are you the one?

[5 minutes]

I heard someone say the imprisoned John who wondered if he was trusting the right person to be the Messiah is a lot like us during Advent.

Can I trust you to fix what’s wrong with my world?

You’re a baby. You seem powerless. I envisioned a king and a kingdom, not a child in a manger. Are you big enough to take on the enemy and put everything right?

Now the Baby is all grown up, but Herod’s House is still up to its old shenanigans. Rome’s flags are still planted in sacred soil. All Jerusalem isn’t going out to see John anymore; he’s a has-been. Yesterday’s news. So last year.

Are you the One?

Charles Wesley intoned the groaning plea of the soul-heavy burden of advential waiting in the lyrics of his resurgent Christmas hymn:

Come Thou Long Expected Jesus

Come, thou long expected Jesus,
born to set thy people free;
from our fears and sins release us,
let us find our rest in thee.
Israel’s strength and consolation,
hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation,
joy of every longing heart.

Born thy people to deliver,
born a child and yet a King,
born to reign in us forever,
now thy gracious kingdom bring.
By thine own eternal spirit
rule in all our hearts alone;
by thine all sufficient merit,
raise us to thy glorious throne.

▫️Charles Wesley▫️

Keith Getty remarked,

In the third and fourth lines of this first verse, the words fear and rest are juxtaposed reminding us that Christmas is often a time when our fears are amplified…There is often an unspoken pressure that Christmas must be perfect and harmonious, a time when we can stop and rest and have a break from all the usual stresses of life. And yet the reality is that the Christmas holidays don’t always give us the reprieve that we long for — many of us continue to carry huge burdens and difficulties.

A middle school teacher prayed these words in the aftermath of a deadly shooting at her Christian school this week: “In the depths of our spirits we know you are good, but our hearts are so confused. Our hearts waffle between being angry and afraid and being filled with memories and trauma. God, we don’t know how to manage all of that. We’re just coming to you and saying we need you.”

Since Jesus came, the storylines of human history include crucifixion, persecution, attrition, sedition, addiction, affliction, and a host of other maladies and catastrophes. We longed for a new world, but we’ve been given a world of woe.

There’s no way around the fact that incarnation means coming to a filthy and fetid world…Jesus came into a world where some babies are beloved and nurtured, while some babies are left on street corners or next to dumpsters…He came into a world where young girls and boys are sold into prostitution and refugees spend their lives waiting in squalid camps. It’s a world where white picket fences hold together falling-apart marriages.
It’s a world with disease and mental illness. A fallen creation groans with earthquakes, floods, and fires. We’ve made a mess of our lives and our families and this world. And we live with the fallout of other people’s messes too. Drugs. Death. Destruction. Sorrow, unending sorrow. Flies and vultures buzz over little ones with swollen bellies. Sludge freezes solid and becomes a playground for barefoot children. It is all too dirty, and yet he came near.
– Carrie McKean, Filthy Night, Fetid Night, CT Magazine, December 19, 2023

Are you the One?

Let’s hear Jesus in His own words: “Go tell John…”

Tell John what?

Tell him there are things happening he can’t see right now. There are miracles he’s not aware of. Right under your nose, John, all around you, my Kingdom is advancing, and droves of weary, heavy-laden folks are pressing into it.

Remind John that he leapt in his momma’s womb because of days like this.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, that the little children get it. The bent reeds get it. The smoldering wicks get it. Thank you that the least of these will not be left out.

Thank you for a world of woe that makes us heartsick and homesick for Another World. Thank you for the Incarnate Son of God who knew our grief when he wept at his friend’s tomb. Who expended necessary energy for a humiliated woman who couldn’t stop bleeding. Who tore down a blockade of bazaar kiosks to make space for weary pilgrims to pray. Who noticed a widow drop her last coins in the coffer because her God was bigger than her need. Who cast aside protocol and touched lepers.

You can hardly blame John. One doesn’t get a lot of good news down in Herod’s dungeons. Perspective is challenged when your days are numbered. It’s hard to see anything good when all you know is bad. Does Jesus even know about me down here?

I love that Jesus not only has pity for John, but praise. He’s still my guy. Nobody can hold a candle to John . He did everything that was asked of him and he finished well.

Next time you feel forsaken, consider the man down in Herod’s dungeon. Greater things were happening above ground because he played his part. Even though John’s part landed him in prison, facing execution, he would be gloriously resurrected at the Second Advent.

You are playing your part also, beloved. God’s favor rests on you because you have the Son’s Life in you. Sometimes we play a flute, sometimes we sing a dirge but we do it all because the Baby who came is the Sun of Righteousness who will return with healing in his wings. And we will go out of here leaping like calves released from the stall!

Yes, John, he is the One.

Selah, beloved.

keeping jesus out in front

[6 minutes]

Crazy times, huh?

We know all about mourning in lonely exile down here, don’t we? It’s pretty hard to feel at home in a place that feels so strange nowadays.

The Magi found themselves 1000 miles from home, guided by a shining phenomenon in the sky. Step by step, mile after mile, they kept Jesus out in front for the long haul, following yonder Star.

In time, they arrived at the crossroads of two kingdoms: one in Jerusalem, and the other in Bethlehem. Just so, we awaken each morning and look out on a virtual world that is unyielding and doesn’t keep its promises. Then, as quickly as flipping a switch, we breathe a prayer and find ourselves in the true world of God, a world that is full of Promise, where the Light shines.

A traveling evangelist, John Jacob Niles, happened upon a small North Carolina town years ago when he heard the haunting melody of a song from a “tousled, unwashed blonde, and very lovely” girl. Niles could only understand three lines of verse in her Appalachian dialect:

I wonder as I wander out under the sky,
How Jesus the Savior did come for to die.
For poor on’ry people like you and like I…

He was struck with an idea to expand the lyrics with his own and create a hymn for Advent. The rest is history.

“It’s an unusual song, compelling in its simplicity and musicality. Unlike many carols that ring with joviality, it is set an a minor key, and its final note rings out, unresolved – a fitting tone for lyrics that speak of wandering and wondering, rather than firm answers and clear resolution. In its own unique way, this mournful song captures something beautiful about the Christian life.”
– Kelly B Trujillo

This is a hard, minor key world.

It’s shadowy dark.

Scary at times.

Unpredictable most times.

Walter Brueggemann, in his Devotions For Advent, describes this venue as —

…a world of advertising, of ideology, of euphemism offer[ing] us endless phoniness that coerces and manipulates and invites into a virtual world that has no staying power. You cannot count on such a world, as it will turn on you and cost you dearly.”

We “wonder as we wander” how to best navigate these evil times and avoid such a painful cost.

Here is where the Magi might be of some help.

1. they saw something bigger than themselves and sacrificed everything to pursue it. (v2)

These Magi hailed from the faraway kingdom of Persia. Centuries earlier, Daniel was called a “chief of the Magi” (Dan 5:11) Such men were the embodiment of wisdom, the intelligentsia of the kingdom. To think they would travel so long (likely months) and so far (1000 miles) to visit a newborn is telling.

No doubt these Magi had studied the prophecies of Daniel. It seems likely they were well-versed in those parts that told of a Great King in Israel who would arrive under the SIGN OF A STAR.

…a star shall come out of Jacob,
and a scepter shall rise out of Israel
— Numbers 24:17

The treasures they brought — gold, frankincense, and myrrh — spoke of the unique character and quality of the King. He was a King, but not just any King. Jesus was a divine King, sent from the world of God, whose mission was to rob and plunder satan’s counterfeit kingdom and lead its captives through the doorway into a heavenly realm.

Melchior, Balthasar, and Caspar (if we are to trust tradition) were chasing the BIG STORY of God, keeping the Messiah out in front of their mission. Not even the religious and political power center of Jerusalem could deter them.

So long as they kept Jesus out in front, their steps were ordered, and the glory of God pinpointed where they needed to be.

Which brings me to a second guiding principle to aid us in navigating this tumultuous sod:

2. they stayed their course, guided by the Star, ignoring other competing voices. (v7-12)

Herod was an intimidating character. Extremely paranoid and jealous, he killed anyone whom he deemed a threat to his sovereignty. His veiled interest in a new king raised red flags for these God-seekers.

There are Herods even today who feel their kingdoms are threatened by this other King. They govern us, they have influence over us, they make policy for us, they threaten, force-feed, deceive, pretend, divide, oppress, and “trouble” us a million different ways.

Like the Magi, we must keep King Jesus in front of us. When cultural players and pretenders try to fill the screen of our vision, we must avert our attention and focus on the Light. We have to keep after him. Jesus is our telos.

This is an important truth: if the Lord knows you are on his side, he will guide you, teach you, draw you close, and reveal himself to you intimately. If your heart is bent in his direction, the Lord won’t let you miss him… Even if you get off course now and then.

Whoever has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him.
—John 14:21

The wise men traveled nearly 1000 miles, over the course of months, guided by a supernatural object in the sky. But the Star disappeared when they arrived Jerusalem. The Magi must have asked, “Where is the star? Where did it go? How do we finish the journey?”

Once they re-oriented their bearings to Jesus — the Star reappeared. Oh how they must have rejoiced!

Dear struggling saint, mourning in lowly exile here, trying so hard to follow yonder star, look up. Keep going. Stay the course.

If the supernatural has left your sky, know it’s not a fixed condition. Perhaps it wasn’t intentional, but nevertheless you have found yourself on a different path. The journey isn’t over. There’s a road out of where you are and Jesus is the Way.

And we have the prophetic word more fully confirmed, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the Morning Star rises in your hearts
—2 Peter 1:19

This Advent season — and beyond — let’s keep our bearings on Jesus. May he always be our blessed destination.

Selah, beloved. A Happy Advent to You and yours!

i am a green olive tree

[7 minutes]

But I am like a green olive tree in the house of God. I trust in the steadfast love of God forever and ever.

Psalm 52:8

David wrote this only one chapter removed from his confession to God when a broken, sinful man. The chapters aren’t chronological, of course, but their arrangement seems to be — for me at least — by design.

Looking back over the arc of our lives, we can dredge up seasons when we wondered if we’d ever get past our failures. In other seasons, we’ve known the inestimable joy of intimacy with God we never wanted to end. Hello sanctification.

In Psalm 51 David is the guilty man. In Psalm 52 he is gutted by the crimes of another man — Doeg the Edomite. Doeg brazenly murdered 85 innocent people in cold blood. The slaughtered were priests, together with their wives and children. Their crime? They gave David sanctuary when he was on the run from King Saul. David was beside himself with fury.

“How dare you, Doeg! You will face the wrath of a just God, you dog! You think you’re a big man, all high and mighty, plotting my demise. But it is you who will go down. Me? I’m a green olive tree in God’s house, big boy. You, on the other hand, are kindling for the lake of fire.”

No doubt David was reeling from the news of the priests of Nob and their families. It wasn’t enough for the vile Edomite to kill the priests, he massacred their families too. They died because they all stood with David!

Talk about survivor’s guilt.

selah

In the middle of this painful psalm is a Selah. It’s a strange place for a Selah, sure, but David tacks one on.

You love evil more than good, and lying more than speaking about what is right. Selah

(v3)

Selah.

Catch your breath.

Gather your wits.

Get quiet.

Be still.

John Andrew Bryant has battled mental illness his entire life. His brain never turns off; it is always noisy in there. His affliction is a daily surrender and his dependence upon God for the healing of his mind is evident in his words. John describes finding a “foothold” in those especially stormy times when his brain is firing in all directions.

“What I have in Christ is the simple, painful renunciation of the urges created by my brain, the ability to say no to desires and compulsions that will not just go away. I wish it was more. But that is all it’s been: a foothold in the storm of thought and feelings…that foothold, that boat, that kernel, is not a place where I do something to be okay. It is a place where I don’t. That patient, quiet understanding is the place where I stand with Christ and don’t do anything to make things right or win or be okay. It is the place where I don’t fix, the place where I don’t defend myself, the place where I don’t figure things out, and the place where I don’t know for sure. The place where it is somehow possible to not engage those compulsions. The place I stand with Christ and endure what it feels like to not do those things. The place where I’ve learned to stand with Christ by being quiet.”
A Quiet Mind To Suffer With, p17-18

That is David’s Selah here in the 52nd Psalm. He reminds himself with that Selah that however much evil swirls about him, he is not its victim. He must not surrender to it. Lady Macbeth told her husband to “screw his courage to the sticking place,” and this appears to be what David – albeit righteously – was telling himself to do.

I am tempted to substitute the name Jesus where I see a Selah in scripture. I don’t think it breaks any rules, personally.

My heart is broken. Jesus.

I’m hanging on by a thread. Jesus.

Lord, I don’t understand. Jesus.

My only hope is you. Jesus.

This too shall pass. Jesus.

Once upon a time, twelve men sat for an important gospel meal. The scene was humming with observable tension as it was the last Passover in which Jesus would take part. While he was speaking, John, we are told, leaned against his Messiah’s breast. Although the atmosphere was charged, the beloved disciple anchored himself to the Rock.

Think of Selah, then, as pressing into Jesus. Selah, where you don’t fix or defend or try to figure out. You listen. You wait. You trust. You are still.

Like a tree.

a green olive tree

David imagines himself in verse 8 as a tree, but not just any tree. He is God’s tree, a temple tree. He was a well-manicured olive tree, not some scrub tree out in the wild. His roots were resolutely screwed into the sticking place of holy soil.

David, consummate lover of nature, appreciated the beautiful trees in Jerusalem. Adorning the temple grounds, no doubt, were flowering olive trees whose aroma misted the air. He knew they provided the oil for worship in the holy place and said “I’m one of those trees.”

Before I’m anything, I’m a worshipper of God. The Lord made me to love him and enjoy him forever. Doegs and Sauls and Goliaths come and go, but I’m rooted in the faithfulness of God.

The thing about olive trees: they are capable of surviving the worst that life can dish out. There’s an olive tree in Crete that is close to 3,000 years old. Believe me, it’s seen some stuff. Paul was shipwrecked by a horrible storm that drove him into the sands of Crete in Acts 27. That tree is still producing olives today.

I’m one of those trees. I’m precious to God. He is invested in protecting me, so I will not be defeated by those who wish ill upon me. The times I’m living in will not get the best of me. I’m living in the Land of Selah.

Let that cruel dog Doeg and his ilk be who they are, they won’t affect me. They can choose evil but I will stay planted here in the garden of the Lord.

What are you going through right now, beloved? What’s got your goat? Who’s oppressing you? That hard thing in your life may be a person, it may be a condition, it may be a situation. Your hardship hurts even more because it’s out of your control and it’s not letting up. I get it.

Step back like David did and see the bigger picture. See a Land called Selah. Can you see it? Now look closer and see a City in that Land called Peace. Picture yourself there, planted in its soil, loved and cherished and protected by God. You may not think so, but you are thriving. It may feel like you’re losing, but God sees olives in you.

Let them cancel you. Let the situation play out. Ignore the lying voices inside your head. Screw your courage to the sticking place and hang your hope on the sure peg of Selah. Hollywood is going to be what it is. Politicians will be who they are. The world and its pleasures are passing away; let them go the way of the dust. Stand your ground, Olive Tree. It’s okay. He’s got this. He’s got you. You’re safe. Just be still, stay rooted, and “trust in his unfailing love” (v8).

Selah, beloved. Jesus.