"Come, Lord Jesus."
Rarely do I breathe this prayer as a casual invitation - it usually comes more as a desperate plea. Rarely is it spoken while I am on my knees - it usually comes while I'm driving, or sneaking away from the crowds under the guise of doing some necessary chore, or sometimes even while I am in the midst of conversation; it has been known to come with tears.
I pray this prayer with the knowledge that Jesus is already present, already working, always in control. It is a prayer of humility, recognizing my need for him, and my strong desire to see him and feel him there.
These three words laced my thoughts and conversations at my family's Christmas celebration this year. Our traditional Christmas festivities are always fun and warm and loving (though what family get-together is completely free of some minor tension?). Nonetheless, this year more than ever, I felt a loneliness, a longing for God's presence, for Jesus to be met and known at his own birthday celebration.
"Come, Lord Jesus."
As a quick run to the store for a bottle of Worcestershire sauce (crucial to Chex Mix and shrimp dip - staples in our family) on Christmas Eve afternoon gave me a chance for some quiet away from the crowd, I was confronted with a question: I am begging Jesus to come, but how am I making his presence known?
For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life. Who is sufficient for these things? For we are not, like so many, peddlers of God's word, but as men of sincerity, as commissioned by God, in the sight of God we speak in Christ. 2 Corinthians 2:15-17
Amidst so many familiar aromas this season - pine trees, peppermint candy canes, cranberry-nut bread baking in the oven, freshly sliced ham for Christmas dinner - are my actions and words spreading the aroma of Christ? And am I speaking as a woman of sincerity?
I read a prayer later on that evening that helped my heart to turn these questions into a request for His help.
Fill our minds and our mouths, O Lord, with the truth of Christ that we may speak well of him. Forbid that we would add to the avalanche of error spoken about Christ in the world.
I prayed this prayer for not only the words of my mouth, but for what is spoken by my actions and my very life as well. May I always speak well of him, and as I do so may my life be the aroma of Christ to both the living and the dying.
"Come, Lord Jesus."
This blog was written and posted from the charming Birchwood Cafe in the Seward neighborhood in Minneapolis. Next time you're looking for a good place to eat, get coffee, write a blog, or catch up with your college roommates, you should come here.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Waiting for Christ to come
There is a saying I’ve heard from time to time over the past couple of years – I don’t know that it’s necessarily a Southern phrase, but it’s one I’ve only heard since moving down here. My roommate used it the other day to describe some thick, sweet evaporated milk that was ever so slowly pouring out of its can: “Man, this stuff is slow as Christmas!”
O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Slow as Christmas? Christmas never seems that slow to me. With presents to buy, parties to attend, work to be done before the end of the year, travel plans to be made, and all of the other things that go into getting ready for Christmas, the day itself comes all too quickly. But the saying still rings true in the minds of children, for whom Christmas can’t come fast enough. Do you remember those days? The anxious anticipation of seeing grandma’s Christmas tree, eating the cookies mom baked and, of course, opening tons of presents. If only opening two or three Advent calendar doors at a time could make Christmas day come sooner!
O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
We were on the right track as kids – the Advent season is meant to be a time of expectation and anticipation. However, for too many of us, our eagerness was misplaced. While we were not-so-patiently waiting for new toys and good food and fun family traditions, we tended to ignore that which is deserving of our greatest anticipation: the coming of a mighty and gracious Savior. And now that we are older, our “preparations” for the holiday tend to distract us from genuine waiting and a sense of holy urgency.
O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
This Christmas season, I have found myself wishing that time would slow down. The Israelites waited thousands of years for the Messiah – and oh how eager they were for his arrival! Mary anticipated the birth of a son for nine months, taking time to praise her faithful God and reflect on His goodness. They waited in hope and faith for the promised Emmanuel, God with us, and their waiting was not in vain. He was born in a most humble way, and for thirty-three years, God walked on this earth – that in itself is indeed an “inexpressible gift” (2 Corinthians 9:15). The light, hope, and deliverance he brought and still freely offers are his most gracious gift to a broken world, yet we still wait for the day when we will be whole in Him.
O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
The four short weeks of Advent – and the celebration of Christmas itself – were never intended to be crowded with parties and presents. This time is meant for us to look back at the longing in the hearts of the Israelites and a special young girl so long ago. We also must look around and look ahead, waiting, watching and preparing for the day when God will be with us again – a day much more important than even our most treasured holidays. Along with the apostle Paul, we hear “the whole creation… groaning together in the pains of childbirth” (Romans 8:22), and “in this [earthly] tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling” (2 Corinthians 5:2). Did you catch that? We’re talking about groaning here, which to me implies desperation, an ache coming from a void which can only be filled by one thing. And so we wait expectantly with John, who after receiving the revelation of Jesus Christ wrote, perhaps even pleaded, “Come, Lord Jesus!” (Revelation 22:20).
O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
As we prepare for and celebrate Christmas this year, may we remember the Israelites and taste the lonely exile of a world that is not our home; may we recognize the darkness that surrounds us, and in turn rejoice with Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and the Magi that a great light has come; and may we, with the ardent hope of Paul and John, diligently seek the path that leads us home to Christ. And in the midst of it all, may we slow down long enough to be captivated by the majesty of a tiny baby who was Emmanuel, God with us.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Slow as Christmas? Christmas never seems that slow to me. With presents to buy, parties to attend, work to be done before the end of the year, travel plans to be made, and all of the other things that go into getting ready for Christmas, the day itself comes all too quickly. But the saying still rings true in the minds of children, for whom Christmas can’t come fast enough. Do you remember those days? The anxious anticipation of seeing grandma’s Christmas tree, eating the cookies mom baked and, of course, opening tons of presents. If only opening two or three Advent calendar doors at a time could make Christmas day come sooner!
O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
We were on the right track as kids – the Advent season is meant to be a time of expectation and anticipation. However, for too many of us, our eagerness was misplaced. While we were not-so-patiently waiting for new toys and good food and fun family traditions, we tended to ignore that which is deserving of our greatest anticipation: the coming of a mighty and gracious Savior. And now that we are older, our “preparations” for the holiday tend to distract us from genuine waiting and a sense of holy urgency.
O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
This Christmas season, I have found myself wishing that time would slow down. The Israelites waited thousands of years for the Messiah – and oh how eager they were for his arrival! Mary anticipated the birth of a son for nine months, taking time to praise her faithful God and reflect on His goodness. They waited in hope and faith for the promised Emmanuel, God with us, and their waiting was not in vain. He was born in a most humble way, and for thirty-three years, God walked on this earth – that in itself is indeed an “inexpressible gift” (2 Corinthians 9:15). The light, hope, and deliverance he brought and still freely offers are his most gracious gift to a broken world, yet we still wait for the day when we will be whole in Him.
O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
The four short weeks of Advent – and the celebration of Christmas itself – were never intended to be crowded with parties and presents. This time is meant for us to look back at the longing in the hearts of the Israelites and a special young girl so long ago. We also must look around and look ahead, waiting, watching and preparing for the day when God will be with us again – a day much more important than even our most treasured holidays. Along with the apostle Paul, we hear “the whole creation… groaning together in the pains of childbirth” (Romans 8:22), and “in this [earthly] tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling” (2 Corinthians 5:2). Did you catch that? We’re talking about groaning here, which to me implies desperation, an ache coming from a void which can only be filled by one thing. And so we wait expectantly with John, who after receiving the revelation of Jesus Christ wrote, perhaps even pleaded, “Come, Lord Jesus!” (Revelation 22:20).
O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
As we prepare for and celebrate Christmas this year, may we remember the Israelites and taste the lonely exile of a world that is not our home; may we recognize the darkness that surrounds us, and in turn rejoice with Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and the Magi that a great light has come; and may we, with the ardent hope of Paul and John, diligently seek the path that leads us home to Christ. And in the midst of it all, may we slow down long enough to be captivated by the majesty of a tiny baby who was Emmanuel, God with us.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
A Christmas missive
I wrote the following last year around this time - some of you may have read it then. If you are like me, you need to read it again.
Have we lost the true meaning of Christmas?
It’s a question that haunts many of us at this time of year. Sometimes it’s voiced in conversation, sometimes it just dances around the edges of jingle bells and whispers on silent nights. We clamor for the latest gadget, get stuck in mall traffic that rivals any urban rush hour, and stuff ourselves with treats, knowing we’ll need to loosen the belt a notch in a day or two. For some of us, Christmas brings tension and pain, opening old wounds and stirring up family conflicts that bear no hint of peace on earth or goodwill towards men. Christmas seems to have become a tribute to materialism, impatience, gluttony and stress, rather than a celebration of the birth of Christ.
Have we lost the true meaning of Christmas?
Much of what consumes us at this time of year, what provokes that nagging question, stems from a heartfelt desire to create a perfect, peaceful holiday. We should find the right gift for everyone on our list, holiday parties should go off without a hitch, the cookies should never be burnt, and we should do whatever it takes to avoid family drama. But for Mary and Joseph, the night their son was born was far from perfect and peaceful, and had this been a perfect, peaceful world, he wouldn’t have even been born.
Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!
These words, spoken by John the Baptist, tell me that we haven’t lost the true meaning of Christmas. The 21st Century American celebration of this sacred holiday simply reminds us of how much sin this world has for the Lamb to take away. Our pursuit of perfection, as well as our human reactions to imperfection, tend to distract us from rejoicing in the Christ child’s birth. However, that does not mean that the things that threaten to steal our joy and rearrange our priorities at Christmastime should be ignored. Instead, acknowledging them should be part of our very motivation for rejoicing.
We celebrate not just because Jesus came; we celebrate because of why he came: to take away the sin of the world. My own sin has been on my mind more often than usual lately – some of it hidden under shiny bows and wrapping paper, and some of it looming in front of me like a pile of neglected dishes the day after the office Christmas party. As I wrestle with pride, impatience, judgment, and worry, I see now how desperately I need the One whose birth we celebrate on Christmas day. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh pale in comparison to the gifts that were born along with Him: grace, forgiveness, hope, life. I am reminded anew of the joy of his birth into my own life, and I discover that I need to receive those gifts from him again – today, on Christmas day and every day.
Throughout our celebration of Christmas, in both the worldly and the sacred, may we be reminded of its true meaning: Christ, our Savior, is born. Emmanuel, God with us, comes ready to tear open the flashy wrapping and deal with what’s inside, to plunge his hands into the water and scrub, scrub, scrub, until our sins are washed away.
I wish you joy this Christmas – not just the happiness that comes from unwrapping presents or being surrounded by loved ones – but the deep, enduring joy that comes from recognizing that you are in need of a Savior, and that Savior was born on Christmas Day.
Have we lost the true meaning of Christmas?
It’s a question that haunts many of us at this time of year. Sometimes it’s voiced in conversation, sometimes it just dances around the edges of jingle bells and whispers on silent nights. We clamor for the latest gadget, get stuck in mall traffic that rivals any urban rush hour, and stuff ourselves with treats, knowing we’ll need to loosen the belt a notch in a day or two. For some of us, Christmas brings tension and pain, opening old wounds and stirring up family conflicts that bear no hint of peace on earth or goodwill towards men. Christmas seems to have become a tribute to materialism, impatience, gluttony and stress, rather than a celebration of the birth of Christ.
Have we lost the true meaning of Christmas?
Much of what consumes us at this time of year, what provokes that nagging question, stems from a heartfelt desire to create a perfect, peaceful holiday. We should find the right gift for everyone on our list, holiday parties should go off without a hitch, the cookies should never be burnt, and we should do whatever it takes to avoid family drama. But for Mary and Joseph, the night their son was born was far from perfect and peaceful, and had this been a perfect, peaceful world, he wouldn’t have even been born.
Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!
These words, spoken by John the Baptist, tell me that we haven’t lost the true meaning of Christmas. The 21st Century American celebration of this sacred holiday simply reminds us of how much sin this world has for the Lamb to take away. Our pursuit of perfection, as well as our human reactions to imperfection, tend to distract us from rejoicing in the Christ child’s birth. However, that does not mean that the things that threaten to steal our joy and rearrange our priorities at Christmastime should be ignored. Instead, acknowledging them should be part of our very motivation for rejoicing.
We celebrate not just because Jesus came; we celebrate because of why he came: to take away the sin of the world. My own sin has been on my mind more often than usual lately – some of it hidden under shiny bows and wrapping paper, and some of it looming in front of me like a pile of neglected dishes the day after the office Christmas party. As I wrestle with pride, impatience, judgment, and worry, I see now how desperately I need the One whose birth we celebrate on Christmas day. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh pale in comparison to the gifts that were born along with Him: grace, forgiveness, hope, life. I am reminded anew of the joy of his birth into my own life, and I discover that I need to receive those gifts from him again – today, on Christmas day and every day.
Throughout our celebration of Christmas, in both the worldly and the sacred, may we be reminded of its true meaning: Christ, our Savior, is born. Emmanuel, God with us, comes ready to tear open the flashy wrapping and deal with what’s inside, to plunge his hands into the water and scrub, scrub, scrub, until our sins are washed away.
I wish you joy this Christmas – not just the happiness that comes from unwrapping presents or being surrounded by loved ones – but the deep, enduring joy that comes from recognizing that you are in need of a Savior, and that Savior was born on Christmas Day.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Where is your focus?
Never has it been so easy to live in half a dozen good harmless worlds at once -- art, music, social science, games, motoring, the following of some profession, and so on. And between them we run the risk of drifting about, the "good" hiding the "best"...
It is easy to find out whether our lives are focused, and if so, where the focus lies. Where do our thoughts settle when consciousness comes back in the morning? Where do they swing back when the pressure is off during the day? ... Dare to have it out with God... and ask Him to show you where or not all is focused on Christ and His glory...
How do we bring things to a focus in the world of optics? Not by looking at the things to be dropped, but by looking at the one point that is to be brought out. Turn your soul's vision to Jesus, and look and look at Him, and a strange dimness will come over all that is apart from Him.
- Lilias Trotter (1853-1928), missionary to Algeria
It is easy to find out whether our lives are focused, and if so, where the focus lies. Where do our thoughts settle when consciousness comes back in the morning? Where do they swing back when the pressure is off during the day? ... Dare to have it out with God... and ask Him to show you where or not all is focused on Christ and His glory...
How do we bring things to a focus in the world of optics? Not by looking at the things to be dropped, but by looking at the one point that is to be brought out. Turn your soul's vision to Jesus, and look and look at Him, and a strange dimness will come over all that is apart from Him.
- Lilias Trotter (1853-1928), missionary to Algeria
On an average Tuesday afternoon
Tuesday, November 28 was a pretty average day - the most routine as they come in my life. I would go so far as to say the day was a fairly boring one. The warmth and rest of Thanksgiving had warn off, and Christmas was still far off. I was spending the week in the office, but my mind was elsewhere. There was nothing special or remarkable about this Tuesday afternoon.
For me, that is. However, a thousand miles away on a blustery South Dakota day, two of my dear friends from college were drinking hot chocolate and getting engaged. Two lives, from that day on, would never be the same. There was nothing routine or boring about this Tuesday afternoon.
It occurred to me, upon hearing the words, "She said yes", that there were countless descriptions of this November Tuesday. For some - perhaps for most - it was "average" as it was for me. For others, the day surely brought great joy; that was certainly the case for my two friends, and I am sure there were others for whom this day brought a new birth, healing from an illness, a new job, or some other thrilling news. At the same time, there were some for whom the world stopped that day: a heartbreak, a death, a great loss.
No two people experience a day in the same way. Nonetheless, whether we are celebrating, grieving, or just getting through, we are all called to respond in the same way:
This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24
I pray that we will all rejoice and be glad, no matter what the day brings.
For me, that is. However, a thousand miles away on a blustery South Dakota day, two of my dear friends from college were drinking hot chocolate and getting engaged. Two lives, from that day on, would never be the same. There was nothing routine or boring about this Tuesday afternoon.
It occurred to me, upon hearing the words, "She said yes", that there were countless descriptions of this November Tuesday. For some - perhaps for most - it was "average" as it was for me. For others, the day surely brought great joy; that was certainly the case for my two friends, and I am sure there were others for whom this day brought a new birth, healing from an illness, a new job, or some other thrilling news. At the same time, there were some for whom the world stopped that day: a heartbreak, a death, a great loss.
No two people experience a day in the same way. Nonetheless, whether we are celebrating, grieving, or just getting through, we are all called to respond in the same way:
This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24
I pray that we will all rejoice and be glad, no matter what the day brings.
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