I Came, I Saw, I Made Brownies --Luke 2:16-20

“So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.” (Luke 2:16-20) NIV

Random Thoughts:

For those of us who don’t speak Latin (a show of hands would include me), “veni, vidi, vici” are the still-famous words penned by Julius Caesar boasting of a swift military victory meaning “I came, I saw, I conquered”. And while God’s shepherd-messengers were certainly not involved in military maneuvers, I think their swift response to go, to see the messiah-child and then to report the good news, essentially “conquering” the hearts and igniting the hopes of the people around them, might have been a victory of a greater kind. A victory that begins with simple obedience to God’s word.

Hearing the good news of the messiah’s birth, the shepherds’ response to God’s word was so immediate! When others were previously told of the messiah’s coming, there was at least some debate--some questions--but we are not given any indication that these men scratched their heads or paused to ruminate the whys and hows. Elated by what they have been told, they hurry to find the child, they see the truth for themselves and then they spread the word, their good news amazing all who hear it.  

Question:

Is God revealing truths to you that require your immediate response? What keeps you from acting promptly when God nudges you?

Journal Response:

I wish I could be like the shepherds. If there is one thing I am not, it is swift when it comes to obedience. Of course God knows our natures and seems to wait patiently while those of us with “issues” explain why we can’t do this or delay our response wanting to know why. My kids are like that too. Serves me right. But God's patience doesn't last forever; there comes a point where we have to do a Nike and "just do it". 

Today Pastor Brian’s sermon challenged me to think about areas where I am weak and to do something about it. To just do it.  Am I in a group where I can be supported in prayer, share who I really am and not be boo-ed out of existence? Check. Am I in communication with God each day through reading scripture and spending some time talking with him in prayer? Mostly. Yup. How about influence? How is the shepherd-response in my life going? Do I take what God is telling me and pass it on? 

I want to check that off my To Do list but I hesitate. Yes, I am writing this blog. But I am a total wimp when it comes to talking about God in my life with real flesh and blood, breathing, human beings. Why? The same weakness shows in the area of service--actual hands-on acts of love that demonstrate in a tangible way that somebody cares because God does. Why?

What is it about tangible, human connection that makes me pause? I’d like to blame my genetic code. Could be pretty convincing. Or how about my fear of failure? That always stops me cold. Or maybe the "why" just doesn’t matter. Even if I know the answer, will it change the response? The point is, what am I going to do about it?

One of my neighbors died this week. John was a quiet old man living alone on our street until the last few years he was in a nursing home. Hard of hearing, unable to drive, he nevertheless made a unique contribution to our neighborhood. Every week, no matter the weather, he dutifully rose before most of us, dragged out our garbage cans to the curbs and then put them back again when the sanitation trucks had done their part. Every week, like clockwork. Whether we saw him or not, we knew John was there, still making his contribution to our little corner of the world.

This Tuesday, I thought of John as I dragged my empty cans back to my garage, shivering in the single-digit cold. And then just yesterday, I learned that he died this week at age 94. There will be no funeral. No memorial. And I wondered about his soul. Where is he now?

God prompted me a few years ago to spend time with John. To take him brownies (he loved chocolate), to let him talk about his wife and to invite him to come to church with us if he ever wanted a ride. He never took up our invitation but I left him with information, cable channel schedules to watch our church services if ever he felt so inclined. 

I don’t know where John is today. I know God never gives up and perhaps John continued to receive God’s message through others he met at the home where he moved. But hearing about John's passing was a reminder to me to not let my fear of failure or my DNA--or whatever it is that gives me pause--keep me from connecting with real, live people. So God's message to me? I think it's time to make more brownies.

A God After Our Own Heart

Okay, “Uncle”. I said it. Happy? The fact is, being an A- personality, I may really really want to press on toward to the goal of completing Luke in a year but am just impulsive enough to detour when God gets my attention with something else. Today is a “something else” day. It’s Psalms 26. 

Frankly, when I read it this morning, I did one of my classic eye-rolls toward heaven and said, “Are you serious?”, because at first glance, David’s words seem too egotistical even for the typical confident-male. He’s led a blameless life? He’s never faltered? He’s always been mindful? Or how about washing his hands in innocence. That’s a good one. What am I supposed to do with this? This is David, after all. You know, the guy who’s spiritual blind side got him involved with another man’s wife that led to murder. And we know, being human, that that was only one flaw in the man’s life. No one is perfect.

But then I read it again. (This is especially helpful if you haven’t had your caffeine in the morning.) And each time I read it I saw the emphasis beginning to change. This psalm was less an expression of David’s delusions of grandeur and more of a love letter to God. 

In verse one he demands vindication. About what? Himself? At first reading, maybe. There’s a lot of “I” statements, after all. “I have trusted, I have always, I have led...” But what is the object of his “I” statements? What is it David is right to be vindicated about? God’s character. A life spent praising a god in whom he can trust, a god of unfailing love and faithfulness rather than a life of bribes, blood and evil is a life worth living because a god like that is worth praising and living for.

And while at first sounding holier-than-thou critical of the hypocrites, evildoers and the wicked, it turns out that David isn’t actually comparing his righteousness with others. He is juxtaposing lives lived without God to a life rescued by God. This isn’t about his righteousness. It’s about celebrating God’s forgiveness of those who need it. Like him. David washes his hands in the innocence God offers on the altar of sacrifice. In the act of receiving forgiveness, David praises God for all the wonderful things He has done.

This wasn’t about David. At least not at its heart. This is about God. And then in verse 8 and 9, David tells us why. “Lord, I love the house where you live, the place where your glory dwells. Do not take away my soul...” David adores God. He loves God’s presence. He really does live for him in every way he can and the worst thing he can imagine is losing him in death for all eternity. He pleads for God’s mercy and redemptive love, recognizing that he is in need of both. 

This isn’t about tooting his own horn; this is about loving someone so much you don’t want to say goodbye. There is a reason David was called a man after God’s own heart. 

Even more wonderful is realizing that God is after our hearts too. In sacrificing His own son on the altar of a cross 2,000 years ago, we can also have a life transformed by forgiveness, by  innocence. Like David, when we put our trust in God's sacrifice, Jesus, He transfers His innocence to us. And our lives are changed in the here and now and for the next to come. 

A man after God’s own heart. And a God after ours. That's worth celebrating.

Red Letter Day Luke 2:12-15

“This will be a sign to you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Suddenly a great company of heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.’ When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.’” (Luke 2:12-15) NIV

Random Thoughts:

God wants to be found. And most of the time, we want to find Him. Trouble is, finding God often means setting aside our preconceived notions of what that will look like. Imagine being told we will find God in the squalid conditions of a dirty animal stall? Would we see Him?  Or imagine that God entrusts his most precious message for humanity to an illiterate, impoverished band of sheep herders? Would we hear it?

For those of us raised in the church I think we expect--and with good intentions--hope to first discover God within the walls of our place of worship whether it’s during an evangelical program or during catechism when we turn 12. Some even schedule the dates and times of  “revival” on calendars, programming the arrival and work of the Holy Spirit himself.

For some of us, God will meet us for the first time in those places and during those moments. But I think for many of us God finds us when we least expect it and He reveals Himself in a way that takes us by surprise. 

When God finds us on His terms it reminds us that He is not a God we make in our own image who conforms to our limited notions of who He is and how He works. We often want to “civilize” our God, to make Him manageable, predictable and safe. But He is none of those. He comes to us when our own ways and means aren’t working; He asks us to rethink our spiritually grand expectations to accept His humility; and He asks us to embrace all His messengers both the heavenly and the most down-to-earth. 

On the Outside Looking Inn Luke 2:6-11

“While they were there the time came for the baby to be born and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger because there was no guest room available for them. And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.” (Luke 2:6-11) NIV

Random Thoughts:

This is a Kodak moment of Biblical proportions. You know the one--where robed people wear serene smiles, candles cast halos of light, Gernsey cows look adoringly on as beautiful winged angels strum harps in a twilight heaven because all is right with the world. But I suspect the original readers of Luke’s letter would have seen it very differently.

And, truth to tell, anyone who has ever experienced the hardship of delivering a child or the realities of working with livestock (both very good things in their own right) would also know one really should not go with the other. Ever. And so I have to wonder if Mary and Joseph struggled to understand how this could be happening to them? How the God of the Universe who so recently performed miracles was now seemingly incapable of getting a hotel reservation? Or of bringing forth his son at a time and place where at least they would have the help and support of family? I wonder if they wondered?

This story just seems all wrong. The Messiah who will bring great joy to all the people begins his earthly life shut out by the very people he came to save, birthed instead, by an inexperienced first-time mother and her inexperienced fiance in a pen with animals. Why did they have to be so alone? And the God of the Universe sends his angels to announce the great news to shepherds, a cast of people considered so unclean and unacceptable that they too, living with animals, are shut off from their community. Why send the world’s greatest announcement to these outcasts? 

Perhaps it goes back to the very beginning to the foolish couple who managed to get themselves locked out of the Garden. God has always had a heart for those on the outside looking in. In choosing to bring us home where we can truly belong, he also chooses, as part of the process to be like us, one who understands what it is to be locked out and rejected from the connection we long for, from those we love. To be on the outside looking in. Because when Creator God chooses to experience the pain of this broken world we are enabled to believe He truly cares and understands. 

Because he really does.

"Mission Accomplished!" Luke 2:1-5

“In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.” (Luke 2:1-5) NIV

Random Thoughts:

Like a verbal Google Earth view of the ancient Roman world, Luke zooms us in from the expansive and powerful to the seemingly small and insignificant. Panning the vast empire and power that is Caesar Augustus our focus narrows to Quirinius, governor of Syria then to Joseph, a simple jewish man in an occupied land, then to his fiance Mary, an unwed teenager and finally to her unborn child, folded and curled unseen in his mother’s womb. 

The self-proclaimed “August” one, the caesar-who-would-be-god is juxtaposed with the One who truly is. So begins the journey of turning our world view of power and paradigms of God’s kingdom upside down as we hear how He takes the foolish things of this world to confound the wise. And what could be more foolish than taking on a world super-power with only a unwed mother, a seeming-bastard son born into a back-water province of no consequence? Nothing. And that’s the point.

God’s “foolishness” is about the confound the “wise”.

Fuzzy Slippers and Gummy Worms Luke 1:76-79

“And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High; for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him, to give his people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins because of the tender mercy of our God by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death to guide our feet onto the path of peace.” (Luke 1:76-79) NIV

Random Thoughts:

Zachariah had insider information. Before his child was born he knew the baby’s gender (pretty impressive in a day without ultrasound) and even more importantly, he knew his son’s purpose and the gifts he would possess. Even before he was born, little John was filled with and gifted by God’s Holy Spirit.

And by the Spirit, John would be a prophet. A speaker of truth. An evangelist. His gifts would be used by God to prepare a long-suffering people to see themselves and God differently. To see their need for a messiah and to recognize that messiah when he would come.

And when God sent his Son to briefly shine his light on humanity to direct us to the path of peace with Him, he gave us something else as well. To those who call him “Lord” he left his Spirit. 

God, as it turns out, does not reserve his purpose and his plans for some special, religious and pious “gifted” elite. He, in His wisdom gives each of us a unique purpose and the ability to accomplish that purpose when we come into his family. And while our gifts may be quite different from another’s (after all, we can’t all be like John, wearing animal skins, eating locusts and living in the wilderness), our gifts from God are no less important or necessary. 

The hard part is knowing which gift or gifts God’s Spirit has given to us and how He wants them to be used. For John it was pretty well understood. For most of us, however, we must listen to God’s leading more carefully. After all, God’s ways are seldom our ways and His thoughts often confound us. Good thing we have Luke to help us on our journey.

The Pause that Refreshes

Okay. I’m really not going to make a habit of this but this is detour number two. I can’t help it. I planned to continue with Luke today (1:76) but am still experiencing writer’s block from Friday. So I decided to just warm up with a read in my own personal time in psalms. Only today’s psalm was the big one. Psalm 23. This did not make me happy. 

As I approached perhaps the most well-known, oft-quoted, uber-famous passage in all of scripture--you know, the psalm of David many of us can recite from the time of our childhood--I was Skeptical (sister-twin to its hormonally-charged sibling, Cynicism). Not a good place to be. So I prayed, “Father, please help me to see something in this you want me to see--” and began to read it out loud. Once. (Really, what I’m I going to get out of something so familiar?!) Then twice. 

And suddenly a phrase struck me. “He refreshes my soul”. 

Then another. “He makes me lie down”. 

And more. “He leads...”; “He guides...”; “You prepare a table...”; “You annoint...”.

This wasn't sounding right. Where was my part in all of this? So often my focus is on what God wants me to do. What He expects from me. How I am supposed to serve Him, serve others and do and give and offer and even be. And yes, those are really, really good things (especially if I could pull them off!). But this song isn’t about what I do. David’s song is celebrating what God does for him. And for me. But how many times do I not get that because I’m too busy doing and being about something else? 

God cares about my needs, my fears, my gotta-go, gotta-do, gotta-run mentality. He cares about my soul’s condition. And He knows I need rest. I don’t know how to refresh my soul. He does. So He invites me to lie down. He leads me to a quiet, peaceful place. There, in those moments, He guides me in my life decisions. He prepares a table for me, abundant with things He knows I need. He anoints me--choosing me even as I am--to be His very own. And He assures me (despite the many voices that tell me otherwise) that His goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life.

Our puritan brothers and their work ethic were wonderful. We are indebted to them in so many ways--not just for the annual cooking frenzy that is our beloved Thanksgiving with its deep-fried turkeys and fourteen kinds of pie--but in our lifestyle as well. Our never-ending gotta do, gotta run, gotta achieve kind of thinking has given us a collective standard of living unlike any in all of human history (and hypertension to go with it but that’s another story). 

But God calls us to stop and be refreshed. To stop. To pause. Only when we are quiet and still can he lead us and guide us toward the life He wants for us. And in so doing, we are able to hear in those times of quiet, away from all the noise of a frenzied life, the assurance that we are loved, protected in his purpose in spite of circumstance and in return, we get to do one very, very important thing. We get to live in His house forever. 

Question:

Where is God inviting you to lie down, to drink from still waters--apart from the noisy routine of your life--to refresh your soul? 

If You're Happy and You Know It...Luke 1:69-75

“He has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David (as he said through his holy prophets of long ago), salvation from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us--to show mercy to our ancestors and to remember his holy covenant the oath he swore to our father Abraham: to rescue us from the hand of our enemies, and to enable us to serve him without fear in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.” (Luke 1:69-75) NIV

Random Thoughts:

This is the first time I realized Zechariah is singing a song. So was Mary and so was Elizabeth earlier in this chapter. It’s as if Luke is writing a version of Jesus Christ, Superstar but with much better theology. But why singing? Why these poetic devises in the middle of Luke’s historical account of Christ’s life? Perhaps because there is no better way to celebrate something of significance. We sing to celebrate life at birthdays, we sing to celebrate unions at weddings, we sing to say goodbye at funerals. Singing is the exclamation point to a message that words alone cannot convey. Singing comes from the soul.

And Zechariah soul is celebrating. It is singing about a God who can be trusted to keep His word and all that that will mean for humanity’s future. God’s mercy and justice, power and protection are all on a collision course with human history to transform our relationship with Him from one of brokenness and fear to one of wholeness and peace. To see the face of God--man’s highest hope--and live before Him all our days? This is something worth singing about.

The Rest of the Story

I’m taking a detour. This morning during my progression through the Psalms (yep, I’m doing that in addition to Luke but not to worry--I won’t be including those each day!) I saw something that just floored me. 

All these years I have heard prophetic phrases quoted from the Old Testament that foreshadowed Christ’s life. Little bits here and there that Christ himself used to show his disciples that his life and his purpose were part of a plan God laid out long before, evidenced by the words of the prophets. But somehow it all seemed so academic. Until today.

Too Good to be True Luke 1:64-68

“Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue was loosed and he began to speak, praising God. The neighbors were all filled with awe and throughout the hill country of Judea people were talking about all these things. Everyone who heard this wondered about it asking, ‘What then is this child going to be?’ For the Lord’s hand was with him. His father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and prophesied: Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel, because he has come to his people and redeemed them.” (Luke 1:64-68) NIV

Random Thoughts:

Just as Gabriel predicted months before, Zechariah’s tongue (silenced for his unbelief in God’s ability to keep his promises) is loosed at the very instant he names his son “John” according to God’s will. And in answer to the question on everyone else’s tongue, “What then is this child going to be?”, Zechariah’s first words utter the answer: part of God’s promise. 

What I love even more about Zechariah’s response is that the first word out of his mouth  in nine months is the Hebrew equivalent of “Awesome!”. He praises God for the awesome truth he now understands. God keeps his promises, no matter how long it has taken and no matter how impossible it may seem.

Not only are Zechariah and Elizabeth recipients of God’s wonderful blessing--a child in their old age--they are blessed with the greatest blessing of all: poised on the historical edge of seeing the promise of God come true. The promise God made to Abraham. The promise made even further back in the garden. God is about to rescue humanity itself and this time, Zechariah is bursting with joy because he knows something he didn’t know before. He knows God can do it.