The Angelic Advent Anthem

This Advent song in Luke’s gospel is also the most familiar .

The first song, Mary’s Magnificat in Luke 1:46-56, celebrated God’s mercy for choosing her, a peasant girl, to be the mother of the messiah and King of the Jews.

The second song in Luke was a blessing from Zechariah, an old priest. After insisting that his son would be called John, Zechariah’s muted voice erupted with the Benedictus or “blessing.”

Today, we consider the third song recorded in Luke. It’s not only the most familiar, but—consisting of only 17 English words packed into two lines—it’s the shortest.

Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!

Before we consider these familiar lyrics spoken by an angelic choir, let’s revisit the context surrounding the story. Perhaps we’ll discover a few things that may challenge some of our cherished memories.

First, I have always imagined Mary as being nine months pregnant when she and Joseph made the trek to Bethlehem. I have felt compassion for Mary, “great with child,” as the King James renders it, walking up through the Judean hills towards Bethlehem. Many Christmas depictions show her riding a donkey. That would have been a blessing, if not uncomfortable, but Scripture says nothing about a donkey. By the most direct route, they were looking at a journey of around 70 miles. Most Jews, however, avoided this road, because it required traveling through Samaria. Whatever their chosen course, it would take several days, perhaps a week. Certainly not a “cake-walk” for a pregnant woman.

Recently I was challenged to search the biblical accounts of Jesus’ birth. I discovered there is nothing in the text to confirm or deny the common opinion that Mary was in her ninth month of pregnancy. Luke only says she was “with child,” or pregnant. He simply reports that “while they were there” in Bethlehem, labor began. Was it right away upon arrival? Or could it have been days—maybe weeks—later? The Bible doesn’t say.

Matthew includes the account of Joseph’s dream, in which an angel of the Lord had instructed him to not reject Mary. Matthew adds this comment, “When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: he took his wife but knew her not (abstained from sexual relationship) until she had given birth…” (Mt. 1:25)

Nothing is said about the trip to Bethlehem but in the very next verse we discover Mary has given birth to Jesus in that village. I wonder if they left Nazareth very soon after Mary returned from visiting Elizabeth, when she would have been three months pregnant. If they left at that time, they would have lived several months in Bethlehem before Jesus was born. If this was the situation, then how do we explain the fact there was “no room” in the lodging place or guest room in the house? What if they had been renting a guest room in Bethlehem until the town was filled with people coming to register for the census? Did the demand for housing become so severe they lost their room? Or was delivering a baby in the guest room too inconvenient, so they ended up in a place reserved for livestock? This possibility began to make sense when I remembered staying at a bed and breakfast on a mission trip to Austria. Attached to the home where we were lavishly entertained was a livestock barn. The milk and eggs were very fresh at breakfast the next morning.

We really don’t know all the details about the Christmas story, but we each have our favorite traditional rendering.

One thing is certain in Luke’s account: Jesus was placed in a manger and swaddled tightly in cloth for warmth and security.

Now… back to the angel of the Lord appearing to shepherds working the night shift. The appearance of an angel must have been startling, but when “the glory of the Lord shown around them” the shepherds were “filled with great fear.” They were shaking in their sandals. And who wouldn’t be?

The angel shared “good news of great joy that will be for all the people.” In other words, happy news for common shepherds and people like you and me. Suddenly a multitude (large choir) of angels appeared and began praising God and saying (I like to think they were singing),

Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!

Note how the song begins with a doxology, glorifying God who lives in the highest heaven. The focus of the second line speaks of peace on earth for people upon whom God has poured out grace and mercy. This would be the mission of the baby in the manger: He lived the life we couldn’t live and paid the debt we could never pay, dying for us to remove our sin and guilt.

Have we become so used to that massive truth that it no longer creates wonder in our hearts? Have we lost the sense of awe over sins utterly wiped away by our Lord’s sacrifice? As Paul noted in his letter to the church at Colosse, “You were dead because of your sins ad because your sinful nature was not yet cut away. Then God made you alive with Christ, for he forgave all your sins. He canceled the record of the charges against us and took it away by nailing it to the cross.” (Colossians 2:13-14, NLT) )

Because Jesus came and voluntarily died in our place, God can now express his pleasure on those he has redeemed and pronounced righteous through faith in Jesus Christ. That can be you and me, and that is what makes the Christmas story special.

Christmas 2020 may seem darker, but the light of the gospel gives us reason to add our voices with the shepherds as we glorify and praise God for his boundless love and amazing grace. Like the shepherds, let’s share the good news with those still struggling in darkness.

With all the busyness of the season, let’s pause to ponder with Mary who “treasured up all these things.”

A Father’s Blessing

The birth of a first-born baby may be one of the most exuberating experiences in life. I remember driving home from the hospital after the birth of our son, Dan. It had been a long, arduous labor for Mary. We had been at the hospital two days, and I was sleep deprived, but I had no trouble staying awake on the half hour drive home. Sleepy? Are you kidding? I was a father of a beautiful, baby boy! (Did I tell he was a 8 lb. 13 oz. hunk?) There were several little newborns squirming in cribs as I peered through the nursery window before leaving the hospital.

But I only remember seeing one.

Even back home at the parsonage I couldn’t sleep. After all, I was a father  —a Dad!—and needed to tell everybody!

I suspect Zechariah, the old Jewish priest, felt the same way when his son was born. Problem was, he couldn’t share the joy because he was mute. Truly speechless! The cause wasn’t any excitement over his son’s birth, but rather a lapse of faith. Ever since that day, almost a year before, when he had questioned the angel how his elderly wife could possibly bear a son at her age, the priest had not spoken a word.

For nine months Zechariah and Elizabeth were filled with anticipation. Finally the day arrived and they welcomed a healthy baby boy. (No surprise about his gender; the angel had made that very clear.)

Eight days later extended family and friends gathered to celebrate.  (Perhaps it was like a contemporary baby shower—except the rite of circumcision, of course.)

I try to imagine what it might have felt like for Zechariah when everyone in the house was laughing and talking, while he sat silently by himself. They wouldn’t deliberately ignore him, but it was so clumsy trying to communicate with a mute. Did he feel like he was invisible?

When it came time to name the baby, all the guests assumed the baby would carry the name of his father, Zechariah. But Elizabeth pushed back, insisting he was to be named, John. Finally, somebody remembered that Zechariah was in the room and asked what he, the father, wanted to call the baby. Motioning for parchment and a writing utensil, Zechariah began to write with bold strokes, “His name IS JOHN!” The name the angel had given.

At that very moment he opened his mouth and began to speak. Words flowed from his lips like singing lyrics from a familiar song. A song composed during those long, silent months. As he sang, Zechariah pronounced blessings upon God and on his baby son. Today we call this song, The Benedictus, from the Latin word for blessing, the first word in the song. To bless someone is to speak well of them such as the eulogy at a funeral.

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he has visited and redeemed is people
and has raised up a horn of salvation for us
in the house of his servant David,
as he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets of old,
that we should be saved from our enemies
and from the hand of all who hate us;
to show the mercy promised to our fathers
and to remember his holy covenant,
the oath that he swore to our father Abraham, to grant us
that we, being delivered from the hand of our enemies,
might serve him without fear,
in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.
And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
to give knowledge of salvation to his people
in the forgiveness of their sins,
because of the tender mercy of our God,
whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Luke 1:68-79, ESV)

Zechariah begins his song by blessing or praising God for coming to redeem and rescue his people, Israel, just as the prophets had promised long ago. God had remembered his covenant with Abraham to bless him and to make his descendants a blessing to the world. All this would come to pass through the birth, life and death of Mary’s baby boy.

Zechariah’s focus turns to his own little baby boy, and predicts that John will be the promised prophet of the Most High, announcing the arrival of the Messiah who will bring salvation and forgiveness of sin. Jesus’ ministry would be like a magnificent sunrise dispelling the darkness and hopelessness that had settled on Israel under foreign occupation. His coming will bring shalom —true peace— to the world. 

Has there ever been a more noble, more powerful blessing of a father over his child? Every blessing Zechariah pronounced over his new born son came to pass. John was that bold voice calling for repentance in preparation for the coming Messiah. John also had the privilege to announce, “Behold. the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world!” Zechariah’s fatherly blessing over the cradle of his baby boy is still good news in 2020.

So with all the Christmas carols we enjoy, let’s also sing with Zechariah this Christmas. Let’s bless and praise God for honoring his covenant to make Israel a blessing for the nations.

Only he, Mary’s baby boy, can and will bring true shalom in our fractured and desperate world.

The First Christmas Carol

What’s not to like about Christmas?

Family gatherings (at least before COVID19), festive lights and decorations, gifts under a tree and Christmas carols make this the favorite holiday for most of us. The commercialized Christmas is another story with its credit card debt and Black Friday sales starting earlier every year. But, that’s not really Christmas, is it?

So, what’s not to like about the the biblical narrative surrounding the first advent? There we discover real drama with real characters facing real danger- but also filled with joyful expectation. We meet angels, awe-filled shepherds, wealthy magi and a paranoid king. But most of all, we are invited to visit a newborn baby wrapped in rags and clutching to life in the arms of first-time mother in a strange village far from her home. All this and more make it a wonderful story. But, was there any music? Did anybody in this drama sing or dance or weep? Was anyone so moved by the news to compose songs?

Yes, and those songs are what we want to reflect upon for the next few weeks of Advent.

The first song celebrating Jesus’ birth came from the lips of his mother. We discover Mary’s song in Luke 1:46 – 56. Having accepted God’s will to become the mother of a baby, born out of wedlock with all the shame attached, left her family in Nazareth to visit her aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Zechariah in the hills of Judea. Mary must have felt overwhelmed by the angel’s message and all the complications involved with her new mission, I believe she composed this beautiful song while enroute to visit Elizabeth who was herself six-months pregnant

Upon entering Zechariah’s home, Mary was greeted by Elizabeth boisterously shouting, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.”

What a greeting! How in the world did Elizabeth know about Mary’s recent experiences and her “secret” pregnancy? There’s only one answer. Elizabeth was speaking through the Holy Spirit.

Mary responded with a song I like to think of it as the first Christmas Carol.:

My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
And his mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
he has brought down the mighty from their thrones
and exalted those of humble estate;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
as he spoke to our fathers,
to Abraham and to his offspring forever. (Luke 1:46-55. ESV

Mary’s song has been called “The Magnificat” because the first word in the Latin version, megalynei means to enlarge or to make something great. Mary is “magnifying” the Lord by describing God in ways that makes Him appear very great.

Note that Mary didn’t simply say, “I magnify the Lord.” No, that would be too feeble to express the deep emotions flooding through her very soul. She sings, “My soul magnifies…” This was authentic soul music reverberating from every cell in her body. She is boasting about what God was doing in her life. There is no lament about the difficulties facing her back in Nazareth. No fear or anxiety about the future, only praise for who God is and what he is doing. Her God is holy, eternal, powerful and full of mercy. He cares about injustice. He brings down the proud and the mighty and raises up the week and meek. He feeds the hungry and sends the power brokers home empty handed. She knows because only a few days ago she was the daughter of a poor peasant in Nazareth, considered by some as the “armpit” of the nation. Today she is singing like a princess, soon to be the mother of a king – The One True King over all kings!

She magnifies God because He has kept the promise that he made to Abraham’s descendants. She sings because her little baby boy will accomplish all the above and more.

Now that’s a powerful song! So relevant were those words 2,000 years ago when powerful Rome ruled and the hungry and homeless were neglected by religious leaders.

And those words are just as relevant today. How contemporary the Magnifact remains! Mary’s little boy is the promised child in Isaiah who will someday rule the universe. But, he must first suffer and die in the place of condemned sinners. Even his own mother has confessed that she too falls short of the mark when she sings, “my God and my Savior.”

Christmas, 2020, may feel different. We have been discouraged, even forbidden, to travel or gather with our extended families. People will be isolated in nursing homes or quarantined in an ICU unit on Christmas Eve. Some may even die alone with no family member present.

It is not a “normal” Christmas celebration this year. The world feels darker.

But, let’s sing with Mary because that baby boy in Bethlehem, that man touching the untouchable leper and loving the castoffs is the man hanging on a Roman cross praying, “Father forgive them…” That Christmas baby was, and is, God wrapped in flesh. He’s the faithful father waiting, watching for the prodigal to return. He is the good shepherd searching for the lost sheep. He is all this and more. He is the king of glory!

Although we may not enjoy a traditional Christmas, we can join Mary and magnify our Lord and Savior who “has looked upon our humble and broken state” and came on the greatest search and rescue mission in history.

Let There be Light

Let there be light” are the first spoken words recorded in the Bible.

Those four words in Genesis 1:3, “Let there be light,” are like a flash of lightning following this description of the origin of the universe: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.” (Gen. 1:1,2 ESV) Those words set the stage for the rest of the Bible.

Let’s revisit this familiar story, a true story. But today, here on the Front Porch Swing, let’s not read for evidence to prove how God created the universe or how long it took. Let’s focus on the who behind creation.

In the beginning, God…” Before time began, before the first tick of the cosmic clock and before the first moment in history, God existed.

God created the heavens and the earth.” Everything in this wonderful and immeasurable universe had a beginning and a creator.

The earth was without form and void…” The focus is on planet earth, this home that God was preparing for human beings. “Without form” suggests unfinished, without structure. “Void” suggests unfilled or empty – something was still lacking.

and darkness was over the face of the deep.” The author of Genesis is setting the stage for the bolt of lightning in verse 3. Darkness is a void, the absence of something- light.

“And the Spirit of God was hovering over…”  The work wasn’t finished. The earth existed, but it was not suitable for life in this “not yet finished” state. Everything is waiting for the Great Architect to finish the job. Here is the way Isaiah described it: “For thus says the Lord, who created the heavens (he is God!), who formed the earth and made it (he established it; he did not create it empty, he formed it to be inhabited!): I am the Lord, and there is no other.” (Isaiah 45:18, ESV)

Are you ready for the next big event in the narrative? Over this unfinished construction project – this pervasive darkness and this silent void – we hear the first spoken words in Scripture: “Let there be light!” (Fill the void with light! Finish the unfinished! Make everything good!) and there was light. And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.” (Genesis 1:3–5, ESV)

The remainder of Genesis 1 and 2 describe how God prepares the earth for plants and animals, but especially for men and women to manage and enjoy.

The narrative takes a dark turn in chapter 3. Disobedience resulted in eviction from paradise. Everything was damaged, seemingly beyond repair. A perpetual partial eclipse enveloped the earth and life became a dreary shadowland with occasional sunbreaks.

Certainly 2020 has felt that way, hasn’t it? Covid19 stealthily lurks on every surface, and a spirit of anarchy seems to be spreading across the globe. But, we anticipate a new vaccine and a happier new year in 2021.

That pretty much describes human history. Epochs of rebellion against God and the resulting harvests of discipline have been followed by bursts of light and hope.

Consider Noah, a righteous living in a spiritually and morally dark time. His story is like a point of light. Forty dark days of torrential rain in the belly of the great ship, followed by colorful sunlit prisms and the first rainbow, must have been amazing. God promised Noah that sunrise would follow sunset and summer follow springtime throughout time.

Moses’ eyes and heart were captured by the light in a burning bush. The ninth, in a series of ten plagues, brought three days of darkness so deep it could be felt. Have you ever felt darkness? I know you can’t see darkness, but standing in a dark cave with all lights turned off and all lanterns extinguished is eerie. I have heard it described as “you can almost feel it.” Israel also encountered the living God when the mountain burned with fire and flashes of lightning. It was as if God once again said, “Let there be light.”

The rest of Scripture is punctuated with references to light overcoming darkness.

Isaiah predicted that the birth of Jesus would bring light into the spiritual darkness of the nations: “But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish. In the former time he brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time he has made glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations. The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone.” (Isaiah 9:1–2, ESV)

Isaiah added, “Thus says God, the Lord, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people on it and spirit to those who walk in it: “I am the Lord; I have called you in righteousness; I will take you by the hand and keep you; I will give you as a covenant for the people, a light for the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.” (Isaiah 42:5–7, ESV)

Speaking of Israel, God said, “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to bring back the preserved of Israel; I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”” (Isaiah 49:6, ESV)

Zechariah spoke these words after proclaiming that his new born son would be called John: “And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people in the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”” (Luke 1:76–79, ESV)

Simeon, running the final lap of his life and  holding the 40 day-old baby Jesus in his arms prayed, “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.” (Luke 2:29–32, ESV)

The apostle John echoes Genesis 1:1 when he begins his gospel, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light. The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.” (John 1:1–9, ESV)

John also quotes Jesus, “And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.”” (John 3:19–21, ESV)

Jesus, himself, emphatically declared, “I am the light of the world.”  (John 8:12; 12:46))

Today, we live in a shadowland. Once again, the light is becoming very dim. It feels like evil is winning. In fact, Paul refers to the battle between good and evil  – between light and darkness – as “This present darkness”  (Eph. 6:11)

Another Advent season is here. Advent is all about light coming into the world, and Christmas is a season filled with light. As we celebrate Jesus’ first advent, let’s anticipate his second when he will return to earth to eradicate sin and darkness forever. Let’s take a moment to bask in the next advent of light, as John describes it in the book of Revelation.

“And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb. By its light will the nations walk, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it,” (Revelation 21:23–24, ESV)

“And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.” (Revelation 22:5, ESV)

This advent season, let us sing and shout, “Let there be light!”

Looking Forward

As a child, I eagerly looked forward to Christmas and birthdays. Mostly, I confess, for the anticipated gifts

One Christmas remains fixed in memory. As the magical day approached and gifts began to collect under the tree, I kept watching for a uniquely shaped package—one that might possibly conceal a Daisy Red Ryder BB gun.

I believe that we human beings have been hardwired by our Creator with a sense of anticipation. We look forward to special days, special achievements, and reaching long-desired goals. A person with nothing to anticipate, nothing to look forward to and nothing to strive for, is in a very bad place. 

Remember counting the days until your 16th birthday and a driver’s license? I certainly do. Other milestones follow: graduations, marriage, parenthood and career advancements. Life is filled with pleasant and difficult episodes linked by the hope that things will turn out well.

That’s also the storyline in the Bible. After the fall and subsequent judgments, God promised to send a deliverer who would defeat the evil invader and lift the curse that had fallen over the entire creation. Anticipation of that promise—like a flaming torch—was passed from generation to generation throughout the Old Testament. 

The New Testament opens with breaking news delivered by angels. Their message? The promised deliverer had at last been born.  The four gospels record Jesus’ teaching and miracles—and the simmering hostility that would boil over into His arrest and violent death. The serpent appeared to have dealt a deathblow at the cross. But all of those dashed hopes were restored on that incomparable Sunday morning when Jesus walked out the tomb under His own power. 

I love the way Luke 24 quotes two of Christ’s followers, who had witnessed their Lord’s crucifixion: “We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.” They had given up hope, trudging back to the village of Emmaus, kicking stones along the way, feeling as empty as they had ever felt in their lives. But the story wasn’t over, was it? And what was it about that Stranger who seemed to join them out of nowhere on the long walk home? Listening to the resurrected Jesus—hidden for a moment from their recognition—share that the Old Testament prophets had predicted His death and resurrection re-ignited the smoldering flame of hope.

The rest of the New Testament is awash with hope.

The book of Acts opens with a promise that Jesus will return. As His disciples stand with gaping mouths watching Jesus ascend into heaven, an angel said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way you saw him go into heaven” (Acts 1:10, 11 esv). What would it have been like—watching Jesus defy the law of gravity and rise up into the clear blue sky? I really can’t imagine. But the promise that He will someday visibly return ought to motivate everything that I do.

Anticipation of Jesus’ return to earth sustained and motivated followers of Jesus throughout the New Testament. From Paul’s magnum opus to the Romans through Jude’s brief letter the promise of Christ’s return is offered as hope to early Christians. That same hope, that anticipation of Christ’s return at any moment, ought to encourage us today.

Hope in Christ’s return provides encouragement to endure suffering. Paul reminded believers in Rome that, no matter how severe their hardships and heartbreaks became, they were insignificant compared to the glory yet to come—glory not only for people like Paul, but also for all creation that had also been suffering under the curse. Five times, in just three short sentences, Paul offers the word hope to encourage his readers in hard times (Romans 8:24, 25).

Peter encouraged Christians that were suffering harsh persecution to “set your hope on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation (return) of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:13). 

Anticipation of Jesus’ return motivates us to live godly lives.  In his letter to Titus, Paul writes that Jesus’ promised return should motivate us to live godly lives: “For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works.” (Titus 2:11–14, ESV)

John also encourages his readers to live holy lives in anticipation of Jesus’ return: “And now, little children, abide in him, so that when he appears we may have confidence and not shrink from him in shame at his coming. If you know that he is righteous, you may be sure that everyone who practices righteousness has been born of him. See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure.” (1 John 2:28–3:3, ESV)

Hope in Christ’s return comforts believers in times of loss and death. Grief is a normal, even healthy, response when a loved one has died. However, we do not need to bgrieve like those without hope because we can anticipate Christ’s return. “But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words.” (1 Thessalonians 4:13–18, ESV)

Hope in Jesus’ return provides confidence and stamina to finish strongly. The author of Hebrews encouraged Christians that were experiencing pressure to abandon their faith. He offers a list of Old Testament characters that endured hardship through hope; he points to Jesus as the ultimate model for enduring hardship through hope: Jesus, “for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising the shame and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:1-3).

The resurrection Christ and the promise of his return provided motivation for Christians in Corinth to finish well: “Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.” (1 Corinthians 15:58, ESV) No trial is insurmountable, and no task is insignificant if we truly believe Jesus will return to judge and to reward.

I believe that hope is like a thread that binds the New Testament letters and their readers together. This hope is more than a doctrinal truth to claim or to debate; it is a promise to anticipate in good times and bad.

Paul began a letter to the church at Thessalonica with a prayer of thanks, remembering their “steadfastness of hope” in Jesus, and how they turned to God from idols to serve Him and to wait for His Son from heaven.

I close with Paul’s prayer of blessing on his friends in Thessalonica: “Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word” (2 Thessalonians 2:16).

Christ’s return is the promise that we can cling to and the hope that sustains through thick or thin.

No matter where we are in life—in the strength and beauty of youth or in our final days in a nursing home—we have something to look forward to that is better than a thousand Christmases. More precious than any present you could dream or imagine, wrapped and under the tree. 

On the day that we close our eyes on earth and open them in heaven, we will experience, face to face, what we have known in our hearts all along. Hope has a Name.

Jesus.

Passing the Baton/witness

The most critical moment in a relay race takes place when one runner passes the baton off to the next runner.

The all-important handoff.

It’s my favorite event at any track meet. Relay races are run by four-member teams. Each member is responsible for sprinting a certain distance and must pass the baton to the member waiting ahead. It may look easy. It isn’t. If the runners drop the baton during the transfer—the game is over. It doesn’t matter how fast each runner may be.

I recently discovered that in some parts of the world, the baton is called the “witness.” How appropriate is that word when applied to passing on the faith from one generation to another!

In previous posts I have suggested that the Bible stories are threaded together with hope in the promise God made in Genesis 3:15. Everything changed after Adam and Eve disobeyed God. The man, his wife, the serpent and even nature itself fell under the curse. In the midst of all these tragic consequences, however, God also promised that “the seed of the woman” would someday completely destroy the lying serpent.

Confidence or hope in that promise was passed from generation to generation through righteous people like Seth, Enoch, Noah and Abraham. There was another family line that chose to disregard God and ignore the promise. The history of the Old Testament is a record of the struggle between these two people groups. Through Abraham, the baton (or witness) was passed down through generations of Israelites. But not everyone held onto the baton. The Bible tells of many muffed handoffs—and the tragic consequences that followed. Disobeying God’s commands, despising His promises, and turning to idol worship resulted in severe consequences, including famine, invading armies and eventually exile from the Promised Land.

In these severe times of God’s discipline prophets like Isaiah would pick up the baton/witness and exhort the nation to get back on the right track. Seeking to rekindle hope when everything seemed hopeless, these godly men reminded the nation of God’s promise to send the promised seed.

This was Isaiah’s mission when Judah was facing imminent invasion from a far superior Syrian army. God sent his prophet to challenge King Ahaz to ask for a sign—for proof—that that God would deliver Judah from Syria. Ahaz had drifted so far off the path, however, that he refused to ask for a sign. Isaiah responded with these words: “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14, esv).

There it is! The promise that a child would be born to a virgin Jewess. He, the seed of the woman (not a man and woman) would be called Immanuel or “God with us.” Isaiah gripped the baton/witness and continued:

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone. … For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forevermore. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this. The Lord has sent a word against Jacob, and it will fall on Israel.” (Isaiah 9:2–8, esv)

Note the names of this unique promised child: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of peace. How encouraging and hopeful these titles should have been to Judah, now facing military invasion from Syria. Today we recognize that child as Jesus of Nazareth.

Jeremiah, another prophet, was sent to bring hope to the people of Judah who were now living in exile in Babylon. Far from home and wondering what the future held—or if there even was a future for Judah—Jeremiah sent a message offering them hope:

“For thus says the Lord: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you.” (Jeremiah 29:10–12, esv)

Hope that had been smoldering under a heavy blanket of despair would be reignited.

God also sent other prophets to Israel. Here’s Malachi’s warning of judgment, shot through with transcendent hope and joy.

But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall…. Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the great and awesome day of the Lord comes. And he will turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers, lest I come and strike the land with a decree of utter destruction.”” (Malachi 4:1–6, esv)

That would be the last prophecy recorded in the Old Testament. There would be 400 years between the older and newer testaments without a prophet like Isaiah or Jeremiah. Four long, painful centuries scarred by invasions and occupations of foreign armies. Yet throughout those 400 years there remained a remnant, sustained by hope in Malachi’s promise that another prophet like Elijah would someday announce the arrival of the promised seed.

This small remnant of faithful believers passed the baton/witness on to give hope to their children and grandchildren.

The New Testament opens with good news about the birth of the promised seed. God, who had once walked with Adam and Eve in paradise, would now come to live among His people. Matthew begins his gospel with a long genealogy to authenticate that the promised seed was indeed a son of Abraham. Luke traces the genealogy of Jesus all the way back to Adam, who first received God’s promise that the seed of the woman would destroy the great destroyer, Satan.

With the season of Advent approaching, let’s revisit the story. Here’s Matthew’s version reaching back to Isaiah’s prophecy:

Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly. But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us). (Matthew 1:18–23, esv)

Matthew includes the visit of Magi, who had been searching the Scriptures and the heavens for the sign promised way back in Numbers 24:17: “I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near: a star shall come out of Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel; it shall crush the forehead of Moab and break down all the sons of Sheth” (Numbers 24:17, esv) Matthew also records Herod’s malicious attempt to destroy the baby, the promised seed.

Luke shares the story of common shepherds receiving a birth announcement of the promised seed.

And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” (Luke 2:10–14, esv)

Luke also introduces us to Simeon, an old man filled with hope and clinging to the baton/witness with all the strength that remained to him. His face is weathered by harsh years. With trembling hands and throbbing heart, he holds the infant seed of the woman close to his breast. Here’s the way Luke described it:

Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. And he came in the Spirit into the temple, and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him according to the custom of the Law, he took him up in his arms and blessed God and said,

“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace,

according to your word;

for my eyes have seen your salvation

that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,

a light for revelation to the Gentiles,

and for glory to your people Israel.”

And his father and his mother marveled at what was said about him. And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.” (Luke 2:25–35, esv)

Isn’t it a wonderful story? From Genesis through Malachi and through the 400 turbulent years between the testaments, hope in the promise survived because the baton—the witness—was never lost.

We’ll pick of the story next week and discover how hope is the thread that binds all 27 New Testament books together.

Passing on the Promise

Hope is like an unbreakable thread that weaves all the Bible stories into one great story.

Hope can make the difference between life and death. Survivors of Nazi death camps and prisoners of war often claim they survived, while others died, because they clung to the hope of rescue.

So what is this powerful, invisible force called hope?

Right off the top, hope is not wishful thinking. In the old Disney cartoons, Jiminy Cricket used to sing, “When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true.”

That’s not hope at all. Real, biblical hope is an overwhelming conviction that things will improve. It is the iron-clad certainty that we will get through this crisis—any crisis, including impending death—because we have confidence in something. Or Somebody.

Hope is more than an emotion; it is more like an action word, requiring an object. Biblical hope is anchored in God’s character and promises. That sounds a lot like the word “faith” or “trust,” doesn’t it? In fact, hope and faith are used almost synonymously in Scripture. Like two sides of the same coin.

This is how the writer of Hebrews expresses it:

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by it the people of old received their commendation. (Hebrews 11:1–2, esv)

Note how faith is described as the assurance (confidence or deep-seated conviction) that something we “hope for” is as good as done. I recently read a definition of hope as declaring something will be done and has already been done. We can take it to the bank because God promised it. Without hope (or faith) it is almost impossible to hang in there when tragedies and difficult times sweep over us in wave after heartbreaking wave.

Consider Job, who in the midst of severe and relentless suffering almost lost hope. At least that’s how he described himself in this lament.: “My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle and come to their end without hope” (Job 7:6, esv).

Job didn’t understand why he was suffering. He didn’t realize that he was like a pawn in a cosmic chess match. All he knew was that his life had turned completely upside down for no apparent reason, and that heaven had gone totally silent. Hope may have been flickering like a candle in the wind, but Job somehow kept his grip of faith on God. And that faith sustained him in the darkest of nights. Listen to these declarations:

Though he (God) slay me, I will hope in him; yet I will argue my ways to his face. This will be my salvation, that the godless shall not come before him.” (Job 13:15–16, esv)

All my intimate friends abhor me, and those whom I loved have turned against me. My bones stick to my skin and to my flesh, and I have escaped by the skin of my teeth. … Oh that my words were written! Oh that they were inscribed in a book! Oh that with an iron pen and lead they were engraved in the rock forever! For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another. My heart faints within me! (Job 19:19- 20, 23–27, esv)

 Job may have felt he was on his last legs, but he continued to cling to the hope that God would rescue and vindicate him. The thread of hope may have been frayed, but it didn’t break.

So why do I offer the word hope as the thread that binds the Bible stories together? Because the Bible makes that claim for itself: “For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope” (Romans 15:4, esv).

Did you catch that? The stories in the Old Testament were recorded to encourage people like us, and to give hope in the midst of trials. So let’s revisit a few of those stories about people who overcome severe adversity through hope. That shouldn’t be difficult, because the eleventh chapter of Hebrews is a short list of men and women who endured severe trials through confidence in the promised seed.

The story began with the creation of the universe. The focus is upon two persons flourishing in paradise, and the most anticipated moment of every perfect day was a personal visit from their Creator. That changed, however, after a brief encounter with the lying serpent. On the heels of that rebellion, every relationship was now fractured by fear, guilt and shame. The consequences of our first parents’ disobedience were harsh, but God also introduced a new word—hope. Hope in the promised seed of the woman that would one day destroy the serpent and restore paradise on earth.

The rest of the Bible contains the history of the struggle between two divergent family groups that descend from Adam and Eve—two distinct cultures with two diametrically opposing visions for establishing a kingdom on earth. One family group anticipates the promised seed of the woman; their stories are recorded in Hebrews 11.

The author of Hebrews introduces Cain and Abel, two sons of Adam and Eve. Abel’s offering from the flock was motivated by faith (perhaps faith in the promised seed). Abel’s offering was accepted, while Cain’s offering from the fruit of the ground was rejected. In the hours that followed, Cain ignored God’s offer of mercy, and in jealous anger killed his brother. Cain became a fugitive “from the presence of the Lord,” and the father of the rebels seeking to build a kingdom on earth apart from God. Lamech, seventh generation from Cain, became the first recorded bigamist and a boastful murderer (Genesis 4:16-24).

Seth, Adam’s third son, isn’t mentioned in Hebrews, but the book of Genesis introduces him after the story of Lamech. Juxtaposing Lamech with Seth, even though separated by seven generations, presents a stark contrast between these two family lines.

Seth is presented in Genesis as the replacement son for godly Abel, and the contrast between these two families is so apparent when the second generation from Seth, Enosh, is described as “At that time people began to call upon the name of the Lord” (Genesis 4:26, esv). The contrast is even more obvious when Enoch, seventh generation from Seth, was a righteous man who “walked with God” and was taken to heaven without dying (Genesis 4:18; Hebrews 11:5,6). Hope in the promised seed bound Enoch’s heart with God’s.

The next hero of faith in Hebrews 11:7 is Noah, who “being warned by God concerning events as yet unseen, in reverent fear constructed an ark for the saving of his household. By this he condemned the world and became an heir of the righteousness that comes by faith.” I like to imagine it this way: Hope in the promise motivated Noah to build a ship. Hope sent the dove on a reconnaissance mission. Hope built the altar upon departing the ark.

Abraham is the next person introduced in the list. If ever a man lived by faith in God’s promises, it was Abraham. With no title dded in hand—only God’s promise—and not knowing where he was going, he left homeland and kindred to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God” (Hebrews 11:4–10, esv).

In hope he surveyed the land from Dan to Beersheba. In hope he built altars and dug wells and planted trees. As Abraham’s relationship with God became more intimate, his confidence in God’s promises grew deeply until he was willing to sacrifice his son, Isaac—the seed bearer—believing God would raise him from the dead. Paul described it this way: “Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed” (Romans 4:18, niv).

Abraham passed this same hope on to Jacob, who in turn passed it on to his sons. Joseph, the next to the youngest, became an Egyptian prince, but continued to claim the promise, and in hope requested that he be buried in the land promised to Abraham.

The next great man of faith listed in Hebrews was raised as an Egyptian prince but never forgot that he was a Hebrew—a son of Adam and Noah and Abraham. “By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward. By faith he left Egypt, not being afraid of the anger of the king, for he endured as seeing him who is invisible. By faith he kept the Passover and sprinkled the blood, so that the Destroyer of the firstborn might not touch them (Hebrews 11:23-28, esv). Facing hardship after hardship and forty years in the desert, Moses never lost hope.

Moses passed this hope on to Joshua, who although not listed by name in Hebrews, led the Israelites in the conquest of the Promised Land.Here we meet a Canaanite woman, Rahab the prostitute. Why would a Canaanite prostitute enter the story of the promised seed? Rumors about the exodus out of Egypt, the parting of the Red Sea and the conquest of Moab and Edom had reached the Canaanites. They could see the Israelites camped across the Jordan preparing to invade and conquer. Most of the Canaanites disregarded the imminent danger or prepared for battle. Rahab, in hope, hid the Hebrew spies because she chose to believe in the promise of the God of Israel. She, a prostitute destined for destruction, became the great, great grandmother of King David.

The author of Hebrews summarizes several generations of keepers of the promise: “And what more shall I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets— who through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. Women received back their dead by resurrection. Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, so that they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment” (Hebrews 11:32–40, esv).

That’s the power of hope that enables people to withstand imprisonment in Nazi death camps. Hope sustains Christian hostages facing torture or death at the hands of Muslim extremists today.

Next week we will consider how that hope was passed on from Old Testament believers to the people we meet in the New Testament.

The Bible, like all great literature, is a story of the struggle between good and evil. Sometimes the evil villains appear to be winning, and everything seems hopeless. But in the end, the good hero is victorious. Let’s revisit a few of these conflicts in the big story of the Bible.

In paradise the evil villain, the lying serpent and chief rebel against the Creator King, perverts God’s words and entices Eve to cross the line into rebellion. Cain, joins the rebellion. Behind the scenes I see the serpent trying to stamp out the line of the promised seed. Seth is introduced as the leader of those who remain loyal to God. Cain’s descendants seek to build cities and disregard God’s moral laws. The two distinct family groups intermingle and evil, like leaven, infiltrates everything until it appears the righteous line—carriers—of the promised seed—will be overwhelmed, but God intervenes with a universal flood to protect the human race from destroying itself.

The tower of Babel is another example of human efforts to build the kingdom without God.

So who motivated Sarai to circumvent God’s plan by encouraging Abraham to raise up seed through Hagar? Who motivated Pharaoh to attempt genocide against the Hebrews by decreeing the death of all male Hebrew babies?

Who motivated Saul to pursue innocent David, the bearer of the promised seed?

Perhaps those are enough examples of the struggle between good and evil in the older testament to convince us there is a cosmic battle that rages on to this very day and hour. There is an enemy who seeks to prevent the promise in Genesis 3:15 from coming to pass. Even the Christmas story in the gospels has a dark side, as Satan uses the despotic, paranoid King Herod to kill all male children age two years and younger living in Bethlehem.

Here is my prayer for you today; it’s really Paul’s prayer of blessing upon the believers in Rome: “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope (Romans 15:12–13, esv).

The Best, Best Seller

Why do only a few books rise to the New York Times bestseller list? Why do some stories leap across cultural and language barriers or get passed down from generation to generation?

In other words, what makes a good story? That was a question in the previous post on the Front Porch Swing.

A great story has a plot with a protagonist (the good guy in the white hat) and an antagonist (the evil vermin). Sometimes it seems that the evil villain is winning and all hope is lost, but we know better, don’t we? We know that, eventually, the hero will win. Meanwhile, we are drawn into the struggle as we identify with our hero.

That, in essence, is the story in the Bible. But in this case the struggle between good and evil is not fiction. It is reality, and has cosmic consequences. The Bible not only records historical events but also predicts them. The Bible has even shaped history.

Today, the Bible remains a bestseller and the most quoted and translated book ever written. This is in spite of the fact that, throughout history, it has been banned and burned by its critics. (I have added a link to a poem about the durability of the Bible entitled, The Bible: There It Stands at the end of this blog.)

So why has it lasted through the millennia? How can we explain its durability?

Consider its claim to be the eternal Word of God: “Forever, O Lord, your word is firmly fixed in the heavens” (Psalm 119:89, esv).

The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever” (Isaiah 40:8,  esv).

Jesus also affirmed Scripture. Remember His words in the Sermon on the Mount? “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished” (Matthew 5:17–18, esv).

The Bible claims to be more than ink on paper: “For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account” (Hebrews 4:12–13, esv).

Majestic claims for sure, but does the Bible live up to them? Yes. A resounding yes!

I believe there is another reason the Bible remains a bestseller. It is great literature. Consisting of 66 books written by several authors over millennia, the Bible contains hundreds of stories with thousands of characters. Yet it is one great story—the story of the epic struggle between good and evil. There is one major protagonist and one antagonist in the story. Each has their loyal followers, either defending the kingdom or revolting against the King. Each story records part of this struggle between good and evil.

A few years ago, Mary gave me a jigsaw puzzle for Christmas. She thought it might help me occupy my spare time in my recent retirement.

Believe me, it did.

The entire puzzle, called “I am Buck,” consists of the head and cape of a deer. Unlike a typical jigsaw puzzle, there are no border pieces. The ears and the tips on the antlers stand by themselves, and there are only four shapes of pieces. Each piece could fit almost anywhere. My sanctification was tested severely. Only my stubborn nature and ego kept me on task. I swore that I would never again attempt to such a puzzle. In case you wonder, I assure you that “My name is Buck” was never stored in the closet with other puzzles. Buck was evicted from the house.

Perhaps somewhere along the line you took up the challenge to read your Bible all the way through, “cover-to-cover.” As with every other book you have read, you began on page one. But this wasn’t like just any other book. As you began in Genesis and started reading the books in order, you encountered—maybe thousands—of characters. And you may have begun to wonder, “Is there a bigger story here? A big picture?”

With a jigsaw puzzle you have the benefit of seeing the completed puzzle on the box lid. But the Bible doesn’t come with a picture like that. So how do you know how the pieces come together?

Last year I set out to write a book to help people discover the bigger story in the Bible. That’s what I would like to share over the next few weeks here on the Front Porch Swing. So let’s open the box and place each piece face up to we can discover where they fit into the picture. The vast panorama. The Big Story.

First, let’s put the corner pieces in place, and begin to assemble the border.

Corner Piece One: Creation (Genesis 1-2)

The story begins with creation, or to say it another way, the Creator. “In the beginning God….” He is the protagonist, the good King ruling over the entire universe. But His focus throughout the story is on one small planet tucked away in one rather ordinary galaxy. The emphasis in the first two chapters of Genesis is not on the how or when of creation. The focus is on the Who. The Creator of everything. The storyline begins simply, “in the beginning” or before time, in eternity. God speaks and the universe comes into existence. The earth becomes habitable for plants and animals and most of all, humans bearing the image of their Creator—making them unique from all other living things. The story is about them, and their relationship with God.

Soon we are invited into an earthly paradise. Everything is perfect. Unity marks every relationship between man and animal and between man and his Creator.

Each day was filled with anticipation. Adam’s vocabulary grows with each new discovery—another animal or plant or, best of all, a woman, a helpmate! The most anticipated event every day was the visit with the great King, their Creator.

Corner Piece Two: The Fall and Judgment (Genesis 3)

Enter the antagonist, the serpent, who deceives Eve to join the rebellion against the great King. New words are added to the dictionary that day. Words like guilt, shame, fear, estrangement and death. For the first time in their lives, Adam and Eve fear the daily arrival of the King. They hide. They cower. Soon they begin to point fingers in a blame game that continues to alienate people today.

Paradise is lost. Adam and Eve are evicted from the garden. A high angel with blazing sword blocks their return. Adam will now struggle to put food on the table. Eve will experience pain. She will no longer trust her lover to lead, nor will he naturally place her first. Each will seek their own will.

Corner Piece Three: The Promise (Genesis 3:15)

The evil serpent, leader of the rebellion, is put on notice that he will ultimately be defeated. Genesis 3:15 contains the first promise in all the Bible: a baby boy will become the greatest king ever and will put down the rebellion and destroy the devil once for all. This promise becomes the thread that will bind all the stories into one.

Oh, yes, another word was added to human vocabulary that fateful day: hope. Not the kind of hope like we “hope it doesn’t rain on our picnic,” or, we “hope our team wins the game.”

This hope speaks of a confidence that anticipates something supremely good, just over the horizon, even when it doesn’t seem possible. Even when everything is chaotic and the bad guys are winning. Hope appears 65 times in the older testament and 70 in the new. Hope is what motivated the heroes listed in Hebrews 11.

But hope in what? In whom?

Corner Piece Four, Paradise Restored: (The book of The Revelation of Jesus Christ)

Everything that was polluted by the fall back in Genesis 3—including the perfect garden paradise—will be restored to perfection. God will once again walk among His people. Relationships will no longer be hindered with feelings of guilt or shame. No more death or disease. All things are made new, even our earth!

Meanwhile, the struggle between good and evil continues to rage millennia after millennia. That is the story that binds each Bible story into the greatest story of all.

Hope in the promised “seed of the woman” (Jesus Christ), is the thread that stitches the Bible stories into the Holy Bible—the unique book, the book of all books and the best “best seller.”

Remember the old hymn, “Standing on The Promises”?  If I ever finish writing the book about the Bible, I would consider the title: Standing on The Promise (singular), with the subtitle, Finding Hope in the In-Between Time.

I believe that is the message that unites 66 books into one.

Next week let’s try putting a few more pieces into the puzzle as we trace the promised seed through the story.

Here is a link to the poem, “The Bible: There It Stands” by A. Z Conrad. http://victoryfortoday.com/688251

Reading the Bible through New Eyes

“Read your Bible, pray every day and you’ll grow, grow, grow   …”

The lyrics and melody of this children’s song still slide off my tongue after 50 years. The song was part of a Vacation Bible School. The kids loved to act out the motions with the song. Starting almost in a kneeling position they would begin to rise up as they sang “grow, grow” until they were standing as tall as they could with arms raised high. The next verse was the flip side or warning, “Neglect your Bible, forget to pray and you’ll shrink, shrink, shrink.”

Wise counsel?

Perhaps, but I doubt  that many of the children actually benefited except from the physical exercise of standing and squatting over and over again as they enthusiastically sang. What about the children who weren’t even old enough to read?

 Looking back I realize we didn’t teach the children that could already read how to read their Bible. We simply warned them, “Don’t forget to read your Bible.” Regretfully, that may also be the experience of many adult converts. Having chosen to receive and to follow Jesus, have they also been discipled? (We used to call that “followed up.”) Have they been trained and equipped to grow deeply in their faith?

It seems obvious that we should encourage new believers to read their Bibles daily if they wish to mature spiritually. I have always encouraged this discipline, but I wonder if what I intended to be received as encouragement to read their Bibles may have created a guilt trip. Have I just added one more thing on the “to do” list? “Read your Bible every day or else your faith will atrophy”? Have I set them up for failure and discouragement if I haven’t also offered basic training on how to read the Bible with understanding?

Imagine somebody that has not grown up in a church or a Christian family being handed a leather-bound book that seems so strange at first glance. It actually contains 66 books written by a variety of authors over several millennia. If it is a King James Version even the English sounds foreign. Desiring to grow in their faith, they tackle Genesis and enjoy most of the stories, even though they describe behaviors that seem strange to our modern worldview like slaughtering animals and splitting the carcasses as part of entering into a solemn contract.

 Exodus continues the narrative so they continue to plow forward on their maiden voyage through the Bible. Then they bump into Leviticus. Their mind begins to drift as they read about all the bloody sacrifices and all the rules about diet and sex etc.

If they make it through Leviticus they discover lots of detailed information about constructing a very large tent in Numbers.

I do not suggest that these biblical accounts are irrelevant, but they do make the Bible unique. Perhaps we have heard mature believers share how precious the Psalms are to them, so we dive into the Psalms and wonder why the poetry doesn’t rhyme. We identify with a particular psalm that cries out for God’s help in a tight spot but discover the next psalm asks God to break the teeth of the enemy.

I do not write to disparage the Bible. I love it. I accept it as God’s Word – as holy. It is the holy (unique, one of a kind) book (book is the Greek word biblios or book). The longer I have studied and meditated upon this book the more I have come to love and respect the Bible. So much so, that I do not place another book on top of it. It’s always on the top of the pile as a visible reminder that I believe it truly is what it claims to be: God’s Word.

Let’s face it; there are things that tend to make understanding the Bible a challenge. Without some basic orientation it can be a daunting task for modern minds saturated by the electronic media where scenes change every few seconds. Conversations have been compressed into a tweet or a twitter or sound a byte. Fact is that fewer people actually read anything today. Newspapers are becoming obsolete. (May that never happen with books.)

So, if it has ever been inadequate to simply pontificate to a new follower of Jesus, “Read your Bible and pray every day,” it is truer today.

The lack of basic instructions to help readers understand the Bible may be one of the primary weaknesses in contemporary Christianity.

I speak from experience. Sunday School teachers, youth workers and pastoral sermons consistently and fervently challenged me to read my Bible daily. But, nobody ever instructed me on how to read the Bible with understanding. When I was given a KJV Schofield Reference Bible I felt that I had arrived. I set out my journey through the Bible, but there was nobody to guide and encourage me as I tackled the ominous task of reading the Bible with understanding. Too often reading my Bible was a duty not a delight.

Years later, as a student at The Moody Bible Institute I received tools to assist me. How I delighted in opening my very own Greek New Testament for the first time. Theology classes and Church history widened my horizon. Pursuing a Masters Degree in the Old Testament at Western Seminary expanded my appreciation for the Hebrew Scriptures. I discovered the beauty of Hebrew poetry and delighted in the wisdom literature. Both Western Seminary and Moody provided valuable tools, but even after survey courses of both the older and newer testaments, I hadn’t fully appreciated the Bible as the greatest story ever written. It remained more like a book with hundreds of stories that became the source of hundreds of sermons.

Consider this: what makes a great story? Why do some stories resonate with us? Why are some stories passed from generation to generation?

A great story has a plot with a protagonist (the good guy in the white hat) and an antagonist (the evil vermin). There is a struggle between them. Sometimes it seems that the evil antagonist is winning and hope is lost. Eventually we know that the hero will win. Meanwhile, we are drawn into the struggle and identify with our hero. That, in essence, is the big story in the Bible. In this case the struggle between good and evil has cosmic proportions. What’s more, this story is not fiction or a fairy tale where everyone lives happily ever after.

Only in later years have I come to more fully appreciate the fact there is one, big story – God’s story- that binds the 66 books together. Almost every narrative in the older and newer testaments is part of one grand story. From the Genesis creation account and edenic -like paradise filled with intimate relationships to the introduction of rebellion and sin and the resulting curse all the way through to the last chapters of Revelation, there is one big story. Everything that has been tainted by the decision to disobey God will be restored. God will once again live among His people and there will be no more war or death.

Today, 50 years after that VBS song was sung back in Ohio, I regret that I never took the time to help the children and their teachers discover how to read the Bible. As their pastor I never provided the tools or walked with them through the early days of learning to follow Jesus. To be honest, I never taught these basic skills because nobody guided me when I first chose to follow Jesus. They simply said, “Read your Bible every day.”

In retrospect, I wonder how many read their Bibles every day. How many struggle with guilt after failed attempts? How many read without understanding how all these stories fit together into the one story – the greatest story ever told?

I wonder how many, out of frustration, simply buy a commentary or decide to let their pastor or a television preacher read and study the Bible for them. Commentaries and sermons aren’t bad, but do they replace the satisfaction of discovering truth that becomes soul food or priceless pearls to enjoy simply for their beauty?

If this blog post has described your experience in reading the Bible, I encourage you to share by responding to this blog.  

Perhaps, here on the Front Porch Swing, we can share tools with each other and discover how to read the Bible through new eyes.

Am I a Believer?

After 50-plus years of preaching, I can recall only two sermons that received a very strong negative response.

I’m not saying, of course, that all of my sermons were appreciated and affirmed by everyone in the congregation. But these two received actual pushback—including signed letters expressing strong disagreement.

One sermon was on biblical stewardship. These sorts of messages, especially about tithing, often make a few people uncomfortable. But in this instance it was about taking care of God’s creation—including our forests. As it turned out, it ran into resistance with a logger and a retired forest ranger.

It was the other offending sermon, however, that motivates me to write this blog post.

The sermon title, “Practical Atheists,” was probably enough to create some discomfort. After all, either I am a believer in God or I am an atheist. Correct?

Maybe not.

Can faith be merely a façade? Can a person have “virtual” faith? Like having a meeting on Zoom without actually meeting together. Or like enjoying virtual church services while perched on the sofa in our home.

I think not. At least that is what James thought.

 But someone will say, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works. You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder! (James 2:18–19, esv)

Did you catch the apostle’s pointed warning? To simply say that I believe something—without any corresponding evidence in my actions—is to imitate Satan and his kin. True faith, by its very essence, requires application. Otherwise, it is simply empty words—virtual faith. I can profess that I believe in God, but if my actions don’t support my claim, I am like an atheist in my practice. That’s practical atheism.

If James preached in our church (or yours) what he had written in his letter, I wonder if his sermon might receive pushback. My sermon certainly did. The offended parties recoiled at even the thought of being called a practical atheist. After all, they were lifetime believers and proud of it.

Years ago there was a popular video series that many churches used in their small group ministries. The message in the video lectures was tied together by this one question: “Do I really believe what I say I believe?” In other words, do my actions back up my words or my claim to believe something is true. Or, to put it another way, “Am I a believer?”

I love the musical My Fair Lady and have used some excerpts in marriage retreats. In one scene Eliza Doolittle responds to Freddie, a potential suitor: “Words, words, words… don’t tell me, show me!” That’s what James was saying in his letter.

Jesus also said the same thing in a story about two men in Matthew 7. Each man built himself a house. Nothing in the story distinguishes one house from the other, as far as square footage or architecture. The only distinction between the houses was their foundation. One was constructed on the sand; the other on bedrock.

When a violent storm swept over the horizon, however, the difference between the two dwellings became all too evident. One collapsed into a worthless heap. The other remained as strong as ever.

Most of us are familiar with the parable, but do we remember the point of the story? Jesus never told a story to entertain his listeners. In this story He drove home the point that both men had heard the word of God. One gave mental assent. The other heard the word and applied it to his life, because he truly believed what he had heard.  His actions proved it.

Here’s Jesus’ short but sharply pointed story:

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’

“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.” (Matthew 7:21–27, esv)

I believe the most important words above are in the first paragraph. Please read it again. Jesus is talking about a matter of life or death—heaven or hell. It’s not what I claim to believe, but what I do with that claim that defines real faith.

You and I are in that story. We are either a wise builder—a true believer—or a fool with only virtual faith. Faith that is worthless. When I truly believe something or in someone, it will change my worldview and my daily actions.

So I want to you to ask yourself, “Do I truly believe what I say I believe? Do I believe that God’s Word is truth—truth to apply even if it may be uncomfortable or unpopular?”

To help me answer those questions, I have created a short checklist of practical examples from my life.

If I say that I believe Jesus will physically return to earth, and that it could happen at any moment, do my priorities support that claim?

  • Do I pray for the unreached who have never heard the good news of salvation in Christ? Does my bank account reveal that I am investing in the effort to spread the Word? Am I concerned for my neighbors? Sadly, some days my actions and attitude undermine my words.
  • If I believe Jesus’ command to not store up wealth in this world but to invest in things eternal, do my choices on how I spend discretionary money reflect my claim? Most of us have discretionary money that God has entrusted us to invest in Kingdom Work. It has been noted that only two things on earth have eternal value: The Word of God and human souls. As for me, I ask myself, “When is enough, enough?”  Our recent move into a smaller home has revealed how many things that we had accumulated were not essential. They weren’t necessarily bad things, but in light of eternity and our present world situation they weren’t wise investments.
  • If I say that I believe God cares about the poor, the homeless and the immigrant among us (and He clearly makes that point over and over in Scripture), do my actions support my claim to have faith? When I see pictures of children with extended bellies and sunken eyes and emaciated bodies, do I quickly flip the page or turn away from the TV screen? Or do I invest in a trusted ministry to provide nourishment or clean water? At the risk of being too blunt, I contemplate how readers responded to a previous blog post sharing an opportunity to provide safe drinking water for an entire community in western Uganda through the ministry of a local Baptist Church and a faith-based non-profit. How many readers invested in the water project or a similar ministry? How many simply checked “like” on the Facebook page?

The checklist continues. I ask myself if I consistently pray for all our national and local political leaders. Or do I pray for God to bless and use the politicians of my preferred party? Here, I confess, I am too often a practical atheist.

Years ago, after preaching from this text in Matthew about the wise and foolish builder, a man sought me out after the service. He was concerned—even convicted—admitting that he was struggling with the assurance of his salvation. This was significant, because he held an office in the church and was on staff at a local Christian college. Everything he claimed to be and did as a career was on the table.

His transparency surprised—even shocked—me. But most of all, his confession about his doubts impressed me. He had heeded Jesus’ warning: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.”

Like Jesus’ story about two homebuilders, there were two distinct responses to my “Practical Atheists” sermon. One man was uncomfortable with my words and vented. The other was convicted by God’s Word and sought counsel.

He’s a believer!