A Mentor: Preparing the Way

Many of us know well the straight-line plot of the Christmas story.  Angel Gabriel visits Mary with the news that she is with child, though yet a virgin.  She immediately runs to her cousin, Elizabeth, who is miraculously pregnant despite her age, and when she returns three months later, Mary tells her fiance Joseph who obviously does not believe her since he plans to privately put her away versus having her publicly stoned.  

Then, the angel appears to Joseph in a dream, confirming Mary's words so that when he awakens, he immediately takes Mary as his wife, even going so far as to protectively take her along with him to Bethlehem to be counted in the census.  There, amidst the least of humanity is born the greatest of all, Immanuel, God made flesh, dwelling among us.

But what about that little side trip to Elizabeth's?  In those days with no Wal-Mart or Dollar General on every corner, trade caravans frequently traveled between cities.  If anything, being under Roman rule only increased traffic along the trade routes.  So, although it sounds insane for a young girl like Mary to just take off to her cousin's house in a nearby town, it probably wasn't as crazy as it sounds.  Also, the fact that the angel named Elizabeth as a relative, or cousin, implies she and Mary may have already had a relationship as family would have, especially in those days.

When Mary asks the angel "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" the angel explains about the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit, then without pause adds, "'And behold, even your relative Elizabeth has also conceived a son in her old age; and she who was called barren is now in her sixth month. For nothing will be impossible with God'” (Lk. 1:34, 36-7).

God needn't have given Mary further "proof" than the angel's presence that His Word would come true.  In other places in Scripture, He chastens those who ask such questions.  And yet, perhaps because Mary was so young or perhaps because God knew her question wasn't so much a lack of faith but a lack of comprehension of the nuts and bolts of the process,  He did give Mary a kind of Gideon-like fleece in this verse about Elizabeth, not only providing proof that could be confirmed but also a place touched by God's miraculous hand where Mary could go to for encouragement and mentoring.

Mary's response to the angel shows obedience and belief, and in this faith of a young girl, Scripture says, "Now at this time Mary arose and went in a hurry to the hill country, to a city of Judah, and entered the house of Zacharias and greeted Elizabeth" (Lk. 1:39-40)..

 She hurried.  I imagine Mary hurried because she was excited to know her relative who had been barren all her life was suddenly six months into her pregnancy even though she was past typical child bearing age. Perhaps Mary, herself, had even prayed diligently for years for Elizabeth to be with child and to remove the curse from her household. 

I imagine she hurried because as much as she believed by faith, she wanted to believe by sight as well.  

I imagine she hurried because she wanted desperately to share what was happening to her with someone who would truly understand the miracle of God.

And Mary wasn't disappointed.  

As soon as Mary's foot passed over the threshold of her cousin's home, Elizabeth was speaking words of affirmation and comfort to Mary's soul.  Scripture reads, 
 
"When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. And she cried out with a loud voice and said, 'Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And how has it happened to me, that the mother of my Lord would come to me? For behold, when the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby leaped in my womb for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what had been spoken to her by the Lord.'" (Lk. 1:41-45).

Luke records that Mary stayed with Elizabeth "about three months, and then returned to her home" (v. 56).  It is likely Mary was there when Elizabeth gave birth to John who would become known as John the Baptist, the one whom Scripture says, "came, preaching in the wilderness of Judea, saying, 'Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.' For this is the one referred to by Isaiah the prophet when he said, 'The voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘Make ready the way of the Lord, Make His paths straight!’'" (Matt. 3:1-3).

Just as John the Baptist came to prepare the way of the Lord, to prepare hearts for Jesus and the baptism by the Holy Spirit, so, too, Elizabeth helped prepare the way for Mary to be the mother of the Savior.

Those three months with Elizabeth were a divinely appointed preparation time for Mary to be mentored both spiritually and physically for what was to come in the days ahead.

And that's it.  Story over.  Scripture never records what happens to Elizabeth.  Did she die before King Herod served up John then Baptist's head on a platter?  Or did Elizabeth live long enough to suffer through the loss of her one and only son?  I'm not sure the answer really matters.  

Whether or not God required Elizabeth to suffer in this way, the death of John the Baptist must have been a way to prepare Mary for what was to come with her Jesus, whether through continued mentoring as she watched Elizabeth grieve the loss of her flesh or through the grieving she felt as she mourned, herself, due to the spiritual connection she must have felt with John since he was an infant.

These side-stories in Scripture, those names included in the larger story but whose sub-plots we dismiss or too easily pass over--these are where we should see ourselves.

Are we the Elizabeth, mentoring a young Mary as she prepares to begin a life devoted to supporting the Savior?

Or are we the Mary, seeking out that Godly mentor to show us how to live Godly lives both during the good and the bad we know must come on our journey?

For me, I am both, and in a way, that's how I believe it should be for us all.  At this time of year, may you and I earnestly seek to be an Elizabeth in someone's life.  Likewise, may our hearts be sufficiently tender (no matter how old and wise we think we are) to seek our our own Elizabeth to prepare the way of the Lord in our hearts.

Speaking Without Words: The Story of Joseph

Six stockings are hung by the faux chimney with care, the upstairs balcony railing twinkles with a hundred miniature starry lights, and the pink tinsel Christmas tree is fully decorated.  Already, the children's Advent box is filled with candy, the snow village is covered in a thick blanket of white, and the velvet poinsettias decorate any remaining flat surfaces. 

Little hands have arranged and rearranged (at least a dozen times) the nativity with its shepherds and other visitors at Jesus' birth.  Even the Christmas gifts are all wrapped and ready for the giving. And on the kitchen table sits my favorite, the circle of purple and pink candles awaiting the first night of Advent. 

All around me, my home whispers in celebration.  The Light of the World is coming!

While I'm sure some of you will roll your eyes at my rushing the season, this early preparation for Christmas is quite intentional.  All the trappings of the season are ready.  Even the weather has brought the bitter cold of winter.  All that is left is for me to prepare my heart for Advent.

Yes.  Instead of spending the whole month before Christmas focused on buying presents, taking family pictures, or decorating, I have more time to focus on making sure my family and I pause to dwell on Jesus.

This year, our ladies Bible study group has been working through Karen Kingsbury's The Family of Jesus.  Each week, we have been gathering to discuss one person in the nativity story--Joseph, Zechariah, John the Baptist, Elizabeth, James, and Mary.   

We're two weeks from the end of our study, and while the book, itself, hasn't provided groundbreaking revelations about the Christmas story, it has served as a wonderful springboard for my diving into Scripture to explore these persons in-depth.

Perhaps because I'm a mother, I tend to look at Christmas from Mary's perspective.   And yet, Joseph has captured my attention the most this year.  

I read through the pages of the gospels and find there is not one word by Joseph recorded in Scripture.  

Mary has the Magnificat, Elizabeth praises aloud when the infant John jumps in her womb at Mary's presence, and even Zechariah sings aloud at his son's--the forerunner of Jesus'--birth.  

Joseph, however, is oddly silent.   It is this quiet nature that makes me pause.

Matthew writes of Joseph, "Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.  But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, 'Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.' All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: 'The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel^' (which means 'God with us'). When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. But he did not consummate their marriage until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus" (Matt. 1:19-25). 

The words "divorce her quietly" and "after he had considered this" reveal an introspective man, a man who, like Mary, pondered things in his heart without the need to make all his thoughts known to the entire world...without the need to convince an entire world that he was right.  

What I often forget is that as soon as Joseph obeyed the angel, he assumed Mary's guilt publicly.   

By marrying his pregnant fiance, he was claiming both the child and the sin as his own.   

For the rest of his days, those around him would label him a Sinner with a capital S.  Even as the years passed and as his family grew more distanced from the birth and shotgun marriage so that Mary and Joseph were again accepted more in the community, I'm sure every once in awhile, he would flinch under a Pharisee's critical tone aimed directly at him or hear his name invoked as a warning to children, "Don't do what Joseph did.  Wait until you're married to consummate the union."

Perhaps this is why God chose Joseph.  Another man when faced with this situation may have spent a lifetime yelling from the street corners to proclaim his innocence.  Another man would have spent a lifetime shoving his young son in the world's face in a "Here's the Messiah!!!" way, like some grand circus act.  

Yet, this was not Joseph.  He did not yell his innocence from the rooftops.  He did not loudly insist upon his personal importance in the kingdom plan.  As far as we know, no one but him, Mary, and likely Elizabeth and Zechariah ever knew and wholly accepted the truth of Jesus' conception.  We are not even sure if Joseph's parents or even Mary's parents knew about the angels and/or if they completely believed the story in faith, although I personally think any parents who raised such righteous people as Mary and Joseph likely knew and believed. 

Instead, Joseph simply continued walking the path he had always been on--a path of righteousness where he continued to obey God and listen for His voice...all without speaking a recorded word for the generations to come to read.

When the angel appears to Joseph in a dream not once, not twice, but three times in Jesus' early years, Scripture does not record Joseph speaking one word to question, to ask, or to reply. He simply awakens and immediately acts in accordance with what God has told him to do.

Even when young Jesus is found in the temple after having been missing for three days and Joseph is surely concerned, only Mary is recorded speaking words of concern when they find Jesus.  Joseph says nothing.   

In our present culture, it's too often about how many people can you get your message out to, how loud you speak, and how many people you can convince with your arguments.  Even Christians are guilty of getting into verbal arguments with other Christians, browbeating or withdrawing fellowship from those who dare to not agree with them on the finer points of Scripture that life-long devoted commentators dispute. Sadly, the "I am right, so you must listen to me" mentality permeates both the world and the church.

And then there is the example of Joseph. 

We who love the Lord with our whole heart, soul, and mind, can benefit from being like Joseph.  We need not insist on our own righteousness.  We do not need to make a huge name for ourselves or loudly proclaim our knowledge of Scripture as the correct reading of God's Word. 

Even if what the world thinks about us is dead wrong, we need only keep walking in the path of righteousness.  Our lives, not merely our words, will most accurately record our relationship with God.

Hey Santa, Define Good

Three weeks before Thanksgiving, and the mall is aglitter with everything corporate Christmas.  Tinseled lights span the open air over shoppers' heads.  Cantaloupe-sized ornaments adorn a floor to ceiling tree near one of the larger stores.  And every storefront's picture window tries to outdo the next in an attempt to catch a shopper's eye.

The store window that makes my jaw drop isn't a nearly naked Victoria's Secret or the more edgy Spencer's.  It's P.S. Aeropostale for kids.  Flanking both sides of the door on the glass are vinyl letters that read "Hey Santa, Define Good."  Behind the identical slogans hang life-sized images of young teens.

The right image shows a boy casually tossing a snowball inches above his hand while his left hand tightly grips a second snowball.  His deep smirk shows he's seriously considering his next move, likely pelting the person or place he's staring at intently in the distance.

To the left, though, is the more disturbing image.  A redhead smirks mischievously while she points behind both shoulders, an image that hearkens back to those old animated classics where a cartoon angel sat on one shoulder and a red devil on the other as the poor character struggled with these two parts of his conscience within.

Here, the angel is represented by a white girl holding a golden halo above her blonde hair.  The devil is represented by a black girl with a sulky attitude, her hands on her hips in defiance.  While the model has no horns on her raven-black haired head, her thin red leggings mimic the shape of those horns, making her association with the "devil" side of the conscience more subtle than with the cartoon devils of the past.

If I could get past the blatant racism that makes me gag where white girls are angels and black girls are devils, where white girls make good choices and black girls make bad choices--then I would be stuck with the equally disturbing Bill Clinton-esque message to our children:

Hey Santa, Define Good.

Define.  Good.

The Psalmist says, "There is no one who does good.  The Lord has looked down from heaven upon the sons of men To see if there are any who understand, Who seek after God.  They have all turned aside, together they have become corrupt; There is no one who does good, not even one" (Ps. 14:1b-3).

Our God who minces words, who skips over centuries without comment in Scripture--this same God repeats this passage almost verbatim in Psalm 53: "There is no one who does good. God has looked down from heaven upon the sons of men To see if there is anyone who understands,Who seeks after God. Every one of them has turned aside; together they have become corrupt; There is no one who does good, not even one" (Ps. 53:1b-3).

When God repeats Himself, He wants to make sure we get the point.  There is no one good.

And if that's not enough, Paul repeats the same passage a third time in Romans 3:10-12: "as it is written, 'There is none righteous, not even one; There is none who understands, There is none who seeks for God; All have turned aside, together they have become useless; There is none who does good, There is not even one.'"

No matter how good we think we may be, it's clear--we're not, no matter how good we think our words and deeds are.  

So, let's define 'good.'

As Paul reminds us in Romans 3, to be "good" is to be "righteous."  Righteous is one of those big words that simply means to be perfect as God is perfect.  To achieve Godly perfection, a person would need to be perfect in every action, in every thought, in every word, and in every intent of our heart.  

Action.  Thought.  Word.  Intent.  

To be righteous is to be 100% perfect according to God's plumb line, not according to man's definitions.

Based on God's definition of righteousness and goodness, then, we all fail.  Jesus, Himself, said, "For I say to you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 5:20).

The Pharisees worked diligently to make certain their actions lined up with God's laws.  The problem was that righteousness and goodness is not merely about our external actions.  It's about the heart.  

In the Old Testament after a long "to do" list of actions that one should do if he is to be considered righteous, God sums up by saying, "if he walks in My statutes and My ordinances so as to deal faithfully—he is righteous" (Ezekiel 18:9).  And if we go back to those Psalms, both repeat the phrase "seek after God."  

It is this seeking that indicates a person's faith in God.  As Paul says, "For in it [the gospel] the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith; as it is written, ^'But the righteous man shall live by faith'" (Rom. 1:17).

Righteousness is only obtained--even if only in a small part while here on this earth--by demonstrating faith in God, by seeking after God.  Faith is not empty faith like "I believe in the existence of God" but a faith in action, one that demonstrates belief that God means every word He says in Scripture and then acts and thinks accordingly.

Righteousness...goodness, if you will, should be the divine goal of all children of God.   It is not the punchline for a store window.

God, not Santa, defines what is righteous.  He defines it with His very character, with His just actions, with His mercy and compassion, with His judgment of sin. 

That's the message we should be teaching ourselves and our children. 

Seeing Past the Bottom Line

Christmas is the time of year when we more readily put others before ourselves and generosity blossoms more freely in our hearts.  I feel this swelling overflow as I spend several afternoons baking small loaves of banana nut bread by the dozen.  I wrap each aromatic wonder in festive red with silver curling ribbon, then give them away just to bring a bit of joy to another, to say how glad I am they're part of my life.

You won't find my husband participating in this annual Christmas bake-off...not, that it, unless you count eating a loaf or two by himself.  Although he is normally a frugal man, he does enjoy blessing others in his own way.  Usually, that involves cooking labor-intensive dishes for our extended family on Christmas Day and New Year's Eve.  Tonight, he wanted to make a couple trays of sandwiches for an after church fellowship.

As seems to happen every year, we disagreed about how many and what kind of sandwiches to make.  His logic was good--that this was just one way to give back and bless others at this time of year.  He wanted to do so lavishly, with ham, roast beef, and turkey from the deli.  But with one of my part-time jobs being cut for at least the upcoming spring and maybe even the summer semester, I couldn't see past the bottom line. 

Three pounds of meat, three loaves of bread, cheese slices, mayo....  Fifty dollars.

We buried our disagreement over the cost and breadth of the project, and he made the sandwiches as he saw fit, all as a gift to our entire church family.  But in our hearts, it was still a sore subject we had simply buried so we could enjoy the Christmas Eve service.

My husband--not me--got it right.  After placing the sandwiches on the tables for fellowship, he came and lay a Christmas card in my lap, one that had been left in our church's seasonal "post office."  What lay tucked inside the card almost led to a pre-service meltdown in the church pew-- an unexpected gift to us in the exact amount we had spent hours before on the sandwiches.

Fifty dollars.

In my focus on the cold facts of our finances, I had forgotten a truth I have learned so many times before and apparently still need to be reminded of--you can't out-give God.

Paul speaks to this truth of being generous with what we have: "whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work....He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness. You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God" (2 Cor. 9:6-11).

Many use this verse to preach a prosperity gospel.  Yet, such a gospel is false and incorrectly transforms Christianity into a what-I-can-get-from-God religion instead of a true Christianity which is concerned with what I can give to God who is worthy, no matter what He gives.  Still, time and again, I have found that what I sow in others' lives, I always seem to reap when I least expect it and in unexpected ways.  I may not reap riches, but I always seem to have "sufficiency in all things."

Since the above verses directly follow a passage encouraging the Corinthians to send money to those Christians suffering in Jerusalem, Paul was definitely speaking of sowing financially in others' lives. However, I don't believe that meaning is to the exclusion of "sowing" in other ways.   When we sow our time, our talents, and any other bit of ourselves for the benefit of others, we will also reap a bountiful harvest.

This close to Christmas, the tendency is now to turn inward and focus on just ourselves and our families, to feel like we're done with giving to others.  Still.  Give of yourself this week.  Give generously.  Not for anyone else.  But as a way to give thanks to Him for all He's done through the one single act of sending His only Son to earth for us.   

Why the Elf of the Shelf Isn't a Good Quick Fix

Growing up, we had a pair of olive green clad elves that sat on the ledge of our staircase.  On the other treads sat a hodgepodge of fond memories mother disinterred from her blue metal steamer trunk each December--the 3D gingerbread house candle from Avon, the singing red plastic bell, and the twirling, musical white-robed angel with her fifties' hairdo and halo of tiny plastic candles. 

To my brother and me, the elves were pretty cool, if for no other reason than that in a sea of our mother's "don't touch" precious memories, we were allowed free reign to gently hold these cloth objects with their molded plastic faces.  Few trips up and down the stairs didn't find me untucking their folded knees from their encircled arms and letting their twiggy legs dangle long.

Never did I ever consider that these stuffed objects might be real elves sent by Santa Claus to be sure I was behaving. 

This past year, my son came home from kindergarten with news that an elf had arrived in his room.  He had fun telling me if and when the elf magically moved around the room each day.  And much like my childhood, the elf was just a fun stuffed decoration.

But as the season progressed, I started hearing some parents using the elf as a discipline tool.  As the weeks passed, my Facebook home page literally exploded with pictures of the elf along with comments like, "You'd better be careful, Mikey.  That elf might is watching you" or "Susan was on a tear tonight.  Time for the elf to make an appearance!"

While some parents only used the cute guy as fun, for all too many, the elf became the embodiment of parental discipline, Santa's watchdog, a confidential informant so the big guy in red would know if you'd been bad or good.


Right before Christmas, a lady sweetly asked my son if he had an "Elf on the Shelf" watching to see if he was being bad lately.

Wyatt stood silent, not understanding or knowing how to respond.  Before I could bite my tongue, I blurted out,  "No.  Our house has a Father God who writes down our every action in heaven." 

This is the heart of the problem with the elf fad--teaching children behave in order to please a stuffed creature so they'll be worthy of Christmas gifts.

And now that Christmas is over? What happens now? Who should children strive to please until next December?

In Galatians, Paul speaks of grace and the law, explaining how God's grace that covers sin is not a writ of permissiveness so we can do whatever our flesh desires.  Instead, God's grace at salvation gives us the ability to fulfill the law, something we could never do within ourselves.

He then says,  "But before faith came, we were kept in custody under the law, being shut up to the faith which was later to be revealed. Therefore the Law has become our tutor to lead us to Christ, so that we may be justified by faith" (Gal. 3:23-24).

You know the law of Moses he speaks of--do not murder, do not steal, do not lie, do not covet, do not commit adultery, keep the Sabbath holy, honor your father and mother, don't worship other gods....... Then, there is Jesus' clarification of those laws in Matthew 5 where He teaches that anger in one's heart is the equivalent of murder, where lust in one's heart is the equivalent of adultery.  This is the fullest extent of obeying the law given in the Old Testament.

According to this above passage, before we became followers of Christ, the law of Moses "tutored" us, teaching us to choose right actions and, ultimately, leading us to salvation when we learned we could never keep the law on our own and needed the blood of Calvary to redeem us from our sin.

The point is that this is how we must raise our children--under the law.  Not under fear of an elf but under fear of displeasing a holy God.  We must choose to raise our children under the law until they come to faith in Him, allowing the law to be their "tutor" to lead them to faith in Christ.

Our children must be taught that daily (not just in December), God knows their comings and goings, everything done in secret, every thought they has ever entered their minds.

In our household, I constantly remind my children that God not only knows and sees all, but that He writes all their actions--good and bad--down in His book: "and another book was opened, which is the book of life; and the dead were judged from the things which were written in the books, according to their deeds" (Rev. 20:12).

In other words, discipline isn't about an elf.  It isn't about what mommy and daddy want.  

Choosing right actions is about what God wants and expects from them.

In our household, husband and I strive (and fail miserably and strive again) to discipline our children based around the Ten Commandments.  At this age, they're usually guilty of not honoring their parents, lying, coveting as is expressed through ingratitude, murder through anger, etc.   I also routinely walk around the house yelling out the fruit of the spirit at my children when I see them doing something wrong.  "Kindness!!!" or "Gentleness!!!" (Gal. 5).  The result is that just last week, my oldest looked at me before I could say a word and said, "I know, I know.  Patience."

This post isn't an elf bashing.  One day, I'm sure my mother will pass down to me one of her antique elves to sit on my shelf.   But when she does, it will be simply a sweet memory, not a tool for discipline.

Instead, this is about parenting the next generation. 

We parents must choose to instill in our children a healthy fear and respect for God alone.  Respect for a holy God and fear of disappointing a heavenly Father should direct our parenting.  It should propel our children through every season of the year, not just at Christmas time. 

Being a Sign to Others: When Your Family Doesn't Celebrate Christ in Christmas

A single day remains before we gather round friends and family to celebrate Christmas Day.  Most of us have plans of exchanging gifts as well as shared meals, laughter, and joy.

We will linger long over pie and coffee, say our good bye's more than once before we finally tear ourselves away from each other and part ways, all knowing that these few precious moments may be the only ones throughout the whole year when we will sit in the same room as our loved ones.

Perhaps some of these friends and family do not celebrate Christ's birth, deny his deity, or simply  deny Him as master over their lives.

We know they are lost, that need to claim Him as Savior and Lord.  Yet, we don't want to beat them over the head with the gospel each time we meet together, especially when they have heard the Word of God and have made it clear to us they don't want us "preaching" to them.

What can we do? When we are given this opportunity to meet with them face to face, one that we may not have for another 365 days.  Or maybe never again.

Do we hold our tongue? Hesitate to mention Christ at all because we fear offending others?

I'm not advocating starting a confrontation or family feud at your Christmas gathering.  Yet, a Christian can still use the opportunity to act as a sign to others.

The book of Ezekiel takes place approximately 593 years before Christ's birth.  In its pages, the Lord makes Ezekiel mute unless the prophetic word comes directly from above and out his human mouth.  Ezekiel's very life was to be a sign to others through his actions.

Honestly, Ezekiel's actions seem really odd.  Even to those in his day when allegories and living metaphors were more easily understood, I'd be willing to bet he got some really strange looks and his name mentioned more than once behind closed doors.  Still, he obeyed God and lived his life as a sign.

For example, in Chapter 4, Ezekiel creates a model of Jerusalem, builds a siege wall, and begins using battering rams against it.  As the Lord says, "This is a sign to the house of Israel" (v. 3).

Later, the Lord says, "Load the baggage on your shoulder in their sight and carry it out in the dark.  You shall cover your face so that you cannot see the land, for I have set you as a sign to the house of Israel" (Ez. 12:6).

In both instances, Ezekiel uses his life, his actions as a testimony concerning Jerusalem's pending destruction at the hand of Babylon.

Several chapters later, God takes Ezekiel's wife but commands him not to mourn her death.  The Lord says, "Thus Ezekiel will be a sign to you; according to all that he has done you will do; when it comes, then you will know that I am the Lord God" (Ez. 24:24).

The chapter ends with God telling Ezekiel he will regain his ability to speak when the prophecy of Jerusalem's destruction is fulfilled and captives come from Jerusalem: "On that day, your mouth will be opened to him who escaped, and you will speak and be mute no longer. Thus you will be a sign to them, and they will know that I am the Lord" (v. 27).

And in those two preceding verses is the key to why Ezekiel's actions are so important--you will know that I am the Lord God.

Ezekiel's actions were to act as a sign for all others to see in the hopes that they would see the truth, turn from their wickedness, repent, and truly know Him as their Lord.

Likewise, our family and friends need to see Christ in us who claim Him as Savior and Lord.

Even if we never open our mouths to speak one word of Scripture to "preach at" them, on Christmas day and throughout the year, our family should be able to see Jesus in our actions, hear our personal love for Jesus always spilling from our very lips.  When asked about our past year, we should be prepared to give God the glory for all He has done, all He has brought us through.

Even if our families won't listen to the plan of salvation, we are still given an opportunity to share Christ with our very lives, our words, our gestures.

It's an opportunity on Christmas Day and every other day of the year.  It is a lifestyle of godliness, holiness, and purity to point a lost World to Him who can save them.

We must decide.  Are  we prepared to be a sign to others?  Are we prepared to live a life that testifies to the entire world that God does require a different standard of living?  Are we willing to make that level of commitment?

Or will we simply compromise when our friends ask us to, stay completely silent for the sake of political correctness?

The Significance of Twenty Children

There I am, surrounded by a table full of young boys, all under the age of six.  Two of them keep sneaking open their markers when they think I'm not watching, the temptation to color a shepherd standing alone against the void of night much too great to withstand, or so it seems.   

My Bible lies open in front of me revealing the words of the familiar Christmas story.  It's not like I even have to look, read the verses. 

I know the beginning, middle, and end by heart.  

Even without reviewing my teacher's book, I know last week was the story of the shepherds and Christ's birth.  The week before spoke of the immaculate conception as well as two angels visiting both Mary and Joseph. 

This week is the Magi.  Gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  Camels, elephants, tents, and a star lighting the way to the young Christ child's home in Bethlehem.

We count the wise men on the coloring sheet, discuss how it may have been more than three men even though they only brought three gifts.

The boys squint their foreheads hard when I ask them to remember back to Daniel and the lion's den.  I tell them this same Daniel may have been the one who taught some wise men in Babylon the prophecy of Jesus' coming birth so that the wise men generations later would continue to watch for the star.

My oldest son pops open a black marker.  Even to him, this is old news, not really interesting when there is arts and crafts lying in wait.

Then, I mention "mean ole King Herod" and the wise men's dream warning them to return home a different route because of the King's desire to kill the Christ child.  The squirming dies down a bit.  Even at four and five years old, little boys are just wired to hone in on the danger/adventure part of the story.

I have their attention, so I reread the passage where Herod lies to the Magi about his true motives.  When I ask if Herod really wanted to come worship Jesus, one boy's eyes get big.  "Noooooo." he solemnly whispers.  "He wanted to kill him."

And then my eyes fall on the next passage. 

For a moment, I had forgotten this part of the story--King Herod's response when  he realized the Magi had duped him:

"Then when Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he became very enraged, and sent and slew all the male children who were in Bethlehem and all its vicinity, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had determined from the magi. Then what had been spoken through Jeremiah the prophet was fulfilled:

^'A voice was heard in Ramah,
Weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children;
And she refused to be comforted,Because they were no more'" (Matt. 2:16-18).

As a teenager, I imagined the horror of thousands of children dead.  Years later when I read scholars believe Herod's henchmen may have slaughtered around twenty* children under the age of two, I was less appalled, almost even blew off the event in light of the other horrors of the New Testament. 

Twenty is such a small number in comparison to the other heinous murders Herod is guilty of (including killing his own sons).  Even the historian Josephus doesn't bother to even mention this small event--twenty insignificant Hebrew children in a tiny, insignificant town weren't a blip on his radar.

Twenty children.  Insignificant.  

Today, though, as I sit in too-small chairs with my class of little boys, when I think back to this past Friday's tragedy in Connecticut, twenty doesn't seem so insignificant any more.

My co-teacher and I pause for a moment, both of our hearts sinking in remembrance, filled with words we can't express in the presence of innocence.

I can't not make the connection between one senseless slaughter of innocents with another, even if two thousand years separate them, even if one will tie up all the newspapers and airways for months while another was virtually ignored in a world where only Roman citizens were considered important.

I want to ask God why.  Why did he warn Mary and Joseph but not the other mothers and fathers of small children living in Bethlehem? Why allow such senseless brutality--then. now.?

But with small eyes on me, I say none of this.  I don't know the answer.  I can't wrap my mind around this historical loss of this many children, much less the twenty children who have faces, names, personalities.

So, I swallow the lump in my throat and say what I do know.  

"God protects us every day.  Every second we live without harm is a gift from God.  He does not promise to always keep us from harm.  But His Word does promise that He will never leave us nor forsake us."

In this upcoming week as this sadness burdens our minds and hearts, we must cling to promises from the Word such as these.

He may not always shield us from heartache, pain, and death.  But He does weep with us and will never abandon us, even in the midst of such horrors that this life holds. 

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me" (Ps. 23:4).

*Walvoord, John F., and Roy B. Zuck, The Bible Knowledge Commentary.  Wheaton: Scripture P, 1985.

Image: François-Joseph Navez (1787–1869) "The Massacre of the Innocents." 

One Flame of Hope

This evening marks the first Sunday of advent, the season when we Christians pause in concert to remember the sacrifice a King made when He chose to enshroud himself in the flesh of a newborn babe.

After sundown, Husband, the children, and I gathered still unsure stomachs around small cups of soup and cornbread to light the first of the long purple tapers.

As husband searched for the matches, I stepped to the living room and reached for the most well-worn Bible in the house, a New American Standard version that husband and I clung to through the worst season of our lives.

The faded cover has long since ceased to be attractive; its binding has been glued more than once; and some of its pages are stained from always being set down in the midst of life, itself. Its words, however, are still just as piercing and perfect as when the book was glossy and stiff bound with that audible crackle upon opening.

Little eyes watched as red-tipped match struck, sulfur sputtering, leaping to golden flame.

"This candle represents hope," I proclaimed.

Hope.

Even though at times we may despair, feel there is no hope, none of us really knows what it is like to live in a world without hope.

The prophet Jeremiah spoke of hope. In his letters to the exiled Israelites, to those people who felt as if their God had abandoned them to their wretchedness...to this group, he spoke words of hope.

"'For thus says the LORD, ‘When seventy years have been completed for Babylon, I will visit you and fulfill My good word to you, to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart. I will be found by you,’ declares the LORD, ‘and I will restore your fortunes and will gather you from all the nations and from all the places where I have driven you,’ declares the LORD, ‘and I will bring you back to the place from where I sent you into exile.’" (Jer. 29:10-14).

Even in exile, in judgment, in slavery, in the midst of God's wrath--even then, there was hope for them.

A Savior was coming, one who would save them from their sin, who would reunite humanity with a holy Father.

The same holds true for us today. As Peter rejoiced, "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade"(1 Peter 1:3-4).

Hope has come.

Hope is here.

Hope is coming.



**Posting from the archives tonight, as a stomach flu has attacked our house again, a little over a year since our family succumbed last year to a nastier breed of the virus. We pray for healing and are thankful He is Lord of all. 

Keeping Focused Down the Stretch

It's here, that final sprint towards the finish line, golden ribbon coming in sight near the horizon, beckoning us to hurry, hurry, hurry faster through the not-enough-hours-in-the-day burst towards Christmas Day.

It always surprises me, this week.

Even when I choose to make my Christmas smaller, focus on the fewer more meaningful traditions, do tasks earlier, make my gift giving smaller and an investment of myself. Even then, something sends me in a last minute scamper for the perfection I promised myself I wouldn't seek this year.

It might be a can of cream of shrimp soup I forgot when cream of mushroom would suffice. Or a friend coming into town who asks to squeeze into a calendar square. Or downloading a few more blasts from the past to put on my dad's very first Ipod.

Or perhaps it's nothing so trivial, but rather an addition of some act of service to show Jesus' love to others, like making that extra trip into town to deliver a gift card to grandparents who can't afford Christmas for the eleven year old girl they care for. Or stopping in my parking lot rush to dig deep for two wrinkled dollar bills to give the deaf Hispanic woman offering me a red pen, her hands reaching heavenward to sign "God bless."

Or maybe it's the unexpected--like my youngest son spiking 101 fever this evening, indicating something unseen is lurking, waiting for its own chance to usurp center stage. Or the death of a grandma in the middle of Saturday afternoon's bread baking, burial grief to come.

Tonight marks the fourth week of advent. During Week One, we focused on Christ being “our Hope.” During week two, the focus was on Jesus being "the Way." Last week, we sought to remember that Christ is "our Joy."

And now? In the blur of frantic rush, in the brittle unexpected, yes, even in heartache and darkness where death seems more my focus than life? Now, I, we must strive even harder to maintain focus, keep our eyes on the One lying in the manger.

This week, we must remember that Christ is our Peace.

The prophet Isaiah described the coming Messiah:

"For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us;
And the government will rest on His shoulders;
And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Eternal Father, Prince of Peace

There will be no end to the increase of His government or of peace..." (Is. 9:6).

In this poetic litany of adjectives, intentionally last in line, at the end is "Prince of Peace." Yet, the very next line shows it is not least in importance, the ultimate irony that in Christ, peace will ultimately have "no end".

As Christ prepared the disciples for His coming crucifixion, He sought to help them understand this concept, that even in His absence, they could still have His Peace within: "But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said to you. 'Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful'" (Jn. 14:26-27).

Christ was not leaving them alone but would provide the Holy Spirit as a comforter, as an indwelling Spirit to remind them that Christ is peace.

Peace is not a state of mind. It is not dependent on circumstances. Peace is trust in the person of Christ. He can give you and me peace not on either side of a storm but within its raging, not either side of an illness but in its feverish heights. It's all about where our focus is.

The prophet promised, "You [God] will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you" (Is. 26:3).

No matter what we think must be done this week, no matter what seeks to steal our peace or steal center stage, Christ made it clear to Martha: "only one thing is necessary, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her" (Lk. 10:42).

Only One thing is needed. Our focus to be on the Savior. On our Peace.


Image: "A Christmas Blur" from "Nell's Dish Du Jour"

The Real Joy of the Season

The darkness ripples, its inky black turning a lighter hue of grey morning right before golden orb crests and spills life awash over everything it touches.

Such is what happens this night, the third week of Advent. Third purple candle ignites, the three together strong enough to cast a mixture of light and shadow on all the faces surrounding it. The darkness shies away, knowing what is coming...Who is coming.

Tonight marks the third week of advent. During Week One, we focused on Christ being “our Hope.” Last week, the focus is on Jesus being "the Way." And for this third week, we seek to remember that Christ is "our Joy."

The angel who hand delivered the very first Birth Announcements of our Savior's birth to the shepherds called this Word made flesh "good news of great joy which will be for all the people" (Lk. 2:10). Joy had come! They just had to seek and find it in the most unexpected places--a cattle trough.

During His ministry, Christ tried to teach His Disciples how to enter into His joy: "Just as the Father has loved Me, I have also loved you; abide in My love. If you keep My commandments, you will abide in My love; just as I have kept My Father’s commandments and abide in His love. These things I have spoken to you so that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full" (Jn. 15:9-11). Full joy, abiding joy, abundant joy--it was only found through a love relationship with this Person of the trinity.

For the most part, though, the disciples just didn't get it, this joy found in the abiding. They thought it was something tangible to be touched, smelled, tasted, a joy found in Christ's literal kingdom coming to earth in a predictable political fashion.

And so when their Savior died, when the one in whom they placed the hope of all Israel was placed behind a wall of near-immovable rock, they scattered, were inconsolable, joyless.

Only after the Disciples saw the resurrected Christ did they finally understand Christ, Himself, was their joy...not because of what He did for them but because of who He was: "And they, after worshiping Him, returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and were continually in the temple praising God" (Lk. 24:52-53).

To remember who Jesus truly is--our hope, the only way, our chief joy--is the only way to prepare our hearts for this Season of Joy. To experience that joy requires our worship--continual praising of God. Otherwise, our joy will be hollow, only an echo of the pure joy that's found in a Christmas celebrated without Christ.

When we are enduring the temporary trials of this earth and think we cannot enter into the joy of the season, we must worship Him anyway. We should not hide our disappointment from Him or drum up some 10 cent joy from within ourselves.

He knows already.

Instead, we must consciously choose to raise our voice in a song only to Him. Read His Word. Or just bow heads to whisper thanks for His Son before weeping before His throne.

His is the joy that no one can take away (Jn. 16:22).