Breaking the Rules

       Christmas seems to juxtapose the holy and the hectic, gratitude and grumbling; reflective worship and stressful frenzy.  I so desperately want to keep my focus on the gift of Christ.  Yet Jesus drifts to my periphery while demands and tasks occupy my focus.  I'm a first born "Martha" who works like crazy in the kitchen, doing all the responsible stuff and resenting those who seem so nonchalant, relaxed. . . and unhelpful!!  Yesterday was Christmas Eve and my prayer from the moment I woke up was "Jesus, let me worship.  I have a mountain of work to do, but let me worship You even as I work.  Let me not succumb to stress and driven-ness."

      But, there is a crazy prerequisite to worship and that is repentance.  I suspect that my reluctance to worship is rooted in the my reluctance to repent.  You see, even though I want to worship Jesus, there is something that I love more than Jesus:  my rules.   Although grace has freed me from the rules of religion, I am still imprisoned by the rules for relationship that I have created for myself.  Ironically, these rules are never more apparent than at Christmas!  Somehow that toxic mix of family togetherness, expectations and busy-ness often brings more disappointment than joy, anger than gladness, isolation than intimacy.

     My rules are subtle and seem justifiable, and not easily recognized.  But, when anger and judgementalness rear their ugly heads, I can follow their trail and find they originate in my rules for relationship.  Here is just a sampling:  "It must be nice for ________ to sit and watch t.v., while I have been on my feet all day."  "Why am I the only one working?"  "After all I've done, not a single person has said thank you."  "I'm just a commodity -- people only value me for what I do."  "I can't believe how selfish _______________is!" 

      I don't think my rules are unreasonable.  (Don't all reasonable people keep these same rules?!)  But, when these rules are broken, even inadvertently, by those close to me, I explode or escape.  Sadly, those closest to me experience my anger as I try to shame them into living by the rules.   But just as ugly is when I am silent.  I retreat with my "friends" self-pity, resentment and cynicism.  I isolate myself and let my heart shrivel under the urging of my false friends.   I choose the seeming safety of self-protection and withdrawal, but it is death to my heart.  I am imprisoned by my rules. 

     I need to be rescued.  And THIS is the essence of Christmas:  Jesus came to rescue me. . . from my failures, my hurtfulness, my sin AND from my rules.  Jesus came because rules are not enough.  The Ten Commandments could not save the Jews and my "rules for relationship" cannot save me.  Paul says it so clearly when he writes to the Romans:

      "Therefore no one will be declared righteous in his sight by observing the law (RULES!); rather 
       through the law we become conscious of sin.  But now a righteousness from God, apart from law, 
       has been made  known to which the Law and the Prophets testify.  This righteousness from God 
       comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. . . . for all have sinned and fall short of the 
       glory of God, and are justified  freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ 
       Jesus."  (Romans 3:  20-24)

     I think I like living by my rules, because it makes me feel in control.  I get angry when my rules are broken, because I'm not in control.  To repent and receive grace is to lose control.  It feels like jumping out of a plane without a working parachute.  Such helplessness seems crazy, ill-advised, foolish!  But I am never jumping alone.  Jesus is taking the jump with me and guiding me to a safe landing. 
      So on Christmas Eve, as my heart was filled with a the pressure of "things to do" and a litany of injustice done to me, I felt Jesus pulling me out of the plane.  I didn't want to repent, but I did want to worship.  I wanted to exchange my critical spirit and anger, for joy and peace.  And Jesus so kindly replayed for me how I constantly violated His rule of love.  Simply by judging others, I was a rule-breaker.  I repented -- "Jesus I am sorry.  Show me how to love.  Show me how to serve without expectation."  I jumped out of the plane and landed in a sweet place of worship. 

    And it occurs to me that Jesus not only came to save me from my rules, but He came in a way that broke all of the rules.  It wasn't fair that He  had to come to earth to save people who had repeatedly turned their back on God.   He didn't deserve being born into a poor Jewish family in a barn.  He didn't deserve the scorn of religious leaders and the rejection by so many people.  Ultimately, he didn't deserve death.  But Jesus loved mercy more than justice.  He broke the rules, so I could have a forever relationship with God.  The realization makes me want to worship again and again.  I'll keep jumping out of the plane of my safety to know a God who loves me that much.

       "Joy to the World, the Lord has come;
        Let earth receive her king;
        Let every heart prepare Him room;
        And heaven and nature sing, and heaven and nature sing,
        And heaven, and heaven and nature sing.

        He rules the world with truth and grace
        And makes the nations prove.
        The glories of His righteousness
        And wonders of His love, and wonders of His love
        And wonders, wonders of His love."

WORSHIP

     The next to last candle of Advent represents the Wisemen who came from a great distance to worship the King of the Jews.  There is great mystery surrounding this entourage of men.  The book of Matthew describes them as Magi, a term that denotes men of wisdom and learning.  They read books (a uncommon skill in the ancient world), knew history and studied sciences such as astrology.  Based on the gifts they brought, most assume they were wealthy, powerful, respected men. . . maybe even kings.  But, it's not clear how many of them there were, where they came from and how long they had traveled. 
     What is clear is that this caravan of men came for one simple reason:  to worship the newborn king of the Jews.  One of my favorite Christmas songs use to be "We Three Kings of Orient Are," mainly because of the melody.  I know the words by heart, yet they have never impacted my heart.
    
      "We three kings of Orient are,
        Bearing gifts we traverse afar,
        Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
        Following yonder star."

These men left their culture, their families and their reputations to worship.  They exchanged their own glory to give glory to another.  They had no road map or GPS, just a star to guide them.   They sacrificed time, money, personal energies and probably their social standing to follow a star and worship a king in a country that was not their own.
      I, on the other hand, sacrifice very little to go to church each Sunday and worship Jesus.  I drive only ten minutes away to a warm, safe building.  I can walk in with a coffee, chat with people who speak my language (mostly), sit surrounded my family and people I love, worship through great music and hear a stimulating message.  All this consumes a fraction of my day and honestly, requires very little of me.  So why do I still experience Sunday  morning reluctance to worship Jesus?  Why do I sometimes long to stay in my pajamas until noon, drink my coffee at home or work in my garden?   Why am I sometimes critical of a worship service?   And why do I let my feelings be a barometer of how "well" I worship my God?
     Somehow worship has become a self-serving, extra-curricular activity in my life.  I do not associate it with sacrifice.  I like to worship comfortable. 
      And yet the Bible is full of references of making sacrifices of praise.  "Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for me.  Let them sacrifice thank offerings and tell of his works with songs of joy."  Psalm 107: 21, 22 
     Am I willing to make sacrifices in order to worship Jesus?  This kind of worship can happen anytime at any place.  Will I sacrifice my agenda in the middle of busy days, to say "thank you" to Jesus?  Will I sacrifice some of my sleep in order to read His book to me and affirm He is my God?  Will I push through fatigue, discouragement and cynicism to look up and invite Him in?  Will I sacrifice getting my way in order to yield to His way? 
     This Christmas I am asking God to give me a fresh view of worship, a willingness that outstrips my reluctance and the belief that Jesus is really worth every bit of sacrifice.

Jesus' Birth Announcement

     Jesus enter this world humble and He comes to the humble.  He is born in the humble town of Bethlehem to humble parents during a time in history when the Jews have been humbled by being absorbed into the Roman Empire.  Not coincidentally, the first birth announcement goes to people living on the periphery of Jewish society:  shepherds.  The shepherds were essentially nomads who roamed the countryside, looking for fresh pastures for their sheep.  Men and boys, more accustomed to sleeping in open fields with their sheep than mingling among respectable citizens.  Even though the shepherds provided the sheep for Jewish sacrifices at the temple, they were considered too unclean to worship at the temple themselves. 
     To this faithful fringe of society, God displays His glory.  A company of angels, singing of the birth of Jesus and inviting the shepherds to go find Him and worship.  And here is the astounding thing. . . they DID.  They left their sheep, left their livelihood, left their comfort zone and ventured into Bethlehem.  (Picture homeless men walking through corporate high rises!)  This rough, humble band of men and boys willingly abandoned everything just to go and see Jesus in baby-form. 
     There are no details of what happened in their encounter with Mary, Joseph and Jesus, but SOMETHING transformed them.  These reticent, social outcasts were emboldened to go through Bethlehem telling everyone what they had seen.   Luke writes that "all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them."  (Luke 2:18)  The reality of the Messiah's arrival outstripped their inhibitions.  Just the birth of Jesus changed these men's lives in some way.  They returned to their flocks "glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told."  (Luke 2:20)
      Who is this God who bends so low and extends His love so far?  Imagine the poor of London being invited to Prince Charles and Princess Kate's wedding?  When in this world do we ever see grandeur interact with abject poverty.  Yes, there are celebrities and philanthropists that generously spotlight impoverish nations and raise money to help.  But who has ever gone to live among the poor?  Who would sacrifice their prominence, respectability, wealthy and comfort to live among the needy?  This is Jesus, Savior of every person who is humble enough to cry, "Have mercy on me, Lord, a sinner." 

"Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might destroy him who holds the power of death -- that is, the devil -- and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death."  Hebrews 2:14, 15

"For this reason he  had to be made like his brothers in every way, in order that hemight become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people.  Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted."  Hebrews 2: 17,18

An Advent Gift (by Susan)

                The “advent journey” of 2011 has been far different for me than years past. I love how God created it to be this way…a new journey, a fresh, new look at His unchanging truths. As His dearly loved children, he knows the perfect access to our heart. He has the perfect gift in mind that will continue to bless us well after the final candle has been snuffed out and the advent wreath has been put away for the year. For me, God had something special in mind. Since I love giving and receiving gifts, I would have picked the gift of “His loving presence”, “Peace that passes understanding:, “A quiet and meek spirit” would have been an awesome gift for my fiery personality! Instead, my gift was likened to that of “socks and underwear wrapped in an old Nike shoe box”. God’s gift for me was to kindly show me an aspect of sin in my life that would keep me from fully embracing Him this season and beyond. It has kept me from loving my family and friends fully and unfortunately, has been an unnoticed and unwelcomed guest in my heart for as long as I can remember. Perhaps you can relate, when I tell you that the sin of ENTITLEMENT had taken up residence in y heart and when poked with a stick, would rear its ugly heart. Let me put it in holiday terms you can understand. The song of my heart was “Me, Me, Me, My, My, My (sung to the tune of Jingle Bells!)”. Unfortunately, the older I’ve gotten, the more territory it’s claimed. Let me back up to explain the perfect timing to this perfect “gift.”

                Our church is approaching some changes and in early November, they asked us to prayerfully choose a 3-day period prior to Thanksgiving to pray and fast and seek God’s heart for us individually and corporately. My husband and I “picked” our days and I was aware of a growing expectation for God to do BIG things. I entered my fast immediately confessing my selfishness in “wanting something from God, ANYTHING, just make it good!” I decided the “open-hearted stance, expect nothing” approach might be a better way to approach the throne room! Very quickly and very quietly, during my prayer times, God delivered my gift in the kindest, most merciful way and quite matter-of-fact to be honest. There was no condemnation, no shame, (and no audible voice!), but the words were whispered into my heart and echoed around in there for the remaining days of my fast…..“You are a very entitled child.” It was my only “take away” from that fast, but plenty to chew on when the fast ended. While entitlement has resided in my blind spot for years, here’s what it reeks of….I want MY house to be clean and to stay clean. I want MY time to be protected. I want MY children to obey the first time…I mean it this time! Do NOT interrupt ME. Appreciate ME more. Love ME more….you get the idea! In months past, I have complained to my husband on numerous occasions how “entitled” our kids act…hmmm….I just DID NOT connect the dots on that one! But, God gives good and timely gifts and when He shows us our sin, it comes wrapped in the most luxurious mercy with a big, fat bow of grace slapped on top. This gift had a second phase, in case I missed God’s point the first time (which I do frequently!). My sister Stacy had dropped off a book in early November that she insisted was a “must read” (there are a lot of those in our family!). Time slipped away, and I got lost in seasonal preparations, so the book sat and collected dust. For some reason, I was compelled to pick it up about a week and a half ago…you may have heard of it…“Kisses From Katie.” God just needed me to read this book to tenderly remind me. He typically has this “multi-tiered” approach in growing me and “driving home” a point!  I could not put this book down and it just shredded me emotionally. The humility, obedience and utter dependence upon Christ is the theme of this story. At the tender age of eighteen, Katie Davis is light years beyond where I am in my “God walk.” That’s o.k., but I knew God wanted to use her story to AGAIN remind me that my entitlement has kept me from fully laying down “my rights” and fully giving myself over to His good and perfect plan. By opening my eyes to my entitlement, He was opening my eyes to the complete freedom in HIM that I am missing out on. Clinging to my rights has done nothing other than stir anger and selfishness within my soul. I was immediately reminded of Philippians 4:3 “Don’t be selfish, don’t live to make a good impression on others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourself. Don’t think only about your own affairs, but be interested in others, too, and what they are doing. Your attitude should be the same as that Christ Jesus had. Thought he was God, he did not demand and cling to his rights as God. He made himself nothing; he took the humble position of a slave and appeared in human form.” I know that the gift God wants from me is to fully lay down MY rights in all areas of my life, so he can give me the even better gift of utter reliance upon him each and every day…the freedom my heart really longs for. My sister Debbie and I used to sing a homespun song (well, more of a chant/cheer!) on our way to high school that went like this “today is the best day of our lives, tomorrow will be even better, today is a new package just waiting to be opened, so seize the day, live for today, wring it dry of every opportunity.” We didn’t really know that we were singing a freedom song…a song we both desperately need to this day. Each day is God’s gift to us…an invitation to live in the moment, tear off the wrapping, seize it and ask HIM how HE wants this day to be used. In laying down our rights, this freedom is ours to chase after. Live from a place of freedom during this sacred time of year and all the years God has ordained for you!

HUMILITY

"But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law, to redeem those under law, that we might receive the full rights of sons."  Galatians 4:4,5

Jesus' entry into the world in unlikely.  God has planned it from the beginning of time.  Prophets have foretold it.  Angels have announced it.  The Jews have expected it.  A Rescuer is coming, a Messiah, a Savior.  And yet, a baby is not what I would have expected.  A fiery chariot conducting Warrior Jesus to earth would better align with my idea of a Savior.  Not a baby born homeless. 
     If I lived in first century Palestine, I am sad to confess that I would have probably been counted among the Pharisees, the religious leaders among the Jews.  Pharisees were defenders of the Jewish faith.  They were religious and respectable.  They knew the rules, memorized the Scriptures and gave their lives to living righteous lives.  They were looking for the Messiah to come, but they missed him.  
     And so did I for most of my life.  I grew up going to church, learning the Bible and wanting to be that "good girl" that Jesus would be proud to have on His team.  I thought that keeping the rules would make me good and acceptable to God.  I missed what the Pharisees missed.  Jesus didn't come to make good people better.  He didn't come to put stars on the rule-keepers and shake His finger at the rule-breakers.  He didn't come to rub elbows with the respected, prominent, religious  movers-and-shakers.  He  came for the broken and needy.  Religion is about rules;  Jesus is about relationship.  Admit you can't be good enough, admit your best efforts are shot-through with self interest, admit you can't save yourself (and neither can those religious rules) and Jesus is there.
     It's the Gospel of humility and you won't find it in any religion in the world.  No human mind would conjure up a God who comes humble into the world, serving those He had created.  Ponder this:
      Jesus -- Son of God, Creator of the world, Giver of life -- entered the world through a backdoor, as a baby.
       He exchanged His riches for poverty;
       let His glory be wrapped in rags,
       disguised His strength in helplessness,
       obscured His wisdom in infancy,
       sacrified His dignity for dependency,
       and replaced His honor with humility.
Jesus loved the human race so much that He chose to enter into our space, take on our heartache, engage in our struggles, expose our failures and offer His amazing gift of forgiveness and healing.  He could have come as a super-hero. . . but He didn't.  He entered helpless and humble to demonstrate a love that is hard to grasp, a love that could only come from God.

For this is what the high and lofty One says --- He who lives forever, whose name is holy: 
"I live in a high and holy place, but also with him 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

Glorious Disruptions

     Not all disruptions are bad.  I will never forget when five years of infertility was disrupted by the adoption of Evan. . . soon followed by the birth of Audrey.  We welcomed the daily feedings, the baths, the crying, the rocking, the loss of sleep.    Things that most parents complained about we received gladly, because we had known the ache of living without. 
     I have a little window into how Elizabeth and Zechariah must have felt when Gabriel announced that they would have a baby.   Luke doesn't give us their age, but writes that they were "both well along in years" (Luke 1:7).  I'm sure they weren't "trying" to have a baby.  After years of dashed dreams, I suspect the hope for a baby had been safely shut away.  But, Luke also describes them as people who were faithful:  "Both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord's commandments and regulations blamelessly." (Luke 1:6)  Zechariah served as a priest; Elizabeth served as his wife.  They were faithful in what God had given them, even though having no children marked them as less favored by God and society.
     When Gabriel makes his appearance to Zechariah, the announcement of a child is startling.  Zechariah is doubtful.  He asks for proof.   He wants assurance.  The result is Zechariah losing his ability to speak until the baby is born.  But, Elizabeth receives the news with joy:  "The Lord has done this for me. . . In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people."  (Luke 1:25)  Elizabeth's broken heart brims with joy.  Her empty arms will be filled.  Her shame is replaced with favor.  Elizabeth gladly exchanges her quiet, predictable life for the adventure of raising a boy.
     Elizabeth's pregnancy shakes their town.  Everyone sees that God has shown mercy to Elizabeth.  They share in her joy.  When baby John is born and Zechariah's speech returns,  "the neighbors were all filled with awe, and throughout the hill country of Judea people were talking about all these things." (Luke 1:65)  John's birth is rightly seen as God's divine intervention.  Elizabeth and Zechariah's joy ripples through their community.  Zechariah's first words are to praise God.  He predicts the future of his son as he sings,

      "And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High;
          for you will go on before the Lord to prepare they way for him,
       To give his people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins,
       because of the tender mercy of our God,
       by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven
       to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death
       to guide our feet into the path of peace." (Luke 1:76-79

     This is our God.  A God who interrupts our lives in big and small ways.  A God of tender mercy, who regards the buried longings of a human heart.  A God who brings light into darkness, delighting to lavish good gifts like a baby to an aging couple. 


The story of Elizabeth and Zechariah is beautifully woven throughout the story of Jesus' birth.  Read Luke's narrative in Luke 1:5-25; 39-45 and 57-80. 

    

Daily Disruptions

     This is my favorite time of day:  the two hours before the house wakes up.  Most mornings I grab the dog and go for a run.  I breath in frosty air, feel the exhilaration of my heart beating and watch the horizon slowly grow lighter.  I come home to quiet. . . a cup of coffee. . . my Bible. . . my favorite chair.  During these pre-dawn hours, I am a good wife and mom, my husband is wonderful and my kids are angels.  The day before me appears exciting and manageable.  Life is as it should be.
     But even as I bask in this early morning peace, there are rumblings in the distance.  Soon feet will start down the stairs, mouths will open, the refrigerator will open, talking will ensue.   "What's for breakfast?"  "Can you take me to school early?"  "Can you make my lunch?"  "Where's my sweatshirt?"  My peace is disrupted with daily demands.  Some days the disruptions are manageable; other days they escalate and become much larger.  But, I've been around long enough to know some simple truths.  My time is not my own.  No day will ever look like what I've constructed in my daytimer.  Tasks always take longer than I expect.  Kids breath unpredictability into each day.  It's enough to make a control freak just stay in bed!
     Part of why I get up so early each day is to ready myself for each day.  It's not to "get a jump" on the day, but rather to ready my heart, to sit and listen to my Maker, to offer my efforts up to the One who gives life. 
This morning I prayed, 
         "You are the God of this day.  I confess that I want to be god of this day.  I want to control and rule and make all things work according to my plan.  I want to preserve my own comfort and sense of competency.  I want to manage my husband and kids, keep a clean house, catch up on all the laundry, serve a hot dinner and finish my Christmas shopping.  Left to myself, I will push and bully and hurt those I love just to keep this day manageable.  But God, this is not my day and I fail every time I try to be god of my own life.  This is your day.  I am your child.  Your ways are higher than mine and your plans always deviate from my own.  So please take this day and take my heart.  Let me hold tightly to You with both hands and hold loosely to my own agenda.  Give me your eyes to see what is important to you.  Give me your ears to really listen to those around me.  Give me your heart, so I am moved by what moves you.  Let me take every disruption as a divine opportunity to need you more and to see you at work.  Help me to want you more than the "easy button."  Give me the courage to yield to your plan for this day.
       
   "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,"  declares the Lord.  "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."  Isaiah 55:8, 9