the susie solution

Ps. 33: 10-12  “The LORD brings the counsel of the nations to nothing; He frustrates the plans of the peoples.  The counsel of the LORD stands forever, the plans of His heart to all generations.  Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD, the people whom He has chosen as His heritage!”

Remember growing up, back in P.E. class, choosing teams for games?   The teacher would assign two captains, usually the two most athletic of the kids present.  Then, alternating, one by one, the captains got to pick their teams.  The “pool” of pick–ees fell into three categories.  The majority of the kids were in the “middling” category, such that either side could reasonably make use of them.  The rest fell into two categories:  the first picks that the team leaders fought over who got to HAVE them, and the rest of us, the ones the captains fought over who got STUCK with.  Occasionally a captain would make a first pick one of us who wasn’t very good because we were good buddies, but if that leader were competitive at all, friendship came up short when weighed against the ability to help the team win.  

That’s how the world chooses its teams:  being good at the particular factor needed for the task.   Athletes who can run faster, jump higher, shoot straighter, hit harder.  Actors who can turn even so-so scripts into memorable movies.  Musicians who can … well, we’ll skip that one.  Considering many of the music stars today, I have no idea what the world is looking for!  Leaders with good looks, charisma, the ability to pitch a good sound-bite.  Men and women who epitomize the world’s standards of beauty.  The world likes larger-than-life winners.

God, of course, makes his choices the opposite way.  He deliberately chooses the ones the world rejects, overlooks, or disdains.  He chooses the most unlikely, flawed, and “everyman” heroes.  God chose Israel to be HIS people, but it wasn’t because they were a likely candidate for Most Favored Nation.  They were never a terribly numerous people; even at their height, they were a small nation.  They certainly weren’t strong; they were often outgunned and outmanned.  They certainly weren’t more faithful.  Even by the time of the exodus they had nearly forgotten the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  And their behavior on the journey to the Promised Land and then IN the Promised Land?  Not too promising, as “chosen people” go.  God’s reasons for choosing that people had nothing to do with any intrinsic value that lay in the Israelites, and everything to do with demonstrating HIS own power.  There’s no other explanation for the Jews’ survival!

The first two Psalm verses here provide an interesting point-to-point contrast.  “The LORD brings the counsel of the nations to nothing” is contrasted to “The counsel of the LORD stands forever”.  “…He frustrates the plans of the peoples” stands beside “…the plans of His heart [stand] to all generations.”  It is THESE verses that are followed by the ringing assertion of the blessing that sits on Israel because it has been chosen by God.  Israel was not blessed because they had prayer in school, taught the Torah as their curriculum, put His name in a national motto on their money, and proclaimed that they had chosen Him as their God.  Israel’s God was the Lord, not because they chose Him, but because GOD chose THEM. Israel was blessed because they, and no other nation, had been chosen as His heritage.  The ultimate blessing for Israel?  They would be the one nation from whom would come the Savior of the nations.

The Roman Empire seems an unlikely tool in the hand of God, yet so it was.  Seen from a worldly point of view, the Roman conquest wasn’t a positive experience for those under that conquest, yet, seen from God’ point of view, it set the stage for Christ’s birth and the spread of the Gospel in ways that no other time in history had.  To ensure communication and the rapid deployment of troops wherever needed,  the Romans built an incredible transportation infrastructure across the entire Empire.  The “pax Romana” meant that travel along that infrastructure was generally safe (except for the occasional bandit), unlike trying to travel through warring territories.   Latin became a ‘lingua franca” that was spoken by a good portion of the population throughout the Empire, making communication easier between peoples of different regions.   All these elements were set in play before Christ made His entrance.

 As we near the Christmas story itself, we see even more details of how God used the world’s plans to accomplish his own.  The Roman rulers placed sub-rulers in its various territories of conquest.  They didn’t much care just how those governors managed their internal affairs, as long as they saw to it that the proper taxes were collected and forwarded to the Roman coffers, and that the peace was kept so that minimum military expenditure was necessary.  It was in relation to the first object that Caesar Augustus gave his decree for the census to be taken.  He wanted to be sure he was really getting everything that was due him.  From the point of view of those affected by the decree, this was a hardship and just one more thing to hate about Rome.  Yet it was this decree that sent Joseph and Mary from Nazareth to Bethlehem, the very place foretold some 400 years earlier for the Saviour’s birth.    

When the wise men showed up seeking the one born to be the “King of the Jews”, once again Satan stepped in to attempt to destroy God’s plan and His people.   Rather than submitting to the new King, Herod ordered what he intended to be His slaughter.   Herod’s plan was to protect his own throne from what he feared was a usurper; Herod was, of course, a patsy because his throne was never in danger from Jesus.  Satan’s plan was to protect HIS kingdom from what he knew would be a fatal blow from the “Seed of the woman.”  Since Herod never knew just which child the wise men found, he would never have been sure that his slaughter had actually removed the feared threat.  Satan, though, knew well that his Foe had survived.

So Satan used yet another Roman ruler, Pontius Pilate, to (as he thought) finish the job.  Pontius Pilate, too, feared for his position as ruler – not from any threat he felt from Jesus, but because Pilate knew that if Jerusalem erupted in riot, necessitating the call-out of troops, there would be repercussions.  If the riot were to be accompanied by accusations that, in letting Jesus live, he was abetting rebellion against Rome?  He would surely not only be removed from office, but likely executed.  Better that an innocent man die than that he, himself, run such a risk!  So, Jesus’ life, begun under threat death from Rome, in the end died by the hand of Rome.  From the world’s point of view, mission accomplished:  threat to Roman peace averted.  From Satan’s point of view, mission accomplished:  Chosen One eliminated, the ultimate blessing of the people of Israel denied.  From God’s point of view?  The REAL mission accomplished: the crèche finding its fulfillment on the cross, the blessing of the people of Israel brought to fruition, death itself slain, sin’s debt wiped out.  God’s purpose set from the foundation of the world could not be overcome.

The people of Israel were blessed, for from them came the Savior, and God still has a purpose for His people, but those of us who have been grafted in to that Root are now also part of that inheritance, the “chosen race, a royal priesthood, a people for His own possession, that you may proclaim the exellencies of Him Who called you out of darkness to His marvelous light.”

As we celebrate the birth of the Christ child, let us take heart anew that no matter what the world may plan, no matter how circumstances may seem from where we stand, no matter what Romes, or Herods, or Pilates may stand against us, God’s plans, and no others, will stand firm forever.

Ps. 29:1, 11  “Ascribe to the LORD, O heavenly beings, ascribe to the LORD glory and strength.  Ascribe to the LORD the glory due His name; worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness. …  May the LORD give strength to His people!  May the LORD bless His people with peace!”

One of the Christmas movies we watch every year is “Silent Night” starring Linda Hamilton.  Based on an actual event, it tells a story from World War II.  On Christmas Eve, during what would come to be known as the Battle of the Bulge, three American soldiers and three German soldiers all sought refuge in a snow storm at the hunting cabin occupied by a German woman and her young son.  She agrees to shelter them, on one condition:  that they leave their guns – and their war – outside.  The soldiers agree, and what follows as the evening unfolds is a journey from seeing each other only as “Krauts” or “Americans”, only as “the enemy”, to seeing each other as men, with family, history, with dreams and hopes for the future.  As the woman’s son narrates, he realizes that under other circumstances, these men could have been friends, even family.  In the morning, the men part with a new respect for each other, and a changed perspective on the value of the lives lost in the war.

During the Civil War, there were times when the opposing forces were camped on either side of a river so close to each other that when one camp began singing a Christmas carol, the other joined in.  There are stories of similar episodes of peace in other wars, fragments of time when Christmas brought a momentary lull in the brutality of death and destruction.  These are moving stories.  I admit I tear up reading them.  I get misty-eyed at “Silent Night” despite having watched it so many, many times now!  Yet the sad truth is that, once those Christmas moments were over, the fighting resumed just the same as ever.  Those men who sang carols together one night were killing each other with just as much ferocity the next day.  The world’s peace just doesn’t last.

Most of us have never faced that severe of a situation, of course, but the theme of this season, even in the quotidian flow of our lives is “peace”, a laying aside of petty quarrels, of being nice to one another, of being generous and forgiving.   The Christmas movie industry is kept busy churning out new ways to exemplify it.  Our Christmas cards proclaim it.  Even Santa’s “naughty or nice” lists promote it.  Yes, we’re all for peace and goodwill.  That is, until someone says “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas” – then ask any store checker who is required to give the generic greeting just how much peace and goodwill they get.  That is, until there’s a sale on the It Toy of the year – then see how much peace and goodwill is exhibited in the frantic rush to empty the shelves.  That is, until Uncle Joe brings up politics at Christmas dinner – then see how much peace and goodwill is shown in the argument that ensues.  Somehow, there are a million things that can blow our “peace” right out of the water.  The world’s peace just doesn’t last.

Even many non-Christians are familiar with the angels’ line of “peace, goodwill to men”.  In and of itself, it sounds warm and fuzzy and innocuous.  However, that’s only the second half of the herald (announcement) the angels sang, and, as in so many things, without the first part of their anthem, the second is meaningless. “There appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, goodwill toward men on whom His favor rests.”  Before the peace comes the praise; before the goodwill, comes the giving of glory.  As the Psalm today says, the mighty ones, the heavenly beings, the chorus from the very throne room of God first appeared to praise Him, to ascribe to the LORD the glory due His name.  Without acknowledging God for Who He is, there can be no true peace, for it is only FROM God that true peace comes. 

The peace the world gives from its “spirit of Christmas” is temporary at best because it is based on humanity, and humanity is a frail, unreliable foundation.  The peace Christ gives is as permanent and ever-present as He Himself, but it is only when we join the host that made the very skies ring with their “Glory to God in the highest!” that our hearts will be fully prepared for that peace in its fullness.

Ps. 28:7a  “The LORD is my strength and my shield; in Him my heart trusts, and I am helped.”

It’s been hard to think about Christmas for the last few days.  We take a daily paper, but I very seldom listen to radio, and stopped watching TV news after 9/11, nor do I keep an eye out on web news sites during the day.  So, as usual, I first heard of the breaking news Friday via a Facebook post, as a young friend who does keep tabs on web news posted her thoughts and prayers “for all the parents of Sandy Hook.”  A quick google and there it was, in all its unfolding horror.

In their usual rush to get “the scoop”, the news media got a lot wrong in that first day or so, but with time, facts have gotten straightened out.  With many shootings, as days pass, and more information comes out, an explanation emerges.  The explanation is often one that outrages us, but either it makes the horror at least somehow semi-comprehensible, or it at least points out weaknesses in the system that need to be fixed, or policies or procedures that need to be changed, giving us a course of action into which we may pour our energies.  This case, so far as we know at this point, though, is different.  This wasn’t yet another case of a dangerously mentally ill patient whose parents had tried and tried to get help for but who had been failed by the system.  There’s no psychiatrist who will be hung out to dry for not being prescient enough to head off the shooter’s actions.  This wasn’t a case of a bullying victim who’d had all he could take and sought revenge on his tormentors and the rest of the world.  There are no anguished friends grieving that, “I should have seen this coming.  I should have said something.”  There’s fodder for the gun control debate, but there’s nothing we can latch onto for an explanation. 

The Christmas narrative contains the story of another mass murder of children.  Although Luke tells us why Herod ordered the execution, and why he chose the age parameter that he did, there’s nothing to indicate that the parents in Bethlehem and the region around were privy to the information.  The visit of the Magi would have been no secret, of course.  In a big place like Jerusalem, center of so much commerce and trade, their presence might not provoke that much notice, but in a small provincial village such as Bethlehem?  Small town life is small town life, no matter where you go.  Joseph and Mary’s visitors would have provided fodder for talk for quite some time.  Then, too, there was the precipitate departure of Joe and Mary right after their visitors said bye-bye.   “They were such a nice young couple, too.  Very odd how they packed up and left like that.  My Moses used to play with their little Jesus, you know.”  And life went on.  Until it didn’t.  Until that one day when the Roman soldiers showed up and inexplicably began going house to house searching for male infants and toddlers, and the screams of the children as they died blended with the screams of their parents as they tried to protect their precious little ones.  Not only Bethlehem, but the whole region, reeled in the blood reek.   

All parents at some time tell their children as they grow up that “life isn’t ‘fair’”, but when we adults face events such as Sandy Hook, when we consider the slaughter at Bethlehem, the words stick in our throat.  The world asks “Why???”, but since it addresses the question into a meaningless void, any answer it gets is equally meaningless.  Christians, too, ask, “Why?”, but since we address our question to the God of the universe, to our heavenly Father, to our loving and gracious Lord, to the One in Whom lies ALL meaning, one would think that the answer we get would be satisfying and complete.  One would think.  Yet in reality, especially for events like this, if we get an answer at all, that answer will be …..  insufficient. 

Oh, you can talk about God’s “permissive” will vs. His “directive” will.  You can talk about the “tapestry” He’s weaving and how He needs the different colors of threads to make the pattern.  You can talk about Joseph and how “you meant it for evil but God meant it for good.”  You can quote “God is too kind to be cruel and too wise to make a mistake.”   But for those in the midst of tragedy, none of these – all of these – are simply not enough. 

It’s not that there isn’t an explanation.  It’s not that there isn’t a “meaning”.  Any answer God can give us is insufficient because He is an infinite God, and we aren’t.  We can never hope to understand His thoughts, even if He were to tell them to us.  If we predicate our faith on understanding the “whys” of this life, we are doomed to disappointment.  The only thing that ultimately matters is “Who”.  When explanations fall short, as they invariably do, when the world makes no sense – and maybe faith and God the least sense of all – it all comes down to trust:  either we trust God or we don’t.  It’s as simple as that.  Simple – but not necessarily easy.

Some of the parents in Bethlehem undoubtedly railed at God, raising their fists against Him, “Why didn’t you protect my little one?”, seeing in the events evidence of His having abandoned His people.  Some probably tried to find some kind of explanation within themselves, “God must be punishing me for something.”  Some may have just decided that there was no God.  But some must have been of the faithful, of the Zechariahs and Elizabeths, the Josephs and Marys, of the Davids, of the Job who said, “The LORD has given, and the LORD has taken away.  Blessed be the Name of the LORD.”  That’s trust.

Trust doesn’t make loss hurt less.  It doesn’t make life be “fair”.  It doesn’t make the world make sense.  Trust looks life’s brutality square in the face, yet strengthens our hearts with the confidence that God’s reality is far greater than what we can see. 

Though we are as “Rachel weeping for her children, because they are not”, trust reminds us that I AM.

I’m combining thoughts from yesterday and today’s Psalms.

Ps. 25: 5, 21  “Lead me in Your truth and teach me, for You are the God of my salvation; for You I wait all the day long. …  May integrity and uprightness preserve me, for I wait for you.”

Ps. 26: 8  “Oh, LORD, I love the habitation of your house and the place where your glory dwells.”

Waiting.  Sometimes life seems like one waiting game after the other.  We wait for our computers to load.  We queue up for our java fix.  We wait for the ramp meter light to go green so we can hurry down and join the rest of the traffic that is … waiting to move.  We get in line at the check stand and hope there won’t be someone fumbling with his change, trying to organize her million coupons, or who picked up the one item on the shelf without its proper UPC code.  Anyone with lots of health problems knows all too well the medical waiting game, whose general rule of thumb is: the longer it takes to get an appointment in the first place, the longer you will spend sitting in the waiting room or the exam room, or both.  Pregnancy is another wait.  I kept telling God that with each pregnancy, He should cut the length of it in half.  The first one, sure, you need that 9 months to prepare, but after that?  By the time I had my fifth, I was ready to have that baby two weeks after I knew I was pregnant!  

Some of us are very good at waiting and seldom seem ruffled by having to do it, regardless of the circumstances; some of us are terrible at waiting, no matter what the wait is for; for most of us, I think, the circumstances make all the difference.   A wait we volunteer for, such as braving a long shopping line for an amazing deal on something we really want, may find us reaching the checkout with goodwill intact.  When a wait is imposed on us, such as an unexpectedly long wait at the checkout when we’re in a hurry, it’s a whole different story!  Many of us may start muttering after a matter of mere seconds.  I’ve seen people walk away from grocery carts in line because of a hitch at the checkout that went on for several minutes, saying, “This isn’t worth the wait!”  Sometimes, the difference lies in what we’re waiting for.  If we know for sure there will be plenty of food left at the buffet table by the time we get there, we don’t get nearly as impatient about waiting, but if we’re worried that they’re going to run out, anxiety sets in. 

In the Christmas story, one of the bit-part players is Anna.  We’re told that she lived with her husband for 7 years.  Assuming she was probably around 15 when she was married, that would mean she became a widow at around 22.  Being widowed so young, it wouldn’t have been surprising if she’d married again; in fact, it would have been expected.  Women had few options for supporting themselves, so marriage was generally the key to having a home to live in and food on the table.  Scripture doesn’t indicate she had any children, either, though, of course, if she had, they’d have been far too young to support her when their father died, so she’d still have had a number of years trying to keep them all fed and housed.

But she didn’t marry again.  Nor did she take up any profession, such as Lydia, the seller of purple goods.  No, for all 62 or so years of widowhood, Anna took up residence in the house of God.  Her entire life was devoted to worship, fasting and prayer there, 24/7/365.  Now, the temple was not for the Jews what our church buildings are for us.  With Christ’s coming and the in-dwelling of the Holy Spirit, we ARE the habitation of the LORD, the place where His glory dwells; our churches are simply buildings where God’s Church gathers.  Before Christ’s coming, however, the temple in Jerusalem was THE building where God Himself dwelt, inhabited by the LORD in a way no other place on earth was.  Only there was the Ark of the Covenant.   Only there was the Holy of Holies.  Only there could sacrifices be made to atone for sin.  In choosing to remain at the temple night and day, Anna chose to devote her entire life to knowing her God.

In that devotion, Ann was a woman in waiting.  When she saw the Child, she “began to give thanks to God and to speak of Him to all who were waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem.”  The first promise of the Messiah came in Genesis, and was repeated through all the Old Testament.  The prophets at the time of the fall of Israel and Judah had reaffirmed it and had spoken of a day of salvation and redemption, but it had been some 400 years since that last recorded prophetic voice.  That salvation must have seemed an awfully long time in coming.  During the interval, some people had given up waiting, and were trying to take matters into their own hands, plotting and planning rebellion against the Roman oppressors – making their own “salvation”.  Some had given up waiting and were simply resigned to the thought that if God were even still paying attention, He just didn’t care anymore, so they were just trying to keep their heads down and ride things out.  Some, though, such as Anna and Simeon, were still waiting.  They had neither gotten impatient nor given up.  Though generations had come and gone, and though they themselves had come and might yet go, without seeing the fulfillment of God’s promise, they never stopped waiting.  They expected God to follow through on His Word, whether they lived to see it or not.

God’s promises are just as true now.  Some, such as sending the Messiah, have been fulfilled.  Others, such as the final return of the Messiah, have yet to see fruition.  Whether we understand the “why” of our wait, we should wait with patient confidence that He WILL do what He has said He will do.  The wait for God to make good on His promises is always worth it, no matter how long it takes.

Ps. 23:1  “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

Little Boy Blue come blow your horn!

The sheep’s in the meadow,

The cow’s in the corn.

Where is the boy who looks after the sheep?

He’s under the haystack – fast asleep!

Remember that old nursery rhyme?  It first appeared in print in 1744, but undoubtedly originated quite some time before that.  Having young boys look after sheep has been common for many, many centuries and, in fact, can still be seen in many cultures today.  It’s not that looking after sheep is precisely an unskilled job, but much of the time it is within the abilities of a boy, freeing older men for harder labor.  David, of course, tended his father’s sheep for several years.  The job had likely passed down through each of his older brothers in turn.   For little boys, being allowed to watch the sheep would have been a mark of growing up – “Father trusts ME with the sheep now.”  After a few years, though, they probably chafed and looked forward to the day when they graduated from the job – “I’m too old for watching sheep!  I should be doing something more important.”  For David, his time as a shepherd was, of course, preparation for his time as “shepherd” of Israel.  He found in his shepherd duties a deeper, richer meaning than most, and saw in his care for his father’s sheep a parallel to the Lord’s care of himself.  The verses of today’s psalm are some of the most well-known of all Scripture.

When Joseph brought his family to Egypt, he wanted to keep them separate from the Egyptian culture he had grown up in during his days of slavery.  So, when they arrived, he made a big deal of the fact that the Israelites were shepherds.  In Egyptian culture, shepherds were considered dirty and low class, an “abomination”, to quote Joseph.  Oh, the Egyptians certainly made use of the wool, and even sheep’s milk, but their culture was one that placed a high value on cleanliness and refinement, something that those who lived on the land tending sheep… lacked.  When Joseph told Pharaoh that his people were shepherds, Pharaoh told them, “Hey, the land is open to you, live wherever you want!”  Or, in other words, you’re welcome to go live anywhere but HERE.  Joseph took the land of Goshen – the best pastureland – but not the best land for the Egyptian cities.  Being shepherds helped the Israelites keep their identity as a people. 

Even after they settled in the Promised Land, raising sheep was still a major industry, and remained so for century after century.  By the time of Jesus’ birth, however, a major shift had taken place in the social and economic culture of the Israelites.  The influence of Roman wealth, growth in city economies, and a greater emphasis within Judaism on religious elitism by the Pharisees and Sadducees brought about a change in attitude toward those involved in menial, ‘unclean’ pursuits, especially shepherds.  In Jesus’ day, shepherds were occupied one of the bottom rungs of society.  Uneducated, uncouth, and unwashed, they were regarded as generally dishonest, so much so that their testimony was not even regarded as valid in court!

Such was the state of things on the night Christ was born.  Throughout  Jesus’ entire ministry, with but few exceptions, the wealthy, the powerful, the social “in” crowd, the movers and shakers – these weren’t on Jesus’ “A list”.  No, His guest list consisted of the lowly, the outcast, the unwanted, the “unclean”, the despised and rejected.   It was fitting, then, that the first witnesses to tell of His arrival were ones whose testimony most people would reject out of hand.   Luke tells us that all who heard the shepherds’ tale “wondered” at it.  I wonder just what he meant by “wonder”.  I can just hear folks saying, “Ah, it’s just those crazy shepherds.  Angels?  A savior?  In a stable?  Yeah, right.  Their brains are as woolly as their sheep!”  Maybe there were some villagers whose curiosity was piqued and checked it out for themselves, but without the angelic visit to confirm Christ’s identity, what would they see?  Just a mom and new baby.  Nothing unusual about that.  (I don’t expect that Joseph and Mary made a habit of announcing their Son as the Messiah – and who would believe them if they did?) 

But those shepherds would never forget that night.  They would never forget that of all the people those angels could have given the birth announcement to, God had sent the angels to their humble sheep field.  God had graced them with a dignity and a privilege that no other men were given that night.

It’s easy to listen to angels.  Who wouldn’t?  But God may pass on His most important news through lowly shepherds.  Are we willing to listen to those unexpected messengers?

Ps. 22: 1,9,10 “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?  Why are You so far from saving me, form the words of my groaning? … Yet You are He Who took me from the womb; You made me trust You at my mother’s breasts.  On You was I cast from my birth, and from my mother’s womb You have been my God.”

When I was growing up, I always looked forward to the Hallmark specials on TV.  Cable didn’t exist back then, at least not in the areas I lived, so we only had the big three stations – ABC, NBC, CBS.  I don’t remember which one carried the specials, but they’d be advertised for weeks ahead, and they’d only show for the one night.  Oh, eventually they’d show up again, but we knew if we didn’t want to have to wait till who knows when, we had to catch it that night. 

Then came the advent of the VCR.  Woo hoo!  We could record the show and watch it at a more convenient time.  No more missing a show.  Then along came cable, and the Hallmark Channel was born, a channel consisting entirely of, you guessed it, all those movies that used to be Hallmark Specials.  Oh, Hallmark is still making new movies, and they still get advertising campaigns, but if you miss the first showing, don’t worry – you can always catch it on one of the next dozen showings the following month.  Somehow, those specials don’t seem so special anymore.

A lot of people complain about “Christmas creep” in stores, as Christmas displays are set up earlier and earlier.  Halloween ghouls now stand trick-or-treating from Santa, with only the occasional Pilgrim intruding in acknowledgment that, oh, yeah, there is Thanksgiving in there somewhere.  “Christmas creep” has happened on the Hallmark Channel, too.  It used to be that their marathon of non-stop Christmas shows didn’t start until after Thanksgiving, but no more.  This year it started mid-November, show after show after show. 

Christmas shows, whether on Hallmark or any other channel, tend to have one thing in common:  almost every  one includes in its description something about how someone discovers “the true meaning of Christmas.”   If someone didn’t know anything about Christmas, what would they learn IS the “true meaning of Christmas” if they watched all these shows?  That family is the most important thing in the world.  Or that it is more important to give than to get.  Or that we should be nice to each other because otherwise we’ll end up hated and lonely at the end.  Or that we need to let people be themselves.  Or that we should forgive others.  Or that we’re all the brotherhood of mankind and should learn to get along.  Or that every Christmas wish must come true.  Touchy-feely, makes you feel good all over, heart-warming stuff, for sure. 

But wait, you say, there are shows that aren’t about Santa, elves, Frosty, BB guns, ghosts, or caricature angels.  Shows that give the “real meaning” as the (real) angels telling the shepherds, “Unto you is born this day…”  Shows that tell about Mary and Joseph, and the star, and Baby Jesus in the manger.  These answers, though not incorrect, are incomplete.   You see, even THIS far much of the world is still happy to celebrate.  What’s not to love about a glowing image of mother and child?  I mean, the whole thing is a great story, looked at from just a dramatic point of view.  The young, weary, pregnant mother-to-be coming to Bethlehem, the long search for lodging only to find no room at the inn, the lonely birth in a stable with all the kindly beasts around, the angels, the shepherds, the star, the Three Kings – just made for a beautiful painting or a Hollywood script!

Many of us recognize Psalm 22 in connection with Good Friday and the Passion of our Lord.  Jesus, in fact, quoted the first part of this first verse as He hung on the cross.  The psalm’s graphic descriptions that so clearly portray crucifixion, its depiction of His agony – anyone who has stood in a darkened sanctuary watching the altar slowly stripped of its Lenten adornments as they are replaced with funereal black drapings, while the congregation reads this passage in subdued and somber tones, knows the shudder that runs through the soul at the contemplation of the suffering shadowed in those lines.

The problem with the “true meaning of Christmas”, even as presented in many more-or-less Christian shows, is that it isn’t found in the angels, the shepherd, or the wise men.  It isn’t even found in the manger, because if all Jesus had done was to come as that Child laid in a feeding trough, we wouldn’t be celebrating.  From His very conception, Jesus was destined for the cross.  The bones knit together in His mother’s womb were already feeling the pain of being out of joint with agony.  As He lay in that manger, His pudgy infant hands and feet were already marked “insert nails here.”  His mouth that eagerly swallowed Mary’s sweet milk was already tasting that sour wine on the sponge raised on a hyssop branch.   As those shepherds knelt to adore Him, He was already hearing the shouts of “Crucify Him!”  As those wise men honored Him as “King of the Jews”, He could already read the sign with those very words in three languages tacked up above His head. 

It is THIS that is offensive to the world.  It is THIS meaning that Satan would hide from the world, and from which Satan would distract us.  Satan doesn’t care if we celebrate Jesus’ birth, so long as we ignore His death.  But always, always in the back of our minds as we celebrate Christmas, should be the awareness of Good Friday.  When we sing of “God and sinners reconciled”, along with our joy should be a remembrance of what that reconciliation cost Him.  Our peace was bought with the price of His pain. 

The true meaning of Christmas is not found in the crèche, but in the cross.

Ps. 20:4-5  “May He grant you your heart’s desire and fulfill all your plans!  May we shout for joy when you are victorious and will lift up our banners in the name of our God!  May the LORD fulfill all your petitions.”

Last night, we got to spend a few hours at what is, for us, the real kick-off of the Christmas season – a dear friend’s annual open house.  The Schmidts were the first other homeschoolers we ever met, and we’ve known them since our now 28 year old daughters were 5.  (See why this open house tradition is such a part of our Christmas?)  It’s always so good to see other long-time friends from our early homeschooling days and catch up on what all the kids are doing.  Since Kae’s kids are there, though now grown, there’s always a crowd of the younger generation who have grown up together, too, and it is great fun to watch year to year as they bloom in adulthood.  A few are married, some of those with kids of their own now, but many are still single.

Kae’s younger daughter is married and has a 4 yr. old, Savvy.  Kae’s older daughter, Auntie Riah, is still single.  Savvy doesn’t understand this, of course.  To her, all Big People should aspire to have kids.  So, last night, we were amused when Savvy sat down by one of the other still-single friends in the Auntie Riah circle and began pointing out salient good features of all the eligible (i.e. childless and relatively young) men in the room.  “He’s very tall.”  “He has a nice nose.”  “He has beautiful eyes.”  It was too much for the poor victim of such a bald-faced attempt at match-making, and she found somewhere else to go.  It wouldn’t have fazed Riah, though, because you see, she is not just single, but is happily and most emphatically so.  She harbors no desire whatsoever to marry, let alone to have children.

There are many women for whom having a child is their deepest desire, who long desperately to be a mother by birth, not adoption.  The reproductive industry is proof of that.  Although fertility treatments and in vitro fertilization are terribly expensive, couples spend thousand and even hundreds of thousands in pursuit of having a biological child.  Churches sometime hold special prayer services just to pray for the Lord to open the wombs of the childless.  I expect we all know at least one or two couples struggling with the crushing disappointment as month after month goes by and “Aunt Flo” keeps showing up, or they achieve pregnancy and pregnancy but lose the baby after only a few weeks. 

This desire for a child isn’t new.  It’s as old as mankind.  In Biblical times, there was an added pressure to it.  There was a cultural assumption made that being barren meant that God didn’t like you.  Now, God never said that.  Yes, there were times that He closed wombs as a specific response to situations that didn’t please Him – think of Abimilech’s wives and slave girls when he married Sarah, or of Rachel when God saw that she was loved and Leah was not.  Nowhere did He make a general statement that “no children=lack of God’s favor”, but that didn’t stop people from assuming that correlation. 

For a woman who doesn’t want children, or want more children, menopause comes as a relief.  That’s one issue she’ll never again even have to think about, whew!  But for a woman who wants children, it’s a death-knell to hopes and dreams.  It’s a once and for all “Never!”  Such was the case of Mary’s relative, Elizabeth.  As it had been with Sarah, Elizabeth was “advanced in years”.  Her child-bearing days were over.  Since there isn’t a single reference in Scripture to another late-life pregnancy such as Sarah’s, I doubt that Elizabeth held on to even the slightest hope of ever being a mother.  That didn’t mean she didn’t still hold a desire, an “I wish I could have been a mother”, deep in her heart.  But she had resigned herself to her “reproach” among the people.  When she became pregnant, Elizabeth may have found expression for her feelings in these verses, for God certainly had granted her heart’s desire and granted her petition.  Her neighbors certainly rejoiced with her in God’s mercy.  Another Sarah story right in their own town!

But in looking at the wonder of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, it’s easy to lose sight of something more important.  Yes, one heart’s desire was granted in becoming pregnant, but was having a child her most fundamental heart’s desire?  We are told of Zechariah and Elizabeth that “they were both righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord.”  You don’t get that kind of a write-up unless your deepest heart’s desire is, in fact, to be obedient to God’s  Word, to walk steadfastly with Him, and to accept His will for your life, no matter what it is.  It means her heart was set first on the Lord, and all other things were secondary.  There’s nothing that indicates that Elizabeth felt that God owed her a child simply because she wanted one, or because she had walked faithfully with Him for so many years.  I think she was like Job, who also is said to have been “blameless and upright”, whose attitude was that God had the right to give or take away – or, in Elizabeth’s case, to not give in the first place.  If God had not given her that child, she would have gone right on walking blamelessly, righteous before God, counting the reproach of man over her childlessness as less important than the approval of her God.

God will or will not grant our heart’s other desires based on what serves His purposes, but the desire to walk closely with Him will ALWAYS be granted to His children who seek Him. 

Ps. 19: 1-4  “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims His handiwork.  Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge.  There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard.  Their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.”

Remember that old conundrum “If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one to hear it, does it make a noise?”  It’s supposed to be a very profound thing to think about, having to do with whether vibrations in the air constitute “sound” or whether it only becomes “sound” when those vibrations act on the hearing mechanism of some creature.  I’ve always thought it was a waste of time to spend time pondering the question!  If all the world were blind, would a rose not still be red?  The fact that a deaf person doesn’t hear me when I talk doesn’t mean I’m not saying words.  If there’s no one to hear a tree fall, then great – no one to get squished!  What matters isn’t some esoteric question about whether sensory input actually exists without a sensor to input it to, but whether, if there is a recipient, if that recipient is able to correctly interpret the sensory input.  If a person is colorblind, it doesn’t matter if red is a property unto itself or not, but whether a red flag will serve as much of a warning.

Did you ever notice in virtually all Nativity scenes that feature a star, that that star is huge?  I mean, that baby is humongous.  A super nova.  Brighter than a sports stadium at night.  And its tail? Oh, my goodness.  THAT thing trails all the way down till it lands on the rooftop.  The whole set-up couldn’t point the way to Jesus any clearer if it set up a row of shopping mall Black Friday searchlights with the Goodyear blimp  carrying a flashing red arrow and a sign saying “KING OF THE JEWS RIGHT HERE, Y’ALL”.  Think about it!  If that star had been like those pictures, the Magi surely wouldn’t have been the only ones to notice.  There would have been crowds of folks following that star.  It would have been the headliner on the 5 o’clock news! 

No, whatever it was that they saw, it wasn’t what the painters paint.  It wasn’t something obvious to every Moses, Elijah, and schmuck on the street.  It was something that everyone else saw, but no one else apparently understood.  The “wise men” were, in fact, astrologers who looked at the positions and alignments of stars, and the appearance of comets and other heavenly bodies, and read into them various meanings.  God’s people were forbidden from doing that.  God warns repeatedly in Scripture against reading “signs” and “omens” and “the stars”; God’s people are to rely on HIM to lead them.  God is sovereign, however, and He uses the communication method He pleases at need.  The Magi were not Jews, nor were they proselytes.  They had no knowledge of God that we are told of.  Yet, even in their ignorance and false religion, God still reached out to them through a language they did understand – the stars.  We don’t know exactly what it was that the wise men interpreted as “His star” indicating that a king had been born for the Jews; it is enough that when they saw it, it meant so much to them that they set out to find Him of Whom it told.

In modern times, of course, the language of the stars is being read through science.  We have an incredible amount of knowledge about the bodies that inhabit the universe, the various types of stars, their makeup, their properties, their effects on bodies around them.  Look up at the night sky, close one eye, hold your thumb out at arms’ length, and in the area of sky blocked from your view by just that one thumb lies countless galaxies!  The deeper into the universe we see, the more universe we realize there is TO see.  For the scientist who is a follower of Christ, of course, the more he studies the stars, the more he hears their voices declaring the glory of God and sees the vivid tapestry of His handiwork.  For the scientist who has excluded the possibility of the existence of God, those same stars are mute and colorless.

The wise men weren’t the only ones to see the star, but they were the only ones who understood its meaning and followed it until they found the Child Who had called it forth.  The stars still speak of God for those who have ears to hear or eyes to see.

I missed posting yesterday, but had it written in my head, so I’ll let it count if I post it today, ok?

Ps 18:1-3  “I love you, LORD, my strength.  The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.  I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised, and I am saved from my enemies.”

I am a major planner.  When we have a trip planned, I start preparing weeks in advance, making a list of things to take, things to get done before we leave, instructions for any kids staying behind.  If we’ll be visiting any of our grown kids, I start a box to put items in that I need to give to them – items they left at our house last time, accumulated Good Housekeeping and Woman’s Day and Readers Digest magazines to pass on, borrowed/to be borrowed movies or books, grandkid goodies.  I still usually manage to forget something, but seldom something critical.  (OK, I did forget my purse on the way to the airport for my Texas trip two years ago, and had to have Cherry scramble to meet us halfway there with it.  But that was an exception!)  I don’t necessarily do “spontaneous” well.

When the Magi showed up to see Joseph and Mary, it wasn’t at the stable, Nativity scenes to the contrary.  (Scripture says they went “into the house where the young child was” – house, not stable, young child, not infant.)  Joe and Mary’s trip wasn’t just a weekender; they had actually settled in for a longer stay.  Joseph may have set up shop to earn a living.  They had probably made friends.  They may even have kept in contact with some of those shepherds who came to the stable.  The proud parents may well have thought, “This will be our home now.”

When the Magi showed up, though, they must have told Joseph and Mary their story, which would have included the fact that they had seen Herod, and that he thus knew they searched specifically for a child by Herod’s own title, “King of the Jews.”  Anyone from Israel would know Herod’s reputation when it came to keeping his rule secure, so the Magi’s news must have been disquieting, to say the least.  When the wise men left, they did so by taking a route different from that previously planned because they had been warned in a dream – and I expect they would have communicated that, too, to the couple.  It is against this backdrop that Joseph gets a second dream visit by an angel.  This time, the angel warns Joe to take Mary and Jesus and hightail it to Egypt because Herod was, indeed, on the warpath for Him.

Because of Joseph’s immediate obedience to the instructions given by the angel in his first visit in Joseph’s dream, it’s no surprise that Joseph is equally swift in following orders this time, especially given the circumstances.  But there sure wasn’t time to prepare for the journey!  As far as we can tell from Matthew’s narrative, the Magi showed up, left, Joe had his dream, and then the family skeedaddled, all in a matter of days.  Up stakes and move out, taking only what a pack animal or two could carry.

I say there wasn’t time to prepare, but that really only refers to Joseph and Mary.  GOD had done preparations.  Remember those gifts from the Magi – the gold, frankincense, and myrrh?  Those weren’t pennies, incense from the corner grocery, and cheap perfume from the five-and-dime!  They were highly valuable, far beyond anything common folk like Jesus’ parents would ever expect to possess.  Voila!  Instant travelling funds.  No need to wait to sell tools or belongings to raise money.  No problem buying a couple of nice little recent model donkeys.  No trouble buying food along the way.  Rent when they got to Egypt?  Covered.  Talk about being provided for!

Somewhere along their way, Joseph and Mary must have heard the news about what happened in Bethlehem.  The massacre couldn’t have taken place long after they had left.   Joseph and Mary may well have known some of those parents who lost sons.  Jesus might have toddled in play with some of those boys.  But although Joseph and Mary could not have helped but feel a tremendous sense of sadness at the loss so many other parents suffered, they must have also been very aware of God’s hand of protection on them.  God’s plans for His Son could not be thwarted by any earthly king with a god complex.  In even just this part of the Christmas story, Joseph and Mary experienced God as all those titles David uses in the opening verses of this Psalm – rock, fortress, deliverer, refuge, shield, horn of my salvation, stronghold.

When God has a call on our life and He gives us marching orders, He’s already packed our kit and done all the reconnaissance.  Like Joseph, when God says, “March!”, our response should be, “Hup, two, three, four…”

Ps. 17: 10-12, 15  “They close their hearts to pity; with their mouths they speak arrogantly.  They have now surrounded our steps; they set their eyes to cast us to the ground.  He is like a lion eager to tear, as a young lion lurking in ambush.  …  As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness.”

I tend to have a hard time looking at an infant and limning in its features the lines of its parents’ faces.   It’s often easier to see a general “family resemblance” –telling a Winterstein from a Wachtman from a Jonen.  Rob has a family of cousins whose parents came from very different models.  One family had very long bodies set on notably short legs, the other had normal bodies set on legs up to their armpits.  Two of these cousins each had two boys.  In both sets, one of the boys took after the one grandparent, and the other boy took after the other, resulting in one brother being about 6’4” and the “little” brother barely making it to 5’2”.  Looking at the four together, you’d expect the two tall ones to be brothers and the two short ones to be brothers, not split sets as they are.  Such is the Puckish nature of genetics!

During adulthood, the resemblance most likely to be noted is how folks start to look like their parents.  I mean, we ALL have those moments as adults when we say something and suddenly realize, “Oh, my goodness, I sound just like my MOTHER!”  We have some voluntary control over that, but the looks?  We’re pretty much stuck with those.  What’s that old saying  – “If you want to know what your spouse will look like in 50 years, look at her/his mother/father?”  The wrinkles we develop, the jowls, the receding hairline, the big ears, the long nose (did you know your nose and ears keep growing your whole life?  Oh, joy.) … they’re in the genes.   Sooner or later, for better or chagrin, most of us will hear someone say, “Boy, you sure look like your dad/mom/grandma/grandpa!” 

In the Christmas story, we can easily see the first verses quoted above as they apply to Herod.  Herod “the Great” was a ruthless tyrant who stopped at nothing to ensure his rule.  He banished his first wife and three year old son so that he could marry the niece of his nephew, both of whom he later executed.  He ordered the execution of a many rabbis and any others who opposed him.  Although he considered himself a convert to Judaism, these actions and his decadent lifestyle led to his being viewed with extreme antipathy by observant Jews.  His being a servant of Rome earned the ire of the nationalists.  Having been elected “King of the Jews” by the Roman Senate, he was not about to let any upstart usurper enter the picture, hailed by the stars or not.  Ordering the slaughter of three or four dozen or so two year old boys around Bethlehem?  A small matter to ensure his rule.  In I Peter 5:  8, Peter says the enemy, Satan, “prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.”    Herod was a “chip off the old block” for sure.  Like his father the devil, the lion roaring, seeking someone to devour, so, too, was Herod a young lion eager to tear, lying in ambush.    

I recently heard a pastor say “This earth is as close to Heaven as a non-Christian will ever know.”  People like Herod actively work to make earth as much like Hell as possible.  But for the Christian, the second part of that pastor’s statement was “This earth is as close to Hell as a Christian will ever know.”  That isn’t really saying much, when you think about it.  Hell is the absence of the presence of God, and no matter how “hellish” the Herod’s of the world seek to make our lives, they can’t remove God’s presence from us.   Roar as he might, Satan can’t actually devour us.  Our Father never lets go of our hand.  No matter what our circumstances, our Father’s face is always before us.   God is always at work to conform us ever more and more into His likeness. 

When it comes to spiritual looks, there could be no greater satisfaction than hearing, “Boy, you sure look like your Dad!”