Improbable and Impossible

While it may not be as true today as it was back in the day when I was growing up, or in the day of Mary and Joseph, a pregnancy like hers was certainly the talk of the village.  Some people are always on the prowl for other people's personal business so they can use it as a source of conversation.  Or, gossip.  Surely, Mary must have heard her share of comments that were spoken just loud enough for her to hear.  Of course, Joseph did not receive a pass either. 

No doubt his dream which is recorded in Matthew' gospel is about his inner battle with his ego as well as his trust in the words of the woman he was to marry.  It took an angel in a dream for Joseph to know he could believe the incredible word Mary was telling him.  Mary, too, found her mind stretched to the point of disbelief.  She was young, but not too young to know about sex and love and family and babies being born.  Very little happened in that world that was hidden and unseen.  As she questioned the visiting angel, she was told, "And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren,  For nothing will be impossible with God." (Luke 1:36-37).   What Mary did was to go and see.  At six months Elizabeth's pregnancy would be no secret.  If she was pregnant, then Mary would have a piece of external validation of what she had heard from heaven.  

When Mary saw Elizabeth, any doubts must have flown far away as she knew Elizabeth's pregnancy was as improbable as hers was impossible. It is no wonder the Christmas season has always been regarded as the season of miracles.  Sometimes the things we face are improbable and sometimes they are impossible.  God proved in those days and in a thousand days since then that neither improbable or impossible can prevent Him from accomplishing what He sets out to do in our lives.

I Shall Rue the Day

 When this pen shall lie silent

   as if it had a voice to speak,

     I shall rue the day

      for there is still much unseen

       which longs for voice

and for those things I speak.

 

I speak words for the voiceless,

   shedding light on the darkness

     of minds too lost to see,

      too hurried for a slower pace,

       too occupied with life

to see the life being missed.

 

So, good Lord, grant one more day

   to see your glory here

    that Your voice I might be

      for the creation around me

        and the souls who do not know

of their blindness and need to see.

 

 

The Balm of Love

Today is a day I have always remembered.  It is day etched in the mind and heart of both my sister and me.  It is the anniversary of the day in 1955 when our father left home one morning and did not return in the evening.  A collision of airplanes near an Air Force Base and over a beach forever changed our lives.  When our mother died during the covid pandemic of 2020, we lost our last connection with him.  Picking up the phone on the anniversary of that day and talking to her was no longer a possibility so we talk to one another.    

This is not to say that my life was stopped that day.  It is hard to go back and find that boy of age seven to know what he felt, but it is likely he did feel that life was somehow suddenly changed.  Of course, it was.  It always is different when we lose someone we love.  Love does not allow us to simply walk away from our loss.  Instead, we are reminded at many junctures along the way into the future of the pain we carry deep within us.  Love and grief are not inseparable emotions, but what we hope for in our own lives and in the lives of those who grieve along the way with us is the prevailing power of love.  

The Word of God tells us love never ends and that it is the greatest thing we can carry in our hearts.  (I Corinthians 13:8, 13).  I John tells us that God is love.  (I John 4:7). Our grief is a result of our love and love is God's answer to our grief.  Our grief may always be with us.  It will come and go.  And, come again.  But, as surely as we grieve, God will come again and again to bathe our heart with the everlasting healing balm of love.

Reading the Story

 Since I served as a preacher for over forty years,  I have seen a lot of Live Nativity Scenes.  Some were sponsored by a community, or several church through a ministerial association, and a good number were offered as a part of the church I served.  I only remember one.  It was one offered by the youth and children of the Perry Church.  An unexpected thing happened as some of the young actors wanted to play different parts.  About every thirty minutes, the Nativity Scene would suddenly become empty as everyone ran to the building.  Those leaving in angels wings came back as shepherds and some wise man got to play the part of Joseph.  It was fun.  It was joyous. It was Christmas.   

 

It is easy for us to lose this part of Christmas as we become so occupied with details that we are unable to experience what the moment is bringing to us.  For too many Christmas is experienced with a gigantic sigh of relief instead of an overwhelming sense of joy.  We must not forget the message of the angel who showed up out there in the darkness where shepherds watched their sheep.  "Do not be afraid; for see--I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people:  to you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord."  (Luke 2:10-11).  Christmas is, of course, about Jesus.  

 

Many times over the years I have heard parents walk around this single truth.  It is easier to talk about Santa Claus and feelings like love and peace.  It is sad.  One day we are likely to have a generation of kids who come to Christmas with the question, "Jesus, who is He?"  A good way to turn the trend in the right direction would be in making the reading of Luke 2 a part of the Christmas gatherings at our church and, more importantly in our homes.

Inconsolable at Christmas

What some people will remember most about Christmas this year will be the people who no longer share it with them.  There is, perhaps, no season which lends itself to so much joy.  It is the season of bright colors, festive wrapping, parties with friends, musical concerts, tables that project the definition of a feast, and gatherings of family.  It is also true that no season lends itself to so much grief.  Grief may initially be experienced in the loss of a presence dear to us, but as days stretch into months and even years of living with them gone, the loss becomes focused on what is lost to them and to us.  Some will find it hard to move through the season of joy without a personal grief which will be unnoticed by most people in the room.

That grief and loss is a part of the story of the Incarnation is something we often miss.  After the wise men from the East came, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream telling him, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child..."  (Matthew 2:13). As Joseph and Mary fled to safety, there was surely relief, but also the loss of family, familiar surroundings, and everything that was a part of their lives.  Herod did search for the child.  Not only did he search, but he also "killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under..." (Matthew 2:16). "wailing and loud lamentations" was indeed visited upon many a family in those days.  It was a time of inconsolable loss and grief.  

It is important that we not miss the grief and loss that some carry into these days. It may be years since some friend has experienced the loss of someone who was greatly loved and very much a part of their lives, but do not dismiss them by thinking they should just get over it.  Grief is not time conscious.  It does not gently knock at the front door of our heart, but instead when it comes, it knocks down the door.  Give grace to those who are forever picking up the pieces.

The Missing Shoe

I wish I did not see all the things I see.  Some folks walked in church this morning and passed by the Nativity Scene characters with a sigh of admiration and appreciation.  It really is something to behold.  There is nothing chintzy about what is just outside the front door.  All the players are on stage and standing there as tall as I am.  This morning though I noticed something odd.  The wise man who was being nuzzled by his camel was not wearing any shoes.  Or, boots.  Or, sandals.  Or, whatever kings are supposed to wear.   

A barefooted king was just too much!  Aside from taking up a collection, I suppose there is nothing that can be done except to recognize that God is like the creators of the Nativity scene.  He is the creator of the unpredictable and full of surprises.  Certainly, Mary and Joseph were surprised with the visit of Gabriel and the message he brought.  Who could have been more surprised than those first century Christians to wake up one morning and hear the news that Saul of Tarsus had become a believer in Jesus?  Of course, a Messiah who died on a cross was too much for anyone to believe!   

Another surprising thing which has never failed to surprise is that God called me to preach.  I always figured when He called me, He was scraping the bottom of the barrel.  Regardless of how we end up living our lives, it is always true that God has blessed us in surprising ways.  When we look back over the span of the years He has given us, we always marvel at the way His hand has brought us to the life we now know.  The life we now know is something which we think of as better than we deserve and also something that is simply another way of naming grace in our life.

A Savior in Bethlehem

The story found in the second chapter of Luke is one that does not grow old.  Every year we long to hear it again.  Christmas is not complete until we sit and listen to those words written so long ago.  Some people hear it in Christmas Eve worship and, indeed, such a setting somehow enriches those sacred words.  Others read it each year around the Christmas tree before any packages are opened.  Even as the Jewish community remembers their story of deliverance each Passover, so do we want to be sure our children know the story of the Christ coming into our world at Bethlehem.   

No matter how many years we have heard it read, there is always a sense of wonder and awe which comes over us as we listen.  We hear the story and catch glimpses of the journey to the City of David.  We hear the story and we look heavenward for the angels which showed up in the fields while shepherds watched their flock.  Finally, we hear the story with ears listening for the sound of a new born baby crying out its first sounds. For those who truly have hearts that are hungry, the words of the story are heard again and again as if for the first time.   

There was truly something holy and mysterious about that night long ago in Bethlehem.  How can our finite minds fathom the reality of God emptying Himself of all the glories of heaven for a moment of birthing midst the smell of hay and animal dung?  Who can put together the wooden cradle and the wooden cross which awaits the child of Bethlehem?  How can such a life and death as His set us free from the regrets of life lived wrong, the guilt of those choices, and the sin which seems like a heavy unbearable and impossible to remove weight upon our soul?   There is the story we read each Christmas and then there is the story of salvation, deliverance, and resurrection which is written between the lines.  A Savior was born that night long ago.  He is a Savior still needed by each and every one of us.