A New Start

It's recently occurred to me, there's nothing singularly special about a New Year. We replace our calendars. Have to start remembering to date our checks with a thirteen instead of a twelve (and if you're anything like me, you only got used to writing that number some time in October). But when it comes down to it, all the problems we had in 2012 will still be there in 2013. The bills that were stacked up on December 31 will be stacked up on January 1, and the people who sent them will still expect to be paid. No... there's nothing really significant about the date itself.

So, why is it such a big deal?

I think it must be that it represents new beginnings. A chance to start something new. Or to be renewed. Our hearts and souls long for growth, but the mind craves order. So, a new year, a new start. Day one.

So what are you doing with your new start?

At the end of each year, I look back on my life and ask: what did I do for God? Did I accomplish all He had for me to do? Did I reach somebody for Him? Did I touch a life? Could I have done more? The answers for these questions are often uncomfortable. I didn't accomplish everything. I could have done more. What, actually, did I do for God, anyway?

So, for me, a new year is about renewed commitment. It's about saying, "God, I'm sorry that, in 2012, I wasn't all You wanted me to be," and asking for His help, in 2013, to reach others in His name. It's about understanding that, eventually, I'll be out of New Years, and all I'll have to offer Him is what I did with the time I had.

So with this new year, I recommit my life to the service of the God who saved me. So that, when all is said and done, when I've come to the end of my years, new and otherwise, I can say with Paul,

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing. (2 Timothy 4:7-8)

I'd Rather Be Burdened With Christ

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (Matthew 11:28-29)

It can be so easy to get caught up in the do's and don't's of Christianity some times. Sadly, this is as much true for believers as it is for non-believers, who see this whole church thing as nothing more than a big set of rules to follow. How easily we miss the point!

The real truth is, Sin, and not faith, is our burden. It's hard to see when we're drenched in wrongdoing, but the stuff, the muck, that weighs us down is nothing more or less than our own human nature. We are burdened by this world; dragged down by our sin, and the sins of this world. 

The truth of Jesus is that He came, not to burden us with religion, but to release us from the bondage of sin. Once we acknowledge that there really is a right and a wrong, and that we have been on the wrong side of it, we can lift that burden to Christ.

I've often wondered what was meant when He said "my yoke is light." I've begun to realize the reason His yoke is so much easier than the one we carry without Him is that He does most of the heavy lifting.

Psalm 103: Praise the Lord, My Soul!

As I was trying to decide what to do today's devotion on, I ran across Psalm 103. I can add nothing, this morning, to the words of David. Let his words be our prayer this, and every, morning.

¹ Praise the Lord, my soul;
    all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
² Praise the Lord, my soul,
    and forget not all his benefits—
³ who forgives all your sins
    and heals all your diseases,
⁴ who redeems your life from the pit
    and crowns you with love and compassion,
⁵ who satisfies your desires with good things
    so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

⁶ The Lord works righteousness
    and justice for all the oppressed.

⁷ He made known his ways to Moses,
    his deeds to the people of Israel:
⁸ The Lord is compassionate and gracious,
    slow to anger, abounding in love.
⁹ He will not always accuse,
    nor will he harbor his anger forever;
¹⁰ he does not treat us as our sins deserve
    or repay us according to our iniquities.
¹¹ For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
    so great is his love for those who fear him;
¹² as far as the east is from the west,
    so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

¹³ As a father has compassion on his children,
    so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him;
¹⁴ for he knows how we are formed,
    he remembers that we are dust.
¹⁵ The life of mortals is like grass,
    they flourish like a flower of the field;
¹⁶ the wind blows over it and it is gone,
    and its place remembers it no more.
¹⁷ But from everlasting to everlasting
    the Lord’s love is with those who fear him,
    and his righteousness with their children’s children—
¹⁸ with those who keep his covenant
    and remember to obey his precepts.

¹⁹ The Lord has established his throne in heaven,
    and his kingdom rules over all.

²⁰ Praise the Lord, you his angels,
    you mighty ones who do his bidding,
    who obey his word.
²¹ Praise the Lord, all his heavenly hosts,
    you his servants who do his will.
²² Praise the Lord, all his works
    everywhere in his dominion.

Praise the Lord, my soul.

Keeping Christmas

It's all over. The children are basking, under the warm glow of the Christmas tree, in the glory of their gifts and toys. The belly is still full from the ham and turkey and stuffing and a wondrous variety of pies and desserts. The wrapping paper is in the recycling bin or, for the more meticulous among us, folded and ready for use next year. And everywhere there is a sort of satisfied happiness.

But what about Christmas? Is it, too, being placed back in a bin, with the artificial tree and ornaments and seasonal decorations? Are Mary, Joseph, the infant Jesus, and that whole manger crew being buried once more beneath mountains of packing peanuts, like the figurines that represent them?

We have spent the weeks coming up to this point in remembrance, not only of a small child born in a stable 2000 years and thousands of miles away, but of who that Child really was, and what He did? Can the enormity of God stepping from the Heavens to walk and die as a man, to suffer for our sins and bridge a gap that separated man from Himself for hundreds of generations, really be packed away, tucked into a box until the end of next year?

Or is this message -- that God Himself came to us, born to a woman in a lowly stable, that He walked the earth as a prophet despised by His own people, that He was brutalized and murdered, that He rose again to conquer once and for all the death we brought on our own heads -- perhaps worth remembering all year long? Is it worth taking these touchy-feely "holiday" sentiments like generosity and peace and grace, and spreading them throughout the year?

Or do we really believe as we occasionally act: that God sent His Son so we could have a nice holiday once a year?

Remember Christmas this year. Remember it in your actions toward your fellow man. Remember it in your own generosity of finances and spirit toward others. Remember it in the grocery line, when everybody around you is grumbling about the wait, and snarling at the cashier. Remember who you are, and whose you are. Remember that, because Christ came down as a tiny baby, and because He lived and died and rose again, you are the child of a loving King, and His representative to everyone else who, like you, needs a little grace.

We Pause In Our Celebration of Christ's Birth To Witness The End of the World

Well, it would seem we're all still here. Again. Doing some quick digging, it seems the end of the world has been predicted over 240 times since Jesus walked the earth. That's 240 dates for the end of all things. Apparently, there's even another one coming up in 2016, since the whole Mayan calendar thing didn't work out.

And, since we're at it, we might as well predict exactly how the world will end. Nuclear war was a big one for a few decades. I guess it's still under consideration, but not quite as prevalent since the Cold War. Acid Rain? We don't hear a whole lot about that either, anymore. Not that it isn't still there... I guess it's just not as "in" right now. Global Warming. Or at least, some kind of climate change. Warnings, all. Change your ways, people. The end is nigh.

It's weird how even secular apocalypses take on something of a religious quality, isn't it? In the case of the 2012 Mayan apocalypse, there's even that thread of mysticism.

This fascination we have with our own mortality may have something to do with how temporary we really are. I begin to wonder if this constant warning of impending doom isn't more spiritual than it first appears. A realization, perhaps, that we are not meant to live on this world forever. A longing for our true home.

As the New Testament often reminds us, we are strangers to this world. As people who belong to Christ, we Christians are ambassadors to this world. It is not our home. So, we do long for the day when Christ returns to reign again over this Earth, to welcome His children to His side.

Is it so strange, then, that even the nonbelieving world would have this ingrained, instinctive desire? That even unbelievers would see and know that something isn't right with the world they know, and long for some catastrophic event to change the very face of what they know -- and to, perhaps, forge something better from the wreckage?

It's not that we're a planet full of nihilists. It's that we're eternal beings, with an instinctive longing for Eternity.

So it's proper, I think, in the season when we remember the coming of Christ as a small child, to look forward, as well, to His returning as triumphant King.

Over the Hills and Everywhere!

You know what I love about Christmas carols? Everybody sings 'em. Agnostics, nominal Christians... if you are willing to celebrate Christmas, chances are you sing a Christmas song. And even if you don't, you still know 'em. Catchy little things, Christmas carols.

And -- and this is the part I love the most -- in doing so, whether or not they really mean it, they are proclaiming the birth of the Savior. They are declaring His lordship. They are telling the world.

And when it comes down to it, what Christmas is really all about, isn't merely being nice to one another. It isn't some esoteric ideal of "Christmas Spirit" or even a "spirit of generosity." It is really, when it the rubber meets the road, about telling the world Our Savior has come. That He came among us, that He died for our sins and rose again. That He is coming back. 

That,
Down in a lowly manger
The humble Christ was born
And God sent us salvation
That blessed Christmas morn.

So celebrate, yes. Spend time with family and friends. Spend time worshiping our God and King. And then, Go, tell it!

Thy Deep and Dreamless Sleep

My children and I have started reading the Bible together before they go to bed. Because of the season, we decided to start in the book of Matthew. Yesterday was the first part of Matthew 2. I was struck, as we read, by how much the Chief Priests and Teachers of the Law really knew about their coming Messiah. After the wise men from the East visited Herod, the king called all these teachers together and asked from where this Messiah was to come.

⁵ “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written: ⁶ “‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
    are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for out of you will come a ruler
    who will shepherd my people Israel.’

Given the wholeheartedness with which these same priests and teachers later rejected that same Messiah, I often forget they, too, had read the prophecies. In fact, these men were extremely well-versed. They knew the prophecies of the Messiah backwards and forwards. They knew them so well that, when Herod asked a specific question about them, these men were prepared with a specific answer. 

And yet, in spite of this -- in spite of the man Jesus humbly meeting every requirement set forth in these prophecies -- these great teachers of the Law didn't recognize Him. You see, there was prophecy, and then there was expectation. The nation of Israel expected -- and indeed still expects -- an earthly King, to pull them away from their troubles, to make them great among all nations.

And He will. But first, He came to bridge the gap between man and God. He came, as Isaiah said, to bear our iniquity, and be wounded and killed as a sacrifice. He will come as a King, but came first as a man of sorrow. 

It seems to me these teachers and priests were perfectly willing to allow their Messiah to be that man of sorrow, so long as he wore the Crown of Israel. But what God says He will do, He will do, our own preferences aside.

The Messiah did indeed come to Bethlehem, a ruler and Shepherd, not only for Israel, but for, as Paul reminds us in Romans 3, "all who believe." 

The promised Messiah came out of that little town of Bethlehem, in the land of Judah. The question is, will you recognize Him?