Awake! Awake, Tziyon!
Clothe yourself with your strength!
Dress in your splendid garments,
Yerushalayim, the holy city!
For the uncircumcised and the unclean
will enter you no more.
Shake off the dust! Arise!
Be enthroned, Yerushalayim!
Loosen the chains on your neck,
captive daughter of Tziyon!
For thus says Adonai:
“You were sold for nothing,
and you will be redeemed without money.”
For thus says Adonai Elohim:
“Long ago my people went down to Egypt
to live there as aliens,
and Ashur oppressed them for no reason.
So now, what should I do here,” asks Adonai,
“since my people were carried off for nothing?
Their oppressors are howling,” says Adonai,
“and my name is always being insulted, daily.
Therefore my people will know my name;
therefore on that day they will know
that I, the one speaking — here I am!”

How beautiful on the mountains
are the feet of him who brings good news,
proclaiming shalom, bringing good news
of good things, announcing salvation
and saying to Tziyon, “Your God is King!”
Listen! Your watchmen are raising their voices,
shouting for joy together.
For they will see, before their own eyes,
Adonai returning to Tziyon.

Break out into joy! Sing together,
you ruins of Yerushalayim!
For Adonai has comforted his people,
he has redeemed Yerushalayim!
Adonai has bared his holy arm
in the sight of every nation,
and all the ends of the earth will see
the salvation of our God.

Isaiah 52:1-10 (CJB)

Who believes our report?
To whom is the arm of Adonai revealed?
For before him he grew up like a young plant,
like a root out of dry ground.
He was not well-formed or especially handsome;
we saw him, but his appearance did not attract us.
People despised and avoided him,
a man of pains, well acquainted with illness.
Like someone from whom people turn their faces,
he was despised; we did not value him.

In fact, it was our diseases he bore,
our pains from which he suffered;
yet we regarded him as punished,
stricken and afflicted by God.
But he was wounded because of our crimes,
crushed because of our sins;
the disciplining that makes us whole fell on him,
and by his bruises we are healed.

We all, like sheep, went astray;
we turned, each one, to his own way;
yet Adonai laid on him
the guilt of all of us.

Though mistreated, he was submissive —
he did not open his mouth.
Like a lamb led to be slaughtered,
like a sheep silent before its shearers,
he did not open his mouth.
After forcible arrest and sentencing,
he was taken away;
and none of his generation protested
his being cut off from the land of the living
for the crimes of my people,
who deserved the punishment themselves.
He was given a grave among the wicked;
in his death he was with a rich man.

Although he had done no violence
and had said nothing deceptive,
yet it pleased Adonai to crush him with illness,
to see if he would present himself as a guilt offering.
If he does, he will see his offspring;
and he will prolong his days;
and at his hand Adonai’s desire
will be accomplished.
After this ordeal, he will see satisfaction.
“By his knowing [pain and sacrifice],
my righteous servant makes many righteous;
it is for their sins that he suffers.
Therefore I will assign him a share with the great,
he will divide the spoil with the mighty,
for having exposed himself to death
and being counted among the sinners,
while actually bearing the sin of many
and interceding for the offenders.”

Isaiah 53:1-12 (CJB)

“Arise, shine [Yerushalayim],
for your light has come,
the glory of Adonai
has risen over you.
For although darkness covers the earth
and thick darkness the peoples;
on you Adonai will rise;
over you will be seen his glory.
Nations will go toward your light
and kings toward your shining splendor. 

Isaiah 60:1-3 (CJB)

            Israel was waiting for a Messiah. He had been promised and they spent centuries trying to hold on to that hope. What they awaited was a king. Someone who would come in power to redeem His people. Someone who would make the nations tremble. What they got was a baby. 

            God often works in this way. When His people need Him, He sends a baby. He sent Moses and protected him in a basket in a river. He sent Joseph, born as a twerpy younger brother. He sent David, the little shepherd boy with the courage to face lions, bears, and giants. But I’m still not sure that is what Israel expected. 

            This December is like all the others before it. It is dark. It is too busy. It feels like a lot of pressure. There doesn’t seem to be anything special about this December. It is all so ordinary. Maybe it feels a little weird because the world seems to have halted and flipped upside down on us. But for the most part—this is just December. The tree, the lights, the songs—it can all start to feel very ho-hum. It can all start to feel less than magical. And that’s okay. Because God sent a Baby instead of an army. He chose Bethlehem as His hometown. He chose a poor family. He chose a manger. That all seems a little… less-than. Jesus comes in the ordinariness of time and space. He comes to a poor family in a stable. He comes to us in this ordinary December. 

            Right now, it may look dark, but the glory of God will arise. We will see His Light. The Light is coming soon! He came the first time to suffering that bore our shame and guilt and redeemed us from the darkness. He is coming again to make all things new. Today, ready your heart. Is your heart ready to see Him in the clouds? Are you ready for the night to end? The Son will soon arise—be ready. 

Today’s Song: Here with Us by Joy Williams

The post Untriumphantly: Who Doesn’t Love a Baby? appeared first on Notes From the Parsonage.

In the beginning was the Word,
    and the Word was with God,

and the Word was God.
    He was with God in the beginning.

All things came to be through him,
    and without him nothing made had being.

In him was life,
    and the life was the light of mankind.

The light shines in the darkness,
    and the darkness has not suppressed it.

There was a man sent from God whose name was Yochanan. He came to be a testimony, to bear witness concerning the light; so that through him, everyone might put his trust in God and be faithful to him. He himself was not that light; no, he came to bear witness concerning the light.

This was the true light,
    which gives light to everyone entering the world.

He was in the world — the world came to be through him —
    yet the world did not know him.

He came to his own homeland,
    yet his own people did not receive him.

But to as many as did receive him, to those who put their trust in his person and power, he gave the right to become children of God, not because of bloodline, physical impulse or human intention, but because of God.

The Word became a human being and lived with us,
    and we saw his Sh’khinah,
the Sh’khinah of the Father’s only Son,
    full of grace and truth.

Yochanan witnessed concerning him when he cried out, “This is the man I was talking about when I said, ‘The one coming after me has come to rank ahead of me, because he existed before me.’”

We have all received from his fullness,
    yes, grace upon grace.

For the Torah was given through Moshe;
    grace and truth came through Yeshua the Messiah.

No one has ever seen God; but the only and unique Son, who is identical with God and is at the Father’s side — he has made him known.

John 1:1-18

            When I was a kid, we went spelunking in Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. That is the closest to nothingness I have ever experienced. At one part, the lights that were in the cave and our flashlights were turned out so we could experience complete darkness. It was overwhelming. The absence of light made the darkness feel heavy, like you couldn’t possibly breathe. It was so disorienting. And that wasn’t nothing—it was just the absence of light. When the first flashlight flickered on, feeble as that one light was in the expanse of the cave, it felt like complete relief. Just the smallest bit of light, and everything was right again. You could breathe. You knew which way was up. You felt a weight lift. 

            That cave is a visceral example of what it feels like to find yourself in Christ, the Maker of all things. The darkness that feels alive, like it is swallowing you, just vanishes. It gives way to that spark of the Light of the World breaking in. The darkness hides. 

            The law gave us a path, one we could not follow. It was like trying to find your way through that dark cave. You couldn’t get far without falling on your face and bloodying up your knees. But there was hope, a Savior would come. A Savior did come and brought the light to us. Not to get rid of the path, but to light it up and show us the way. Our guide, our light—made known. 

            This Advent, as we walk in the dark of the season, we do so with Light. We celebrate the Word being made flesh. We wait for the King to return and make all things new. This heaven coming to earth—it is no small thing. It lifted the heaviness, the unbearable darkness, and gives us hope.  

Today’s Song: The Earth Stood Still by Future of Forestry

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“All you who are thirsty, come to the water!
You without money, come, buy, and eat!
Yes, come! Buy wine and milk
without money — it’s free!
Why spend money for what isn’t food,
your wages for what doesn’t satisfy?
Listen carefully to me, and you will eat well,
you will enjoy the fat of the land.
Open your ears, and come to me;
listen well, and you will live —
I will make an everlasting covenant with you,
the grace I assured David.
I have given him as a witness to the peoples,
a leader and lawgiver for the peoples.
You will summon a nation you do not know,
and a nation that doesn’t know you will run to you,
for the sake of Adonai your God,
the Holy One of Isra’el, who will glorify you.”

Seek Adonai while he is available,
call on him while he is still nearby.
Let the wicked person abandon his way
and the evil person his thoughts;
let him return to Adonai,
and he will have mercy on him;
let him return to our God,
for he will freely forgive.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
and your ways are not my ways,” says Adonai.
“As high as the sky is above the earth
are my ways higher than your ways,
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
For just as rain and snow fall from the sky
and do not return there, but water the earth,
causing it to bud and produce,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater;
so is my word that goes out from my mouth —
it will not return to me unfulfilled;
but it will accomplish what I intend,
and cause to succeed what I sent it to do.”

Yes, you will go out with joy,
you will be led forth in peace.
As you come, the mountains and hills
will burst out into song,
and all the trees in the countryside
will clap their hands.
Cypresses will grow in place of thorns,
myrtles will grow instead of briars.
This will bring fame to Adonai
as an eternal, imperishable sign.

Isaiah 55:1-13 (CJB)

            On Christmas morning, my children will receive more stuff than they know what to do with. They’ll be excited, ripping into festively packaged wrappings and seeing what treasures await. They might get a little annoyed to open some jeans (unless they’re over the age of 12), but for the most part, they’ll be bombarded with stuff. And all that wrapping that consumed so much time, effort, and very little talent will be placed promptly into a trash bag having barely received a glance. And all that stuff? In a week, they’ll struggle to name 3 items they received. In a year, they will probably have forgotten everything they received and will definitely not remember who gave it. Next November, we’ll be cleaning out toy bins and closets to remove last year’s stuff so we can replace it with this year’s stuff. What will they remember? Surprisingly, they’ll remember the cookies. They’ll remember the time we spent drinking hot beverages and watching Christmas movies. They may even remember some of the crafts. They’ll remember who spent the holidays with them. They won’t remember the stuff. 

            We all know we can’t buy the affection of children. We know that kids don’t care who bought them the most stuff—at least, not for long. They remember who was there for them, who loved them, and who spent time with them. Stuff doesn’t make a relationship. 

            Retail therapy is a habit many people in our culture deal with—me included. When stressed, what do we do? Browse the online stores… head to Target… We think we can buy our way out of feeling anxious, overwhelmed, or unloved. It never works—yet we don’t stop trying. 

            Why do we waste our money (and energy) on things that cannot satisfy? Why do we try to fill our lives with stuff? Why do we try to replace our relationships with stuff? Apparently, it is part of our bent nature. Amos 8, God tells Israel that he hates their feasts, their assemblies, and their offerings. Why? Didn’t he tell them to do those things? He told them to do those things as part of them understanding their relationship to Him. Without the relationship, what use are the worship songs? Without a relationship, what use is stuff? 

            Jesus, the Light of the World, comes in fulfillment of the covenant. He comes and brings us the joy and the peace we’re searching for. The Lord promised a Messiah, and He came. In Advent, we wait for that coming Messiah again. Because we know it is about Him—only He can really satisfy. Only He can bring what won’t be forgotten, what we can’t buy or earn for ourselves. In the meantime, we spend our time cultivating our relationship with Him and being changed into the kind of people who rejoice at His second coming. We become people of righteousness and justice through Him. And like the trees, we clap our hands and celebrate the coming Messiah. 

Today’s Song: Instead Of A Show by Jon Foreman

The post Untriumphantly: No One Wants Bought Love appeared first on Notes From the Parsonage.

Without delay, Miryam set out and hurried to the town in the hill country of Y’hudah where Z’kharyah lived, entered his house and greeted Elisheva. When Elisheva heard Miryam’s greeting, the baby in her womb stirred. Elisheva was filled with the Ruach HaKodesh and spoke up in a loud voice,

“How blessed are you among women!
And how blessed is the child in your womb!

“But who am I, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For as soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy! Indeed you are blessed, because you have trusted that the promise Adonai has made to you will be fulfilled.”

Luke 1:39-45 (CJB)

            Our culture is completely addicted to the news. There are multiple channels where you can watch news all day, every day. You get on social media, and the news is shared by your friends. We scour Twitter or Parler to see what is going on in the world. No longer do you get the highlight reel for one hour in the evening; now, you can know everything that is going on around the world all the time. Many people find that the news increases their anxiety and decreases their quality of life—yet very few people can turn it off. And… news sites don’t give you the good news; in fact, when a story ends up being not as bad as we initially thought, they usually won’t revisit the story with the positive update. When the death count starts to fall, they focus on the numbers going up. When unemployment starts to drop, they focus on something else. The news treats you like you don’t want good news (probably because you don’t). 

            I love this story in the Bible. Elizabeth (Elisheva) and Mary (Miryam) are having a mother-to-mother moment. If this happened today, they’d pose side-by-side for a bumpie. (I just made up that term—let’s make it a thing.) John leaps in the womb at the sound of Mary’s voice. Elizabeth is filled with the Spirit and knows immediately the impact of this moment. There is Good News! The best news! Mary carries in her the Hope of the World.

            This is a baby announcement you can share! Jesus is coming! Our Hope and our Salvation is not far! Like Mary, trust the promise of God; He always keeps His promises—always. He says all will be made new. He says all who come to Him will be saved. He says you are loved, a cherished child made in His image, and He has made a Way for you. This is Good News! This is the best news. This is news to share! 

            Imagine if we all shared the Good News. Imagine if we focused as much of our time and heart on the Good News as we do on to the news. Imagine how our lives would change, how many brothers and sisters might be rescued, and how much our world would change if we focused on this Good News. Now that you’re done imagining, what can you do to make it so? How can you share this joy with those in your world? 

Today’s Song: Light of the World by Lauren Daigle 

The post Untriumphantly: The Joy of Good News appeared first on Notes From the Parsonage.

But a branch will emerge from the trunk of Yishai,
a shoot will grow from his roots.
The Spirit of Adonai will rest on him,
the Spirit of wisdom and understanding,
the Spirit of counsel and power,
the Spirit of knowledge and fearing Adonai —
he will be inspired by fearing Adonai.
He will not judge by what his eyes see
or decide by what his ears hear,
but he will judge the impoverished justly;
he will decide fairly for the humble of the land.
He will strike the land with a rod from his mouth
and slay the wicked with a breath from his lips.
Justice will be the belt around his waist,
faithfulness the sash around his hips.

The wolf will live with the lamb;
the leopard lie down with the kid;
calf, young lion and fattened lamb together,
with a little child to lead them.
Cow and bear will feed together,
their young will lie down together,
and the lion will eat straw like the ox.
An infant will play on a cobra’s hole,
a toddler put his hand in a viper’s nest.
They will not hurt or destroy
anywhere on my holy mountain,
for the earth will be as full
of the knowledge of Adonai
as water covering the sea.

On that day the root of Yishai,
which stands as a banner for the peoples —
the Goyim will seek him out,
and the place where he rests will be glorious.
On that day Adonai will raise his hand
again, a second time,
to reclaim the remnant of his people who remain
from Ashur, Egypt, Patros,
Ethiopia, ‘Eilam, Shin‘ar,
Hamat and the islands in the sea.
He will hoist a banner for the Goyim,
assemble the dispersed of Isra’el,
and gather the scattered of Y’hudah
from the four corners of the earth.
Efrayim’s jealousy will cease —
those who harass Y’hudah will be cut off,
Efrayim will stop envying Y’hudah,
and Y’hudah will stop provoking Efrayim.
They will swoop down on the flank of the P’lishtim to the west.
Together they will pillage the people to the east —
they will put out their hand over Edom and Mo’av,
and the people of ‘Amon will obey them.
Adonai will dry up the gulf
of the Egyptian Sea.
He will shake his hand over the [Euphrates] River
to bring a scorching wind,
dividing it into seven streams
and enabling people to cross dryshod.
There will be a highway for the remnant of his people
who are still left from Ashur,
just as there was for Isra’el
when he came out from the land of Egypt.

Isaiah 11:1-16 (CJB)

            We live within a world that is looking for happy. We’re looking for the quick fix, the easy way, a happy passing moment. If you were to sit down and make a list of how you could be happy, you’d have no shortage of ideas. And none of them would really work—not for long. Happiness is fleeting. Happiness is an emotion. Joy is a mindset. It is the difference between sadness and depression. Happiness isn’t all there is, and it isn’t all that can be. It isn’t even worth chasing—it passes so quickly, and we’re more likely to find it when we stop chasing it. We’re looking for a shallow emotion when what we really need runs much deeper. 

            The people of Israel were awaiting a Messiah. They were awaiting a coming King who would save them. But what they got wasn’t exactly what they were expecting. They were looking for a king, and they got a baby. They thought that belt of justice would be, well, a little bigger and more menacing to their enemies. They were looking for a solution to their shallow problems, not knowing how deep their problems ran. What they got was deeper. 

            During Advent, we celebrate the first coming of the Messiah and eagerly await His second. I’ll be the first to admit the season is weird. It isn’t just about that manger. It is about a King returning on a white horse. It isn’t just about the Baby born long ago in a manger but about the coming day when a baby can put his hand in a viper’s nest. It is about all things being made new. You and I and this world—we’re all still in the middle of this Advent story. The end hasn’t made itself known yet. We’re still waiting for the deeper, the Act 2. 

            This Advent, don’t waste time searching for happiness. Take the time to invest in the deeper aspects of the season, and in those depths, you’ll find joy. Take the time to prepare yourself, to ask, “Have I lived a life that reflects the Messiah? Have I lived this Advent as if I look forward to all things being made new? Am I letting Him remake me now as I await His return? Am I doing all I can to share the love and joy of Christ with us? Am I being a light in this darkness? Will I be ready when the Son rises?”

Today’s Song: Arrival by Hillsong Worship

The post Untriumphantly: Deeper Than Happy appeared first on Notes From the Parsonage.

I may speak in the tongues of men, even angels;
but if I lack love, I have become merely
blaring brass or a cymbal clanging.

I may have the gift of prophecy,
I may fathom all mysteries, know all things,
have all faith — enough to move mountains;
but if I lack love, I am nothing.

I may give away everything that I own,
I may even hand over my body to be burned;
but if I lack love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient and kind, not jealous, not boastful,
not proud, rude or selfish, not easily angered,
and it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not gloat over other people’s sins
but takes its delight in the truth.
Love always bears up, always trusts,
always hopes, always endures.

Love never ends; but prophecies will pass,
tongues will cease, knowledge will pass.
For our knowledge is partial, and our prophecy partial;
but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass.

When I was a child, I spoke like a child,
thought like a child, argued like a child;
now that I have become a man,
I have finished with childish ways.

For now we see obscurely in a mirror,
but then it will be face to face.
Now I know partly; then I will know fully,
just as God has fully known me.

But for now, three things last —
trust, hope, love;
and the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:1-13 (CJB)

            I know what you’re thinking. Or, I know what I would be thinking if I were you. “This idiot is ending the week of Peace talking about love.” It is intentional, I assure you. Mother Teresa is cited as having said, “If you want to change the world, go home and love your family.” I think that is how peace begins. How do we cultivate peace? Through love. Where is that best expressed? At home. 

            Too often our families get the worst of us. We’re tired, we’re spent, we’ve had enough, and we certainly don’t feel like cultivating peace in our homes right now. As a mom, I often feel like so much hinges on me. The mood of the house is determined by me. The priorities in the house are determined by me. I feel so much pressure to make it all so perfect. (And let’s be honest, I’m not the only person in my house, and the pressure is self-inflicted.) I am often going on such little sleep that I cannot fathom how to encourage peace on earth, much less peace in my own home. The problem is this big, complex whirlwind in my own head. “How can I keep the kids from bickering?” “How can I put something positive out into the social media atmosphere?” “How can I speak peace into the lives of hurting people?” “How can I keep my cool with this obstinate child who wants me to lose it?” It seems so complex, but it is simple: love. 

            I’m in that in-between generation between Gen X and Millennials. I refuse to be called a Millennial because I did not grow up with technology being a constant as they did. I grew up more like a Gen Xer, mostly because of small town life. But I did grow up with that heavy New Age influence that the answers to all life’s problems are in myself (please reject such garbage) and that I’m special. So, I’m a realist (Thanks, Gen X.) who thinks I’m responsible for changing the entire world (Thanks, Millennials.). That pressure gets to me. I feel like I need to change the world, but then I look at the world and think, “Who can change that dumpster fire?” The answer isn’t me. It’s Jesus. And it is only through Jesus that I can be changed with it. 

            Where does that change begin? In my home, loving my family. Flipping the Mother Teresa quote, if I love people, I’ll have no time to judge them. And that starts at home. That starts from the middle and works its way out. If my home lacks love, it is nothing. Love is where it all begins. So, instead of yelling, I’ll get busy loving. I will take delight in the truth and pointing my family toward truth, and I’ll bear them. I’ll bear with them, and I will bear them. As this dark season gets into the busier, more harried parts, I’ll remember that peace on earth begins here. It begins with Jesus loving me and changing me, and me overflowing with His love. 

Today’s song: Lift Up Your Eyes by The Brilliance

The post Untriumphantly: Peace on Earth Begins at Home appeared first on Notes From the Parsonage.

You have enlarged the nation
and increased their joy;
they rejoice in your presence
as if rejoicing at harvest time,
the way men rejoice
when dividing up the spoil.
For the yoke that weighed them down,
the bar across their shoulders,
and their driver’s goad
you have broken as on the day of Midyan[’s defeat].
For all the boots of soldiers marching
and every cloak rolled in blood
is destined for burning,
fuel for the fire.

For a child is born to us,
a son is given to us;
dominion will rest on his shoulders,
and he will be given the name
Pele-Yo‘etz El Gibbor
Avi-‘Ad Sar-Shalom
[Wonder of a Counselor, Mighty God,
Father of Eternity, Prince of Peace],
in order to extend the dominion
and perpetuate the peace
of the throne and kingdom of David,
to secure it and sustain it
through justice and righteousness
henceforth and forever.
The zeal of Adonai-Tzva’ot
will accomplish this.

Adonai sent a word to Ya‘akov,
and it has fallen on Isra’el.

Isaiah 9:2-7 (CJB)

            Advent is the beginning of the liturgical year. I know I’ve already mentioned this fact, but it bears repeating. This dark season of waiting is how we begin the year. I know everyone around us is just counting down the days to the end of this year. But as the Church, we stand and say, “This is the new beginning.” It might seem odd to begin a new year with waiting, but we often begin things with a season of waiting. When we’re getting married, we typically preface that with a season of engagement—the time of waiting to be married. When we’re having a baby, we must first be pregnant for what seems like both the longest and the shortest nine months on the planet. We begin by waiting. When beginning a new job, there is the interview process, which then turns into the days before we begin our new path—a time of waiting. When we begin college, we first apply and decide which college we’ll choose, and there is also a time of waiting before that first class begins. Waiting is a common way for things to begin. 

            Waiting in the dark of December often doesn’t feel like a new beginning. For me, August feels like the beginning of a new year. Those sharp new pencils just scream “new beginning” for me. Dead trees, long nights, sometimes cold temperatures—none of those things says “new” to me. But this is how it is. 

            A seed begins by sleeping. It is just a seed as it waits. It waits to be buried, fall apart completely, and sprout up something new and green. But that seed—that’s the beginning. By the time we see that little plant above the ground, so much work has already been done. 

            In Isaiah, we find this expectant waiting. He knows the Redeemer is coming. He knows God always fulfills His promises. He waits. Something is happening. Something is coming. This waiting is part of the beginning. The Child born so long ago for us—that is the beginning. These days waiting to the second coming—this is also the beginning. Jesus is making something new—not just for Israel, but for me now. Jesus is making me new. As I wait in the darkness, as I fall apart completely, something is growing—something new.

Today’s song: We Three Kings (We Are Not Lost) by Rend Collective

The post Untriumphantly: A New Beginning appeared first on Notes From the Parsonage.

It was at that time that Yeshua said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you concealed these things from the sophisticated and educated and revealed them to ordinary folks. Yes, Father, I thank you that it pleased you to do this.

“My Father has handed over everything to me. Indeed, no one fully knows the Son except the Father, and no one fully knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.

“Come to me, all of you who are struggling and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

One Shabbat during that time, Yeshua was walking through some wheat fields. His talmidim were hungry, so they began picking heads of grain and eating them. On seeing this, the P’rushim said to him, “Look! Your talmidim are violating Shabbat!” But he said to them, “Haven’t you ever read what David did when he and those with him were hungry? He entered the House of God and ate the Bread of the Presence!” — which was prohibited, both to him and to his companions; it is permitted only to the cohanim. “Or haven’t you read in the Torah that on Shabbat the cohanim profane Shabbat and yet are blameless? I tell you, there is in this place something greater than the Temple! If you knew what ‘I want compassion rather than animal-sacrifice’ meant, you would not condemn the innocent. For the Son of Man is Lord of Shabbat!”

Matthew 11:25-12:8 (CJB)

            You won’t find this as part of any productivity lecture. Resting in Jesus isn’t about being your best you. So often, when we talk about Sabbath and rest, we talk about the practical applications and advantages, rather than just looking at it as a command we are to obey. While it is true that you cannot pour from an empty cup, this isn’t about that. And while it is true that all work and no play make Jack a dull boy, this isn’t about that either. This is about resting in Jesus and seeing things how He sees them. 

            I find it profoundly interesting that Jesus is talking about coming to Him and resting and then immediately begins discussing the Sabbath laws. We’ll get to the Sabbath laws in a minute, but I want to first point out that connection. 

            Jesus says to come to Him, take up His cause, and His cross. We read “come to me all you who are weary and I will give you rest” and think more of something like a spa day than what Jesus is really talking about. He says to take on his yoke. Know what a yoke is? Yeah. A harness for animals so they can pull a burden of some sort. Jesus isn’t promising a life of ease as that flobbit in “Lord of the Beans” fondly dreamed of. Jesus is asking us to take up His cause, His burden—to put ourselves willingly into His yoke and pull His burden. That isn’t a spa day. But that is a sort of rest. 

            It is a rest from our overscheduled suburban life. It is a rest from trying to fit everything in and always missing out on the most important, eternal things. As a pastor’s wife, I can assure you that I have heard just about every excuse for missing church that exists. I’m not shaming anyone right now, just giving perspective, so bear with me—this isn’t to guilt you into going to church. “It’s the only day we really have as a family.” “The soccer season ends soon, and we’ll be back in church.” “It is so hard to get up with little kids on Sunday morning.” “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” “It is so hard to sit through church with a wiggling baby.” “It is so hard to sit and listen in church with my child.” “We decided to head out a day early for our vacation.” “Our family scheduled a family reunion that morning. They don’t go to church.” All these excuses are really just that: excuses. It becomes very easy for our excuses to just become our “regular”. As one thing after another vies for our Sunday morning attention, it can be easy to say, “I can talk to Jesus anywhere, anytime. There is nothing special about going to church.” The problem, of course, is that you won’t talk to Jesus anytime, anywhere unless you’re in crisis. You won’t raise a family and establish the habit of “the strong start on Sunday”, to quote Kanye. Soon, our excuses define our lives—not Jesus. You’ve put a yoke on yourself (and your family if you’re a parent or spouse) that isn’t the yoke of Jesus. You’ve taken up causes that aren’t His. And you’ll find yourself heavy. You’ll become burdened. Meeting together with other believers to celebrate our risen Lord each week isn’t just another thing to add to our to-do list. It is a way of ordering life that says, “I’m putting Jesus first.” First day of the week (the day of the Resurrection, not the Sabbath)—I’m putting aside for meeting with God and His people. We’re starting the week strong. We’re taking on Jesus’s yoke. Know what happens when you do that? You can’t get yourself into another yoke. You can’t burden yourself with lesser things. Seek the Kingdom first and you’ll find that your entire direction is toward the Kingdom. You do yourself and your family a great disservice when you let lesser things become first things. That altar of soccer, ease, even family—it isn’t one that will be light or easy. And it isn’t one that will save. That is a path to destruction. I don’t want that for you. Jesus doesn’t want that for you. You don’t want that for those you love. 

            Now, we get to the Sabbath. Jesus tells his disciples to find rest in Him and take up His cause. Then in a turn of the chapter, it flips to Jesus seeming to flick away the Sabbath. What gives? The Sabbath laws were intended to help the people of Israel, but they became a burden to them instead. Why? They didn’t understand the point. God wants mercy from us, not sacrifice. So, in your quest to end busyness, make sure you leave room for rest and mercy. One reason to resist filling your schedule and living a busy life is so you’ll have room for the cause of Jesus, room for other people. You may say, we rest on Saturday. But if a friend calls and needs you to come and have coffee and talk and pray with them, we don’t say, “Sorry, today is my rest day.” We’ve made the room for precisely this thing! This Advent, as you make room for rest, make room for mercy with it. Make room at your table for those who may be alone or struggling this holiday season. Make room to prepare an extra meal to help someone else this season. Take up the Kingdom’s cause this Advent. 

Today’s song: The Hope of Christmas by Matthew West

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In the countryside nearby were some shepherds spending the night in the fields, guarding their flocks, when an angel of Adonai appeared to them, and the Sh’khinah of Adonai shone around them. They were terrified; but the angel said to them, “Don’t be afraid, because I am here announcing to you Good News that will bring great joy to all the people. This very day, in the town of David, there was born for you a Deliverer who is the Messiah, the Lord. Here is how you will know: you will find a baby wrapped in cloth and lying in a feeding trough.” Suddenly, along with the angel was a vast army from heaven praising God:

“In the highest heaven, glory to God!
And on earth, peace among people of good will!”

No sooner had the angels left them and gone back into heaven than the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go over to Beit-Lechem and see this thing that has happened, that Adonai has told us about.” Hurrying off, they came and found Miryam and Yosef, and the baby lying in the feeding trough. Upon seeing this, they made known what they had been told about this child; and all who heard were amazed by what the shepherds said to them. Miryam treasured all these things and kept mulling them over in her heart. Meanwhile, the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for everything they had heard and seen; it had been just as they had been told.

Luke 2:8-20 (CJB)

            Imagine if the story had gone something like this: Some shepherds are finally sitting down after chasing stupid sheep around the fields outside the city all day. They’d finally got the sheep rounded up and settled down when an angel appears out of nowhere and gets the sheep all riled up. Chaos ensues as the shepherds try to keep the stupid sheep from scattering all over the city. They’re pretty angry with this angel who just upset all the work they’d done. The angel tells them to not be afraid—he’s got great news! The shepherds kindly inform the angel of business hours and tell him they’re not interested in his news. Please leave, they insist, so they can resettle their stupid sheep and get some rest. The angel goes away, news untold. 

            Now, imagine Mary, as these dirty weird shepherds show up to ogle her newly-born son. I’m not sure about you, but strangers who just came out of the field aren’t my idea of great guests to have post-birth. In fact, having any guests post-birth kind of sounds horrible to me. But imagine if Mary was like, “Dudes, I don’t know you. I just gave birth. Kindly go away.” Instead, we find her taking a mental picture of what is happening and holding those memories close. She’s treasuring these horrible visitors! 

            We’d all be pretty stunned to read that story. We’d be thinking these shepherds were idiots! An angel appears, and they’re so concerned about some freaked out sheep they won’t listen to what he even has to say. Yet, if we were in this story, wouldn’t that be how we’d react? We don’t do well with being inconvenienced—especially not this time of year. Sure, we want to help others when it can be planned out and fit in, but we don’t want unexpected interruptions to our masterfully-laid plans. You think I’m wrong? How do people act in shopping malls around this time of year? It’s all merry and bright until it comes down to the last X-box on the shelf. Then, our true colors begin to show. We look at the tiny box shaped glimpses into the lives of others through our social media of choice, and we get a little Scroogey on the inside—wondering why our little box is so lacking. (And then we take a picture and post our own little box, filtered and angled perfectly to make others feel that same way.) Why? Because our hearts are bent and twisted, and we miss the point all too often. 

            This Christmas, let’s not let that inner Scrooge win. Let’s choose to be glad. If you think you cannot choose to be glad, I insist you try it. Decide you’ll be glad, and then try to live that out. See what happens. Choose to rejoice. Choose to be happy with what you have. Choose to look around and see that your little box is perfect for this season. The news of salvation was brought not to the house of the king but to shepherds. Shepherds who were willing to be a little inconvenienced for the sake of something bigger than they were. Shepherds who were willing to let their lives be intruded on. Like Mary, let us look at what is around us and treasure it. Let us look at the Charlie Brown tree and make a mental note of that tree. Let’s not spend our holidays comparing and losing. Let’s just be glad. Even if we think the season is broken this year, let’s be glad. Even if we’re just hoping to get past this season so we can say, “Goodbye,” to one of the worst years most of us have known, let’s be glad. Even if we feel put out by others, let’s be glad. 

Today’s song: It’s Christmas! Let’s Be Glad! By Sufjan Stevens

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