Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way. The Lord be with all of you. – 2 Thessalonians 3:16

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 31, 2017): 2 Thessalonians 3

“Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, Whispering 'it will be happier'...” The words belong to one of Britain’s favorite poets, Alfred, Lord Tennyson. And they reflect a truth that seems to be passed down through the ages. As we turn the calendar page from one year to the next, our hope is always that next year will be a happier one. In my short memory, it has seemed always to be the hope of many of us as we sit on this night waiting to say goodbye to one year and hello to the next. I am not sure what it is that we are expecting. Why is it that every year past always seems so terrible, and yet we hold out hope that the next will still be better? I am not sure that there is an answer to that question.

2017 prepares to draw its last breath. 2018 awaits us in the wings. Maybe 2018 will be the year that we experience world peace, the year when politicians begin to make sense, and the year when health and wealth fall on us all. Admittedly, I am not holding my breath on any of these eventual outcomes. I am not convinced that the turning of a calendar page makes all that much difference.

The truth is that 2017 gave us both hope and despair, and 2018 will most likely be filled with both as well. Maybe the reason that every old year always seems so bad is that it is just easier to remember the despair more than we recognize the hope. And then the years seem to bleed into each other as well.

So let me leave you with these words from Paul as we begin to close the door on 2017. I am trusting that the God of peace himself will give you peace in 2018, regardless of what it might be that the year in front of us holds. May he keep you throughout the days and the nights of the New Year. May you rejoice in him during the happy times of the year and lean on him through the cold nights and lonely mornings. May he hold you close and never let you go. The Lord be with all of you – and through the miracle of his grace may 2018 be the best year yet, even if it ends up being the worst.

Happy New Year!

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Acts 19

He will punish those who do not know God and do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus. – 2 Thessalonians 1:8

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 30, 2017): 2 Thessalonians 1 & 2

I grew up in an era of hellfire and brimstone preaching. I remember several examples of pastors deciding that the best way to convince people that they needed to accept the Gospel of Christ was by reminding them that hell awaits those who do not arrive at that decision. As a youth pastor, I took my teens to what was, at the time, a Halloween phenomenon called “Hell House” that attempted to do the same thing through a dramatic message in a Christian Haunted House environment. Since then I think we probably need to keep our Halloween houses haunted without trying to preach a Christian message through them.

While I do not doubt the biblical message of hell and punishment, the reality is that hellfire and brimstone messages have not proven to be a lasting way of making a positive change. People may commit to Christ in the moment, but that commitment often wavers. Another aspect of the problem is that hellfire and brimstone sermons often violate Jesus’s law of love. It is hard to preach a message that says that God loves you while insisting that he can’t wait to punish you. Such preaching also provides ample fodder for those who oppose the Gospel message.

The gospel of our Lord Jesus that Paul speaks of is one of love. Love was the story that Jesus endeavored to tell. What is disturbing to me is that often our behavior, especially when we try to tell a story filled with punishment, is closer to that of the Pharisees who Jesus fought against than it is to the teacher that we proclaim to follow. There is no doubt that Jesus spoke of punishment, but that discipline was often directed at the people who refused to love – and those who lorded their religion over others.

When we love unconditionally, we fulfill the Gospel of Christ. Of course, on our power, that kind of love is often beyond our grasp. But when we endeavor to know God, he fills in what it is that we lack. Every once in a while we need to be reminded of this idea of punishment, but it cannot be our central message. I believe that heaven and hell exist, yet I am not sure what kind of form either will take. I am content to accept Jesus words that he has gone to prepare a place for me. But until I arrive at that place, it is enough for me to simply trust him and to learn to love this world the way that he loved it; seeking not to highlight the negative, but rather to strengthen the positive.

If we commit to learning the ways of love, punishment will not be something about which we need to worry. The world in which we live will be enriched by our love, and the power of God will change this planet, making it an even better place to live until the time when Jesus returns to take us to the place that he is preparing for us.

And it is in this Gospel that I place my faith.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: 2 Thessalonians 3

May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. – 1 Thessalonians 5:23

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 29, 2017): 1 Thessalonians 5

            I heard the bells on Christmas day

            Their old familiar carols play,
            And wild and sweet the words repeat
            Of peace of earth, good will to men.

Peace, that elusive moment in which we are entirely without conflict. Poets have written about it, and dreamers have dreamed of it. Legislators have written laws that strive to enforce it. And, yet, rarely has this world experienced peace. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s words still grace this time of year. And yet, seldom do we recognize the pain that exists behind the poet’s words. The poem, entitled initially “Christmas Bells” and first published in 1865, was actually written on Christmas Day 1863, in the middle of the American Civil War. Longfellow, a pacifist, did not understand how the States could take up arms against each other. The poet was recovering from a devastating personal blow that had occurred two years earlier when his wife had died in a fire. And then earlier in 1863, his oldest son, Charles, had left home without his father’s permission to go and fight in the war with the Union army. He was severely injured in November, and although Charles would recover from his wounds, something was lost in the process. As far as Longfellow was concerned, the war was stealing too much from the people of the United States.

And as Longfellow pondered what had been lost, “Christmas Bells” began to form. The first three stanzas of the original poem talk about this peace that Longfellow knew that he was supposed to be feeling, and yet it seemed so far away.

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom

             Had rolled along
             The unbroken song

             Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

             Till ringing, singing on its way,
             The world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime

A chant sublime

             Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

I can imagine Longfellow sitting writing the words while his soul was torn to shreds by the lack of peace. I can hear the questions in his mind about whether peace was even possible for us who seem to be doomed to both live and die by the sword. It is to these feelings of hurt that existed deep down in the core of who he was that Longfellow dedicated two stanza’s that we no longer sing in our Christmas Carol.

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,

And with the sound

The carols drowned

             Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,

And made forlorn

The households born

             Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

             And in despair I bowed my head;
             "There is no peace on earth," I said;

"For hate is strong,

And mocks the song

             Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

The conclusion that we often come to is that peace is impossible. Even at this sacred time of the year, we do not know real peace. And the problem is inside of us. As Paul concludes his first letter to the Thessalonians, he writes these words - May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. Too often we gloss over the words, after all, peace, even at Christmas, seems impossible, and we just aren’t sure what that word “sanctify” means. It is too easy to write the words off as Paul’s way of saying goodbye.

But the words are so much more. They are a prayer that God, the God of peace, the peace that we all dream of, would change us and shape us according to his will – and in the process make peace possible. I need to be changed, to be formed so that peace is a reality in my life. I need to be molded so that I can chase after the purpose of God’s heart – peace.

I believe peace is possible, but only as selfishness disappears and as we are shaped by God’s love and enabled to chase after God’s purpose for us. I don’t understand Holy Wars. We serve a God of peace. I know, peace sounds impossible, but we also serve a God who can accomplish the impossible.

Longfellow closes his poem with these words of hope -

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;

The Wrong shall fail,

The Right prevail,

             With peace on earth, good-will to men."

Or as a poet of my generation wrote –

            You may say I'm a dreamer,

            but I'm not the only one.

            And I hope someday you'll join us

            And the world will live as one. (John Lennon)

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: 2 Thessalonians 1 & 2

Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. – 1 Thessalonians 4:13

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 28, 2017): 1 Thessalonians 3 & 4

Gandalf in J. R. R Tolkien’s “Return of the King” says “I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.” The truth is that tears are a natural part of life. As we move through the Christmas Season, this corruption that all tears are evil is what strikes me about one of our favorite Christmas Carols. “Away in a Manger” contains one line that bothers me every time we sing the song. “The little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes.” The line seems to imply that a baby’s cries are not a good thing. Now, as a father, I understand that sometimes the crying gets out of hand, but I also understand that a babies cries are the only way that a healthy child has of communicating. When a baby is cold, hungry, in need of comfort, or needs a diaper change, the only way it can get that message across is through the tears that it makes. Islam contains a belief that the Baby Jesus came out of Mary’s womb speaking in sentences and explaining the mystery of life. But as Christians, that is not what we believe. Jesus cried. He cried in the manger, and he cried later in life, and tears poured out of him at several other spots along the way. He was like us.

It is easy to read words like these that Paul writes to the Church in Thessalonica, and somehow misunderstand them, or twist them into a belief that, as Christians, we don’t weep. I have attended funerals where some well-meaning person expresses that idea that because of our faith and our hope, that there is no need for tears. But that teaching is misguided.

Yes, we have a hope. We agree with Paul that there is a difference between us and those who live believing that this is all that we get. But we also cry at funerals. The hope of what God has promised us in the future does not mean that we will not miss the person that has died. Our tears reflect a void that is left in our lives here and not a lack of faith in what God has promised us in the future. We do not say “do not weep” because we know that “not all tears are an evil.”

And if you need convincing of that fact, we need to look no further than the life of Jesus. John tells the story of the death, and resurrection, of Lazarus. And in the story, Jesus returns to Bethany and is met by Lazarus’s sister, Martha, and Mary. As Jesus enters Bethany, the sisters are weeping. They understand that they have a hope, that there will be a resurrection in the Day of the Lord, but that does not ease the pain of the death of their brother and void that Lazarus’s absence has created in the present moment. We might think that this might be a good time for Jesus to chastise the sisters for their lack of faith, or a teaching moment for Jesus about what death means for a Christ follower. But Jesus does neither of these things. Instead, even though Jesus knew that in a few moments he was going to call Lazarus out of the grave, he chose to cry with the sisters. He feels the pain of Lazarus’s absence, and as that pain is made real in him, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35).

There is a difference, and we have a hope, but not all tears are evil. We are the ones who are assured of a future that is beyond this life that we live. But sometimes, even though we have a sure hope, we feel the absence of the one who has died – and at that moment, tears are the only right response.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: 1 Thessalonians 5

We had previously suffered and been treated outrageously in Philippi, as you know, but with the help of our God we dared to tell you his gospel in the face of strong opposition. – 1 Thessalonians 2:2

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 27, 2017): 1 Thessalonians 1 & 2

“Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds.” I am not sure if Albert Einstein had any particular event in mind as he spoke these words, but the presence of opposition is not unknown in our lives. In every story, the hero must have someone who opposes him. Sherlock Holmes must have his Professor James Moriarty. MacGyver has his Murdoc. Every comic book Superhero has an equally compelling comic book supervillain.

This everpresent story of opposition in our world makes it strange that we sometimes seem to present the Christmas story as if there was no opposition. Oh, there was no room at the inn. Circumstances, which included a census called at just the wrong time, seemed to conspire against the holy couple, Mary and Joseph. But for most of us, the story of Christmas is a feel-good story about shepherds and angels and foreign kings with some well-behaved animals thrown in to complete the ambiance. Sometimes, in a rush to create a positive Christmas tableau, we forget the word of Simeon, spoken to Mary and Joseph when their baby, who was born in a manger, was only eight days old. “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too” (Luke 2:34-35). There will be opposition to this child’s message all through his life. And that opposition began with King Herod, likely before Jesus had even learned to speak.

Paul reminds his Thessalonian readers that even he has met with opposition, and the most recent incident appears to have taken place in Philippi. But his message is not that the Thessalonians should somehow feel sorry for him. Paul’s message is not “look how much I am sacrificing for the Gospel of Christ.” The Apostle’s message is that opposition is natural. Paul would have understood Einstein's words experientially - “Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds.” This was his reality and is our reality. If the Thessalonians were genuinely going to follow Christ, they would be opposed.

And so are we. Every fiber of our culture seems to stress that the believer in God is out of touch. Forces in our society continually try to conform us to its preconceived image. They tell us that love does not work, and that hate is the weapon that we need to wield as we confront Muslim extremists and rogue international powers. It seems that the only way that we can escape the opposition is if we are willing to give up the message of Christ, or at least, water it down. Paul’s encouragement to the Thessalonians, and then extended to us, is to understand that opposition is natural. If Jesus was opposed, why would we escape that opposition? But the resistance does not change who we are in Christ – we are the ones who carry his message of love to the world.  

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: 1 Thessalonians 3 & 4

He had been instructed in the way of the Lord, and he spoke with great fervor and taught about Jesus accurately, though he knew only the baptism of John. – Acts 18:25

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 26, 2017): Acts 18

Russian Science Fiction writer Vera Nazarian writes:

“Have you ever seen the dawn? Not a dawn groggy with lack of sleep or hectic with mindless obligations and you about to rush off on an early adventure or business, but full of deep silence and absolute clarity of perception? A dawning which you truly observe, degree by degree. It is the most amazing moment of birth. And more than anything it can spur you to action. Have a burning day.”

Dawn is a time of change and adjustment. It exists wherever there is progress and change. Paul taught at a time that we recognize as the dawn of the Christian Church – a period of significant religious and political change. The dawn of Christianity began with the event that we celebrate as Christmas but continued for the next century as we began to understand what the meaning of this birth in Bethlehem meant for the whole world. It should not be surprising that the story that is told in the Christian Testament are stories of the dawn.

One of these stories is about a man named Apollos. There is no doubt that Apollos was a formidable person. From the description we have of Apollos, we know that he was a man of influential speech. It was hard to hear Apollos speak and not listen to what he had to say. He was knowledgeable in the scripture which meant that he was aware of many of the Hebrew writings in existence in his day, he was an enthusiastic and charismatic teacher, and he had received teaching about Jesus and taught accurately about his life and teaching.

But this was the dawn of an age; it was a beginning. Luke indicates that Apollos did have a lack. He had only received the Baptism of John. We cannot underestimate the influence that John had in the ancient world. Apollos had heard John and was a follower of John, and so he echoed the teaching of John about the Messiah. He taught that the Messiah had come and that his listeners needed to repent and respond to the message of Jesus that was coming out of Paul and the apostles, but at this moment he did not have an understanding of the full person and work of Jesus Christ. But this lack was partially the result of the reality that Apollos stood at the dawn, at the beginning of the church.

Apollos watched the dawn of the Christian Church. Through the messages John the Baptist, Paul, and the Apostles he was spurred into action. He taught about Jesus as he learned to experience him – and in the end, Apollos made himself ready to greet the burning day.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: 1 Thessalonians 1 & 2

For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. So you are ignorant of the very thing you worship—and this is what I am going to proclaim to you. – Acts 17:23

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 25, 2017): Acts 17

Cronos was the head of the Titans and the chief of the gods. He had defeated his own father, Uranus, and had taken dad’s place among the gods. But legend had said that his son would do the same to him. And so Cronos decided that he would defeat the hands of fate and destroy every child that proceeded from the womb of his consort, Rhea, by eating them. First was Hestia. She was followed by her sister Demeter. The third daughter to be consumed by Cronos was Hera. And then the first male child, Hades, was also devoured by Cronos. The second male child to be born and swallowed by Dad was Poseidon. And later, finally, Zeus was born out of this relationship between Zeus and Rhea. But when Rhea gave birth to Zeus, she did not give the baby to Cronos, but instead wrapped a rock in swaddling clothes and gave Cronos the stone which he consumed. As for Zeus, the baby was sent into hiding – specifically; he was sent into a cave on Mount Ida. And there he stayed until the time was right for Zeus to confront his father, and save the lives of his siblings. He forced Cronos to disgorge, first the rock and then his siblings in the reverse order of the way that they were swallowed. First Poseidon, and then Hades, followed by his three sisters; Hera, Demeter, and Hestia. These formed the first of the gods that the Greeks worshipped, and to whom they built their altars.

As Paul walks in Athens, he sees all of the altars, and he probably is reminded of their origin stories. The gods of the Greeks were jealously struggling for supremacy, fighting each other and the ones who went before them. Uranus was the father of the Titans, of whom Cronus was the “Titan of the Harvest.” Cronos deposed his father by first castrating him with a sickle (a symbol of the harvest). Then he ate his children so that they would not have the chance to do to him what he did to his father. Rhea stopped that plan by hiding Zeus and giving him a rock to swallow instead of a baby. And when the time was right, Zeus came back and defeated Cronos and freed his siblings.

Paul was amazed at what he saw, but he knew the story of the unknown God. And it was a very different story. Instead of a jealous battle, this God had compassion on the earth and sent his son to save those who wandered in darkness. There is no jealousy, just a loving Father who is proud of his son. God speaks of his love at the Baptism of his son; “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17). It is a very different story from the story of Cronos and Zeus. Oh, the Greeks would have been very familiar with Yahweh of the Jews, but not with Jesus, the son.

The story of Jesus shares some similarity to that of Zeus, although the overarching story is very different. Jesus, like Zeus, lived his early life in obscurity. He was born in a cave and hidden in the obscurity of a poor carpenter’s family. (Zeus was born in a palace and hidden in the obscurity of a cave.) Both were anonymous until the moment that their mission was to be fulfilled. But it is at this moment that their stories begin to differ. For Zeus, that moment was the confrontation of his father; for Jesus, it was a ministry that taught of the Father’s love for the people and ended in the Son sacrificing his own life for the sins of the people who both he and his father loved. And the father, in love, raised his son back to life from the grave.

This is the story of the unknown God. And the tale begins today. Welcome to the story of Christmas, the Beginning movement of God’s planned salvation of the world. May the Spirit of the unknown God inhabit your celebrations on this day. And may you realize how much you are loved by the unknown God, and his loving father. You are loved so much that this God sent his son to be born in a manger, live in obscurity, and die for your sins. He did it without fanfare, and so he is indeed unknown. Yet, we reap the benefits of our relationship with this unknown God.

And because of this story, I can wish you a very Merry Christmas!

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Luke 18

The crowd joined in the attack against Paul and Silas, and the magistrates ordered them to be stripped and beaten with rods. – Acts 16:28

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 24, 2017): Acts 16

To my Friends;

One of the most popular Christmas Carols is “Away in a Manger.” It is a simple song, often sung by children, and yet it still has the ability to touch the hearts of those much older. It comes with two tunes. And at one point it was believed to have been written by Martin Luther, in fact, the earliest copies of the song that we have from the late 19^th century includes the title “Luther’s Cradle Song,” but now it is believed to be entirely American in origin. It seems likely that the song was written in conjunction with 400^th anniversary of Luther’s birth in 1883.

For me, and I don’t mean this to take away from the song, but the one line “no crying he makes” has always been troubling. If Jesus was born under the normal conditions that are shared with the rest of humanity, then crying is an essential form of communication. For babies, it is the most prominent form of communication, telling us older ones when they are cold, or hungry, or even just lonely and in need of a cuddle. But even as we grow older, tears remain a necessary element of our emotional make-up and continue to be an essential part of our communication.

I am not sure that anyone would be blamed if tears fell from their eyes as they watched Paul and Silas endure this beating for their faith. Or that anyone would blame Paul and Silas for the tears that spilled from their eyes as they experienced the intense pain of the attack. Tears never make us less. They communicate a reality that words are often unable to express.

I wish I could say that we have left this kind of abuse in the past, but the reality is that we haven’t. As we prepare to welcome the birth of Jesus, there are many Christians in various parts of the world, that are being beaten and imprisoned for the crime of believing in, and following, this Child of the Manger. OpenDoors reports that every month 322 people are killed for the crime of believing in Jesus, 214 churches, and Christian owned properties are destroyed, and 722 acts of violence are committed against Christians. Every day Christians are imprisoned for their faith. And if Jesus did not cry in the manger, I believe that he is crying now.

Welcome to Christmas Eve. My prayer is that you will have a Merry Christmas and that you will take time to honor the Christ of the Manger. But I also hope that you will also remember the persecuted church, people just like us who have been imprisoned for their belief in the Christ Child. And maybe, even on this happiest of days, shed a tear for those who are suffering this Christmas for no other reason than their commitment to Jesus. We stand together as a globally united church, or we stand without Christ in our midst. We are the lucky ones.

Merry Christmas.

Garry  

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Acts 17

Then some of the believers who belonged to the party of the Pharisees stood up and said, “The Gentiles must be circumcised and required to keep the law of Moses.” – Acts 15:5

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 23, 2017): Acts 15

In hindsight, the presence of the Magi in Bethlehem was signaling something that would take years for us to really understand. And we still struggle with the message. It was also part of the angel’s words to the shepherds. “I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people” (Luke 2:10). The radical idea exists at the tail end of the sentence – “all the people.” Judaism had become entrenched both in its racial and socio-economic traditions. Gentiles, which includes the Magi of Bethlehem, were not welcome participants in religious activity of Israel; unless they were willing to convert to Judaism and submit to the Law of Moses, which included circumcision, something that was considered to be immodest to many Gentile cultures. In the same way, Judaism’s strict series of laws had become so overwhelming that unless you were a person of wealth, it was impossible to keep all of the Law. This concept is presented in the song “If I Were a Rich Man” from “Fiddler on the Roof.”

If I were rich, I'd have the time that I lack
To sit in the synagogue and pray.
And maybe have a seat by the Eastern wall.
And I'd discuss the holy books with the learned men, several hours every day.
That would be the sweetest thing of all.

Judaism had become a system of exclusions. The Magi, representing the Gentiles, and the Shepherds, representing the poor, both being invited to witness the birth of the child who was the Messiah threatened to upset all of the exclusions that had been built into Judaism. And we still struggle with the idea of combining inclusion and faith.

After the inclusion present in the early days of Jesus life, and the message of inclusion preached by Jesus during his ministry, the Council at Jerusalem marks a radical new beginning for the Christian Church. It is interesting to note that at least some of the Pharisees who had fought against Jesus during his ministry, had accepted Jesus as Messiah and were now working inside the Christian Church. But the idea of exclusion was still present.

As the Council of Jerusalem begins, the stakes were extremely high. There were two possible outcomes to this battle. One was that the Pharisees would win the war and Christianity would forever exist as a subset within Judaism. This result would mean that all of the exclusions that had been built into Judaism would also remain in force in Christianity. The inclusion that Jesus had lived and taught would be forever lost.

Or, Christianity would be removed from the exclusions of Judaism and be able to practice a radical inclusion that, 2000 years later, we are still trying to figure out how to do. This movement would be led by a former Jewish Pharisee named Paul. In the end, it is Paul who wins the day. And a radically inclusive church that would dare to welcome both shepherds and magi becomes a real possibility, although it is an idea for which we still need to be willing to enter the battle.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Acts 16

On arriving there, they gathered the church together and reported all that God had done through them and how he had opened a door of faith to the Gentiles. – Acts 14:27

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 22, 2017): Acts 14

Christmas. It won’t be long now until we hear reports of where Santa and his sleigh have been spotted across the world. NORAD will track the movements of the Jolly Old Elf as he makes his way to homes all over the planet, rewarding those on his good list, and apparently leaving coal for those on his naughty list. (I have to admit, I was far from a perfect kid growing up, I seemed to tend to rebel against everything, and not once did Santa leave me coal for my stocking; so he must be pretty tolerant. Of course, maybe this is the year.)

Our Christmas traditions today are a far cry from the original events that we are trying celebrate. On that night, it was just the angels singing to some shepherds. The Magi with the gifts didn’t show up until much later; they never did make it to the manger, no matter what the story is that our Christmas Carols might try to tell. The church and altar on that night were found in a stable in Bethlehem, the Town of David. At that moment, there was only one church. For that Christmas Service, the only ones who showed up were Mary and Joseph, some animals, and the aforementioned shepherds. No one else came. I am not even sure that any hymns or carols were sung. They just came and quietly looked at the babe who would save the world.

Decades later, things had drastically changed. Paul, once known as a persecutor of this church that honored the child of the manger, was just finishing what has become known as his First Missionary Journey. Paul and Barnabas had traveled through the area of the North East Mediterranean bringing the news of this Child of the Manger. And they had planted churches. They would plant more. But for now, they called the church at Antioch together to report all that had been accomplished in the name of Jesus.

The original Greek of this passage hints at something that we sometimes miss. The word translated as “reported,” or “rehearsed” in the King James Version, ἀναγγέλλω [anaggellō], is the imperfect form of the verb. What that might indicate is that Paul and Barnabas may have gone around the area repeating the report of their activity to various groups in the area. But the word translated as “church,” ἐκκλησία [ekklēsia], is singular. There may have been many gatherings, but there was only one church.

It is still a truth that we should hold tightly. At that first Christmas, there was only one baby and one stable and one manger that represented the beginning of the Christian faith. In Paul’s Antioch, the gatherings may have multiplied, but there was still only one church. Today, even with our multitude of buildings, gatherings, and denominations, there is remains just one church. The church that grew out of the manger in Bethlehem. And we again come to honor the Babe of the Manger.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Acts 15

They traveled through the whole island until they came to Paphos. There they met a Jewish sorcerer and false prophet named Bar-Jesus … Acts 13:6

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 21, 2017): Acts 13

Maybe one of the most quoted verses from the Bible this time of year arises out of Matthew 1. “She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21). For most Christians, the name of Jesus takes on special meaning and significance, and it is sometimes surprising to learn that Israel 2000 years ago was actually chock-full of Jesus’s. In our culture, Jesus is a rare name while John’s are plentiful, but in Canaan 2000 years ago the situation would have been reversed, John’s were rare while you probably couldn’t throw a stick without hitting someone named Jesus. Some of these Jesus’s had delusions of grandeur, like Jesus Barabbas, who the Jewish mob chanted in favor of his release, while they tried to persuade the Pilate to crucify Jesus of Nazareth. Or they were prophets like Jesus ben Ananias who, starting in 62 C.E., went around declaring to all who would listen that Jerusalem was about to fall. And the city would fall on August 3, 70 C.E. But during the Siege of Jerusalem, Jesus ben Ananias died. The prophet was struck by rock fired from a Roman catapult. According to the historian, Josephus, the last words the prophet uttered were "Woe once more to the city and to the people and to the temple, and woe to me also." There was a Christian in Rome whose name was Jesus but was called Justus, possibly as a way of distancing himself from the Holy name of the Messiah with which his parents had blessed him.

And then there was Bar-Jesus, or literally “the son of Jesus,” on Cyprus. It seems likely that, in order to capitalize on the fame of Jesus of Nazareth, or maybe to just be able to proclaim himself as a Messianic type figure, Bar-Jesus had stopped using his first name. He wanted all who met him to know him as Jesus. Bar-Jesus was a self-proclaimed prophet of the God of Israel, and on Cyprus, he wanted to be in charge of the religious agenda he had thrust upon the island.

But as the passage moves on, we find that Luke doesn’t seem to be able to bear to call this sorcerer Jesus, and instead opts for Elymas, which may have been Bar-Jesus’s first name or, more likely, a nickname. It is evident from the text that Bar Jesus opposed the ministry of Paul and Barnabas and the advancement of the Gospel of Jesus of Nazareth. On Cyprus, there was room for only one Jesus, and that was not Jesus of Nazareth. Paul and Barnabas represented a threat against Bar-Jesus’s agenda on Cypress, and that threat could not be tolerated.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Acts 14

Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up. – James 4:10

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 20, 2017): James 4 & 5

Psychiatrist Carl Jung wrote that “Through pride we are ever deceiving ourselves. But deep down below the surface of the average conscience a still, small voice says to us, something is out of tune.” For some, self-deception is just a coping mechanism for life. We know that we are not deserving of all that we want, but somehow convince ourselves that we are, and that helps us excuse our unacceptable behavior. But then there is Jung’s still, small voice that continues to rain on our parade.

For most, it seems that life is a race to proclaim our own self-importance or our relevance. And often, that includes declaring our personal worth. The problem is that that might work as we encounter each other, although it probably shouldn’t, but by the very nature of our relationship with God it can’t work with him. While we may try to make excuses for our behavior with each other, ignoring the still, small voice inside of us that continually reminds us that we are wrong, there are no excuses that work with God. He is God, holy, just and perfect – and we are not. The more that we try to prove that we are worthy of God’s forgiveness and grace, the farther away that we find ourselves from that which we crave.

The more important that we prove ourselves to be, the less it is that we need God. So James encourages his readers that as they come to God, they need to do so with great humility. In this, James echoes one of the great themes of the Bible. It is only the humble that can know the blessings of God. Our self-protestations don’t get us there, and neither do our demands that God would give us what we want. His blessings only come through humility.

Consider these words:

When people are brought low and you say, ‘Lift them up!’  then he will save the downcast (Job 22:29).

Pride brings a person low, but the lowly in spirit gain honor (Proverbs 29:23).

For this is what the high and exalted One says—he who lives forever, whose name is holy: “I live in a high and holy place, but also with the one who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite (Isaiah 57:15).

For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted – Jesus (Matthew 23:12, Luke 14:11).

William Barclay sums up James thoughts on humility like this.

Only when a man realizes his own ignorance will he ask God's guidance. Only when a man realizes his own poverty in the things that matter will he pray for the riches of God's grace. Only when a man realizes his weakness in necessary things will he come to draw upon God's strength. Only when a man realizes his own sin will he realize his need of a Saviour and of God's forgiveness.

Only in humility can we see God, because only in humility do we recognize that something is out of tune, something that we know that only God can fix.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Acts 13

For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice. - James 3:18

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 19, 2017): James 3

The story of the Magi at that first Christmas continues to intrigue me. I know, strictly speaking, the Magi never made it to the manger, so they are not part of what should be our traditional manger scene. But we keep on sneaking both them and their gifts into our Christmas celebration. Maybe the inclusion of these gift-giving strangers just makes us feel a little better about our consumerism that is on display for all to see at this time of year. So the three Magi (or Kings or Wisemen) keep sneaking into our celebration.

It is incredibly likely that the Magi were Zoroastrian priests. They believed in one God, named Ahura Mazda (Wise Lord), and were well-known for teasing messages out of the stars. This is where the Christmas Star enters the story. While our Christmas carols seem to have everyone and their pet donkey (“The Star” is in theatres now – someone can send me my check for the advertising) following the Star to Bethlehem, this is highly unlikely. It is improbable that the Christmas Star was anything like we imagine it to be. It was a new star whose story needed to be teased out of it by expert astrologers. The problem is that “astrology” is frowned on by the teachings of the Bible. As we read the story of the Magi, these Zoroastrian priests seem to do everything wrong – they practice astrology, worship a god who is not the Yahweh of Israel, and have no idea what is in the sacred writings. And yet, they find their way to Bethlehem and bring honor to the child who was born the King of the Jews.

Contrast these Zoroastrian practitioners with Herod. On the surface, Herod does everything right. He calls the priests of Judaism and, at the very least, has them search the sacred Scriptures for the place where the Messiah would be born. He doesn’t seem to give a second thought to the Christmas Star, maybe because he knew that astrology was forbidden. And yet, even though Herod followed the right procedures, his motivation was dominated by envy and selfish ambition; and he intends to kill this baby who is born “King of the Jews.”

Properly understood, the story of the Magi continues to be a cautionary tale for us. Too often, we more resemble Herod than we do the Magi. And that can be good. Unless, like Herod, our envy, and selfish ambition get in the way. It is the heart of James message. Intentions count. They also have the potential to twist what we do, making even the best practices lead to evil of every kind. The intentions of the Magi redeemed their practices, even though those practices could have been considered evil, or at the very least outside of the godly standard. Herod did everything right, and yet his intentions turned what was godly into evil practices of every kind. Envy and selfish ambition will always have that effect. And that we need to understand, especially in a time of year that is often marked by giving and charity.  

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: James 4 & 5

For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it. – James 2:10

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 18, 2017): James 2

Tamora Pierce in “Melting Stones” remarks that “Every now and then I like to do as I'm told, just to confuse people.” I get that. As a people, we have a checkered relationship with obedience. I know that I don’t like rules, often because I can’t figure out what the rules are supposed to accomplish, or because I don’t trust the ones who created the rules in the first place. So I break them. As a result, I get the reputation of being a rebel, or a purveyor of unconventional ministry, which is essentially the same thing. I have often argued that I have nothing against tradition, I just don’t like tradition that doesn’t make any sense.

But, as a Christian, there comes the point when I recognize that what God has decreed must have a purpose. That doesn’t mean that I don’t push at the edges. I want to obey because I trust God. But I also want it to make sense, to understand the why behind the command. Sometimes the why is obvious, and at other times I need to wrestle with the Scripture so that I come to a place of understanding, and therefore, real obedience.

And then we come crashing into James’s letter. The intent behind this verse is one that I continually hear in the words of the people with whom I am in contact. Is it not true that to break one law is to break them all? And the qualified answer is yes. But then comes the other shoe. The quotation of James 2:10, intended or unintentional, always seems to come with someone’s agenda sticking out of it. Recently, it was Sunday worship that was the agenda behind the quote. Isn’t the Sabbath Saturday? Of course. Then why do we worship on Sunday? And here we have the struggle toward understanding. The command to keep the Sabbath Day holy was the only one that Jesus did not quote during his ministry because it was a commandment that we twisted and misused. As a Christian Church, we have struggled to honor “The Lord’s Day,” or the Day that Jesus rose from the dead as our day of worship; which is Sunday. In this, we are following what we believe is the intent of the law and what became the practice of the early church, especially the Gentile church. So does that mean that because we are disobeying the Sabbath commandment and, according to James, therefore the whole law? I don’t think so. We are obeying it as we understand it to be.

James command is important because he is arguing that, when it comes to God, we cannot selectively obey the commands of God. But that does not mean that we obey without understanding. Obeying without understanding is legalism. So we obey as we understand, knowing that if we stumble, we are covered by the incredible grace of God.

I am sure that we are getting it wrong somewhere, but as long as we are struggling to understand and not listening selectively, I believe that his grace covers us. That does not mean that we no longer fight and strive to obey. Obedience is part of our Christianity. But we obey as we gain understanding as to why this is important, knowing that if we stumble and violate all of the law, that the grace of Jesus covers us – and that he still loves us. What more could we want?

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: James 3

Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death. – James 1:15

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 17, 2017): James 1

The “slippery slope” is an argument in logic theory that argues that small steps in a certain direction can often end with unexpected and largely negative consequences. Sometimes it is referred to as the “camel’s nose inside the tent” philosophy, where the argument is that if you allow that Camel’s nose inside the tent, soon you will have the whole camel in the tent. Slippery slope philosophy is generally recognized as a type of false thinking, or in other words, what we often indicate is a slippery slope is not actually one, but rather a series of unconnected events. But then, sometimes and when we least expect it, we do enter onto a slippery slope. Dean Koontz in “Brother Odd” describes the slippery slope like this. “I don't know if this deception qualified as a half-step down the slippery slope. I had no sensation of sliding. But of course we never notice the descent until we're rocketing along at high velocity.”  Opponents of slippery slope arguments argue that there are always ways to get off of the slope and they use the example of skiing on a very literal slippery slope. But the problem is that, once you are rocketing along at high velocity, getting off the slope is going to cause pain.

James uses a form of the slippery slope argument as he opens his letter. The idea is that desire, gives birth to sin, and sin gives birth to death, so the logical inference is that desire is the grandparent of death. In our culture, we often recognize desire, and stress that desire by itself is okay, desire in and of itself is not sin. I used to have a married friend who was continually remarking about the women around him. He argued that there was nothing wrong with him looking at the menu, he just couldn’t order off of it. It is this kind of thinking, and comment, that we now recognize as a culture is wrong because of where the thinking leads us. And maybe it is not a surprise that his marriage was ended by an affair. Does every marriage that featured a man making a similar argument end the same way? Maybe not; we have the ability to get off of the train. But the recent sexual abuse allegations that are being revealed through the media on an almost daily basis remind us that stopping at desire is often a difficult thing to do.

Maybe we are entering an age when we finally are beginning to recognize what James was writing about almost 2000 years ago. If we want to be successful in life, the first thing that we need to understand is how it is that we control what it is that we desire. In the early moments, desire always seems to be innocent. But when uncontrolled desire grows up, it still leads us someplace that we do not want to go.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: James 2

He had James, the brother of John, put to death with the sword. – Acts 12:2

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 16, 2017): Acts 12

“Some people hate funerals. I find them comforting. They hit the pause button on life and remind us that it has an end. Every eulogy reminds me to deepen my dash, that place on the tombstone between our birth and our death.” Regina  Brett’s words remind us of the transient nature of life, and of the need to live it well, or in Brett’s words, to “deepen the dash.”

Fourteen years have passed since the death of Jesus. The Christian community was still getting stronger, something that worried the Jewish authorities. So King Herod Agrippa, to gain favor with the Jewish public, decided to begin a fresh persecution of the Christian Church. James would be the first apostle to fall. Soon after the death of James, Herod arrested Peter, who subsequently escaped from Herod’s clutches, and then Herod himself fell ill and died. According to the biblical account (Acts 12:19-24), Herod died because the people honored him as a god and Herod did not stop them, giving his praise to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The pace of the persecution seems to slow a bit following the death of James and Herod in 44 C.E., but that pause would pick up again. Over the next twenty-five years, most of the apostles would be martyred, with the exception of John, the brother of James, who, while severely persecuted, appears to have died of natural causes at the dawn of the second century. Their time on this planet may have been artificially shortened, and yet they “deepened their dash.”

We don’t really know the burial places of most of the disciples, but we have traditions and guesses. In the case of James, the place where legend says that he was of martyred is now under the Armenian Apostolic Cathedral of St. James. And to the left of the sanctuary is an altar, and under the altar, marked by a piece of red marble and surrounded by six votive lamps, it is rumored that the dismembered head of James is buried. The rest of his body is traditionally believed to have been transported by the disciples to Spain, where James is thought to have preached the Gospel. The two burial spots for James represents how deep his dash was, representing the place of his death in defense of the Gospel and probably the place furthest away from Jerusalem where he ministered the Gospel of Jesus Christ. And a reminder that even though James was the first of the apostles to die, excluding Judas who committed suicide, his influence continues even to today.

 Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: James 1

As I began to speak, the Holy Spirit came on them as he had come on us at the beginning. – Acts 11:15

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 15, 2017): Acts 11

It is a conversion story. It took place decades ago in a small church that was located in a rural town. Conversion stories are always hard to explain because there is something intangible about them, something that people who do not believe will never really understand. But on this night, a young boy decided to accept the gospel of Jesus Christ as his own. As was the custom of the day, he arose from his seat at a church service and made the long walk toward the front of the church, and the altar that awaited him there. When he arrived, he awkwardly knelt at the prayer rail and began to pray. I have no idea what exactly he prayed, he never did tell me, and I doubt that he remembers the words. We have this nebulous idea of a “sinner’s prayer,” but conversion moments are often very different from each other.  

At this moment, the elders of the church gathered around him, placing their hands on him as he prayed. And so he prayed some more. He came to the end of his moment, and he wanted to leave, but the hands held him there. He prayed, trying to think up new words to portray his new found faith. But still, the hands held him. Inside, he began to panic. Had he made a mistake? Why would the hands not let him go? And then it occurred to him that maybe they were waiting for him to speak in tongues. What should he do? He stayed and prayed for a few more minutes, and then made the decision. It was time fake speaking in tongues (or in an unknown heavenly language).

As soon as the made-up words started to emerge from his mouth, the hands released him. And he stood up and walked out of the church. It would be years before he would enter one again, years before he could learn to trust those who called themselves Christian. And even then, the event left a mark on him.

Peter goes to the house of Cornelius and remarks that “the Holy Spirit came on them.” It is a pivotal moment in the story. This “moment of the Spirit” changes everything that follows. It signaled that God had accepted those who were not part of Judaism. God had accepted outsiders into the church. But the problem is that we don’t really know how Peter “knew” that the Spirit had come on them. Did he see the spiritual flames land on them as he had witnessed on the Day of Pentecost? Some believe that they must have spoken in tongues, and there is evidence that tongue speaking (a phenomenon called “glossolalia”) was involved. But the problem is that glossolalia can be faked, just as my friend faked his moment at the prayer rail. In fact, I think that much of what we know as “tongues speaking” in the contemporary church is faked, it is merely people trying to fit in by living up to an external expectation.

While “tongues speaking” might have been involved, I suspect that there was something more, probably something unquantifiable in this moment of conversion. And I suspect that there was a sense of unity and love that bridged the differences between the Jewish Peter and the Gentile Cornelius and his family. And this was the evidence that Peter sensed, his proof that the presence of the Holy Spirit had been poured out on the people in the room.

Unity and love are still the intangible elements of the arrival of the Holy Spirit. You may speak in tongues, but if you are not reacting in love, even to people who believe and behave differently from you, then I am afraid that your glossolalia is faked – or originating from a more sinister source. Where the Spirit of God reigns, there is love poured through us even to those who are not the same as us. The Spirit of God continually brings down the barriers. He is the one who still calls out to us,

“In the wilderness prepare
    the way for the Lord;
make straight in the desert
    a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be raised up,
    every mountain and hill made low;
the rough ground shall become level,
    the rugged places a plain.
And the glory of the Lord will be revealed,
    and all people will see it together.
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken” (Isaiah 40:3).

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Acts 12

The men replied, “We have come from Cornelius the centurion. He is a righteous and God-fearing man, who is respected by all the Jewish people. A holy angel told him to ask you to come to his house so that he could hear what you have to say.” – Acts 10:22

Today’s Scripture Reading (December 14, 2017): Acts 10

Charlotte Bronte in “Jane Eyre” writes “Prejudices, it is well known, are most difficult to eradicate from the heart whose soil has never been loosened or fertilized by education: they grow there, firm as weeds among stones.” All of our prejudices are rooted in ignorance or a severe lack of understanding. Unfortunately, prejudice not only grows from a lack of understanding, but it also forms a barrier to our desire to understand. Prejudices are almost always terminal conditions; they are unwarranted opinions that we will not release until we are securely in the grave.

Peter was a prejudiced person. He was not alone in this. Most of his compatriots were also prejudiced. It is hard to have it drilled into you that your people are the chosen people of God and emerge from that processes without having some prejudices, and misunderstandings of your role in life. The instructions given to Abraham was that his seed would be blessed so that they could be a blessing. More than just being God’s chosen people, the children of Abraham, of which Gentile Christians believe that we are a part by adoption, were supposed to be a conduit of God’s blessing to the world. This is a task at which the children of Abraham have almost universally failed. Instead of understanding our role as conduits of God’s blessing, we begin to believe that we are somehow unique and elevated by God over all other people. And this forms the beginning of our prejudice.   

So God begins to try to educate Peter. He knows that unless Peter comes to a new understanding of his position within the society, there is no way that he will be able to minister to people like Cornelius. Cornelius was a Gentile; translation, not one of God’s blessed people. Even worse, Cornelius was an officer in the Roman army. Israel was an occupied nation, and the Romans were the enemies. Cornelius wanted to hear the Gospel message from Peter. But for Peter to be a conduit, he had to give up the idea that he was superior. This kind of humility was not going to be easy for Peter, and there are indications that he struggled with his prejudices for most of the rest of his life.

The invitation from Cornelius’s servants comes in two parts. First, Peter is told that Cornelius was well-respected among the Jews. I am not sure how much influence that would have had on Peter. No matter how well respected Cornelius might have been, he was still a Gentile and still a Roman soldier. The second part of the invitation was that an angel of God had sent them to Peter. That comment, along with the lesson that Peter had just received from God, was probably what moved Peter. Things were changing quickly, and God was apparently beginning to step outside of his chosen people. As a result, Christianity was starting to look different than its ancestor faith Judaism. No longer would believers be marked by their obedience to the Law of Moses. Now, followers of God would be defined by their relationship with Jesus, their willingness to be servants and conduits rather than insisting on an elevated status in the world, and their surrendering of their prejudices, which only then would allow them to respond to the world in love.

Tomorrow’s Scripture Reading: Acts 11