we do to make life good. That's why Dorothy Sayers can describe, 

"work… should be looked upon—not as a necessary drudgery to be undergone for the purpose of making money, but as a way of life in which the nature of man should find its proper exercise and delight and so fulfill itself to the glory of God... For a man's work is the measure of man's life, and a man's satisfaction is found in the fulfillment of his own nature…."

Once we recognize the extraordinary grace that enables us to make life good, and understand that everything we do, in word or deed, to make good life for others is the good work for which we experience our good, then the question becomes: how? How do we live into this (re)new(ed) life in Christ? Well, the apostle Paul helps us there, too: 

"If then you have been raised with Christ... renewed in knowledge after the image of [our] creator... put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. (Colossians 3:1,10, 14)

The original language suggests not that we put on love in some general sense, but rather, that we put on the love which brings all of life into "perfect harmony" with the (re)created order and intent of its Creator. Only when we dress ourselves in the Love from which we exist and persist as preparation to enter the labors of another day, can we love the specifics of the work for which we are uniquely fashioned and providentially placed—loving work, not for what we accomplish through it, but for its essential goodness and ours. \

This is how we begin to work from the soul: recognizing the grace of our story's beginning and its renewal in Christ so that we might more fully understand what our good, the good is, which is our participation in blessing that leads to flourishing bound by Love. Such recognition is a beginning, but not all there is to the story. Still, it is where we must begin if we are going to stop trying to get out of work and (re)discover what we are meant to be Get(ting) Out of Work. So, let's begin by... 

1. (Re)Listen to Sunday's Sermon. 

2. Consider: What am I missing in our love(lessness) of work? 

3. Attend: Where have I witnessed love at work, been the recipient of someone working from their soul? 

May the loveliness of the LORD rest upon us, confirming the work that we do. 

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

Get(ting) Out of Work

Dear Faith Family,   

 

"And whatever you do
[everything done to make or construct your life: i.e., work],
in word or deed,
do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus
[in loyalty and in the way of Jesus],
giving thanks to God the Father through him
[acknowledging God's grace works well through Jesus]."
(Colossians 3:17)

Where do we go after Easter? After the long pilgrimage of the Lenten season has led us through the depths of our own brokenness and Christ's on our behalf. After we have remembered the weight which Jesus carried for us and witnessed the wonder of His shedding of it for us, too. Where do we go when the new day has dawned, and the celebration is over? Well, like true pilgrims, we return home, to the ordinary rhythms of living, to the relationships of work and play, prayer and rest. 

Over the years, our faith family has used this time after Easter to help one another re-enter that whole and holy rhythm of Sabbathing into work and working into Sabbath, which life resurrected makes both possible and compelling. As the image above reminds us, we have developed a range of practices and resources to support our re-tuning. 

At the heart of the matter, we believe that we are made, re-made even, to participate in the fullness of our days on earth by resting with God in His finished work, and joining with God in His continued work. Sabbath and Work, rest and responsibility in relationship, are what make life. 

Still, as straight as the path at home may be, we have had to acknowledge our struggles in keeping step. Restless hearts are, after all, notoriously elusive, evading capture and quieting. And so, Sabbath remains foreign or feigned. Yet rest is subjective, and a holy day antiquated, so no need to lose sleep over figuring out the opening chord of creation's melody. But work, work is a different story. 

Work does bring sleepless nights, along with the anxiety from its burden. Work, at least in our modern perspective, is an obstacle (even if a necessary one) keeping us from a good life. Either it is something we get through to get to what we want, or something we avoid to do what we want. However you look at it, we are caught trying to get out of work. Why is that? 

If we are made to work and believe that working is fundamentally good, then why do we want to get out of work? Better yet, if we are made to work, if work is fundamentally good, what should we be getting out of work? 

Those are the questions we'll be attempting to answer as we return to the ordinary rhythms of life after our journey of Bright Sadness. And, as we discovered on Sunday, it seems our generation is not the first to desire relief from our labors, nor the first to recognize that life in rhythm begins and ends with thankfulness... acknowledging that the grace of God works well.

So, as our pilgrimage makes the (re)turn home, I invite you to join me in considering and attending to where we go after Easter. Here is how: 

1. (Re)Listen to Sunday's Sermon. 
2. Consider: In what ways do I try to get out of work? 
3. Attend: Where have I recognized God's grace working well in my work? 

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

From This Day Into The Days

Dear Faith Family,    

"Save us, we pray, O LORD!
O LORD, we pray, give us success!
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the LORD!"  
(Psalm 118:25-26)

Today is the midpoint of Holy Week, that final stretch of the pilgrimage of Bright Sadness that we started six weeks ago today. Along the journey, we have told the story of sin as our story, a story of moving away from God, not by feet or across great distances, but spirited by disorder lust, springing from a twisted will. And while we can not escape this story, we also cannot tell our story truthfully without telling the intertwining story of redemption. 

To be human is to be created from love with purpose and potential, only to fall away from both by our own willful entanglement with the deceiver, and, simultaneously, to be persistently and providentially pursued, drawn back to the "good" and "very good" of our beginnings, to life with God, by none other than God himself. And so, we have learned to say, 

"But since you are not ruthless in searching out our faults, we trustingly hope for a place in your house... If only humans would acknowledge being human, and anyone minded to boast would boast in the Lord!" (St. Augustine)

Boasting in the Lord, is where the final week of the Lenten season began. O Sunday, like those in Jerusalem nearly two thousand years ago, we joined in singing Psalm 118 as we see Jesus approaching the means by which he unites our story with His.

"The next day, the large crowd that had come to the [Passover] feast heard Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying out, 'Hosanna! [Save, we pray!] Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel!'

And Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it, just as it was written [in Zechariah 9:9] 'Fear not, daughter of Zion: behold, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey's colt!' Jesus' disciples did not understand these things at first, but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written about him and had been done to him.

The crowd that had been with Jesus when he called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to bear witness. The reason why the crowd went to meet him was that they heard he had done this sign."
(John 12:12-18)

Perhaps anticipating another sign, a glimpse of God's power to restore the good and very good within humanity and the world, the crowd goes out to meet the one who has come to save, follows him through the streets of the city of God, and, as the other three gospels testify, to the temple itself, the place where we meet and are made right with God. Here, as Mark tells us, Jesus entered.
 

"And when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve." (Mark 11:11)

 
 
So much for another sign, whether the end of the oppression by the Roman overlords, or the restoration of God's glory upon the temple, or the easing of labor, or the abundance of land and life, or the end of evil. Whatever was expected or anticipated did not arrive with Jesus in Jerusalem that day. Yet, what was needed and necessary—what would ultimately, fully, and forever change the course of history and the human story—did arrive with the humble King upon a long-promised donkey, to do not what was expected but what was promised and what was effective for our salvation. 
 
Unlike the people and disciples on this day nearly two thousand years ago, we do not need to shout "Save, we pray," "Hosanna!" in ignorance or veiled hope. We have seen Jesus glorified on the cross and risen from the tomb. Therefore, we "add [our] own 'hosannas' to the festive shouts and implicit prayers" of those who have looked to Jesus' arrival to save us not from what we think, want, or will, but from what truly binds us, and doing so for all time.
 
 So, today, in the middle of the final days of our yearly pilgrimage, let us join our voices in prayer, proclaiming what we see in Jesus because of what he walked through in the days we are about to remember. 

TODAY

• Prayerfully and slowly, and with eyes wide open to all that Jesus is and has done, pray these words: 

This is the day that you have made, O Lord; we will rejoice and be glad in it. We will give thanks to you, for you are good; your steadfast love endures forever!

Hosanna! Save me, O Lord! I thank you that you have answered me and have become my salvation. You are my God and I give you thanks; you are my God and I sing your praise.
 
Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord—the righteous King of kings, the ruler of all the earth. Hosanna... Save We Pray… in the highest!
 
Hosana! Save We Pray! Blessed are you, our leader! Our high priest! Our holy sacrifice! Our Savior!
Hosanna… Save We Pray… in the highest!

MAUNDY THURSDAY

• Join us for dinner @ 6 pm as we remember Jesus' final meal with his disciples and friends. Then, stay afterwards and spend some time with our friends ministering in Southeast Asia, the Fairs! Full details here. 

GOOD FRIDAY

• Join the Church as we reflect on the cross of Jesus. We encourage you to do so either...

@ noon with St. Barts 
or 
@ 7 pm with LHBC 

HOLY SATURDAY

• Spend ten minutes asking and letting God do what Psalm 139:23-24 encourages: 

"Search me, O God, and know my heart! 
Examine me, and know my disquieted thoughts! 
See if there be any grievous way in my living,
And lead me in the way ancient and everlasting!"

EASTER SUNDAY

• Join us as we celebrate Christ Jesus risen @ 10 am! 

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

The Role You're (re)Born To Play

Dear Faith Family,   

 

"If only humans would acknowledge being human, and anyone minded to boast would boast in the Lord!" 
(St. Augustine)

We have said that The Story of Sin is the story of humanity. A story that describes not only our plight but also our hope. After all, we cannot tell the story of sin without telling the story of redemption—a story of God's certain promise to reclaim and restore what has always been his. 

To be human, at least as the story goes, is to be created from love with purpose and potential, only to fall away from both by our own willful entanglement with the deceiver. And yet, to simultaneously be persistently and providentially pursued, drawn back to the "good" and "very good" of our beginnings, to life with God, by none other than God himself.

To be human, as our previous leg of the Lenten pilgrimage compels us to consider, is to find ourselves "estranged" from our true selves in relation to God, "in a spirit of lust, and lost in its [lust's] darkness," yes. We cannot deny it, nor escape it. And yet, as we were reminded on Sunday, to be human is also to be loved by God with a self-giving, non-contingent, and relationship-altering love: 

"In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." (1 John 4:10)

No wonder Augustine can so emphatically implore us to "acknowledge being human, and...boast in the Lord!" An acknowledgement and boast that Peter says compels a particular response: 

"His [Jesus our Lord] divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and virtue, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire. For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith..." (2 Peter 1:3-5) 

Peter says that the story of humanity, the story of sin and redemption, is a story that invites our participation. We cannot play the hero, nor the reliever of our own plight (as Genesis 6-11 reminds us), but we do have a role, not only in the story of sin but also in the story of salvation. 

Peter's word, which in English we translate as 'supplement', comes from the Greek epixorēgéō, which is a combination of two words. The word epí, which means "appropriately on," and intensifies the second word, xorēgeō, which means to "richly supply everything needed for an ancient chorus to be a grand production." To supplement is to lavishly supply what is suitable to bring to full effect the depth and beauty of the grand drama unfolding on the stage.

When it comes to our role in The Story, Peter contends that we are the chorus. In the ancient world, the chorus was a collective whose actions and efforts on stage highlighted the main actor, gave context to the scenes, and served as a bridge for the audience, helping them find their story in the unfolding story before them. So, Peter says, make every effort to play your role appropriately and well. Give your whole soul to help make this drama of sin and salvation "a grand production." He then describes the relational habits suited to our role in this story. 

But before we get there, let's stop and reflect on this role in light of the Lenten journey. Here is how you and I can do so today, and the remainder of the week: 

TODAY

• Prayerfully and slowly, and with truth that you have a role to play in the drama of salvation for yourself and others, read Isaiah 58:1-12, letting the exhortation of the LORD wrestle with your soul. 

THURSDAY

• (re)Listen to the sermon with your Bible open to 2 Peter 1:1-13, and consider:

Do the "supplements" of my faith look like those Peter describes?
&

Who and how can I love rightly this week?

FRIDAY

• Prayerfully, slowly, and with Augustine's exhortation to acknowledge your humanity atop of mind, read Matthew 25:14-46, letting the parable & proverb of JESUS sink into your soul. 

SATURDAY

• Spend ten minutes asking and letting God do what Psalm 139:23-24 encourages: 

"Search me, O God, and know my heart! 
Examine me, and know my disquieted thoughts! 
See if there be any grievous way in my living,
And lead me in the way ancient and everlasting!"

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

Entangled...Again?

Dear Faith Family,   

 

"... those who indulge in the lust of defiling passions and despise authority...entice unsteady souls…’” (2 Peter 2:10-14)

In The Story of Sin, we have discovered that discontent and progressively decaying, humanity’s terminus is destruction; that is, unless God deals both justly with evil and mercifully with the evil doer. Unless God chooses not merely to spare the source and perpetuator of evil, but to remake them. It is God's intention of remaking--not destroying and starting over, but bringing back from the dead what was lost when sin separated--that is at the heart of covenant. 

Covenant. The establishment of a relationship between two partners who make binding promises to each other and work together to reach a common goal. Covenant, God's means of humanity becoming, again, who and what we are made to be. A regulating relationship that ensures restoration, an unbreaking, a rebirth. 

Covenant. The relational reality we recognize and rest within every time we gather around the table to receive the body of Jesus given for us, his cup poured out for us, which is "the new covenant in [his] blood" (Luke 22:20). If we spend our days making a life within this restorative, relational realty of life with God, then why do we still struggle, not just to be human in a corrupted existence, but to be a new kind of human in a covenantal existence?

Not, why do “they” struggle, whomever “they” are to you. But rather, how are we “who are recently escaping from those who live in wander,” who “have escaped the pollution of the world through the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ," how are we "again entangled in them and overcome”? 

Peter, who was one of those with Jesus at the first communion table, gives us a clue as to why the story of sin is still our story, even for those whose iniquities are forgiven and sins remembered no more (Jer. 31:31-34). In 2 Peter 2, Peter is warning his fellow faithful that the same entanglers of Genesis 6, those led by a "lust of defiling passion," entice "unsteady souls," by the same means which led to their own corruption: 

"Arrogant, for speaking words of vanity, they entice with the passions of the flesh to sensuality those recently escaping from those in error living. They promise them freedom, but they themselves are slaves to corruption."
(2 Peter 2:18-19)

With lies and false promises, they entice us with the "passions of the flesh," or "lustful desires." What makes our soul unsteady, able to be moved from life with God? Well, says St. Augustine, echoing Peter the apostle, 

"Not with our feet or by traversing great distances do we journey away from you or find our way back... No, to be estranged in a spirit of lust, and lost in its [lust’s] darkness, that is what it means to be far away from your face."

Lust is a word we associate primarily with improper sexual desires. Such cravings are indeed the most base or carnal manifestations of impropriety, but the idea of lust is not limited to these. Behind the word both Peter and Augustine use to describe the force that "spirits," or carries, us away from God is something like "miswanting" or disordered love. 

To want or love something wrongly, not just a wrong thing, is to lust after it. To love or want something (or someone) for what it is not, or cannot be, is to lust after it. To want or love someone (or something) selfishly, without consideration of their true good, is to lust after them. To love or want something to satisfy what it was not created to satisfy, is to lust after it. 

Certainly, we can, and do, want and love the wrong things. Yet, argues our faith for the past two thousand years, what often gets us entangled again in corruption is lust: loving things and persons wrongly. And it is this disordered love that we call lust, which we have to deal with on this leg of the Lenten journey. 

Here is how you and I can steady our souls today, and the remainder of the week: 

TODAY

• Prayerfully and slowly, and with the idea of lust being loving things and people wrongly atop of mind, read Isaiah 58:1-12, letting the exhortation of the LORD wrestle with your soul. 

THURSDAY

• (re)Listen to the sermon with your Bible open to 2 Peter 2, and consider:

For what do I lust...love disorderly?
&

Where have I recognized God's just mercy in my dissatisfaction?

FRIDAY

• Prayerfully, slowly, and with Augustine's experienced explanation of God's just mercy* atop your mind, read Matthew 25:14-46, letting the parable & proverb of JESUS sink into your soul. 

*"You were ever present to me, mercifully angry, sprinkling very bitter disappointments over all my unlawful pleasures (lusts, or dissordered loves) so that I might seek pleasure free from all disappointment." 

SATURDAY

• Spend ten minutes asking and letting God do what Psalm 139:23-24 encourages: 

"Search me, O God, and know my heart! 
Examine me, and know my disquieted thoughts! 
See if there be any grievous way in my living,
And lead me in the way ancient and everlasting!"

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

The End of the Story... Unless?

Dear Faith Family,   

 

"And God said to Noah, ‘The end of all flesh has come before me, for the earth is filled with violence through them. Behold, I will destroy them with the earth… But I will establish my covenant with you…’” (Genesis 6:13,18)

Through the season of Lent, we are sharing The Story of Sin because, in doing so, we are also telling the story of humanity. A story that reveals both our struggles and our hope in being and becoming who we are made to be. For we cannot discuss sin—life off-course, ways of living that lead not to goodness but to destruction, without also telling the story of salvation.

Our stories are inseparable from the story of sin, and they are equally connected to God’s response and redemption. After all, as our final kingdom epiphany and the proverb that followed revealed, it is in the midst of the shared struggle and persisting hope of living where God is most active, and where we participate in life full and forever. 

As the story of sin unfolds in the Genesis narrative, and as we discussed on Sunday, we seem to be moving further and further away from the good life we were made for. Still, there remains an expectant hope that our plight can be overcome, that indeed we can be rescued from ourselves. Yet, the truth of the matter is that life-off-the-mark is unescapable, and utterly destructive: 

"The LORD saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually...and the earth was filled with violence. And God saw the earth, and behold, it was corrupt (decaying), for all flesh had corrupted their way on the earth." (Genesis 6:5,11-12)

Discontent and decaying, our terminus is destruction. At least if left to ourselves. At least unless a new way of relating is introduced. A way of partnering with God that will lead not to our mere rescue but our being reborn, made into a new people, blessed to bless all people. 

Amid our utter decay, at our most dehumanized and most desperate point in our plight, God does something new: He covenants with us. 

‘The end of all flesh has come before me, for the earth is filled with violence through them. Behold, I will destroy them with the earth… But I will establish my covenant with you…’” (Genesis 6:13,18)

Covenant, the establishment of a relationship between two partners who make binding promises to each other and work together to reach a common goal. From here in Genesis 6 to the last supper when Jesus raised the wine and said, "This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood," (Luke 22:20); God's covenanting becomes the means of humanity becoming, again, who and what we are made to be. A regulating relationship that ensures restoration. 

While this is where God's covenant will lead, the story of sin in Genesis exhorts us to consider not only God's means of remaking, but our unescapable propensity for decay. In the story of sin and redemption, we are to hold both in tension as we ask the question of the Lenten season: In the light of the Kingdom, are there any ways in which we are still walking in the darkness? 

Here is how you and I can walk in the light of our struggle and our hope today, and the remainder of the week: 

TODAY

• Prayerfully and slowly, and with the inescapability of our corruption on your mind, read Isaiah 58:1-12, letting the exhortation of the LORD sink into your heart and mind. 

THURSDAY

• (re)Listen to the sermon with your Bible open to Genesis 6, and consider:

In what ways do I hope for rescue, not rebirth? 
&

Where have I recognized God's patient mercy in my maturation? 

FRIDAY

• Prayerfully, slowly, and with the concept of "covenant" as God's gracious means of maturation atop your mind, read Matthew 25:14-46, letting the parable & proverb of JESUS sink into your soul. 

SATURDAY

• Spend ten minutes asking and letting God do what Psalm 139:23-24 encourages: 

"Search me, O God, and know my heart! 
Examine me, and know my disquieted thoughts! 
See if there be any grievous way in my living,
And lead me in the way ancient and everlasting!"

Love you faith family. God bless. 

A Newish Oldest Sin!

Dear Faith Family,   

 

"We should not be like Cain who was of the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Becasue his own deeds were evil and his brother's righteous." (1 John 3:12)

The spiritual season of Lent, like the physical seasons it bridges, arrives every year whether we like it or not. And, if we are honest, most of us would not consider this our favorite season. After all, in Lent, we are challenged to ask questions that can make us a bit uncomfortable with ourselves. Questions about how we are living in the light of the Kingdom, and if there are any areas where we are still walking in the darkness. 

The prolonged journey of Lent seems to all but require us to take an honest look at ourselves and our lives with God. In this way, Lent, by the sheer power of calendaring, forces us to be aware of the struggle to be and become human, truly. A struggle: when we are not busy trying to overcome it, we often medicate or distract ourselves from thinking about it. Good thing for us, as our final kingdom epiphany and the proverb that followed revealed, it is in the midst of this shared struggle where God is most active. 

But why? Why is the struggle of being human where God is active? Well, to answer that question, we have to tell The Story of Sin. A story in which your story and mine, all of humanity's story, really, is intertwined. A story that takes us out of an immortal life (Genesis 3) and into the taking of a life (Genesis 4). And while, rightly so, the murder gets the majority of the attention, it is the motive for the murder that we are exhorted to consider on this stretch of pilgrimage. 

As we discussed on Sunday, what made Cain "of the evil one," as John would later write, was not what he offered to God (or didn't) but his off-the-mark knowledge of God and himself that he shared with the evil one in Genesis 3. A twisted understanding that feels a lot like envy. 

"...envy," argues the Cappadocian Father, Gregory of Nyssa, "became the way to all evils that have shown up after it." Envy, while often associated with jealousy, is rather a discontentment or restless longing with what we have and who we are. We are envious when we misperceive the goodness or graciousness of our situation and person because we compare it with another's. 

In the story of our beginnings, we notice that something in both the serpent and Cain lacked a right(eous) understanding of God's goodness, and so their inherent goodness as beings fashioned by God. They desired something different, something more or other, something that they saw in another. And so, they willfully set out to take it, or at least keep the other from keeping it. 

Think about that for a moment. Discontentment is the source of sinful--missing the mark--actions. For, as Gregory argues and the story of Genesis 4 describes, when we are envious, we do not "will to perceive the good," but instead "perceive the opposite of good," missing God's grace in what we have and who we are, as well as making an enemy or obstacle out of both God and brother. 

In a day and age where discontentment is the main marketing strategy for products, politics, and the like, perhaps it would be wise of us to consider the motivation within our story's start, as well as God's response. Here is how you and I can do so today, and the remainder of the week: 

TODAY

• Prayerfully and slowly, and with the concept of "envy" as a fountain for all other vices atop your mind, read Isaiah 58:1-12, letting the exhortation of the LORD sink into your heart and mind. 

THURSDAY

• (re)Listen to the sermon with your Bible open to Genesis 4, and consider:

In what ways do I make little of grace by not grieving sin (my own and others)? 
&

Where have I recognized God's encouragement to resist envy and sustaining mercy when I failed to do so? 

FRIDAY

• Prayerfully, slowly, and with the concept of "discontentment" as a fountain for all other vices atop your mind, read Matthew 25:14-46, letting the parable & proverb of JESUS sink into your soul. 

SATURDAY

• Spend ten minutes asking and letting God do what Psalm 139:23-24 encourages: 

"Search me, O God, and know my heart! 
Examine me, and know my disquieted thoughts! 
See if there be any grievous way in my living,
And lead me in the way ancient and everlasting!"

Love you faith family. God bless. 

An All Too Familiar Story

Dear Faith Family,   

 

"Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?
Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness shall go before you;
the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard."
(Isaiah 58:6-8)

We are officially in the season of Lent. A cycle in the Church calendar where we intentionally consider how we are living in the light of the Kingdom, and if there are any areas where we are still walking in the darkness. 

To aid in the sobriety and mindfulness of this season, many traditions, especially in the Western Church, prescribe regular fasting and/or prolonged abstinence from things necessary to pleasurable to addictive. While there is much good in this seasonal practice, I wonder if it might be more helpful for our souls and neighbors if we fasted more like God called His people to fast in Isaiah's day?

After all, as our final kingdom epiphany and the proverb that followed, prepares us to see, life with God in the light of the Kingdom is about partnering with God, participating with His presence and purpose in others' lives, especially during those moments when they struggle to be and become human. In the vulnerabilities and limitations of making a good life, living a life that is full and forever; that is where God is, where his Kingdom is coming, and where we are expected to be. 

But why? Why is this where God is in the human story? Well, to answer that question, we have to tell another story, The Story of Sin. A story in which your story and mine, all of humanity's story, really, is intertwined. A story that we began telling on Sunday. 

Whether you were able to gather with us or not, I invite you to join me on this week's stretch of the Lenten pilgrimage. Here is how you can do today, and the remainder of the week: 

TODAY

• Prayerfully and slowly read Isaiah 58:1-12, letting the exhortation of the LORD sink into your heart and mind. 

THURSDAY

• (re)Listen to the sermon with your Bible open to Genesis 1-3, and consider:

In what ways am I trading participation for power?
&

Where have I recognized God's gracious covering of my shame?

FRIDAY

• Prayerfully and slowly read Matthew 25:14-46, letting the parable & proverb of JESUS sink into your heart and mind. 

SATURDAY

• Spend ten minutes asking and letting God do what Psalm 139:23-24 encourages: 

"Search me, O God, and know my heart! 
Examine me, and know my disquieted thoughts! 
See if there be any grievous way in my living,
And lead me in the way ancient and everlasting!"

Love you faith family. God bless. 

Dust to Dust

Dear Faith Family,   

 

"Truly, truly I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit."
(John 12:24)

For much of the global Church, today marks the beginning of Lent. A season in which we fall with Jesus into death and rise with Jesus into life again and new. 

The first day of this journey, known in Orthodox tradition as "bright sadness," is Ash Wednesday. On this day, many traditions within the Western Church gather to consecrate themselves for the road ahead and for Lenten Rhythms by having ashes imposed on their foreheads. The ashes remind us that we have our origin in dust, and from dust, we will return to a full and forever life by the absurd and gracious gift of Jesus' life. Ashes may be our end, but they are not the end. 

While it is not our faith family's tradition to impose ashes, it is our tradition to join with the saints around the world on this day, praying the "Litany of Penitence" as our first steps toward the death of all that must end and the rebirth of abundant life. So, let us begin our Lenten journey by sharing our need for God's grace and receiving grace upon grace in Jesus on this unique day as The Church. 

Pray with and as the Church:

Most holy and merciful Father:
We confess to you and to one another, 
and to the whole communion of saints in heaven and on earth, 
that we have sinned by our own fault 
in thought, word, and deed; 
by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. 

We have not loved you with our whole heart, nor mind, nor strength. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We have not forgiven others, as we have been forgiven. 
Have mercy on us, gracious Father. 

We have been deaf to your call to serve, as Jesus served us.
We have not been true to the mind of Christ.
We have grieved your Holy Spirit. 
Have mercy on us, compassionate Father. 

We confess to you, Father, all our past unfaithfulness:
the pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives. 
We confess to you, humble Father. 

Our self-indulgent appetites and ways,
and our exploitation of other people, 
We confess to you, self-giving Father. 

Our anger at our own frustration,
and our envy of those more fortunate than ourselves, 
We confess to you, generous Father. 

Our intemperate love of worldly goods and comforts,
and our dishonesty in daily life and work, 
We confess to you, just Father. 

Our negligence in prayer and worship,
and our failure to commend the faith that is in us, 
We confess to you, patient Father. 

We turn to you, Father, and away from the wrongs we have done: acknowledging our blindness to human need and suffering,
and our indifference to injustice and cruelty, 
We hold fast to you, always-present Father. 

Acknowledging false judgments, uncharitable thoughts toward our neighbors, and prejudice and contempt toward those who are different from us, 
We turn to you, ever-chasing Father. 

Acknowledging our waste and pollution of your creation,
and our lack of concern for those who come after us, 
We hold fast to you, never-changing Father.

Restore us, good Father, and let your anger depart from us; 
Favorably hear us, for your mercy is great. 

Bring to maturity the fruit of your salvation, 
That we may show forth your glory in the world. 

By the cross and passion of your Son our King and Friend, 
Bring us with all your saints into
the complete joy of his resurrection. 

Amen. 

Love you faith family. God bless. 

Choose Glory

Dear Faith Family,   

"'Well done, good and faithful servant... Enter into the joy of your master."
(Matthew 25:21)

The words spoken by the master in Jesus' final parable before he, like the master, leaves the company of his disciples, are words we all long to hear. To know that our efforts of daily living have been done well and true, adding to the abundance of life of our master (and thus our community), is soul-satisfying.

Something deep within every human desires a life of plenty, yes, after all, plenty is the starting point for each of the servants in the story (Matthew 25:14-30), but also a life of purpose, where our place in the story matters, and we produce something good and lasting. This particular soul-level longing is not unique just to those who call Jesus Lord. 

Throughout recorded history, across every tribe, society, and civilization, people have striven to live a life for the approval of their god(s) or fellow humans. A life that was worthy of appreciation, a life that was, by some standard, good. And the word the ancients used to describe the affirmation of a life of plenty and purpose, a life lived well and true, was glory. 

Now, we know as Christians that we are supposed to seek the glory of God, and that is exactly what this parable promises those who put to use what has been precisely given to them on behalf of their benefactor. For, as C.S. Lewis discovered, our faith has long taken,

"heavenly glory quite frankly in the sense of fame or good report. But not fame conferred by our fellow creatures--fame with God, approval or (I might say) 'appreciation' by God. And then, when I had thought it over, I saw that this view was scriptural; nothing can eliminate from the parable the divine accolade, 'Well done, thou good and faithful servant.'... For glory meant good report with God, acceptance by God, response, acknowledgment, and welcome into the heart of things. The door on which we have been knocking all our lives will open at last."  

This "fame," or "approval" that our souls crave and which we long to enter, is not the product of our autonomous efforts, but instead, as the parable reveals and Dylan described for us on Sunday, the fruit of partnership: the servant's abilities and the master's livelihood (or "talents") coming together to bring more abundance into the land. A fruitfulness that this year's Kingdom Epiphanies have described and led us to expect as the natural order of life lived in the Kingdom of God. 

Yet, Lewis rightly concludes that this certainty of glory is a kind of "weight or burden, which our thoughts can hardly sustain." Perhaps that is why "the divine accolade" is extended to only two of the servants in Jesus' final story. Perhaps the thrid servant could hardly imagine that they'd be able survive the settling of accounts not merely as cog in the machine of the master, but as, "...a real ingredient in the divine happiness [the joy of the master]...to be loved by God, not merely pitied, but delighted in as an artist delights in his work or a father in a son..."

After all, that is the real difference between the first two servants and the last: who they understood their master to be (his character) in relation to them. And so, the third servant, out of misguided presumptions of life in the master's charge, chose to set aside partnership and just do what he could do on his own, which was probably quite a bit. Remember, the master did recognize his ability and entrusted the servant with his talents (25:15).

However, it seems that the third servant missed the ancient understanding of the rewards of glory, of the efforts for a good life: "The proper rewards are not simply tacked on to the activity for which they are given, but are the activity itself in consumation." The story begins with partnership; partnership is the glory and brings us into joy. 

I wonder, what will you and I choose today? I am praying that we will choose glory, as incredible and weighty as it might seem.

Love you faith family. God bless. 

Purposed Grace

Dear Faith Family,   

"He gives snow like wool; he scatters frost like ashes. He hurls down his crystals of ice like crumbs; who can stand before his cold?"
(Psalm 147:16-17)

I hope you have enjoyed your snow week! Seriously, I hope this forced stop, this out-of-our-control slow down, has afforded your soul the joy of submitting to something greater than you. After all, as the psalmist says, "who can stand before his cold?"

Interestingly, Psalm 147 is all about God's providential grace amid the seemingly uncontrollable and unfortunate circumstances in the life of His people. God, the maker of the universe, is the champion of those beaten down by life (v. 1-6) who sustains our daily experience of life with unchanging love (v. 7-11), and through His active word, embedded in the world of His people, brings life into peace (shalom, wholeness) through the inevitable seasons: 

"Praise the LORD, O Jerusalem! Praise your God, O Zion! 
For he strengthens the bars of your gates; he blesses your children within you. 
He makes peace in your borders; he fills you with the finest of the wheat. 
He sends out his command to the earth; his word runs swiftly. 
He gives snow like wool; he scatters frost like ashes. 
He hurls down his crystals of ice like crumbs; who can stand before his cold? 
He sends out his word, and melts them;
he makes his wind blow and the waters flow. 
He declares his word to Jacob, his statutes and just decrees to Israel. 
He has not dealt thus with any other nation; they do not know his just decrees. Praise the LORD!" 
(Psalm 147:12-20)

Weeks like this, when we are acutely aware of what little is in our control, are reminders of Who is, and how. They give us the opportunity to experience the joy and fruit of submitting to the Word deeply rooted in our daily lives, just as our Kingdom Ephanies have revealed. 

So, enjoy the weather, my friends. It is a purposed grace!

Love you faith family. God bless. 

Into A New Year And A New Season

Dear Faith Family,   

"This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the appearing [the epiphany] of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel." (2 Timothy 1:9-10)

Yesterday marked the beginning of a new season. And no, I don't mean Spring despite the unseasonably warm weather! No, yesterday marked the start of the season of Epiphany, or Epiphanytide. 

As we were reminded on Sunday, Epiphany is the third season in "The Cycle of Light," those dedicated days in which we eagerly anticipate Jesus' Arriving (i.e., Advent) and joyfully marvel at Jesus Arrived (i.e., Christmas). In Epiphany, the anticipation and joy give way to, well, the Way, the path forward illuminated because God is indeed with us and for us. 

In its earliest iterations, the season of Epiphany was marked by three familiar stories. First, the story of the "wise men," those seekers of truth who followed the light of the Christmas star to offer their worship at Wisdom revealed and embodied in a baby boy. Their story encourages you and me to join them in fully investing in seeking of truth and, even if what the light reveals is surprising, to nevertheless respond in worshipful awe. 

The second is the story of that same boy all grown up, yet still doing what his mother wished, turning water into wine, revealing both the power and purpose of his Life, to restore what had been lost, and into something better than what was already enjoyed. It might be difficult to discern the reality-altering truth of God in the flesh of an infant or toddler, but a miracle worker? Perhaps we who are still learning to be wise will be more attentive to this revelation and trusting of what his light reveals. 

Last, but not least, the final story of Epiphany was the tale of Jesus' baptism. The son of a carpenter, the younger cousin of John the Baptizer, revealed as One whose life was from forever, the very Son of God, immersed in our flesh and yet drawing that same flesh into his life with God the Father and the Holy Spirit. From this story, our earliest faith family came to understand that to walk forward into each new morning fully illuminated because we are with God--immersed in the Love that is Father, Son, and Spirit--is the Way of Truth through which Life full and forever is experienced. Perhaps that is why, in the early church, "illumination" was another name for baptism, and why the Byzantine churches still refer to the ritual as "Holy Illumination" to this day. 

So, as we enter into the final season in The Cycle of Light, encouraged to be adamant and expectant seekers of truth, and more so, ones who live truly, let us consider Christ's baptism, his illumination, and ours. For, 

"...illumination is the fulfillment of desire for those who aim for the greatest things, or that which is greatest, or that which is beyond greatness. 

Christ is illuminated, let us flash like lightning with him. Christ is baptized, let us go down with him, that we may also come up again with him." (Gregory of Nazianzus) 

May we indeed "flash like lightning with him," and find the fullness of life now and forever. 

Love you faith family. God bless. 

From Anticipation to Gratitude!

Dear Faith Family,   

"Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign.
Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and shall call his name Immanuel (which means, 'God is with us')."
(Isaiah 7:13)

I hope your preparations for Christmas have been both worshipful and joyful! Especially now that we are just hours away from the first day of Christmas! That's right; tomorrow is just the start, the beginning of "counting up" the abundance of what our True Love gives. On Christmas day, we begin unwrapping all those gifts for which we spent the previous days "counting down" their arrival. Gifts that add up exponentially, from 1 to 78 in just twelve days! 

If you haven't picked up on my less-than-subtle clues, what I'm saying is that we've entered the "Twelve Days of Christmas." That's right, the twelve days start tomorrow, on Christmas Day! 

The process of connecting the feast of Christmas (December 25th) to the feast of Epiphany (January 6th) began in the fourth century. Eventually, all the days between the two special dates on the church calendar were "proclaimed sacred and festive." That means the celebration doesn't stop after the presents are opened and all the food is safely tucked away in our bellies! 

While culturally, in the words of Gabe Huck, "We take our Christmas with lots of sugar. And we take it in a day," the Church over the last fifteen-hundred-plus years has extended the holiday well into the New Year! Christmas really is the beginning of something new! 

So why not join in?! Why not keep your tree and decorations up a bit longer, until the end of the Twelve Days of Christmas, January 6th? Why not plan a couple more special activities with friends, family, and kids? Why not keep the Christmas carols ringing and Christmas prayers praying for a few more days? 

That last one, keeping the Christmas prayers praying, we can help you with! 

Starting tomorrow mid-morning, we'll share a poem to pray each of the Twelve Days of Christmas via text message and on the app or website under Collective Prayers; just like we did for the O Antiphons leading up to this day. 

In fact, you might recognize the poems. They are responses to our Advent O Antiphons. Now, rather than praying with longing for what we need, we pray with (for) the perfection of what we've received. 

May our wonder and gratitude grow exponentially as we take the time to behold the ever-expanding gift of Jesus Arrived again this Christmas, and are drawn into the marvelous mystery of God With Us! 

Love you, faith family! And looking forward to worshiping together in the New Year! Until then, God bless! 

A Special Time...

Dear Faith Family,   

"You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness,
that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent."
(Psalm 30:11-12a) 

It's hard to believe we are on the home stretch of Advent! Kids get out of school in just a day or two, then, before you know it, the morning that has garnered so much of our attention, efforts, and even anxiousness over the last month will finally be here! 

While much of life in this season seems too swift, it is even more true of the final sprint to Christmas morning. In every good story and song, the pace quickens, building to the crescendo, which is why I want to invite you to join me in an Advent practice we started a few years ago. A habit meant to help us do what we've been doing all month: slow down and consider Jesus Arrived, again, this Christmas. 

In the first centuries after Christ's resurrection, our faith forerunners developed a custom of praying seven great prayers to call afresh on Jesus to "come." These prayers are prayed without our customary designations for Christ; instead, they address Jesus by titles found in the Old Testament, especially in Isaiah: "O Wisdom!" "O Root of Jesse!" "O Emmanuel!" etc. They called these prayers the "O Antiphons," for they are sung as much as prayed. Seven brief songs call us into the crescendoing anticipation of our salvation, needed and provided in the advent of Jesus. 

The O Antiphones officially began tomorrow (the 17th), thus the special early email(!), and will continue through the 23rd. What makes this year special is that while we (per usual) post these brief hymns in the app and on the website under Collective Prayers, we will also be sending you a text message each day with the O Antiphon included. 

Beginning tomorrow morning around 9:00 AM, you will receive a text from 469-718-8770. This is our "Christ City #," so be sure to save this number in your phone. If you have any questions or concerns, or if you don't receive the text but would like to, please don't hesitate to let me know. 

May our souls slow down even as the days speed up, as we consider Jesus Arrived. 

Love you, faith family**. Happy Advent, Merry Christmas, and God bless!

The Why behind the What

Dear Faith Family,   

"Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel." (Isaiah 7:13)

Immanuel, sometimes spelled with "Emmanuel," is a common word this time of year. We hear it in songs, see it on signs, and find it written across cards. In Hebrew, this seasonally familiar word means "God is with us." In truth, this singular word is "the reason for the season"!

There is no Christmas if there is no Immanuel, if what Isaiah prophesied and the ancient creed confesses did not happen, "true God from true God...came down from heaven, was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary and became truly human." One little Hebrew word, Immanuel, sums up the wondrous, history-dividing moment we celebrate this time of year.

But why? Why did God become human?

We celebrate that it happened, "Man's Maker was made man," but why was it necessary? Why would "the infinite, incomprehensible, ineffable reality, transcending all glory and majesty" become something less, something like you and me? 

If a simple Hebrew word sums up what we celebrate at Christmas, a simple Greek word sums up why we celebrate Christmas: philanthropia. This one little Greek word means "self-giving love for humanity" and is the background for the same ancient creed's answer for why true God of true God became truly human: "For our sake and our salvation..." (The Nicene Creed). 

God's particular and self-abasing love for humanity, for you and for me, is why God is with us. There is no other explanation for God to condescend, for "He, Ruler of the stars...to nurse at His mother's breast...the Bread...hunger...the Foutain thrist, the Light sleep, the Way be tired on its journey...the Truh...be accused of false witness, the Teacher be beaten with whips, the Foundation be suspended on wood; that Strength...grow weak; that the Healer...be wounded...Life...die." (St. Augustine) Only love, a particular and self-giving love, could be powerful enough to compel such an action. 

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." (John 3:16) 

Gregory of Nyssa, one of the three "Cappadocian Fathers" from whom the Church owes much of its doctrine of the Trinity, gives context to the why behind the what of Christmas this way: 

"Sin, our nature demanded to be healed; fallen, to be raised up; dead, to rise again. We had lost the possession of the good; it was necessary for it to be given back to us. Closed in the darkness, it was necessary to bring us the light; captives, we awaited a Savior; prisoners, help; slaves, a liberator. Are these things minor or insignificant? Did they not move God to descend to human nature and visit it, since humanity was in so miserable and unhappy a state? 

If the love of humanity [philanthropia] is a proper mark of the divine nature, here, is the explanation you are looking for, here is the reason for God's presence among human beings…"

As we celebrate God with us this season, may the reason why God is with us lead us to humility and compel us to share what we have received. 

Love you, faith family**. God bless and Happy Advent! 

Fulfilled Prayer

Dear Faith Family,   

"Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace,
according to your word;" (Luke 2:29)

Nunc dimittis servum tuum, Domine, secundum verbum tuum, in pace. Those are the opening words of Simeon's prayer in Latin. A prayer that became known simply as the Nunc Dimittis and by the fourth century was a regular part of Christian liturgy because Simeon's prayer implies fulfillment, the arrival of what was awaited: 

"Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace,
according to your word;
for my eyes have seen your salvation
that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light of revelation to the Gentiles,
and for glory to your people Israel." (Luke 2:29-31) 

Advent, is another Latin word. It simply means, "arrival." And the roots of the season of Advent go back as far as Nunc Dimittis, to a time when those converting to the family of faith were preparing for baptism at the feast celebrating Jesus' baptism (January 6th), which later became known as the Feast of Epiphany. The Advent season, as the four Sundays before Christmas Day, was formally established in the Western church in the 500s by Gregory the Great.

Since then, Advent has been a time for our faith to contemplate and celebrate the wondrous reality of Immanuel's arrival, God With Us (Is. 7:13-15), and all that means for our lives today and forever. Consider Him, God who became flesh, who dwelt among us, showing us how to live, and dying and rising so that we might be able to live. Consider Jesus Arrived; that's our aim this Advent Season, which kicked off on Sunday. 

Consider Jesus Arrived, seeing like Simeon, with your own eyes the long-awaited advent of the anointed, our salvation: 

"Christ is born, glorify Him!
Christ from heaven, go out to meet Him!
Christ on earth, be exalted!
Sing to the Lord all the whole earth;
and that I may join in one word:
Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad,
for Him who is of heaven and then of earth.
Christ in the flesh, rejoice with trembling and with joy;
with trembling because of our sins,
with joy because of our hope."
(Gregory Nazianzus) 

Love you, faith family. God bless and Happy Advent! 

Giving Thanks In Preparation

Dear Faith Family,   

"So CHRIST, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly awaiting him." (Hebrews 9:28)

More than likely, in twenty-four hours or so from now, you'll find yourself around a table with family, friends, and maybe a semi-stranger or two! As you do, take a moment to ponder all the faces. What, do you think, brings this collection of stories together?

While the surface answers of the obvious national holiday, a desire to be with loved ones, or familial obligation are not untrue, the truly true answer is more beautiful!

Whether a handful or a hundred, the seeming hodgepodge of persons of which you are a part is gathered together by two forces: the providence of God in and through your intertwining histories, and gratitude for another year of His sustaining graces. Whether named, presumed, or, as too often the case, overlooked in the festivities, God's unchanging faithfulness in each new morning and in more yesterdays than we will know is why we gather around a table of thanksgiving. 

It has been God's unchanging faithfulness across all the yesterdays of human existence that has had our attention these last several weeks. God, guiding history towards the arrival of His anointed, the One who will restore what has been lost in our relationship with the earth, each other, and God Himself. This story of *Jesus Awaited, is the story we are all caught up in.

From the "first gospel" in Genesis through the "first glimpse" of the Anointed in the flawed image of David, to the unprecedented visions of the exiled prophets; we have seen the providence of God intertwining histories through sustaining graces in preparation for the anointed's arrival, His "advent". An arrival we begin to contemplate and celebrate beginning this Sunday. 

Thinking about such things has me wondering, does Thanksgiving fall where it does on the calendar for a reason? Could it be that a day to gather around a table by God's providence and sustaining grace is just what we need to prepare for Christ's, "the anointed," arrival, once in history and again in our future? 

I think it might, and I pray it does. May the Spirit of God fill us with both gratitude and hope around our Thanksgiving tables tomorrow.

Love you, faith family. God bless and Happy Thanksgiving! 

Looking Beyond What's Anticipated

Dear Faith Family,   

"But of the Son he says, 'Your throne, O God, is forever and ever, the scepter of uprightness is the scepter of your kingdom. You have loved righteousness and hated wickedness; therefore God, your God, has anointed you with the oil of gladness beyond your companions.'" (Hebrews 1:8-9)

In the opening declaration of the wonder of Jesus Ascended*, the author of Hebrews quotes a song of worship. Specifically, the author quotes Psalm 45, "a love song" as it is titled in many translations. The song, penned by the Sons of Korah, was made prominent by the king who put them in charge of temple worship, King David. 

In the arrival of the now-famous David onto the scene of the story of *Jesus Awaited, the anticipation for "the anointed" reaches its clearest image. As we discovered on Sunday, in the anointing of David, we are given the picture of what the one covered in both the life of humanity and the life of God would be like: 

"Then all the tribes of Israel came to David at Hebron and said, 'Behold, we are your bone and flesh. In times past, when Saul was king over us, it was you who led out and brought in Israel. And the LORD said to you, 'You shall be shepherd of my people Israel, and you shall be prince (leader) over Israel." So all the elders of Israel came to the king at Hebron, and King David made a covenant with them at Hebron before the LORD, and they anointed David king over Israel." (2 Samuel 5:1-3)

 

The anointed is the head of the body of God's people, a shepherd prince, and a covenanting king. This image is further solidified just a few chapters later, when God promises to bring peace and to perpetuate the line and anointing of David. 

"'Moreover, the LORD declares to you that the LORD will make you a house. When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be to him a father, and he shall be to me a son...And your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever.'" (2 Samuel 7:11-16)

While it seems that the millennia of anticipation of the anointed had finally reached its fullness in the person and purposes of David, even David knew that the One awaited, though like him, was indeed "beyond" him. It is the under-realized hope in ones like himself that compels David to not only commission the sons of Korah to write of the awaited anointed, but to envision in his own psalms, the arrival of One who stood apart from even the best of his preceding images. 

"Who shall ascend to the hill of the LORD? And who shall stand in his holy place? He has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false and does not swear deceitfully. He will receive blessing from the LORD and righteousness from the God of his salvation... Lift up your heads, O gates! And be lifted up, O ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in. Who is the King of glory? The LORD strong and mighty... Who is the King of glory? The LORD of hosts, he is the King of glory!" (Psalm 24:2-10)

"The word of God to my Lord: 'Sit alongside me here on my throne until I make your enemies a stool for your feet." You were forged a strong scepter by God of Zion; now rule, though surrounded by enemies! Your people will freely join you, resplendent in holy armor on the great day of your conquest, Join you at the fresh break of day, join you with all the vigor of youth. God gave his word and he won't take it back: you're the permanent priest, the Melchizedek priest.'" (Psalm 110:1-4)

These are but two of the "Messianic Psalms," the songs of the anointed. In them, David anticipates one who is beyond him. One "who does not lift up his soul to what is false and does not swear deceitfully," who is more than a King, but a king-priest of a different order, "the permanent priest, the Melchizedek priest," who draws people into a return, a resurrection of life, "the vigor of youth." No wonder David can only conclude that the answer to the question of "Who is the King of glory?", the anointed to restore the relationship between heaven and earth, but "The LORD" (Yahweh) himself. 

Now, we are still centuries away from the vision of the anointed becoming fully married to the vision of the divine anointed. Nevetheless, it is the image of the anointed as one beyond his companions, who, unlike them, is not bound by sin, not mired in deception, and who will be the head of his people, a shepherd of the flock, a covenant maker and keeper who brings peace through his life and leadership, that the anointing and worship of David provides us in the story. It is the same image of the anticipated anointed that fueled the faith of God's people, even as their leaders (their kings, priests, and prophets) failed to live up to their anointing: to serve as mediators of God's "heavenly wisdom," channels through which life could flourish and be safeguarded against evil, sin, and death's lordship. 

Perhaps today, amid under-realized hopes for something or someone different, we too need the image of One beyond his companions to be what we await. May our inclusion into this story of *Jesus Awaited in all the yesterdays fuel our faith and faithfulness today, even as we await forever:

"...Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever."
(Hebrews 13:8) 

Love you, faith family. God bless! 

Why Yesterday Matters

Dear Faith Family,   

"...Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever."
(Hebrews 13:8) 

"Christ ['the anointed'] is the same yesterday..." What does that mean? In what way(s) is God's anointed the same as he was yesterday, and how many yesterdays does that cover? 

Believe it or not, the anticipation of one anointed, whose life is covered in God's life and so can be a bridge or gate between heaven and earth, goes back to the first moments of human existence. Long before any prophet, priest, or king was actually anointed, the necessity and promise of one whose life could serve as a channel for flourishing, and thus a stopgap for all that opposes life, was the fuel of our faith's story. 

As we discussed on Sunday, it all begins in the Garden. Having entangled themselves with the Serpent, deceived by its lies and their own desires, humanity finds itself on the outs. Naked, ashamed, not elevated. And while the consequences of their collusion will have grave ramifications for all of history to follow, there is a promise amid the curse, a hope that looks forward to the end of the enemies of life. Here we have what has been called the "Protoeuangelion" or first gospel:    
 

"The LORD God said to the serpent, 'Because you have done this, cursed are you above all livestock and above all beasts of the field; on your belly you shall go, and dust shall you eat all the days of your life. I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise [cover/overwhelm] your head, and you shall bruise his heel.'" (Genesis 3:14-15)


 
Humanity, not just "Christians," has, from our beginnings, needed and awaited a figure who could master the forces that master us—sin, the deceiver, and death. The stories that follow in Genesis 4-11 reveal how desperately we need help if we are not to be overcome by the enemies of life. From Cain being mastered by murderous thoughts, to Lamach's declaration that taking what he wanted was his right, to the union of rebellious beings that led to depraved violence, through a dramatic yet merciful flood, followed by repeated offenses and alliances, and after a gracious scattering, we finally arrive at the calling of one (Abram), from whom a people of promise, blessed to bless the world through covenants and kings, would emerge. 
 

 "Then Abram fell on his face. And God said to him, 'Behold, my covenant is with you, and you shall be the father of a multitude of nations. No longer shall your name be called Abram, but your name shall be Abraham, for I have made you the father of a multitude of nations. I will make you exceedingly fruitful, and I will make you into nations, and kings shall come from you. And I will establish my covenant between me and you and your offspring after you throughout their generations for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you.'" (Genesis 17:3-7)


 

This promise of an ever-expanding family and the development of not just one nation but many encouraged a vision of a universal, eternal Kingdom from which all nations are part, flourishing because of one who would lead them to an abundant life and thus put an end to the enemies of flourishing. At least, that is the vision Jacob has for his fourth-oldest son, Judah. A vision he shares as his last blessing and breath.
 

"Then Jacob called his sons and said, 'Gather yourselves together, that I may tell you what shall happen to you in the days to come…The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler's staff from between his feet, until he comes to whom it belongs (Shiloh); and to him shall be the obedience of the peoples. Binding his foal to the vine and his donkey's colt to the choice vine, he has washed his garments in wine and his vesture in the blood of grapes.'" (Genesis 49:1,10-11)

From Judah's line, the line of kings, would arrive the one "to whom it belongs," the one to whom this kingdom of abundance and peace belongs. While the title for this king is still years away, and the family of Jacob at this time were mere sojourners in Egypt, living under the grace of the Pharaoh; nevertheless, this vision of a king from Judah who would bring flourishing and thus an end to that which keeps life from flourishing, became ingrained in our faith's imagination and stories, and the fueling hope for their future.  
 
Of course, we all know what happens next, right? Soon, both the people and Pharaoh forget the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And, while the family of Israel grows in number, they are no longer seen as blessed to be a blessing but as a resource to take from. Enslaved and oppressed, the people cry out in remembrance of their hope, and God responds by sending Moses to lead God's redemptive actions. Having left the land of their sojourn, they then make their way to the land of promise, but that journey is also filled with opposition. The land is not vacant, and those who claim it are not interested in giving it up.

After Israel defeated Og, the king of the Amorites, it headed toward Moab. Their king, Balak, realized that Israel's victories are not merely by the might of their army; in fact, their forces should not be able to overcome the current possessors. There must be a greater power at work here. So, Balak hires Balaam, a prophet of sorts, to curse Israel. But the funny thing is, as much as he tries and desires to, Balaam cannot speak a curse against Israel. Instead, four times, he blesses them! 
 
So, lest God's people forget that their destiny of blessing was not just for themselves but for the good of all, and that it was not something they could achieve but something that would be accomplished for them, they are reminded by their opposition of their need and sure hope for an anointed King who would both promote flourishing and be the end of the enemies of life. And there is the irony! The inevitable arrival of this need and hope of humanity—this vision of the awaited King—also bound their adversaries! Even the adversaries of life cannot escape awaiting the anointed! Here are Balaam's final two "blessings": 
 
 

"How lovely are your tents, O Jacob, your encampments, O Israel! Like palm groves that stretch afar, like gardens beside a river, like aloes that the LORD has planted, like ceder trees beside the waters. Water shall flow from his buckets, and his seed (offspring) shall be in many waters; his king shall be higher than Agag, and his kingdom shall be exalted.
 
I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near: a star shall come out of Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel; it shall crush (overwhelm) the forehead of Moab and break down all the sons of Sheth. Edom shall be dispossessed; Seir also, his enemies, shall be dispossessed…And one from Jacob shall exercise dominion and destroy the survivors of the cities!'"
(Num. 24:5-7, 17-19).

 
 
In the years that follow, as the people of Israel become the nation of Israel, the need and hope for a specially "anointed" King, different from his companions (Ps. 45:7), becomes more precise and more defined. Still, it is evident from our story that humanity, whether through flood, scattering, or curses reversed to blessings, cannot escape the arrival of the anointed one, an arriving to bless and bring about life abundant and overflowing (Gen. 49:10-11), and to overcome all that is united against life good, true, and beautiful (Num. 22-24).

What was true of the anointed all those yesterdays ago, remains the same today and forever: His arrival brings flourishing to life and an end to life's enemies. May our inclusion into this story of *Jesus Awaited, fuel our faith and faithfulness today, even as we await forever: 

"So CHRIST, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly awaiting him." (Hebrews 9:28)

Love you, faith family. God bless!