Christmas Musings #9 Submission

 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

               As an officer, and later a teacher, one of the quickest ways to incur my wrath was to act in a fashion I did not consider properly submissive to my authority. As one of my students well put it, “Mr. Robinson, we know where the bright lines are. You’ve made that abundantly clear, and we also know that when we cross those lines, it will be very unpleasant.” I like to think I’m casual and easy going; however, I’m much more volatile than I like to think or admit. I come by this honestly.

               I remember when my kids were little, and they were playing with their cousins in my parent’s backyard. They were all young, early elementary. They got into something my father wanted left alone. Being children, they went back to the off-limits thing. He redirected them. After about the third time, he’d had enough. Shedding the easy-going-grandfather persona, he snapped at them in anger, raising his voice, and making sure they understood his boundaries. I can still see their shocked faces at his instantaneous transformation. I stood there grinning thinking, “Yup kids, you know the nice grandfather. That’s the Dad that I grew up with. A just and properly functioning family, or society, requires submission to authority.

               Whether in the Army, the classroom, the workplace, or society, we need to understand and be willing to submit to the proper authority. I’m not saying I always got it right as an officer, teacher, or father; but, I did make the effort to ensure good order and discipline. Jesus well understood this concept and was willing to live within it.

               Advent marks a radical change in the life of Jesus, the son. Previously He lived in unity with the Father and the Spirit. Now He had parents. Human parents. Fallible human parents. Think about that for a moment. As a child, I endured parents that made mistakes. Oh, they were good parents, but like all, they had their moments of failure. As a parent, I know that I made mistakes. More than once, I had to summon the moral courage to look at one, or all, of my children, swallow my pride, and admit to failure. Fortunately, they never seemed to hold it against me. Imagine if you were sinless. How would you feel about sinful parents?

               As part of the incarnation, Jesus had to put up with earthly human parents. Evidently, He did so without recorded complaint. Even when they did not understand Him as a youth in the temple, he submitted to their authority. I would have a hard time submitting to those who would properly be under my authority. As an officer, I cannot imagine letting a private tell me what to do. It just does not make sense; yet, Jesus did that in the extreme. The scriptural record offers scant details regarding the childhood of Jesus. What we do know paints the picture of a responsible and respectful young man. Even as an adult, Jesus allowed His mother Mary to rearrange His timetable. In an oddly comforting scene, He tells her that His time has not come. She does not even respond to Him, simply telling the servants to do what He says. When I think of Advent, I wonder how submitted am I? Would I willingly submit?

 

Christmas Musing #8 Learning, Learning, Learning

 ⁵² And Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man. Luke 2:52 English Standard Version

               Occasionally while chatting with friends someone will ask, “Would you like to go back to your childhood?” Often, they specify high school.

               I always say no. Now you must understand that I had a great childhood. Oh if you asked on certain days, say after getting a rejection notice from a girl, I would have bitterly lamented my fate; but, I really enjoyed my childhood. So many people I know suffered so much, while I did not. Deprivations and miseries did not mark my days. I seemed to make it out of high school without too many scars, just enough to say I was alive. So, why would I not go back?

               I would not want to be that ignorant and inexperienced again. Like everyone else at that age, I did not know much about anything. As a sixty-two year old man, I’ve accumulated many experiences and much knowledge. I’m not smarter or wiser than others my age, but I have learned a few things during my swings round the sun. I would not want to go backward. Now, if I could be sixteen with the intellect and experience of a mature adult, that would be fun, but not fair to the other sixteen year olds. I just would not want to put up with the knowledge deficit. The incarnation imposed such a deficit on Jesus.

               Luke tells us that Jesus grew up. Of course, he does so with more flair, “Jesus grew in wisdom, stature, and in favor with God and man.” He got smarter and bigger. Growing in wisdom implies that Jesus learned a thing or two. Imagine going from awesome to a gurgling infant, needing the tender ministrations of a young inexperienced mother to survive. The same voice that brought forth the universe as we know it; now could not even clearly articulate needs. Talk about a limited vocabulary. Wet diaper, cry. Cold, cry, Hungry, cry. Afraid, cry. Gassy, cry. Not much variation there. I remember the guessing game of infant children. He, or she, is crying. What do they need? Give a quick sniff, no they don’t need a new one of those. It was try this or try that until we stumbled upon the right thing. Jesus went through that.

               The same voice that articulated the construct of atoms and shaped galaxies, now could only grunt, coo, and perhaps give a toothless grin, which by the way, entranced His parents. Imagine, if you can, the scope of such limitations. Jesus embraced that in order to better know, serve, and save His lost ones. He became little and ignorant, just like any other infant. He was nothing special. As the prophet Isiah says, “² For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.” Isaiah 52:2 Evidently, Jesus did not stand out in a crowd. Somehow, He grew and learned like any other Jewish boy during that age. He set aside His form and majesty to help us understand him. What a comedown!

               I wouldn’t want to go back to being a teenager and the associated inexperience and ignorance; however, Jesus willingly undertook an even greater diminution. He did so to save you and me. That’s part of the incarnation. Jesus set aside all the vast experience and power, becoming an average infant and learning like you and me. During Advent, we do not celebrate an awesome superpower endowed infant. We celebrate a toothless, drooly, and totally dependent infant. God became one of us to save us. Now that’s astounding.

Christmas Musings #7 Disregarding the Cost

 ⁵ Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, ⁶ who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, ⁷ but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. ⁸ And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Philippians 2:5-8 English Standard Version

               A few years ago, the song “Reckless Love” burst on the worship scene, and quickly ignited a vigorous debate about the theological underpinnings of the song. And while I never minded singing the song, many I knew found it objectionable, refusing to either sing it during worship or include it in a worship service. I understand the theological objection stemming from the idea that an all-knowing, all-powerful God could be reckless. But I wonder. As I consider the incarnation it seems that from a human point of view at least, God behaves in a somewhat reckless fashion.

               During Christmas, the advent season, we celebrate God become flesh. In Philippians Paul says that Jesus “did not count.” The word reckless comes from a middle English word, recchen, defined as “to care, heed, have a mind, or be concerned about.” Paul reminds us that Jesus did not care for being equal to God. In the incarnation, Jesus poured himself out. Of course, I’m not a trained theologian and unable, in a few short lines, to adequately address the intricacies of the incarnation. But I do meditate on what Jesus becoming a human babe means, and find this challenging subject very worthwhile. Jesus set aside all the glorifying aspects of divinity, the things that make God unapprehensible so I might apprehend, take hold of Him and somehow find salvation. God drew near, becoming flesh to save me from myself.

               We admire and label as courageous those who disregard the cost and race into danger to save the helpless. Jesus knew the cost and chose not to consider it. He did not reckon equality as something important. So when I gaze into the manger, I’m looking at a savior who set aside all the perks of position so He might be apprehensible.

               As an officer in the Army, I attained the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, proving that if you stay in long enough and do not die on a deployment somewhere, they will promote just about anyone. I was superior in rank to the majority of other officers, NCOs, and soldiers in the Army. The Army is a hierarchical organization, so this does not really make a comment about me, there are many Lieutenant Colonels in the ranks, but many more inhabit the lower ranks. But those subordinate in rank had to salute and comply with my lawfully given orders. I freely admit that I took a certain amount of pleasure in my position. Starting off as a private and working my way up the ladder, it was kind of nice to enjoy a little recognition. Of course, working in proximity to very senior officers and generals had a way of keeping me grounded. But still, I relished the glinting silver oak-leaves. Jesus did not.

               In the light of the incarnation, the advent, Jesus was reckless. Of course, as an omniscient being, knowing the end from the beginning presents serious philosophical challenges. But during Christmas, I set those aside and focus on the breathtaking reality of God becoming one of us; even to the point of being an infant. As Paul says, He did not consider equality with God being worth holding on to. At the core, Christmas is about setting aside perks and privileges to help the weak and lost stumbling about in darkness.

              

 

Christmas Musings #6 Operational Zeal

 ⁷ Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forevermore. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this. Isaiah 9:7 English Standard Version

“Well, I think it’s stupid. You’re about to go some place where there are men who will try and kill you, and you think it’s a good thing. I think it’s stupid.”

Christy sat on our bed in Medenbach, Germany, watching as I packed my ruck for deployment to the invasion of Iraq the next morning. I had tried to explain it to her; but, there was no changing her mind, or mine for that matter. I’d been in the Army for fifteen years, and aside from a short deployment to Kosovo, had never really deployed to combat. Now at last, I had my chance to put all my years of training and experience to the test. Needless to say, I was quite excited, zealous in fact. I would not head out for future deployments with the same zeal. After the first deployment, I knew first-hand the peril and the wounds spiritual and mental armed combat brings. I would go without dragging my feet and willingly complete my assigned mission; however, experience diminished the zeal. When Jesus faced His deployment, He like any good soldier, did so with zeal.

The Marriam-Webster dictionary defines zeal as: eagerness and ardent interest in pursuit of something : FERVOR. Jesus approached His incarnation and time as one of us, knuckle-dragging Cro-Magnons, with zeal. He wanted to come. He eagerly sought out this chance to do His father’s bidding. Hebrews 12:2 puts it this way, “² looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” For the joy set before Him! Jesus approached all of His human experience with joy. This is why, at its core, advent is a joyous time. We celebrate the advent of the Christ, and He set the example.

Jesus did not come to earth dragging His heavenly feet. He came with zeal, ardor, enthusiasm, with joy. Our redeemer longed to bring in His lost sheep, and willingly came into our darkness to do so. Often when facing an unpleasant, but important task, I moan and complain about my sorry lot. This is unlike Jesus. Deployment to a combat zone is tough. I went from May until October without a hot shower. I bathed out of a bucket. I got very little sleep, about three or four hours a night when I got sleep. I wore two uniforms for a year, wash one wear one. I found out that getting shot at, IED’d, rocketed, and mortared was not fun. I had to do things that still give me the chills, and I saw things I’d like to forget. But I did all of that without changing who I am. I remained Matt Robinson, human being. It was different for Jesus. His deployment came with an incredible transformation, the incarnation. In the next few days we will look at this wild spiritual transformation, an act that still defies easy comprehension. But for today, let us think on the fact that Jesus moved from heaven to earth with great zeal. He took on this mission with joy. He set aside His glory to save us with great ardor. So when we celebrate advent, we’re joining Him in a joyful celebration.

Christmas Musings #5 Time Travel

 ⁵⁶ Your father Abraham rejoiced that he would see my day. He saw it and was glad.” John 8:56 English Standard Version

               Advent calls us to slip the bonds of our human concept of linear time and participate in a sort of time-travel. We do this through faith, as did Abraham. I’ve always been a fan of science-fiction, being a “Trekie” before being a “Trekie” was cool. I’m such a geek that my brother wisely looks upon any of my recommendations for a science-fiction movie with narrowed eyes. He knows through long experience that I do not discriminate much when it comes to science-fiction. I pretty much like it all. So, when scripture points out that through God I can see from afar and in some ephemeral fashion participate, I’m all in.

               So, each Advent season, I join Abraham and other faithful and view Advent up close and personal despite my linear time distance. Of course, I exist some two-thousand years after advent. I’m not talking about some mystical out-of-body experience…I don’t think. Each Christmas, as the day draws near, I spend more and more time in the environs of that small Judean hamlet. I read and consider all the events leading up to the incarnation and birth of Jesus. I join with the host of believers, some looking forward with others looking back. Together we make the trek to Bethlehem to worship the newborn king.

               While scripture does not call us to a specific feast or day dedicated to celebrating the birth of Jesus, it does encourage us to contemplate the importance of the incarnation. Through the incarnation God comes near, fulfilling a journey started long before the Lord spoke the world into existence. “³ And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.” Genesis 1:3 These words set of a chain of events that culminate in a humble birth in a quiet backwater hamlet and ultimately in an empty tomb. All this that I might enjoy a new life here and in the hereafter.

               So yes in a very special way, each year I engage in mental and spiritual time-travel. I look back and wonder how and why. How could God compress Himself into the form of a small baby? How could He divest Himself of all that power and glory, accepting the limitations of an infant boy? More importantly, why? Why would He place so much value on me? Why make such a long journey just to save this miserable wretch? Why would He choose such a lowly birth and life? He embraced a birth attended by shepherds. Sometime later, He did receive a group of magi, who brought gifts, worshiped, and then left. The creator and sustainer of the universe chose to live thirty years or so in obscurity, ignored by the very people He came to save. He worked as a carpenter, or craftsman, not an especially glamorous occupation; yet, surprisingly apropos for a being of such astounding creative ability and force. Such improbable events bear deep contemplation. What am I to make of this? So, each year I make the trek. I sit on a stony hillside and marvel at the angelic host. I go to the stable and wonder at the unbelievable birth of the Christ-Child, who set aside all for me. I invite you to take a pause in the mad rush of contemporary Christmas and join me in quiet observation of such amazing events of long ago.

Christmas Musings #4 Timing is Everything

 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 English Standard Version

               My father loved Christmas, especially Christmas music; however, he reveled in the entire season. During Christmas we enjoyed the only legitimate Robinson worship service skip days. Shortly after Thanksgiving, we would take one Wednesday evening to go and purchase a Christmas tree. Dad always insisted on a real tree. Only late in life when my mother developed serious allergies would Dad acquiesce and purchase an artificial tree. Then some time later we would gather with extremely close family friends, the Harpers and the Thompsons and enjoy a meal together, a devotional focused on the incarnation, and a small gift exchange; always held on a Wednesday. Dad would never celebrate Christmas early or late. He insisted on celebrating on December the twenty-fifth, and we always opened gifts on Christmas day, not Christmas Eve. It was his way of making the season special. Now do not get me wrong, he did not insist on believing that Jesus was actually born on the twenty-fifth of December. He just enjoyed celebrating the season and relished the anticipation. As the narrator of the movie, “A Christmas Story,” says, “The kid year revolved around Christmas.” Dad imbibed in all of the elements the season and for him, and now me, timing is everything.

               I start earlier. Usually, Christmas music makes an appearance right around Halloween. We trim our tree and decorate the house right after Thanksgiving. If at all possible, we open gifts on December the twenty-fifth; but, life in the military and other familial concerns have made me flexible regarding that. I let my season linger longer, necessitating an artificial tree to avoid an extreme fire hazard. In many ways, my year still revolves around Christmas. It represents many good things, but especially the advent of the Christ. I luxuriate in the splendid timing the advent demonstrates.

               Jesus did not show up in some haphazard way. He did not get up one morning and say, “I think I’ll become human today.” Scripture tells us that when the fullness of time had come. The time was just right. Truly, the stars were aligned just right. The wise men showed up…more about that some other day. My salvation, your salvation, our salvation, the world’s salvation was not left to mere chance. God orchestrated all things so that they would work out according to His plan. I Peter 1:20 indicates that God laid this plan down before He spoke the world into existence. And like the little boy growing up in Abilene, Texas, all the prophets and sages waited, trembling in great anticipation for the day, that great day of unveiling.

               Dad knew what I did not, that a joy eagerly anticipated is much sweeter for the waiting. I learned that waiting for the right time brings its own rewards. Jesus came at just the right time and the moment of His arrival was glorious. So glorious, the angels had to sing, the stars had to shine, the wise men had to come, and the shepherds had to share. The wait was over, God came close, and salvation was nigh. So yes, I wait. I wait with joyful anticipation. He’s coming; the wonderful counselor, mighty God, everlasting father, the prince of peace. He’s coming all wrapped up in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.

Christmas Musing #3 A Great Light

2 The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone. Isaiah 9:2

We are creatures that long to dwell in light. Aside from a few “night-owls,” we prefer daylight. It is easier to move about without problems, being able to see the pitfalls in front of us. For a while I served as a battalion S-4, or logistics officer. While out in the field, I was responsible for placing, manning, and operating the battalion logistics center, or ALOC. During one exercise, I placed the ALOC behind an old anti-tank ditch in order to help with defense. It seemed like a good idea to me. Late one night, the battalion commander dropped by for a visit. When he left, I offered him a ground-guide to get him out of the ALOC and onto the road. He refused the aid, not wanting to bother a soldier. A short time later, rather shaken, he returned to the ALOC with his driver. He’d become lost in the dark and stumbled into the anti-tank ditch in the dark moonless night. Knowing his driver would continue moving forward, he desperately crawled down the ditch narrowly avoiding getting crushed by his HMMWV when it pitched into the ditch. Lost in the dark, he stumbled into a very perilous situation. It took us the rest of the night to get his HMMWV out of the ditch and him back onto the road. 

Like my battalion commander, 0ur world stumbles along in the dark not knowing the impending danger bearing down on us. Each Christmas, I’m reminded of how failed our world is. Despite progress on various fronts, darkness still blights the landscape. People starve, children die in needless wars, and criminals lurk in the dark. All these things, and many more, still take place. But sadly, the greatest darkness exists inside our hearts. 

This interior darkness blinds us, making good decisions near impossible. Jesus came to shine His light into our darkness. The babe in Bethlehem brings His light into the world, helping us to see our hearts clearly. His light illuminates the brokenness of our hearts and the self-centered faulty decision making which plagues us all. He came to bring His light into a sad and broken world. His light informs our Christmas celebration. We festoon our houses, trees, and living rooms with lights. We refer to Christmas as the season of light. Intuitively we know that we exist in a world of darkness and that we need light. We find ourselves crawling down a ditch, desperately hoping to avoid being crushed by our own decisions. But we have hope. Jesus came to shine light into the darkness. He became man, was born in Bethlehem, and lived among men so that we might have hope of not spending our lives stumbling about, trapped in gloomy darkness.