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

Love among us.

Christmas conjures up a myriad of thoughts, feelings, and responses.

Some people twirl through the season like the Nutcracker’s Sugarplum Princess, while others trudge along from November first to December twenty-fifth like Ebenezer Scrooge. There are, of course, those in between—fighting to grasp the joy of the season while simultaneously working through a never-ending and unrealistic to-do list.

Christmas holds pain and loss for some, miracles for others, and an earnest joy for those determined to hold on to the fundamental good that is Christmas.

But Christmas is more than a holiday of goodwill toward men. It is more than traditions and presents, cookies and pie. It is even more than the candles we light for Advent.

Christmas is the moment Love entered into humanity and determined to dwell among us.

Not only this, but it is also the instant where freedom to love and be loved by Love was born.

Isaiah prophesied that a day would come when a Savior would be born, who would sit on David’s throne and whose kingdom would have no end.[1]

The angels declared to the shepherds on the night of Jesus’ birth that a Messiah, the Savior, had been born.[2]

Long-awaited and anticipated, Immanuel—God with us—was here. Here on planet Earth. Here to live. Here to stay (through the Holy Spirit). Here to walk with us, abide with us, sit with us, lead and guide us. Here to love. And for those who determined to accept this Truth, His love has become a part of us.

And this Love did more than simply be with us.

This Love died for us.

All week long, I’ve been thinking about what I would write for today’s Advent post. To be honest, I was hoping that God would endue me with an extra measure of creativity and insight when I started writing. But nothing came.

In a conversation I was having with our older kids this morning at brunch, we started to share what love looks like to each of us. Sitting there, listening, it hit me how often I shift into autopilot when I recall the stories of Christmas and Easter.

Maybe you can relate?

We’ve heard them and told them so many times and in so many different ways that the depth and profundity of what God did gets lost in all of the clutter of the holidays.

God gave us His Son, Jesus—the most perfect and unblemished gift—on Christmas Day. Jesus was God incarnate, living among us, walking the streets, and rubbing shoulders with mankind. And then, Jesus died a horrendous death so that the wretchedness of humanity could have personal access to God. The payment of sin that we owed was reconciled through Christ’s sacrifice.

The resurrection that we celebrate on Easter is the exclamation point at the end of a long and dark sentence.

The waiting was finished.

That is the truest and most powerful love. No embellishment needed.

William Barclay described it this way: “God the judge has become God the lover of the souls of men.”[3]

Imagine that!

God is the lover of our souls. And this love spilled over the rim of heaven and met us here on Earth on Christmas Day.

Immanuel has not left us or abandoned us.

He resides within us, and He is all around.

Love is among us.

O holy Child of Bethlehem,
descend to us, we pray;
cast out our sin and enter in;
be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels,
the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
our Lord Emmanuel!

O Little Town of Bethlehem, written by Phillips Brooks in 1868

[2] Bible Gateway. “Isaiah 9 NIV – - Bible Gateway.” Www.biblegateway.com, www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Isaiah%209&version=NIV.

[3] Barclay, William. “Commentary on John 1″. “William Barclay’s Daily Study Bible”. https://www.studylight.org/commentaries/eng/dsb/john-1.html. 1956-1959.

Photo credit: David Becker for Unsplash

For the joy of the Lord is your strength.

Nehemiah 8:10

Disappointment.

It often comes when we least expect it.

Hopes held high only to be crushed with an unquestionable, “No.”

Doors closing.

Prayers seemingly unanswered when we’ve waited for so long.

We’ve all been there.

There are no exceptions.

Disappointment is a shared human experience.

If we struggle to find common ground in this mad world of conflict, we can at least empathize with one another in disappointment.

When Nehemiah wrote, “for the joy of the Lord is your strength,” he was addressing the immense grief the Israelites were experiencing. After a long season of captivity, the Israelites had returned to their land and were rebuilding. The priest, Ezra, had gathered the people to hear the reading of the law. As they listened, their hearts were overwhelmed with grief. So affected by the words, they entered a time of great mourning and sorrow.

When Nehemiah observed this, he sensed that this weeping was not fitting for that time. While the Israelite’s conviction and attentiveness to the words of the law reflected a true heart of repentance, this was not the season for sadness.

There was much to celebrate! A new beginning was unfolding! This was not a time to mourn, but it was a time to rejoice. As Matthew Henry stated, “Even sorrow for sin must not grow so excessive as to hinder our joy in God and our cheerfulness in his service.” [1]

Recently, Joel and I received some disappointing news. It was nothing earth-shattering, but it hit us pretty hard. We felt that familiar heartbreak that accompanies disappointment. As I was working through my emotions over what seemed like an unexpected answer to our prayers, Nehemiah’s words to the Israelites came to mind.

Nehemiah said, “Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is holy to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” Nehemiah 8:10

Christmas reminds us of miracles. Movies and songs, and stories of the past, might have us convinced that our Christmas miracle is right around the corner.

Sometimes Christmas gives us a Hallmark movie ending. And sometimes it does not.

Regardless of what we may unwrap throughout the holiday season, the truth that we can hold on to is that a miracle did take place over two thousand years ago. Disappointment can grip our hearts so tightly, but I pray it does not distract us from recognizing the beauty, wonder, and JOY all around us.

Joy.

It doesn’t seem possible that we can feel joy when we are trudging through disappointment. But that is the true miracle of Christmas. Joy rests where God’s Spirit abides.

Christmas reminds us that God came to the world in human form. God’s presence is still here. And the joy that He imparts to us is a joy that will carry us through every disappointment and every time of sorrow.

If your heart is feeling heavy today and you are anxiously waiting for a Christmas miracle, my prayer is that the comfort of Immanuel will embrace you, and that the joy of the Lord will strengthen you and hold you up. And even if the only gift you unwrap this year is Jesus’ presence in the midst of your disappointment, I pray that your eyes will see that this is truly the greatest gift of all.

Joyful, joyful, we adore You,
God of glory, Lord of love;
Hearts unfold like flow’rs before You,
Op’ning to the sun above.
Melt the clouds of sin and sadness;
Drive the dark of doubt away;
Giver of immortal gladness,
Fill us with the light of day!

Henry Van Dyke, 1907[2]

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[2] “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee.” Hymnary.org, hymnary.org/text/joyful_joyful_we_adore_thee.

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Let every heart prepare him room.

Joy to the World, written by Isaac Watts (1719)

Our college kids will be home for Christmas soon!

Floors are being swept and mopped while beds are being made.

A menu has been prepared with much-loved home-cooked meals.

The fridge is stocked, and favorite snacks are in the cupboard.

Our home is being prepared for the arrival of three very special guests, and my heart can hardly handle the waiting.

Soon.

They will be home soon.

***

There is a meme circulating. Mary and Joseph have arrived in Bethlehem. Joseph is apologizing to Mary for not booking a reservation at any of the local inns. Mary is irritated but responds to Joseph with, “I’m fine!” And anyone reading the meme would know that Mary is definitely not fine.

Most of our traditional nativity stories imply that Mary and Joseph were unprepared for their stay in Bethlehem. But the reality was that due to the census, Joseph’s family home—where they intended to stay—was full. Rather than stay in one of the guest rooms, Joseph’s family relocated the couple to the stable, where the animals were kept.

Whether one chooses to believe the traditional story or abide by the more accurate explanation of how the nativity unfolded, one thing we can be very certain of is that the place and time of Christ’s birth were intentional.

The stable may seem awfully primitive for a King, but this setting was exactly the way God ordered the events of that night.

Humble.

Unassuming.

Away from the congested home where family members were bumping up against each other throughout the day.

A place to prepare and make space for a newborn baby.

And in this stable, amongst the animals and the smells and the hay and the braying, Immanuel, God with us, was born.

In the well-known hymn, Joy to the World, one of the lines in the first verse says, “Let every heart prepare him room.”

How are you preparing your heart this Advent season?

What would making room for Jesus look like for you?

As I am busy with all the preparations before our kids arrive for Christmas, I am also taking time to pull away from the noise and hustle, the online social media chaos, and the urgent to-do list, to give God a more attentive me.

Lighting the Advent candles on Sunday, taking turns reciting the Scriptures and responding, singing hymns, and praying as a family, draws our attention away from ourselves and onto the One whom we celebrate.

Each evening when we light the Advent candle and read the devotional for the day, we are setting aside time to abide with Christ as a family.

This is how we are making room.

Don’t miss out on the preciousness of this season.

Don’t let the clutter of Christmas crowd out the beauty and wonder and joy of Christ’s birth.

Open wide your heart and prepare a place for Him to stay.

Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.

Luke 3:4

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Matthew 11:28-30

Christmas is here, and I find myself wondering: how did that happen? Did we really plow through twelve months of rainy seasons, dry seasons, cold seasons, heat, flooding, traffic jams, school days, sport events, haircuts, doctor’s appointments, and all the little things crammed into the open spaces of our calendars? How is that even possible?

And yet, here we are. Another year. Another Christmas.

In some ways, it has gone by very quickly; in other ways, it has felt incredibly slow and arduous.

I’m going to be honest. I am weary. I’ve been living in “weary” for quite some time. I need rest. My soul needs rest, and I am finding glimpses of freedom in acknowledging this. My defenses are down. I’m becoming comfortable with this reality.

While I’m not waving a flag of victory and dancing my way into Christmas- and the year ahead- I am consciously more settled in my soul – now more than ever – with the conviction that God is God, and I am not. The flag I am waving looks more like surrender. My role in this grand story is to live a life honoring and representing Christ in the best and most authentic way possible. And the way I can do this is to take his yoke upon myself – to learn from him the deeper practice of trust and resiliency – and to keep my gaze fixed on Christ.

I want my life marked, not by doing everything perfectly, or handling each challenging situation without flaw or with a track record of exceptional strength, but marked by working out my faith in weakness and humility, surrender to God, and never giving up. In the weariness, there is rest.

Jesus calls the weary to himself. He does not call the self-sufficient, nor those with the proper religious credentials or perfect, Instagram-able lives. He calls those exhausted from toil, from just getting through the day. He calls those burdened with heavy loads, those weighed down by sin and sorrow. It is these, not the confident and successful, to whom Jesus says, “Come to me.”

Prayer in the Night, by Tish Harrison Warren

It has been a year, and I need Immanuel. I need his closeness…his nearness.

Weary and worn, my hope…my peace…my joy and my heart are living in the childlike wonder that Immanuel is here – that his promise to never leave us is a promise kept, and that his invitation to “Come” has not expired.

Throughout this Advent season we’ve made space to reflect upon the hope we have in Christ’s promise, the peace that anchors us in a world of chaos and sin, the joy as we look to something – Someone – greater to come, and the delight in being so loved by our Savior. We’ve welcomed the anticipation and we’ve leaned in hard to the steadfast truth that holds us in our weariness.

Today is Christmas Day. The long-awaited Messiah has arrived. We no longer wait in suffering and silence but hold his promises close.

He says “Come” to the burned out, the broken, the tired, the hurt, the grieving and the hopeful. He is the Savior for the weary, the long-suffering and the lost. And he invites us to take his yoke…to learn and trust…to rest in his presence.

He is God with us.

Immanuel.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

John 3:16

For God so loved…

The word “so,” when used as an adverb, can have a few different meanings. It can express the degree or extent of something, or it can also declare something that is definite. For example: “The music is so loud,” or “The volume of the music must be just so.”

One statement is expressing the extremeness of the sound of music playing, while the other is declaring the absoluteness of what level the volume of the music must be.

In this Scripture, both meanings can be applied.

As a way of expressing the extent of God’s love, we can read it as “God loved so much – so intensely and so extremely – that he gave…” As a definitive statement, we can read it as, “There is no question about God’s love, it is just so, and therefore he gave…”

Either way, we recognize that God loved us extremely and most purposefully, and because of this intense and absolute love, he gave his most precious possession: his one and only Son.

Have you ever been loved like that? Maybe you have a person in your life that loves you so completely that they would be willing to give their most precious possession to you, or even further, they would die for you. If so, that is a gift. But would they be willing to give, or to die, for all? Is their love so expansive and perfect that they would lay down their own life for that of a stranger, a sinner, or someone they don’t particularly like? To be so loved by One who knows the faults and the sins of all of us is a love I don’t think any of us can begin to fathom. And not one single human being on this earth can honestly say we can so love in the same way.

It (John 3:16) tells us of the width of the love of God. It was the world that God so loved. It was not a nation; it was not the good people; it was not only the people who loved him; it was the world. The unlovable and the unlovely, the lonely who have no one else to love them, the man who loves God and the man who never thinks of him, the man who rests in the love of God and the man who spurns it–all are included in this vast inclusive love of God. As Augustine had it: “God loves each one of us as if there was only one of us to love.” William Barclay’s The Daily Study Bible Series, Revised Edition.

God so loved all.

This kind of love is beyond comprehension.

This kind of love causes our hearts to pound in our chests, especially when we begin grasp the enormity of it all.

This kind of love should move us…compel us…humble us…to shed our pride, our broken systems, and our preferences, and love sacrificially.

This kind of love should undo us…wreck us…change us.

Christmas is just the beginning of the love story between Christ and mankind. It was the spark that ignited a new era of love between God and his people. It was the fulfillment of prophecy and law. It was Immanuel. It was God with us. No longer far off and distant, this love came down, in the form of a human – a tiny, precious baby – and was among us. Flesh and bone, eye-to-eye, rubbing up alongside the world, feeling our feelings, carrying our sorrows and soothing our pain. He came because he so loved.

Christ’s arrival was the start of a journey that eventually led to the cross. His mission was set. There was no other way. Wrapped in swaddling clothes, the story of redemption made its way into our fractured world. Love was born. A love that had never been experienced on earth before invaded the darkness, stepped into our brokenness, and extended itself to any who would accept it and believe.

So loved.

I have been reflecting on this love for several weeks. How has being so loved by God changed me? What evidence is there in my life that reflects this kind of love? And what is my response?

To be so loved does demand a response. Not because this is a conditional kind of love, but because such an unconditional expression of love compels us.

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son.

John 3:17-18

When our hearts come face-to-face with this extravagant and unconditional love, they are required to make a choice: believe it or deny it. There really is no middle ground. We are either compelled to embrace this love with belief and obedience, or we choose not to accept this reality. This love demands a response, and there are only two options.

If, when a man is confronted with Jesus, his soul responds to that wonder and beauty, he is on the way to salvation. But if, when he is confronted with Jesus, he sees nothing lovely, he stands condemned. His reaction has condemned him. God sent Jesus in love. He sent him for that man’s salvation; but that which was sent in love has become a condemnation. It is not God who has condemned the man; God only loved him; the man has condemned himself. William Barclay’s The Daily Study Bible Series, Revised Edition.

Beyond believing and accepting the One who lavished this love on mankind, being so loved drives us to do something. We don’t do in order to receive God’s love. We do as a result of God’s love. So, what do we do? What are the actions that follow acceptance?

We obey.

We love.

We follow Christ.

We put on humility.

We give.

We die to self.

I think those of us who struggle to obey, love, follow, show humility, give sacrificially and die to our selfish nature are those of us who have not truly grasped the love that God gave us on Christmas. We may mentally take note of it, but our hearts have yet to  receive it. Because being so loved should leave us trembling and aware of the depths God went to in order to save us and redeem us and draw us back to himself. It is too powerful to not be transformed.

For Christ’s love compels us.

2 Corinthians 5:14

What about you? Are you wrestling to even accept and acknowledge Christ’s love for you? Have you yet to receive it, believe and enter into a relationship with Jesus Christ?

If so, what it holding you back? Are there fears or past hurts that seem to stand between you and redemption?

Maybe you have accepted this love, but you struggle to truly embrace its power and extravagance. You are carrying around a lot of fear and wounds, and it is hard to comprehend being so loved. And, in turn, it is difficult to express this unconditional love to others.

Without shame and without pressure, can I just encourage you to consider just how much God loves you right now – imperfect and flawed? Just take a moment to sit in that space…reflecting on how it feels to be so loved.

God didn’t send his son, Jesus, for a privileged few. He sent Jesus for all. God wasn’t, and still isn’t, looking for a perfect person upon whom he can lavish his undeserving love. Jesus came for the lovely and the unlovely. He came for the Abraham’s and the King David’s. He came for the Tamar’s and the Rahab’s. He came for the Jews and the Gentiles.

He came for the rest of us – for all of us.

And all he asks for are our hearts…our obedience…our trust…and our willingness to give his love to others in return.

Christmas is coming. In just a few short days we will gather with family, or attend a church service, and – perhaps – engage in traditions, old and new. As we anticipate the culmination of this season of Advent in the warmth and joy of Christmas Day, may our hearts be further challenged to receive and give this incredible gift of being so loved. Without pause, may we be quick to give our lives in obedience and embrace those who Christ also came to save. What a very different world this would be if we could simply live as so loved.

What can I give Him,

Poor as I am? –

If I were a Shepherd

I would bring a lamb;

If I were a Wise Man

I would do my part, -

Yet what I can I give Him, -

Give my heart.

Christina Rosetti (1872)

The celebration of Advent is possible only to those who are troubled in soul, who know themselves to be poor and imperfect, and who look forward to something greater to come. Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Troubled souls.

I can be included in that category. Troubled. Imperfect. Poor in spirit. In need of a Savior.

Hope and peace turn our hearts towards this “something greater to come”. We know that our hope is secure. We know that peace is Immanuel – God with us. And so, joy is birthed from the conviction that something – Someone – greater is coming.

Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress.

Isaiah 9:1

Isaiah prophesied that a time was coming when there “will be no more gloom”. He declared that a light would pierce the darkness, and the joy of mankind would increase.

He was prophesying the coming of the Messiah – Jesus Christ. Hope was imminent.

But first, there would be gloom and despair. Troubled souls, like yours and mine, would be waiting, hoping, wondering, and longing. Like the beloved hymn states: “Long lay the world in sin and error pining”.

Mankind was in need of a Savior.

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.

Isaiah 9:2

But, finally, light broke through the wall of thick darkness. The weary world was shaken to attention. The announcement to the shepherds, the star that guided the wise men, it was a most significant event – the dawning of the Messiah.

You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy; they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as warriors rejoice when dividing the plunder.

Isaiah 9:2

This event…this light dawning, would be more than a beautiful sunrise. It would be more than a bright and shining star. It was a promise that something greater would cause troubled souls to rejoice. It was likened to reaping a harvest or a great feat by a warrior. It was going to bring a kind of joy that would increase and expand everything in their small and gloomy world. It was a moment that would take the crazy and the chaos, the messy and the out-of-order, and bring everything – all creation – into wholeness and completeness.

Mankind is still in need of a Savior.

Christ came, and he brought his perfect peace, but not every soul has grasped it. There are still so many walking daily in the darkness and gloom. They have yet to experience the joy of Christ’s light. They are trying so hard to put things in order in their own power. They live as though the promise of hope has yet to come.

I think we can all be found guilty of this, if we were honest. We forget that Christ came, and his light gives us everything we need to rejoice. We forget that he is coming again. We lose that anticipation of the second coming. Our joy wanes in the heaviness of the here and now.

But when we recognize that our souls are troubled, that our own imperfections cloud the truth, then we are on our way to being transformed by the Light shining in the darkness.

If you have not felt the troubledness of your soul, then you cannot truly experience the joy of Christmas…the hope of what is to come. If you are hardened to the true condition of humanity, and you live blinded to the gloom and despair, then the reality of Christmas, and the light that shot down from heaven to earth – illuminating everything – will be sadly lost on you. Christmas will only amount to trees and tinsel and presents and unmet longing. We must acknowledge our troubled souls in order to appreciate and grasp the enormity of Christ’s humble arrival over 2000 years ago, and his imminent return. There is no greater joy than the promise that Christ fulfilled, and the promise yet to come. This Advent is a celebration of what has already come to pass, and what is most surely on its way…Christ has come, and he is coming again!

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end.

Isaiah 9:6,7

Christ is with us. He is Immanuel.

There is joy in his presence.

And Christ is coming again.

The Advent of his coming makes our joy complete.

I am looking for something…for Someone…greater to come.

Jesus Christ…Savior and Messiah.

Are you, too, a troubled soul? Have you had a moment of spiritual amnesia? Have you forgotten Immanuel?

Are you struggling to put your life, this world, back into order? Are you weary?

Reflecting on the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy what brings you hope, peace and joy? Can you connect the dots beginning with the promise fulfilled which leads to the promise of Christ’s second coming?

Is your joy complete in Christ? If not, what do you need to release right now in order to experience the hope, peace and joy that Christ has to offer you?

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Saviour’s birth;
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
‘Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Placide Cappeau

]]> http://amyeslater.com/?feed=rss2&p=5055 0 http://amyeslater.com/?p=5046 http://amyeslater.com/?p=5046#comments Sun, 04 Dec 2022 04:31:12 +0000 Amy http://amyeslater.com/?p=5046 Peace.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

John 14:27

Peace is hard to come by. In our world, it is difficult to find a point of agreement on just about anything: politics, religion, philosophical beliefs on topics ranging from parenting to leadership to morality to social justice. We just can’t seem to find common ground, even on the fundamentals. The truth is, there has never been a time in history when we all agreed on every matter and every point of view. There have always been conflicting thoughts, opinions, and perspectives. That is life. However, never before has there been such animosity, hatred, and the absence of peace in the midst of our differences. It’s not that we can’t get along or find common ground. It’s that we won’t.

Interestingly, we all long for peace. And yet, in that longing, we create more and more of an atmosphere void of peace. We push so hard to get our point across – believing that peace will be attained by uniformity – that we sever relational strings that have long held us together.

I’ve often wondered what was it like during the four-hundred-year intertestamental time – that time between the Old Testament and the New Testament? What about it made Isaiah refer to it as a time of “darkness and fearful gloom”? What was happening?

The intertestamental time was a era fraught with conflict. The difference between this period following the Old Testament and the advent of Christ was that there was complete silence from God. There were no prophets speaking and warning, bringing God’s word to the people. There was no Jesus disrupting the status quo. There was nothing. No voice of conviction nor comfort. Just silence.

And in that silence was longing.

Judas Maccabeaus, the leader of the rebellion against the Seleucid king, Antiochus IV Epiphanes – who desecrated the Temple in order to impose Greek culture and religion onto the Jewish people – led the fight which eventually brought political freedom to the small nation of Israel. But this only lasted eighty years – the span of a life. The Roman empire, which was the ruling kingdom at the time of Christ’s birth, swiftly conquered the independent Judea.

The Hebrew word for peace, shalom (שׁלום) is derived from a root denoting wholeness or completeness, and its frame of reference throughout Jewish literature is bound up with the notion of shelemut, i.e. perfection.

Dr. Aviezer Ravitzky

From the final prophetic word to the time of Christ was around four-hundred-years. And even though Israel won their freedom for a short period of time within that long timeframe, there was still an emptiness.

The Maccabees attained a form of liberation, but even that was still considered, by the absence of documentation by the prophets, as a dark and fearful time. Why?

Because God was silent.

Imagine a world without God’s voice. Imagine no word from heaven. No Holy Spirit speaking and nudging hearts and minds.

Heaven was silent.

As much as man tried to restore peace, true peace had not yet come.

It wasn’t until Jesus Christ, the Messiah, entered into the story that peace – shalom (שׁלום) – illuminated the darkness and the gloom. Jesus was the embodiment of perfection, the heart of peace. And his peace brought wholeness and completeness.

Christ’s peace was not the manmade manufactured kind, and knowing that the disciples would encounter more gloom and darkness, He brought words of comfort:

My peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.

His peace is the assurance of his presence, his grace, his justice, and his truth. Christ wasn’t going to leave them in silence. He promised the Holy Spirit to them.

I do not give to you as the world gives.

He warned them that the peace the world will try to attain and put into practice will not suffice…it will leave them wanting. The world cannot give the kind of peace that aligns with perfection. Only God can.

Along with truth and justice, peace is among the most hallowed Jewish values.

Dr. Aviezer Ravitzky

In this season of “peace on earth, goodwill toward men” let us not confuse our earthly methods of creating and attaining peace to the kind of peace that Jesus promised to us. If we are looking to a political victory or a win in an argument, we are going to be sorely disappointed. That peace, the world’s peace, will never satisfy the longings of our hearts.

It is the assurance that Christ gives us, and we are reminded of every year as we anticipate the wonder of Christmas, of his presence, his voice, his coming again. We can hold on to that. In Christ’s kingdom, unlike all the ancient kingdoms come and gone, truth, justice and peace will reign. We can cling to that, and in the midst of this broken world, we can surely find peace.

In what, or in whom, are you looking for the promise of peace?

Christ promised us his peace, a peace that brings wholeness and completeness. As you anticipate the celebration of Christ’s birth, what facets of his character bring you peace?

What challenge are you facing that is causing anxiety for you today? How can Christ’s promise of peace bring a calm to your weary mind and heart? What hole in your life are you trying to fill yet failing to close the gap and achieve wholeness? What do you need to release to God today so that you can stand secure in his perfect peace?

Silent Night

Silent Night, Holy Night

All is calm, all is bright

Round yon virgin mother and child

Holy infant so tender and mild

Sleep in heavenly peace,

Sleep in heavenly peace.

Joseph Mohr

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.

Proverbs 13:12

Waiting and hoping.

Longing is defined by Merriam Webster as “a strong desire especially for something unattainable”.

Have you ever longed for something important…something significant…something that your heart has been set on for a long time, only to keep on waiting as “unrelenting disappointment” (MSG) continued to break your heart as you kept on waiting?

No results.

No perceived light at the end of the tunnel.

Disappointment can uproot any hope that we have been holding onto.

Year after year, generation after generation, the Israelites waited for the promised Messiah. After four hundred years, I imagine many hearts had either given up hope or felt the great heart sickness of this “unrelenting disappointment”.

Matthew, the first book of the New Testament, opens without fanfare or a dazzling play-by-play of the answer to hundreds of years of prayers. Rather, he opens up his account of Jesus Christ with a genealogy.

This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah the son of David, the son of Abraham.

Matthew 1:1

Genealogies were significant. They were a way to legitimize a person, stating “this individual is who they claim to be”. In Matthew’s introduction to his account of Jesus, he starts by connecting Jesus to Abraham and David. Both Abraham and David are significant members of this ancestorial line. Abraham was the father of the nation of Israel and the one to whom God made covenant with. God promised Abraham that, through his offspring, God would pour out his blessing. David was royalty. God made a covenant with David as well- that his offspring would sit on the throne and rule forever.

Matthew points to Abraham, drawing the attention of the readers to the fact that the promise and blessing of Abraham has come through Jesus Christ. Christ was not just another name in a line of generations past; he was the fulfillment of the promise made to Abraham from the conception of a nation.

Matthew points to David, declaring Christ’s royal lineage. Jesus is the heir to David’s throne, and he will reign forever. God’s covenant to David was fulfilled through Jesus. Prophets had foretold the coming of the Messiah. The Israelites were anticipating a king.

While Matthew’s genealogy pointed directly to Christ’s fulfillment of Abraham’s promise and his royal lineage through David, it also did something deeply profound. Matthew highlighted four women: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Uriah’s wife (Bathsheba). Not only was it something of a wonder to find the names of women included in a male-dominated genealogy, but these women were prostitutes, Gentiles, women wrapped up in scandal.

They were outsiders.

They were the rest of us.

After four hundred years of waiting, Jesus came. He came as King of kings, the promised one of Abraham, and the Hope of all mankind.

Through Matthew’s genealogy, we see that this longing for the Messiah had come. Hope was no longer deferred.

Hope is with us.

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.”

Hebrews 10:23

It is easy to get caught up in the mental madness of all the broken promises this world has given to us. As much as we may try to avoid keeping track, our brains somehow hold all the records of all the wrongs we’ve experienced and all the misplaced hopes we’ve pined away for. Some of those losses were a blessing, and we breathe a big sigh of relief. Some of them might still hurt. We hoped, and we waited. Maybe we are still hoping and still waiting. We are walking in that “unrelenting disappointment”.

Misplaced hope always leaves us wanting.

But the hope that holds us…keeps us…strengthens us in the midst of a world that consistently disappoints, is the Hope that came at Christmas. The son of David and the son of Abraham. The promise incarnate. The King of kings. The Messiah for all of us.

The hope we profess is the hope of salvation and redemption…the hope of Jesus. And we know that he is faithful. Matthew’s genealogy legitimizes Christ’s identity. We know that the promise has been fulfilled, and therefore, we know our hope is secure.

Christmas is my favorite time of year. The lights, the music, the ‘butterflies in the tummy’ feeling of anticipation brings me tremendous joy. There is hope everywhere. It is in the eyes of the six-year-old hoping to find that special toy under the Christmas tree. It is in the face of the young woman hoping to grasp her long-awaited joy. It is in the voice of the singer who declares “Joy to the world…”, and it is heard in the heartbeat of our elders, wondering if there truly is hope for mankind.

I love Christmas even more because I know that my hope is grounded in truth. While I may not see clearly, or understand the circumstances around me, the assurance of Christ’s presence gives me tremendous peace.

What- or who- are you hoping in this year?

What does Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus mean to you as you contemplate the hopes deferred in your life?

If you were to hold unswervingly to the Hope that Matthew declares to be the legitimate Messiah and King, how might your perception of your current circumstances change?

What does hope in Christ look like to you?

Hope.

Hope in Jesus…the promise…the King…is a hope that never betrays us. Like a beautiful string of lights that warm up the cold winter landscape, Christ’s presence reminds us that hope in him will light our paths and warm our hearts…even when the world turns a cold shoulder on its promises.

Brighter than the blazing noon,

Christmas hath a chillness

Warmer than the heat of June,

Christmas hath a beauty

Lovelier than the world can show:

For Christmas bringeth Jesus,

Brought for us so low.

Earth, strike up your music,

Birds that sing and bells that ring;

Heaven hath answering music

For all angels soon to sing:

Earth, put on your whitest

Bridal robe of spotless snow:

For Christmas bringeth Jesus

Brought for us so low.

- Christina Rossetti

The paradox of Christmas.

They were looking for a king in regal attire…riding on a horse, wielding a sword and rescuing the world from political bondage.

But the Messiah came in humility…brought low…poor and simple…to rescue the world from spiritual bondage.

They wanted power.

He offered redemption.

They wanted a Messiah created in their image.

They couldn’t see the very image of God standing right in front of them.

Concerned with tradition and appearance, they missed the moment that peace entered in.

Hope for salvation invaded our world…brought down low for you and me.

In a simple manger…born to simple means…humble and unrecognizable…

“The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not receognize him.” John 1:9, 10

I don’t want to miss it.

The peace of reconciliation with God…the joy of his presence…the hope of the world…a love willing to sacrifice…

May we never miss it.

May our hearts remain in focused anticipation…not deterred by silly doctrines or fantasies.

May we live in an ongoing state of expectation.

He is coming.

Saviour of the world.

Hope for mankind.

Wonderful Counselor.

Mighty God.

Everlasting Father.

Prince of Peace.

The Lord Our Righteousness.

God with us.

The coming of Christ…the arrival and celebration…and the hopeful anticipation of his second coming.

True joy…

I am grateful for the One who was brought down low, who brought salvation into the world…who rescues…saves…sets the broken free…who loves and dwells with mankind.

Our hope.

Our Immanuel.

Merry Christmas!

Six years ago, and I remember it so well.

I remember the very moment the doctor laid him on my chest, fresh and new, warm and soft. I remember looking at him, observing him, unable to take my eyes off of his perfect little face, his thick matte of black hair, and his hands clenched in tiny determined fists. I felt immense adoration for this new person that God had blessed our family with. I was in love.

I’ve been challenged over the course of these past several weeks of Advent to consider what, or whom, I adore. What thing, or what person, holds my heart? Or better yet, what thing or person, is king of my heart? Who do I adore…who do I worship?

This is week four of Advent…come, let us adore him.

“The days are coming,” declares the Lord, “when I will raise up to David a righteous Branch, a King who will reign wisely and do what is just and right in the land. In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety. This is the name by which he will be called: The Lord Our Righteousness.” Jeremiah 23:5-6

When the Magi came to King Herod and inquired about “the one who has been born king of the Jews?” (Matthew 2:2), Herod was “disturbed”.

King Herod’s actions after his initial disturbance were truly horrific. He ordered that all boys who were two years old or younger in Bethlehem and its vicinity be put to death. His fierce anger and jealousy wreaked devastation and destruction on the lives of innocent families and communities.

I am not a fan of King Herod. I imagine you are not, either. He is the villain in the Christmas story.

And yet, I wonder how often I behave just like him. I don’t throw out murderous plots or meet out acts of revenge, but I do struggle to relinquish the throne over my life.

“Where is the true King?” That question is the most disturbing question possible to a human heart, since we want at all costs to remain on the throne of our own lives. – Hidden Christmas, by Timothy Keller

This question has troubled me. As a child, I often pictured myself as Mary in the grand drama of the Christmas story, but when I stop and try to answer this question, “Where is the King?” I realize that, more often than not, I am Herod.

I struggle to give God everything.

I struggle to adore him without reservation.

There is always that little something that keeps me from fully surrendering.

It is a battle.

Yet, to truly adore God is to let go of the throne of my life.

And this is a daily act of surrender.

“O come let us adore him.”

To adore him is to be fully devoted to him.

Even now, when I look at Jasper, there is a love – inexplicable – that fills every nook and cranny of my heart. I adore that little boy of mine.

But there is a King who does not beg, demand or force my affections and adoration. He doesn’t push his way onto the throne of my life. He simply waits.

To forfeit my throne to this King only give my heart a greater capacity to love…to forgive…to pour out freely…to worship and adore the true King.

He is the King – The Lord Our Righteousness – who holds my heart in the palm of his hands.

He is the King – Emmanuel, God with us – who abides with me in every circumstance.

He is the King – Christ the Lord – who reigns over my life with wisdom and peace.

And I adore Him.

“For He alone is worthy,

For He alone is worthy,

For He alone is worthy,

Christ, the Lord.”