Christmas Musing #32 A Small Package

¹⁵ When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.” ¹⁶ And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger.  Luke 2:15-16 English Standard Version

               When I was growing up, my best friend and I enjoyed an odd Christmas tradition. His family lived right behind us across the alley. Our families were close; close enough for us to enter through each other’s back door unannounced. After the “official” Christmas festivities had ended, late in the afternoon, we would trek back and forth between our houses examining the Christmas loot. Our parents employed similar presenting practices. We both would get a couple of fun gifts and a few practical gifts. It was always exciting to check out each other’s stuff. I remember one year he got extra large Army men. Most Army men are an inch or so in height, these were several inches tall. We played with those for years. In some ways, those visitations were the high point of the day. We shuttled back and forth between our houses with haste and glee, rejoicing at the cool things we got. Like the shepherds we wanted to see.

               Some of you have joined me on this month-long trek to see the babe in the manger. We received the news that our savior had been born and were given signs to look for. So off we went, hoping to see something wonderful at the end of our journey. And then we find our Lord and Savior in the most humble of circumstances, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a feeding trough. As in the first century, most of us miss him. As John would put it in his gospel,

“⁹ The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. ¹⁰ He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. ¹¹ He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. John 1:9-11

               We do not know or receive Him because we expect something different, something more grand or impressive somehow. The creator, king of the universe, and savior of mankind doesn’t show up as a feeble, toothless baby. He especially doesn’t show up in the care of a young peasant girl and blue-collar-carpenter. But we find Immanuel, lying in a feeding-trough because there was no room for Him in a better place! We just find that hard to accept. But there He is, unexpectedly plain and insignificant. Will we respond like the shepherds and Maji or will we miss Him like Herod and the rest of the power-brokers in Palestine? So at the end of a long journey from heaven to earth, from God Almighty to an infant child, we behold Him, and worship the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace.

Christmas Musing #31 Breathless Anticipation

 ¹² And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger. Luke 2:12 English Standard Version

               As I remember it, neither my brother nor I particularly succumbed to the temptation to open Christmas gifts early or expended much energy snooping about, hoping to find hidden Christmas gifts. We seemed content to wait for the corporate opening. I do remember occasionally asking to open one on Christmas Eve; but, my father always met that request with a solemn, “No, on Christmas Day only.” Of course, we responded by waking up as early as possible on Christmas morning…until we were teenagers that is. I still find that part of the joy of Christmas comes wrapped up in breathless anticipation.

               Waiting to find out what lies beneath the pretty paper and ribbon brings great joy. When we were younger, my parents normally gave us one significant toy and then a few more prosaic, useful gifts. We always enjoyed opening that special gift. My parents seemed to know exactly what would please us. Our practice of carefully marking the J.C. Penny’s and Sears Catalogues probably helped; however, they rarely got us something we’d identified. Normally it was something unusual and especially fitting to our personalities and proclivities. One year I did not get the “cool” gift. I was disappointed. My mother asked me if I liked the game. I asked what game. It turned out that in the crush of getting things done before Christmas, she’d neglected to wrap it. I ran to the indicated closet and was overjoyed by a really cool board game, which I played for years, this being long before the advent of video games. We enjoy gifts and all the possibilities they represent.

               All of creation held its collective breath in anticipation of the Advent of Immanuel. The Jews ached for the promised Messiah and the new era. The marginalized and downtrodden longed for relief and comfort. The shepherds hurried to see this savior, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. The Maji trekked hundreds of miles to see the new king. All them arrived in Bethlehem breathless with anticipation. They wanted to see this great new wonder heralded by stars and angels. And we too arrive in Bethlehem aquiver with expectation of something new, something wonderful.

               We exist in a dark and broken world. Glance through any newspaper and you will see headlines replete with disaster and disappointment. Our culture creaks along barely able to function. Disorder and chaos seem ready to pounce at any moment. The weak, marginalized, and insignificant labor against tremendous odds, often unable to rise above their circumstances. The wealthy and powerful still crush the poor and helpless in their insatiable thirst for influence and domination. We need something better.

               So on Christmas Eve, we all shuffle to Bethlehem, breathless with hope and desire for something, anything better. We’ve been told that our security and salvation lies in a manger, wrapped up and waiting. We hope that the messenger was not wrong, or we were deluded or mistaken. We need help from those foes outside and sadly, from our own malignant urgings and weaknesses. So, on Christmas Eve we peer into the manger ready to unwrap the great gift.

Christmas Musing #30 Pondering the Wonderful

 ⁵¹ And he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was submissive to them. And his mother treasured up all these things in her heart. Luke 2:51 English Standard Version

               “Mr. Robinson, do you know what I liked the most about your class,” a former student recently asked me?

               I wasn’t sure how to respond. Was it the reading material I assigned? Was it the fact that I let them drink coffee or hot chocolate in my class, an oddity in High School? Perhaps, it was the fun assignments? After all, I did try and dream up interesting things for students to do. Maybe it was the art or group projects? Those always seemed to get a warm response. Maybe, just maybe, it was the fun lectures? I did know that some students enjoyed the classroom discussions spawned by the lectures.

               “I’m not sure,” I replied, “What was it?

               “Christmas time,” they said, “I always knew that once you started playing Christmas music on the first of November, we’d get a day to decorate the classroom and then when we came back from Christmas break, we’d get a day to take down all the decorations.”

               Though it wasn’t quite what I expected, it could have been worse. I enjoy Christmas, all of it. But I love the deep spiritual meditation of the season. Sometimes the crush of events and the bedlam of racing from place to place distracts me, and I forget to pause and consider the import of Advent. I am possessed of a disposition that often worries about minutia. I want things to be “just so.” Fortunately, when the darkness falls and the quiet descends, Bethlehem beckons. In my mind I go to the stable, take my place, and stand my watch with the assembled. I consider the astounding miracle of God becoming flesh. The how eludes me. How can the being who created this earth and all that is in it compress themselves into a small infant child. Even more slippery and incomprehensible is the why.

               Why would the Lord care so much? Like Mary, I’ve stored all these things up in my mind. Through scripture, I travel all the way back to the garden and hear the crunch that echoes down through time. More importantly, I hear the promise of a coming salvation and its echo. God whispers to many different people in different ways, “I’m coming, and I will set things right.” The Maji turn and bid me join them in their long journey to worship and honor the new-born king. The shepherds, sitting on the hill, amazed at the rent sky and heavenly hosts spilling out with God’s glory, call to me to join them in seeking the Christ-Child.

               We all come to the manger in the stable. Yes, I know the Maji probably came later; however, in my mind we all arrive at the manger together. All of creation holds its breath in wonder at this mighty miracle, wrapped in infant flesh swathed in strips of cloth, lying on a bed of straw. Sitting alone in the soft glow of our Christmas lights, I turn these things over in my mind and wonder. Why would He care so much? Luke got it right, all of these things are treasure, coins to spend on those days when my heart grows sick of sin and the darkness of the world. They are coin to spend on the rejuvenation of my heart. So each Christmas, I ponder on this wonderful thing that God has done that makes all the difference for me…and this sin-sick world.

Christmas Musing #29 Things Hidden

 ²⁵ At that time Jesus declared, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; ²⁶ yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. Matthew 11:25-26 English Standard Version

               Birth is a time of peril, and more importantly of great joy. Recently a good friend of mine anxiously sweated out the birth of his first grandchild. For medical reasons, they induced labor. I thought that meant a quick delivery…not always the case. For a couple of days, we got regular updates and eventually the longed-for text, “I can hear the cry of my grandson.” We all rejoiced and sent congratulatory texts. It was a moment of great celebration. I remember a few years ago when the world waited with great anxiousness the birth of a new member of the British Royal Family. Once things were complete, the Royal Family heralded the birth of a new king with great fanfare and proclamations around the globe. The royal line secured; all their realm breathed a great sigh of relief. A son had been born and the throne would pass on to a new generation without break or chaos. I remember sitting on the floor of our quarters in Germany, calling my parents after the birth of my son, a moment of relief and great rejoicing. We love sharing the great news of a new generation, a torch passed, a family expanded.

               God is not any different. When Jesus was born, God wanted to share the good news. His son, the messiah, Immanuel, was safely delivered. We like to share good news with important people, people who will rejoice with us. In the Army we carry on a tradition of the Cup-n-Flower-Fund. Part of what we do is rejoice with one another, giving new members of the military family a small remembrance of a new birth. So, when Jesus made His entry into our reality, God looked around for someone to share the good news with. Here is where it gets interesting.

               Think of all the major personalities of the first century, Caesar, Herod, and the leaders of the Jews, Pharisees, Sadducees, and Herodians. These are the beautiful people of the age. You would think that God would send them an invitation to see His newborn son. No, they did not get one because they did not get it. God sends an invite to the shepherds. “⁸ And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. ⁹ And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear. Luke 2:8-9 God picked the lowest members of the community to send a special invite. Of course, they were quite frightened, but what an honor, to be on God’s shortlist for an invite to see His newborn son. In His interaction with the shepherds, God shows us something important; God seeks those with humble hearts to share the good news with. The proud and high up do not rate the special call. There is something about the lowly, meek, and downtrodden that draws God’s heart.

               Advent ought to focus us on the marginalized of our society, after all God reached out to them first. Cast your mind back to that dark night in the Judean hill country. All is quiet and peaceful. Perhaps you gaze up into the stars in wonder. Perhaps you simply stand watch over the sheep trying to keep from dozing off, when suddenly the dark night is rent and the glory of the Lord shines all around and you find yourself face to face with the Herald Angel. Life will not be the same. As always, Advent changes things.

              

Christmas Musing #28 They Came from Afar Part 3

¹¹ And going into the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh. Matthew 2:11 English Standard Version

               “I know what you’re going to say, Dad,” sighed one of my children.

               “Well, it’s true your presence is a present,” I replied, “I know that you’re not exactly flush with cash right now. Coming to visit us represents a sacrifice on your part and that means a lot to your mother and me. When things settle down and you’re able, you’ll give gifts. So, don’t worry about it.”

               “I just hate not being able to give because of a mistake that I made,” they moaned.

               “Well, we all make mistakes and that’s how we learn. Stop worrying about it and enjoy the season and the visit,” I said.

               “Okay, I will.”

               “Good, let’s not talk about it anymore.”

               We like to give gifts at Christmas. I enjoy going out and hunting and gathering, as Christy likes to say. The gifts need not be extravagant. Sometimes, a small insignificant gift means quite a lot. We enjoy providing loved ones with a tangible token of our love. It reminds them of the esteem in which we hold them. So, each Christmas, package, boxes, and bags appear underneath our tree. We continue a long tradition started by the Maji, exchanging gifts at Christmas.

               I like to think about the gifts of the Maji, not the symbolic nature of the gold, frankincense, and myrrh. I enjoy thinking about the love and honor the Maji showed through their gifts. I suspect that the Maji were men of means; after all they could afford a long trek. I think they were educated men. They knew enough to interpret the sign of the rising star. They were men of faith, responding to a dream and altering their return travel plans. The Western tradition says there were three men, Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthazar, though we do not know their names. I suppose we came up with three names because of the three gifts. What I like to meditate on is the care they must have shown in transporting these gifts all the way to Bethlehem. No handy Walmart or Target to run to at the last minute. No, these gifts were carefully chosen, packed, and carried quite some distance. These gifts represent honor and devotion, no gift-receipt needed.

               When we join in the tradition of giving gifts, we show our loved ones similar honor and devotion. That is why we say, “it is the thought that counts.” My child, who cannot afford to give me a gift, shows me honor and devotion by spending time with me, like the wise-men. They do not have the cash to pop open gold, frankincense, or myrrh…or the modern equivalent…but they will be here. You and I have nothing to offer the king, Jesus, Immanuel, but we can show up. We can worship. We can honor Him with our presence.

Christmas Musings #27 The Came from Afar Part 2

¹ Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem, ² saying, “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” Matthew 2:1-2 English Standard Version

               “What do you want lieutenant,” asked my battalion commander? My company commander sat there smiling since he knew. It was 1989 in Kaiserslautern; Federal Republic of Germany and I was in the 327^th Signal Company. I’d found out that a platoon leader position was opening up at one of our remote signal stations. Unfortunately, it was being given to a lieutenant that was junior to me, simply because he was single, and I was married with an infant son. The battalion commander was concerned that the daily commute would be a burden upon my family. I was serving as the company supply and maintenance officer; positions that while important were not leadership positions, and officers need those leadership positions to thrive and grow in the service. I talked to my commander and obtained his permission to ask the battalion commander directly. So, I polished my shoes, put on my dress uniform, and gathered my courage for the talk.

               In answer to his question, I replied, “Sir, I think you should reconsider who you plan to assign to the open platoon leader position. I think I’ve earned the right to that position.”

               “Well,” he said, “I’m concerned about the commute that will require.”

               “Well sir, that is not your worry, that is my worry. I’m senior to the other lieutenant and have earned the right to that position.” Skipping all the other small talk involved, I walked out of that office into the platoon leader’s job, and quite an adventure. The Maji of Matthew’s gospel took similar risk.

               We do not know the details of their journey, but we can surmise that it took time and resources. A journey of any length in those days involved risk, significant risk. There were deserts to cross, mountains to pass, and often brigands to face down. There were financial considerations as well. A trek of such magnitude would require a substantial outlay of resources, aside from gold, frankincense, and myrrh. If they came from the Persian area, they were facing a trek of six months or so. The other possibilities were of even greater length. Some traditions have them coming all the way from China! Imagine the length of such a passage. All of this is speculation, since we do not know the details of their trip; however, no matter how you think about it, this entailed expense and risk, two things we like to avoid today. But they did it anyway.

               They did this all to visit an infant. I wonder what they knew. They knew that there was a new king of the Jews. They knew that a star had announced his arrival, but they did not know exactly where he was. They had to make a stop in Jerusalem to refine their map. The Maji make me wonder, what kind of risk am I willing to take? I also wonder, what have I missed because I was unwilling to listen to God and take risk? After all, the Maji took risk based on seeing a star rise. Are there stars calling me out into a greater advent experience that I’m missing?

              

Christmas Musing #26 They Came from Afar Part 1

 ¹ Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem, ² saying, “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” Matthew 2:1-2 English Standard Version

               I like mysteries, particularly cozy-mystery novels. I came to this genre fairly late in life, while I was in graduate school. In case you’ve never heard of them, here is a decent working definition: Cozy mysteries are a sub-genre of crime fiction in which sex and violence occur offstage, the detective is an amateur sleuth, and the crime and detection take place in a small, socially-intimate community. Of course, there are many variations on the theme; however, this is a fairly good definition. I also enjoy well executed television mysteries. I suppose it is the sense of the mysterious that intrigues me, the feeling of important things unknown and needing discovery. Usually, after all is done for the day, I close things out reading a good mystery. I’m currently reading a series set in thirteenth century England. I’m on the third novel and enjoying it quite a bit. There is a long-running tangled knot slowly unraveling bit by shadowy bit. There are ten in the series. In an interesting twist, the protagonist is an actual historical character. Whatever the cause, I enjoy a good whodunit. Perhaps that is why I find the “wise-men” or Maji so intriguing.

               We know so little about these strangers from the East. The Greek word the ESV translates as wise men, could also be translated as a “Magian, an (Oriental) astrologer, by implication a magician Usage: a sorcerer, a magician, a wizard.” I copied this from Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance. They traveled from some location east of Palestine. They followed a star that they believed heralded the birth of a new King of the Jews. They stopped first in Jerusalem; where they stirred up Herod and generated significant angst and political intrigue. Once they gathered more intel, they moved on to Bethlehem. Upon finding Jesus they worshiped and gave gifts. They listened to a dream and returned to their shadowy place of origin without stopping in Jerusalem. After that, they disappear from the Biblical record. I have so many unanswered questions concerning the Wise-Men.

               They represent one of the great mysteries of the Bible. How did they know. Many assume, and this is reasonable, that they got their prophetic word through the Jewish Diaspora. We still wonder about the basis for their knowledge. Also, why did God reach out to them. After all, they did not belong to the children of Israel. But reach out He did, and this calling gives me great joy and hope. The Wise-Men remind me that God reaches out to all, Jew, and Gentile alike. Those who seek Him, respond. The Maji undertook a long journey. We surmise that they came from some ancient kingdom, perhaps Persia or the area of modern-day Saudi Arabia. We do not know where or why; we do know they came. They wanted to see and worship. They mystery surrounding these men satisfies me. It reminds me that God works in ways wonderous, and He does not always provide me all the details. As scripture says, His ways are not my ways. He calls me to trust Him in those moments of ambiguity. I do not need to know all about the wise men. I need to know that they saw the star, they traveled a long way, and they worshiped. Perhaps at Christmas, I can simplify my Advent celebrations in a like manner, I see, I journey, and I worship.

Christmas Musing #25 A Heavenly Performance

 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”  Luke 2:13,14

Pablito enjoys choir practice.  The soaring voices singing praises lift his spirits.  When the trumpets loudly play his wings tremble.  For weeks they have been practicing announcing the birth of Jesus, God’s only son. 

Today was a special day.  The choir director flitted back and forth between the orchestra and the choir.  “Everyone, everyone!” she said clapping her hands. 

“Today is the day.  We will be going to earth to announce the birth of Jesus.  He will be born soon.  Now get in line.  We leave in just a few minutes!”

Pablito was nervous and excited.  He did not want to sing badly.  He lined up with the other choir members and the band. Pablito was not quite sure how they would get to earth from heaven, but he could not wait to go.

“Places everyone.” said the choir director.

“Trumpets up!” chimed in the orchestra conductor.  Everything quieted down.  All Pablito could hear was the rustle of wings and the thumping of his heart.

Instantly, with no warning, they were no longer in heaven!  The bright light of heaven was replaced by the dark night of earth.  Pablito looked down on rugged hills with fluffy sheep sleeping among the rocks and crags. 

Then suddenly, God’s own special glory lit up the night, and Gabriel, God’s great messenger angel was talking to the shepherds who looked very pale and afraid in God’s brilliant light.  Something had gone wrong! This was not a great palace or God’s grand temple.  They were not even near a big city!  The only lights came from a small village nestled in a valley.  These poor shepherds and sheep could not be God’s chosen audience.  This was very bad.

Suddenly the music started.  Startled, Pablito joined the music ringing out across the dark hills.  The amazed shepherds, reflecting the brightness of heaven, gazed up at them in wonderment smiling huge smiles.  Joyful anthems of praise echoed back from the hills.

Almost before it started, the performance was over and they were back in heaven.  Everyone looked very happy as they clapped each other on the back saying, “Job well done!  Couldn’t have been better.  I’m sure He will be pleased.” 

Pablito stood silently, not exactly sure what had happened.  Why was everyone so happy when they had obviously gone to the wrong place and sang to the wrong people?

“Pablito,” Ezekiel asked, “why do you look so confused?” as a smile crinkled his eyes.

“I thought we were going to announce the birth of Jesus to important people.”

“You did.  And you did it wonderfully.”

“Perhaps we sang well.  But to the wrong people!” Pablito replied.

“What do you mean, ‘the wrong people’?” said Ezekiel wings gently waving.

“Well, we sang to some poor shepherds and their sheep way out in the dark!”

“Pablito.  Take my hand and come with me.  But keep quiet.”  Wondering, Pablito took his hand and once again the bright lights of heaven faded away, and the dark hills of Judea swam into view. “Why are we here?” he asked.

“Shush!  Look over there Pablito.  And please keep your voice down.  What do you see?”

By pale star light Pablito saw a small group of shepherds heading toward the village.  “I see shepherds hurrying through the night.” he said.

“That’s right.  Let’s follow them.” Ezekiel answered.

Pablito and Ezekiel followed the shepherds as they made their way down the dark path, close enough to hear voices but not make out the words.

The shepherds came to a small inn at the edge of the village of Bethlehem and gathered around the door.  Light from inside casts long shadows while they speak with the innkeeper.  After a hurried consultation, they walk to the stable in the back.

In the soft light Pablito watched the shepherds kneeling around a tired young mother and worried father tenderly caring for a sleeping baby in a manger.  It was God’s own son, sleeping on a bed of straw!  He was wrapped in long strips of cloth.  As He lay there a bit of drool ran down His cheek and His mother Mary, gently wiped it away.

“You see, Pablito, these shepherds are humble seekers.  They take care of their sheep as the Lord takes care of His.  Their hearts are soft, and they wanted to see the Messiah.  Men who live in big palaces sometimes fill their hearts with things of this world.  The men who tend these sheep filled their hearts with things of the next.  The Master chose His audience carefully.  Come, we need to go back now.”

As Earth faded away, Pablito saw the shepherds slipping away.  Their voices lifted in the song they had heard Pablito sing.  As they made their way back to the hills and their sheep and Pablito returned to heaven, wonder filled all their hearts.

At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants; Matthew 11:25

Christmas Musings #24 A Matter of Reputation

³⁸ And Mary said, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.” And the angel departed from her. Luke 1:38 English Standard Version

               An unplanned pregnancy devastates the life of a young woman and her family. While I was a teacher I saw this happen occasionally, and it was always traumatic. All her plans, dreams, and hopes suddenly evaporated in a cauldron of hurt, anger, recriminations, and blame. Sadly, most of the time the father simply absconds with little impact. Sometimes the family turns their back on her, leaving the mother to deal with the wreckage alone and without support, physical or emotional. Friends drift away as the burdens of being a mother shunt their lives in radically different directions. Peers often judge the mother immoral and somehow damaged. If the mother is fortunate, her family rallies around her, providing support, encouragement, and guidance during this life-altering experience. I watched one young woman overcome. She graduated from high school and then went on to college, graduating recently. Her friends did not abandon her. Her parents did their best to give her the assistance she needed, and from my seat on the sidelines, they did an excellent job. Despite the radical change in her life, she seems to have done well. Mary faced just such a challenge.

               Often lost in the Advent story is the profound impact this pregnancy had on Mary’s life. In our modern culture, an unplanned pregnancy need not be the end of the world, and while there is a certain amount of social stigma, it is not as overwhelmingly negative an event as it was in the first century. Mary’s pregnancy generated a significant social stigma. In her day, an unplanned pregnancy might cause stoning. Joseph had decided to divorce her quietly, avoiding the worst results. Even then, Mary would have faced life as an impoverished outcast. Still today in our culture which is rather casual regarding pregnancy outside of marriage, a single mother faces serious problems. But Mary accepted this challenge gracefully.

               After hearing the message from the angel, she simply says let it be so. She places her faith in the Lord to provide for her in the troubles she’s sure will come her way. Until the angel visits Joseph, he seems to react as most men would. “Oh, she’s been sleeping with someone else, well so much for the marriage.”

Imagine telling mom and dad, by the way this baby-bump is from the Lord. I can see their reaction in my mind. Telling friends would not be any easier. Even after Joseph and Mary tie the knot, the raised eyebrows and whispering would not stop, “Did you hear about Mary? Well, I don’t want to spread rumors, but they couldn’t wait. Hummnnn.”

               All of this adds up to a challenging start for the marriage and for Jesus. A certain level of societal disapproval would follow them for some time. Eventually it would subside, but the pain of being the vessel of Emanuel would leave a mark. It is often that way. Scour scripture and you find that being God’s servant often comes with great personal discomfort. As I mentioned in an earlier musing, we tend to focus on God’s blessings, which are manifold; but, we also tend to minimize the challenges of being His servant. Sometimes submission hurts. Sometimes the mission comes with great personal sacrifice. Sometimes, as in the case of Mary, we may find our reputation sullied unfairly.

Christmas Musing #23 Armed to the Teeth

¹⁵ For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Hebrews 4:15 English Standard Version

               While in Iraq, I always went about armed. When I went outside the wire, I was always fully kitted up with body armor, my assigned weapon, another weapon I’d convinced the armorer I needed, as much ammunition as I could carry, and an assortment of grenades both anti-personnel and smoke. I also carried a couple of knives, not that I was well trained in their use, but hey just in case. Especially during my first tour, I went places and did things that were not very safe or wise. During later tours we knew more and adjusted our tactics appropriately. But, I always wanted to be prepared to do battle. I did not get into many scrapes; but, when I did I was able to acquit myself appropriately. As they say, I was armed to the teeth. Jesus took a different approach.

               Advent marks the heavenly D-Day. God came to earth to do battle with satan, the mortal enemy, the great dragon. Unlike me, who took all the weapons available just in case, Jesus set aside all His powerful weapons and engaged satan as a tiny human infant. We think of Advent as a peaceful season. In some ways that is most appropriate. Jesus came to earth in the form of a human baby weak, innocent, and powerless. But despite all the peaceful, quiet trappings, Advent marks the start of heaven’s invasion of enemy held territory, and God did not show up guns blazing. He showed up quietly, so quietly that no one noticed, unless they received a special invitation, but more about that another day.

               Jesus engaged His enemy armed with the same weapons that you and I have, no more and no less. As a babe, and later a child, He fought satan as you and I do; with prayer, faith, and dependent upon help from the Father. As the writer of Hebrews says, “He sympathizes with our weakness.” He Himself was weak. Horses, cattle, and many other animals can stand and walk a few minutes after birth. Not Jesus. He came into this world weak and helpless. He could not do a thing for Himself. He looked to a young, possibly teenaged, mother for everything He needed, everything. The almighty Lord God of all, creator and sustainer of the universe waited on a young woman to feed Him, warm Him, change Him, sooth Him, and comfort Him. He faced all the troubles, turmoil, and temptations of this life armed as we are.

               Later, as He faced His ultimate temptation, one of His followers drew a sword to defend Him. He forbade it, remarking that if He desired, He could call legions of angels to defend Him, but He did not. Advent astounds us in its inherent weakness. When we engage in battle we seek to be as strong as possible. Our Lord chose a different path, and in choosing that path He comes to understand us deeply. He knows what it is like to be weak and insignificant. He loves that much. He willingly garbed Himself in our flesh to understand and love us. All that power, might, and glory set aside just so He could sympathize with His people and save them fully and completely. So Advent, the opening round of spiritual D-Day, does not arrive with a mighty roar, it arrives with a gurgling cry.

Christmas Musing #22 Name Recognition

 ¹⁰ He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. John 1:10 English Standard Version

               Occasionally I hear these words while out and about in Lubbock, “Hey Mr. Robinson.” I know that when I turn around, I’m about to see a former student. While I always remember the face, the name is another story. I always desperately cudgel my brain, hoping the proper name will surface. Sadly, the name frequently proves elusive, slippery like some sort of newt or salamander. These are always sensitive moments. It’s embarrassing for me and disappointing for the student. I miss the Army and nametags. The nametag got me out of many desperate social situations. We crave recognition, the reassurance that we are known and loved, important to someone that we matter. Imagine the bemusement of Jesus.

               Here was the creator of the universe, the maker of the world, the one who crafted night and day unrecognized and hidden. In scripture, any time someone meets God, or even an angel, they fall on their face or swoon. God is so holy and so powerful that even Moses, who talked with God on a regular basis, could not look on His face and live. The King James Version renders the close of the intriguing cleft of the rock passage like this, “²³ And I will take away mine hand, and thou shalt see my back parts: but my face shall not be seen.” Exodus 33:23 King James Version. All Moses could safely see was “my back parts.” Many Sundays we blithely sing about see God in all His glory, as if that were a casual encounter. But when Jesus came to earth, things changed.

               Despite the fact that all His core attributes remained, when Jesus set aside His glory, we missed Him. I’m not enough of a trained theologian to fully explain the incarnation; but, it amazes me that Jesus would take such a step. We do not fully comprehend who or what God is. Many stories of kings going incognito show up in literature. Clothing themselves in common garb, they move among their subjects unknown and learn much about their realm. Through the incarnation, Jesus robes Himself in flesh, laying aside all those things that stand between Him and His people. Now we see Him face to face, as if we were casual friends, and oddly, often we do not recognize Him.

               Of course, no one expected that the creator would show up as a squirming infant. I knew a Lieutenant Colonel who, right before he took command of a battalion, dressed casually and went to the barracks area one weekend, passing himself off as an NCO from neighboring organization in order to hear what soldiers thought of the unit. He craved an unvarnished view of his new command. What he learned that day shaped his actions over the next few weeks and months. In a like manner, Jesus wanted to know what life was like in our shoes. He walked the proverbial mile in order to show His love and to know His children intimately. In Advent, God comes to us in a form we can comprehend, a form we can see without danger. That’s how much God loves us. He yearns to show us His face. He grew weary of only letting us see His “back parts.” In Advent, He invites us to draw close, look inside the manger, see His face, and rejoice in Emanuel.

Christmas Musing #21 Christmas Journey

 ⁴ And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the town of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, ⁵ to be registered with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. Luke 2:4-5 English Standard Version

               Today, Christy and I drove from Cloudcroft, New Mexico to Lubbock, Texas, as distance of two-hundred-sixty-one miles on Highway 82. It took us about four and half hours. We drive this route frequently. Christy likes to get the driving out of the way, so we get up early. In fact, she likes to leave quickly, so she packs the day before. The road between Cloudcroft and Artisia was fogged in. In the mountains it was quite beautiful with the early morning sun periodically gilding the trees, fences, houses, and yes cows. Of course, I did have to watch out for deer; but, the journey is easily completed. We do not even have to stop for gas. With my cellphone plugged into the car for music, pleasant conversation with Christy, and the self-driving aids turned on, the trip passes rather quickly, unlike the journey for Joseph and a pregnant Mary.

               Bethlehem is about sixty miles from Nazareth; however, that would be a straight line, as the crow flies distance. Given that Joseph and Mary were observant Jews, they probably went around Samaria, possibly adding another thirty miles or so to the trek. Imagine undertaking such a journey being nine months pregnant! While the Biblical record makes no mention of a donkey, or any beast of burden, I find it hard to fathom a woman walking ninety miles right before she gives birth. Such a trip would take somewhere between one and two weeks. Whatever the route and whether Mary road or walked or not does not really matter. A decree from Caesar impelled them to decamp Nazareth and head for Bethlehem, the city of David, or was it prophetic utterance that made them head south.

               Much of contemporary Christian practice centers around God doing good things for or to me. We tend to think about how my relationship with God solves problems temporal and spiritual. I’m the same way. I try to make my prayer life about praising God for His holiness and thanking Him for His great grace and blessing; but I fear that much of my prayer centers around petitioning God for things that I want. Even our hymnody has shifted. Much of our worship music focuses on a personal relationship with God and what He does for me. God does love us and yearn to bless us, and I’m not saying that we should not beseech Him for His blessing and favor. Yet, I cannot read scripture and escape that conclusion that often God asks His people to do difficult things and be in uncomfortable situations. Advent is no exception.

               In order to fulfill prophecy, Joseph and Mary had to take on a journey at the worst possible time, when Mary was about to deliver. That is how it unfolded. Joseph and his bride to be trudged mile after dusty mile. We do not know how long it took; we can only guess. How did they find lodging during the journey? Was the Bethlehem stable the first, or was it just one in a string of stables? All of these questions, while interesting, are immaterial. Joseph and Mary made the trip and Jesus was born in David’s City. But that journey pales when compared with the journey from heaven to earth, from Divine Creator to squalling Baby, from Heaven’s throne to nowheresville Nazareth. It seems that travel during Christmas enjoys a very long tradition.  

Christmas Musing #20 What Dreams May Come

 ²⁰ 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. Matthew 1:20 English Standard Version

               I enjoy an active vigorous dream life. Most nights I dream, and the vast majority are spectacular pleasant affairs. Occasionally, I endure a tense dream, usually about being late to some activity or other; however, most of my dreams are innocuous and sometimes quite entertaining. I do not give my dreams much in the way of deep thought. I consider them just part of my nighttime brain scouring. You know, my subconscious sorts thought the detritus accumulated as part of my daily activities. Eventually it, my subconscious, must make certain decisions about the ordering and storing of materials…at least that is what I tell myself. But, Joseph, and many of the ancients, thought otherwise.

               We do not know much about Joseph. He traced his lineage back to David’s house. He worked as a carpenter, or tradesman. He was a just man, enjoying some status in the Synagogue of Nazareth. We assume he was older than Mary; but, we do not know this from scripture. Apparently, he died before Jesus entered His public ministry. He had several other children through Mary. He carefully observed the Law of Moses, taking his family to Jerusalem for Passover every year. And that’s about it. Scripture just does not provide us with much more detail about Joseph. One thing we do know, he willingly made significant life decisions based on dreams or visions.

               Think about this for a few minutes. Joseph is engaged to Mary. He finds out she’s pregnant, telling him that this is a miraculous event. He decides to divorce her quietly, avoiding the public outcry which might well have ended in her execution through stoning. We may surmise that he’s a compassionate man. Then he has the dream.

               In his dream an angel comes to him, telling him to go ahead and marry Mary. Going ahead with the nuptials involves serious considerations for Joseph. He will have to contend with continual rumors of his being cuckhold before his marriage. In a small community such as Nazareth, tongues will wag. Not only will he face ridicule from his compatriots, but he might also lose good standing in the Synagogue. After all, he willingly married a sinful woman. He must endure at least nine months of celibacy. When in the Army, Christy and I endured multiple deployments lasting a year. Enforced celibacy is not fun; however, Joseph accepted that challenge. He will raise a son, not his own. Joseph exhibits great grace and trust, trust in Mary and trust in God. All of this due to a dream in the night.

               What kind of faith enables a man to make such a life altering decision based on a dream. Eventually, Joseph will make a series of decisions based on dreams. He will leave Bethlehem based on a dream, fleeing to Egypt in order to escape political terrorism. He will return to Palestine, again based on a dream, moving on to Nazareth also due to a dream. All of these significant life events stem from dreams in the night. I probably would have considered adjusting how much garlic I put in my Falafel. Joseph, being a man of faith, considered taking radical actions based on dreams. In many ways, Advent is a dreamy time. A time in which we consider strange and unusual circumstances, such as God becoming man and all the marvelous implications stemming from that.

              

Christmas Musing #19 A Father’s Heart

 

¹⁶ And he will turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God, ¹⁷ and he will go before him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, to make ready for the Lord a people prepared.” Luke 1:16-17 English Standard Version

               I was blessed by and enjoyed the presence of a Godly father in my life. While my father was not perfect, he was there and active. As we say in the Army, he was hip-deep in hand grenade pins and putting rounds downrange my entire life. As he lay dying in the hospital, he murmured, “I’ve always been proud of you, son.” Even to the end, he sought to encourage and strengthen me. He came from a broken home and engaged in the long fight to set a different course for my life. To use a Biblical turn of phrase, he inclined his heart toward me.

               Sadly, today many, if not most, people did not enjoy the presence and influence of a Godly father. If they are lucky, their fathers are deeply engaged in setting a schedule for their lives, thinking busyness will substitute for true, deep, loving, engaged father. Helicopter parenting does not necessarily indicate parental involvement. Other fathers seek to replace engagement with material blessings. They imagine that providing a big house, nice clothes, and the latest toys will replace estrangement. So many of us pour our lives into our work, while our children suffer the pain of a missing father. And then there are many children who suffer from an absent father, either emotionally or physically. This is not a new problem. Simply peruse scripture and you will find that ever since the fall in the garden, fathers have done a poor job raising our children. Our weak selfish fathering produces aimless and reckless children; but, God never intended it to be that way.

               God is a God of relationship and reconciliation. He designed us to enjoy close, meaningful, and strengthening relationships, especially in the context of family. Advent displays God’s deep abiding desire for close relationship. We rightly tend to focus on the Emanuel, God came near, portions of Advent; but, God yearns for much more. He wants fathers to incline their hearts toward their children. He sets the example by inclining His heart toward us and sending His son to show us the way.

               Christy and I will spend considerable time finding the right presents for our children. I text them, asking for recommendations. But what they want the most is my abiding love in the form of presence. Even though they are mature and grown, they still long for and appreciate my physical presence. They want a father whose heart is inclined towards them. They rightly associate presence with love and concern. Long ago my children left behind the need for daily instruction and guidance. They are adults and chart their own course for better or for worse; but, they still need me and long for my presence. Knowing that I still care about them and am willing to spend time with them, strengthens them against the challenges and insults this world sends their way. Advent is all about presence.

               God became one of us, Emanuel, and part of our preparation for Advent should be turning toward family, especially our children. The best gift I can give my children, even as they are adults, is my focus and time. Contrary to what many may say, you cannot schedule quality time. Quality time springs from an abundance of time. So this Advent, we make sure that our hearts are inclined towards our children, making a present of our presence.

              

Christmas Musing #18 The Season of Light

 ⁵ The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:5 English Standard Version

               When we lived in San Antonio, we rented a house in a nice area of town. Unbeknownst to us, it was part of a Homeowners Association. Normally this did not impact us, until Christmas time. A few weeks before Christmas a five-pound bag of sand, a stack of white paper bags, and a package of tea-light candles appeared on our porch, along with a sheet of instructions. Our HOA expected everyone to line their sidewalk with luminarias. I like Christmas decorations and especially Christmas lights. When my brother and I were kids, we pestered the frog out of my father to festoon our house with Christmas lights. He always refused, saying he did not want to take the trouble; however, at least once during each Christmas season we would all load up into the old Ford Station-Wagon and cruise around Abilene, taking in all the lights. Some neighborhoods, say around Lytle Shores or Sayles Boulevard went all out, and were quite impressive. Once when I was very little, my mother dug out all the old candle holders, put them on the tree, stuck candles in them, and then casting caution to the winds, lit them. She wanted to show us what Christmas trees looked like in her home growing up. Again, quite impressive but only done once…that I remember. For various reasons, Christmas and lights remain intertwined. Unlike my father, I do hang Christmas lights on my house. In Lubbock, I pay a former student to do so. In Cloudcroft, Christy and I hang them on our low eves, no ladders involved in that task. Each evening as I shuffle off to bed, I turn off the lights and for a little while sit in the glow of the lights on the tree and scattered around our house. Light and Christmas just go together, and it should be so.

               Though we do not normally consider John 1 as an “Advent” scripture, it really is. John carefully describes what happened in Advent, and why it is so important. I love the portion where he says, “the darkness has not overcome it.” We live in a broken and often dark world. As a teacher, I was constantly amazed at the sufferings visited upon many of my students. The things that take place behind closed doors stun me. I only read one newspaper and do not watch televised news. I limit my intake of news to maintain a positive outlook. I’m not hiding from the world, though I might consider doing that. I just understand that a continual focus on all the brokenness around me eventually drags me off God and His light. Perhaps that is why Christmas is so important, at least to me. For a month or so each year, I focus on Advent and what God did through it. I’m reminded that God’s true light came into the world, shone in all its glory, and still shines today. Try as it might, the darkness cannot quench the light.

               Some versions of the Bible render the word overcome as comprehend. I like that as well. The darkness does not understand the light. The light just does not make sense to the powers of darkness. But as John says later in this section, “¹² But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, ¹³ who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.” John 1:12-13 God gives us the right to become children of and the understanding to believe in the light. Each Christmas I meditate on and thank God for this great gift. As I drive around and marvel at the lights festooning my word at Christmas, I’m reminded that we celebrate God’s light, His entry into our world, and how that changes everything.

Christmas Musings #17 The “I Love Me” Wall

 ⁵ For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult and every garment rolled in blood will be burned as fuel for the fire. Isaiah 9:5 English Standard Version

               Every soldier has one, their “I Love Me” wall. Look inside the office or home of any soldier and you will find it. Even those of us who’ve left active duty, whether retired or simply ETS’d (Expiration - Termination of Service) have one. Some are quite large and gaudy, while others are more sedate or subdued, but we all have them. They are the place where we enshrine, or memorialize, our service. Sometimes they are filled with memorabilia, awards, and trinkets gathered from far-flung places. Sometimes they are shadow-boxes filled with medals, unit patches, and rank insignia. They remind a soldier, and their family, of a time of hard work and sometimes in time of war, great sacrifice. I have mine. Periodically, when no one is looking, I stop and look it over remembering the men and women that I served with and the things, sometimes dangerous and astounding things that we did together. I take pride in my service…and then at Christmas time I read Isaiah 9.

               Isaiah 9:5 always sobers me up, bringing me back down to earth. In my closet hang my uniforms. I’m not sure why I kept them, but I did. After I retired from the Army, I pursued a career as a teacher. Every November, I would drag out my dress uniforms, dust them off and put them on, taking a bit of pride in the fact that I could still manage to button them up. My students and coworkers were always impressed with the shiny bits, even though I cannot claim to be highly decorated. They indicate good and honorable service with a couple of awards for actions in combat, no awards for great heroism. The uniforms serve no real purpose now. They just take up space in my closet; however, I find it hard to throw them away. They, and my “I Love Me Wall,” represent twenty-seven years of my adult life, a portion which gives me pride. But when considered in the light of Advent, they lose much of their luster and importance.

               In Advent Emanuel reorders things. The conquering soldier, the men who gained their position through force of arms, find out that they are not truly powerful. The truly powerful one arrives on the scene as a little baby. He does not come adorned with emblems of rank or honor. He does not demand His own way. He does not conquer. He’s known differently. Isaiah goes on to pen a famous description of the savior, one that we read regularly.

⁶ 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. Isaiah 9:6

               Those precious and powerful words of comfort roll down through the ages landing in my life, demolishing the pride of my “I Love Me Wall.” It is not that my service was dishonorable, it’s just that my service has no saving power. They are snippets of ribbon, shiny bits of metal, and trinkets with no power. In the end, they will serve as fuel for the fire. The true power of reality rests in a small infant child who goes by the name of peace, comfort, and counselor. Emanuel came not to bludgeon, but to ensure reconciliation, bind up the wounded, and bring ordered thinking to the disordered mind. And while I do not intend on taking down my “I Love Me Wall,” Advent puts it into proper perspective. It is not something I put my faith and trust in; after all, it is destined for the ash-heap and has no power. All power rests in a little child, sleeping in a manger because there was no room for Him in the inn.

Christmas Musings #16 Those Pesky Relations

 

The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham. Matthew 1:1 English Standard Version

               Growing up there was one portion of Christmas I did not look forward to, the reading of the genealogy of Jesus. The reader would stand up and drone on and on with a list of near unpronounceable names of people I did not know. Why should I care about men, and a few women, who were long dust in their graves? I grew up in a congregation which believed that hearing and understanding the word of God was a significant component of our faith. We believed, and I still do, that God’s word is important and speaks to me across the millennia. Now, that does not mean all scripture carries the same impact in all seasons of my life, but none of it should be discarded. Today, the genealogies mean much more to me than they did to my younger self, squirming in the pew, hoping to get on to whatever was next.

               The genealogies help ground Jesus in a specific time, place, and faith community. When I read the lists closely, I find some interesting things that help strengthen my faith. I’m surprised at the list of “scoundrels” that God used to secure His son’s place in history. Jesus’ genealogy contains murders, philanderers, bigamists, a prostitute, a swindler, and a weak-kneed husband or two. That gives me hope. After all, my genealogy also contains a few questionable people. Not everyone that contributed to my heritage was especially upright. If the savior of the world can list such ne’er-do-wells in His official biography, then perhaps I should not worry about my own questionable forefathers. In some communities and cultures, ancestors count. Even in our own egalitarian culture, coming from the “wrong side of the tracks” can limit one’s prospects. Reading Jesus’ genealogy reminds me that not only does my background not determine my future, it also should not cause me to look askance at someone else. I dare not turn up my nose at someone’s pedigree…or my own.

               Truth be told, I’m much closer to the malcontents and miscreants than Jesus. Some of you that might read this know well my own misdeeds as many of them were distressingly public. When I read Jesus’ genealogy, I’m reminded that God can still use me despite my own failings and weakness. God uses the weakest and most failed among us to move His plan forward. I would not choose a prostitute as part of the family tree, but God did. He sees potentials that I do not. He looks past the dirty messy places and envisions something new, something better, and at times, something wonderful. Where I see failure, He sees opportunity. Jesus did not hide behind a sterling family tree. He presented it with all the blemishes, nuts, and failures out in the open for all to see. When I focus on my own failures, Advent reminds me that God can work with them, bringing about a future that I could not dream of.

               Now I enjoy the long list of forebearers. I still cannot pronounce all the names and I do not know all their stories, but I know enough. I do not need to hang my head in shame when confronted with the dark spots of my heritage. They are there, but they do not define my family, or me. I also know that I’m not too far gone to be of use to God, the God of resurrection, and neither are you. So, this advent season, take a few minutes and read the genealogy of Jesus and savor the fact that God used this rather motley crew to bring about something great. If He used them for wonderful, He will use you for wonderful too.

Christmas Musing #14 Powerful #2

 ⁷ And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. Luke 2:7 English Standard Version

               Watching age overwhelm your parents is sobering. In the past few years I watched my vibrant, active parents slowly succumb to the ravages of time. Age, infirmity, and disease took away their abilities, rendering them unable to do the things they loved. My mother, a wonderful cook, lost her ability to remember how. My father could not engage in historical and political debates with the same vigor and easy recall of facts. In the end, both of them lost much of their power to control and manage their own lives, depending upon my brother, others, and me. Fortunately for all involved, they made this difficult journey with grace, as did Jesus.

               We tend to think of Jesus stilling the storm, walking on water, and raising the dead; all of which are significant to our faith. We also tend to focus on the cross and His death. Again, critical to our faith. But Jesus did not die on the cross only. He died to Himself at His birth. He gave up all His power and control to be one of us.

               Imagine giving up that level of control. I don’t like it when the TV remote is not sitting right beside me. The day I retired from the Army was the last day I shaved. Jesus enjoyed much greater power than I do. His voice brought forth the cosmos. His hands shaped humanity. His mind conceived of reality as you and I know and understand it. He gave all of that up to be like us. We all chafe at any curtailment of our rights and privileges. He freely handed them over to Joseph and Mary.

               What a confining experience to be bound not only by swaddling cloths, but also by gravity. Even more limiting would be the decision making ceded to His parents. One of the reasons I like to cook is that I never eat anything I don’t like, unless I burn the toast. My mother was a great cook, but sometimes she chose things I did not like. But, as a child of the 60s and 70s, I had to eat what was put before me. Occasionally, I had to choke down some liver-n-onions…bleah. I have no idea what Jesus did or did not like; but, I know that he gave up control. Why would such a powerful being willingly embrace limitations?

               He did so to know us intimately. Advent celebrations remind us that Jesus became one of us to know what our lives are like. As a child, I read about soldiers and played army; however, it was not until I endured basic training, becoming a soldier, that I knew what soldiering was all about. Jesus wanted to fully understand what it was like to live as one of His creation, so He endured a severe curtailment of his power and authority to join us. Advent and all the images of the babe in the manger push these thoughts into the forefront of my mind annually. Amid all the rush and bother of the holiday season, I stop, pause, and consider how much He gave up to know me. Jesus set aside so much power and might all just to be a tender and merciful savior.

Christmas Musing #14 Powerful #1

 

⁵ And he brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be.” ⁶ And he believed the Lord, and he counted it to him as righteousness. Genesis 15:5-6

               Power, and displays of power, enthrall us. Our military budget grows every year. Yet, we continually employ a parsimonious attitude toward helping the weak, sickly, poor, and marginalized in our country. Despite historically low violent crime rates, we remain a country armed to the teeth with more weapons than individuals. Our police drive around our cities armed to the teeth and looking like they are ready to engage in a running gun-battle. We seem to have forgotten the reminder in scripture ⁵² Then Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place. For all who take the sword will perish by the sword. Matthew 25:52 We embrace power as if it we a shield; however, in God’s plan things operate differently.

               Whenever I think of Advent, my spirit loiters over Abraham. Abraham exemplifies how God views earthly displays of might and power. God needed to raise up a race of people to demonstrate His holiness and love. You or I would probably consider the Hittites, Egyptians, or perhaps the Chaldeans. You know, the powerful nations of the ancient world. Look at Egypt, perhaps the longest-lived empire. Of course, the Chinese could make a strong claim to be the oldest continual empire, but we’re not really delving into history here. The point is, God did not reach out to the powerful when working out His plan. He needed to build a people, so He looked around and settled on Abram. The name change came later.

               Think about God’s choice and what that says about Advent. Here He is, forming a nation, through which He will make His entry into humanity. He chooses an obscure man and woman that remain childless. While it is true that Abraham was well to do, he did not wield much in the way of power. When he and Sari (her name also changed later) sojourned in Egypt, Abram would try and pass off Sari as his sister to avoid harassment and perhaps murder by the local leadership. In fact, he does this twice, and while technically true, he comes across as weak and weaselly. But he’s the guy God chooses to groom into the father of the faithful, and through Abram God blesses all of us. The joy, and challenge, of Advent rests in weakness, not awesome thundering power.

               In all the events leading up to Advent, God chooses the weak and powerless to move the narrative forward. Abram fathers the nation long after his natural ability had faded. God steps in and intervenes and viola, Isaac.  Advent reminds me to trust in God’s promises, not my strength and ability. Long after my own abilities fail, He takes over. When we walk through Advent, we’re reminded that He changes things and that His power often comes in weak and insignificant packages that the world may well miss. So, like Abram, I stand and look up at the stars, unable to count them, and wonder at the might creative God who not only notices me, but also reaches out to me in my weakness. He uses this paradoxical approach to tenderly join us. In Advent we see the gentle Lord coming down to minister to His lost sheep.

Christmas Musing #13 Not a FRAGO

 ⁶ Yet among the mature we do impart wisdom, although it is not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are doomed to pass away. ⁷ But we impart a secret and hidden wisdom of God, which God decreed before the ages for our glory. I Corinthians 2:6-7

               No plan survives first contact with the enemy. This is an old and quite true Army adage. Despite all our planning and intel-gathering once combat starts, the enemy gets a vote. Things rarely go the way we plan; consequently, in all operations we issue FRAGOs to account for changes in the situation. FRAGO stands for Fragmentary Order. They are shorter and less involved than the original Operations Order, or OPORD. I spent much of my time in Iraq writing FRAGOs. FRAGOs enable a unit to continue to operate in the highly fluid cauldron we call modern armed conflict. One night in Baghdad, the Chief of Staff of 1AD (First Armored Division) tasked me with writing a FRAGO, getting his approval on it, and issuing to the subordinate unit before I went down for the evening. He went to his room and lay down to catch a few minutes of sleep while I wrote the FRAGO. Early in the morning, sometime around two or three, I finished it. I went and woke him up, handed the FRAGO to him, answered a few questions, obtained his signature, and then issued the FRAGO. Then I lay down in my hooch for a few minutes of sleep. When I returned to the Command Post a couple of hours later, he confronted me, enraged. “Major,” he screamed, “You did not write and issue the FRAGO like I told you to!”

               “Yes Sir, I did,” I replied.

               “No, you did not,” he bellowed, “I do not remember you waking me!”

               “Yes Sir, I did. Here’s the FRAGO with your signature.”

               Stunned he snatched the FRAGO from my hand, glaring at the offending signature. There was nothing he could say. Not only had he signed the FRAGO, I had also sent it as he instructed. Exhausted and bewildered by the fog of war, he had not remembered our conversation in the middle of the night.

               “Well, I still think it’s not a good FRAGO,” he mumbled as he walked away. War is confusing on good days. Things change moment by moment necessitating an agile response and numerous FRAGOs. Eventually the stack of FRAGOs we issued during that first year in Baghdad would fill a bookshelf full of three-ring binders. Advent is no FRAGO.

               Jesus coming to earth was not “Plan B.” Before creation. Before He spoke light into existence. Before the mountains rose and the oceans rolled. Before the first plants sprang forth and the first creatures printed the dirt. Before He squatted down and gathered dust, blowing life into lifeless dirt. God planned to come to earth as one of His creatures. Advent is “Plan A,” the original Operations Order. God did not issue a FRAGO to adjust to changed circumstances. As scripture says, “⁴ But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, ⁵ to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. Galatians 4:4-5

               Advent marks the invasion of God into human existence. Jesus came when the time was right and things unfolded as planned, no FRAGOs needed. The time was full, creation was pregnant with need, so He came and was born into our reality. Despite the fluid and often chaotic nature of combat, Jesus did not need to make adjustments. The time was right.