GO

But the eleven disciples proceeded to Galilee, to the mountain which Jesus had designated. When they saw Him, they worshiped Him, but some were doubtful. And Jesus came up and spoke to them, saying, "All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age."
(Matthew 28: 16-20)

Epiphany is the day that celebrates the visit of the magi to the Christ Child. It is to remind us of the manifestation of God-in-flesh and the showing forth of the Child to the wider world.

But when I was drawing up the verse selections to add to the original Advent readings (which ended at Christmas), I wanted to look beyound the usual boundaries of the Christmas story. Because it seems to me that we need to remember the bigger purposes God had in this strange story that we have coated over with enamel and jewels and sugar and sentiment.

The Lord came among us in order that we would know Him even better than we (as humans) had. God knows the vast distance that seems to lie between the glory of His majesty and the daily struggles we face, the conditions that are far from glorious, the emptiness that sucks the joy out of our lives. He wants to bridge that gap, and took this step of becoming manifest in Time in order to give us an anchor point for our relationship with HIm.

No longer to we look forward to some vague time when we might be brought to His presence. Instead, He came to us! But not just for that moment in Time, caught and pinned by the census that Caesar Augustus ordered. No, He is with us always.

One of the things I found as I have made my way through these verse selections for this season has been the call to witiness and testify to the glory of God, to praise Him for His promises -- and for how He delivers on those promises. Traveling hand in hand with that has been God taking action in my own life, showing me that the things I have been writing about and meditating upon are not "just spiritual" things, but in fact what He will manifest for us every day, if we just open the door for Him.

The Lord God is very great.

Yet, every day, it is so easy to slide away from just how great He really is. We step out of our doors to take the trash out, and wonder what to do about a pending bill we cannot meet. Fear sneaks into our hearts, as we wonder if we'll be "carried out" like the trash because we cannot find a way to address our obligations. We sit down and something someone nearby says about their relationships sets us to thinking of all the damaged or toxic relationships in our own lives, leaving us grieving and bleeding because we don't know how to recover from cuts given by those closest to us. The doctor tells us our body is crashing in on itself and we wonder how we'll be able to deal with it, alone and with limited funds to pay for the care we need. On every side challenges are manifested, touchable, pressing in on us, and we start feeling that the Lord stands outside that circle of impending disasters, just out of reach, intangible in so many ways. In our distress with the here and now we forget Who made those promises, Who has delivered on them in the past and will do so again, Who it was that came and lived as one of us.

It was the Creator of the Universe, our God who holds the very fabric of existence in His hands, That's who made those promises.

Jesus was and is the Lord made manifest to us, and all authority in heaven and on earth rests in Him. If we abide in HIm, if we wait upon Him, if we endure in Him, that glory wraps around us. Seek out a picture of the vastness of galaxies, drink in that image, think of how vast that mere segment of the whole of the universe is, and then remember that in all that, God also concerns Himself with the smallest sub-atomic particle in your being. He has pulled us close, sheltering us. He has sought us out, come hunting for us, fought off the predators. Yet we get like the myopic sheep, relying too much on our weakest sense. We cannot see clearly, and what we think we see frightens us so much we keep pushing forward out of fear. Stop. Listen for His voice. Let Him bring us back to His protection.

God doesn't expect us to do everything. That's the wonder of this relationship. In one part of our minds, we hear the charge to "Go and make disciples," and we think we have to get our act into order. That the only way we can show the glory of the Lord is by way of "being perfect." But that isn't what the Lord expects from us. He just expects us to speak of what we have seen. "Write what you have seen." Praise the Lord for the little things He has done.

The glory of God shines brightest when we stop trying to be perfect on our own. To make disciples of others, we need only show them how much we ourselves need the Lord. We need only testify to the daily small ways He meets us in our own lives. The glory of God travels with us, and each little drop that falls from our own lives into the lives of others opens the way for them. For those around us who are sitting in "great darkness," even the smallest bit of light from us shines greatly. If we carry that to others, God Himself will make so much more of it in them.

Go. Praise the Lord. Write of what you have seen. For your eyes have seen the Salvation of the Lord. You have witnessed this, tell it to the others around you so they will know what the Lord has done.

IT'S NOT A SECRET
Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking with me. And having turned I saw seven golden lampstands, and in the middle of the lampstands I saw one like a son of man, clothed in a robe reaching to the feet, and girded across His chest with a golden sash. His head and His hair were white like white wool, like snow; and His eyes were like a flame of fire. His feet were like burnished bronze, when it has been made to glow in a furnace, and His voice was like the sound of many waters. In His right hand He held seven stars, and out of His mouth came a sharp two-edged sword, and His face was like the sun shining in its strength.

When I saw Him, I fell at His feet like a dead man. And He placed His right hand on me, saying, "Do not be afraid; I am the first and the last, and the living One; and I was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of death and of Hades. Therefore write the things which you have seen, and the things which are, and the things which will take place after these things."
(Revelation 1: 12-19)

"Write the things which you have seen."

Very few of us are given a direct vision of the Christ standing in Heaven. So we're not going to run out and talk of the Being Made of Light, at least not as something we'd give witness testimony about. But I think there's more to the commandment than Christ telling John to write about his vision.

On every side these days, society pushes for people to be more discrete about their faith. The thinking seems to be that if people "don't go public" with their faith, those around them will not be disquieted or made uncomfortable. We've somehow reached a place where being comfortable is equated with being at peace.

This man we speak of began his life in a stable and spent His ministry walking back and forth across His country without a settled home, I don't think He was particularly concerned with what is "comfortable." Oh, He certainly did believe in the kind of comfort that is consolation, the soothing of the raw emotions of loss, grief, hurt. But He didn't seem particularly interested in whether or not we were "comfortable" in the sense of being settled easily. In fact, he seemed best pleased with unsettling the people He met.

I don't know about you, but I would be greatly unsettled to encounter the one John describes in Revelation -- One standing in the midst of light, who had such brightness around him that His face and hair seemed white, whose feet glowed like molten metal, who held stars in one hand. Such a one can speak with a high degree of authority. And this Person charges John to write of what he sees.

We're not told to be silent about the things we witness, particularly not as believers. Instead, we are told to proclaim the glory of God, to praise Him. Why would we even think that we should refrain from speaking of what we have seen God do in our lives? When we try to dismiss the incredible, as Zacharias did, we might be stricken silent. But that was in order to impell him to his declarations -- because he wouldn't accept the news, and instead made a joke of it, he had to be silent once the news was confirmed, silent for a long stretch until the baby was delivered. But once he could talk again, the first things out of his mouth were praise for the actions of the Lord. When the shepherds were told by angels of the Christ's birth, they immediately ran to see the wonderful Child and then as they returned to their jobs, they told everyone they met of the event. They could not keep silent.

Why would we keep silent when the Lord meets us in small ways every day? Because for many of us, those small encounters are far more important that a dream-vision of Heaven. The small encounters that allow us to pay a looming bill, that help us deal with an immediate injury, that change a flat tire on our car; these things are important to us. The gentle touch of a hand when we've been wracked with loneliness, the soft voice speaking just to us when we haven't been spoken to in days, the unexpected gift from a friend when we've been struggling with something. Are these not so wonderful to us that we just can't keep quiet about them?

And yet we do.

We don't speak of these small shining glimpses of Heaven. Instead, we speak of the dark clouds that sit on us, the tangling vines that keep us from moving, the sticky mud that slows us down. We let our obstacles become more important than our destination. I'm as guilty of doing that as much as the next person. It's so easy to talk about what is right in my face - bills to be paid, jobs to be hunted, things that can't be done because I don't have the means right now, food I don't have, companions I'm without, pleasures denied.

Why do we do that? We don't really get any pleasure out of complaining, nor does it give joy to anyone around us. Why do we choose to testify to the unglorious things that happen?

The Shining One of God has come and dwelt among us. He has met us where we are. His coming was promised, and He did indeed come. He seeks us out and He finds us, no matter how far we stray from the flock. He shelters us, even in our most humble circumstances.

"Write of what you have seen."

Here are my drops of glory this moring, these little splashes of God's presence --

I had a friend spot me some funds for a pleasing dinner last night. I was hungry and didn't have much at hand, and he blessed me, and not out of pity, but out of respect and affection.

The sun is shining outside right now, and the weather is amazingly mild and warm for the season - something the hand of no human could accomplish.

I have before me at my desk two photographs. On one side, a photograph of my parents that I took on a lovely day, my favorite picture of them. They are relaxed and joyful, and the memory of that particular day shines bright in it. On the other side, a picture of a delightful couple that are as dear to me as my parents, a couple that moved beyond being professional mentors and inspiration.

Near at hand is a small book written by a friend, telling of many obstacles he has overcome, pages shining with encouragement and persistence.

These are the small gifts from the Lord, the immediate things. These are the things of Heaven that I have seen. If I can speak of these, I can speak of the bigger things too. Of the assurance that the Lord is with me no matter what. Oh, there've been times when I would have rather not traveled with that knowledge, when I was feeling resentful that I wasn't getting what "I wanted." But even then, knowing I could not out-run the Lord gave a sense of shelter.

The world is uncertain around us. The next instant could bring wind, fire, earthquake, sickness, loss, disaster. But no matter what, the Lord stands with me. I abide in Him, and His glory is around me. All I need do is open my eyes and let myself truly see.

I have seen the salvation of the Lord, and His love is beyond measure. And it waits for everyone.

What have you seen?

MY EYES HAVE SEEN

And there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; and this man was righteous and devout, looking for the consolation of Israel; and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Christ. And he came in the Spirit into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to carry out for Him the custom of the Law, then he took Him into his arms, and blessed God, and said,

"Now Lord, You are releasing Your bond-servant to depart in peace,
According to Your word;
For my eyes have seen Your salvation,
Which You have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
A Light of revelation to the Gentiles,
And the glory of Your people Israel."

And His father and mother were amazed at the things which were being said about Him.
And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary His mother, "Behold, this Child is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed -- and a sword will pierce even your own soul -- to the end that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed."
(Luke 2: 25-35)

Simeon had been told by the Holy Spirit that he would not die until he had seen the Messiah. Because of this, and his comment about now being released to "depart in peace," he is traditionally considered to be an old man when he met the Holy Family at the temple. He had been waiting a long, long time for the coming of the Promised One.

We spend the season of Advent preparing for the coming of the Messiah. Once we are out of the season and past Christmas, we often settle our lives back into a daily pattern of doing our jobs, taking care of our loved ones, struggling with the challenges in front of us. We don't keep thinking about Christ coming to us. We go back to thinking about His being "with us" and accept it as part of the background of our lives.

But Simeon seems to have spent much of his adult life waiting and looking, expecting something remarkable. He had been promised the Christ, not just as a participant in the general promise to the People, but as someone who had an individual promise made specifically to him. He would see the Lord's Christ.

This is the wonder of God: He makes big general promises to His people, but they also apply to specific individuals. We have been promised that Christ is with us, as a people and as individuals. We have been promised that the Lord has planned good things for us, that He will provide for us, that we are partakers in His glory.

We face a new year, and we like to make dividing lines between the things that were and the things that have not yet come. We stand on this threshold, and we want to believe that what lies ahead are indeed good things, especially if what we've just been through has been challenging and stressful. I'm certainly feeling that way. Last year was the least comfortable year I've had, in so many ways. Oh, there were good things in it, to be sure. But much of it made me feel I was caught between two very rough stones, being squeezed and ground down.

The challenges don't really go away. Sometimes aspects of our circumstances keep stretching onward - financial challenges, repairs to our home environment that are needed but we don't have the means to address at present, relationships that are difficult but cannot be avoided, work that needs to be done. It's not easy to let go of our anxiety about these things, giving them to the Lord and trusting Him to provide for these matters. The imagery of the Good Shepherd is comforting. But our brains tell us that we don't live on metaphors. The world around us expects bills to be paid, jobs to be done. We sit and wonder, where is the Lord's Salvation for those things? How can we see it?

Did Simeon know that he was waiting to see a baby, I wonder? If he had waited many years to see the Promised One, I would imagine that he had spent a lot of time studying everything that spoke of the Promised One. And some of them mention a child to be born. So maybe he did know that a child would be involved. But maybe he looked to see an adult. I think all he knew for certain was that the Holy Spirit had promised he would see the Christ. He seems not to have worried about the details, but rather to have entirely trusted the promptings of the Holy Spirit (which is why, I suspect, he was given this particular promise in the first place). The Holy Spirit had prompted him to be at the temple at that time, on that day. And he knew the face of his Messiah when he saw it, even though it was a baby.

"My eyes have seen your salvation."

What have my eyes seen?

I have seen people prompted to give me assistance in my need, and I know the Lord's hand has been in that. I have seen the Lord moving people in advance of danger, and though they lost nearly everything in their home, they themselves were all safe from harm. I have seen the Lord provide a new home to a couple, one their hearts had been set on and which seemed to fall away from their grasp. And I have seen others waiting for the salvation of their worldly circumstances and challenges. I am waiting too.

But I ask myself, on this eve of Epiphany, am I really waiting to see the face of the Lord? Or am I just waiting to see some fiscal providence? I want to think that I am waiting on the Lord.

I have seen the hand of the Lord touching lives in varioius ways. I have to believe that He won't stop now. He is the Good Shepherd, and He is on the job.

THE PURPOSE OF ENDURING

Therefore if you have been raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth. For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is our life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with Him in glory.
(Colossians 3: 1-4)

Abide. Endure. We are partakers of the promise of the Christ, of the Good Shepherds. That is the reason for perseverance in our commitment to the Lord.

We launch ourselves into a new calendar year, using the date as a dividing point between what was and what we want to do and achieve. We hope for better things to come in our daily lives. And we think less and less about what Christmas was about. We pick up the wrapping paper of the gifts we've received and put the trash out. We take down the holiday decorations. We remember fondly the parties and fellowship we had during the holiday season, but we get ready to buckle down to work in the new year.

But for believers, the real dividing point should always be the coming of Christ into our lives. Every day is always a new day. Our "old life" wasn't what was "last year", it was "before Christ came."

Remember, we are called into the celebrations of Christ in His kingdom. We are given the witness of the angels of God, and told we can come see the face of the Christ, God made manifest in flesh and blood. We are assured that we will be watched over, protected, led in safe places. We have been told that the very Creator of the Universe abides within us - and with that in us, we are asked to endure, to wait upon the movement of the Lord.

The glory of our lives is that we are to be found in the glory of the Lord. As Christ stands in Heaven, we stand in Him.

What does that mean in our daily lives, though? I mean, it's a pretty picture for some vague time in the future when Judgment Day falls upon us. But what does that mean this morning, this day, as I settle back into the mundane pursuits of doing what is in front of me to do, the small jobs, the hunting for gainful employment?

I think it is far too easy for us to think of "God business" as being "out there" or in a "time to come." But as I look back over all these readings from the beginning of Advent through today, what I see is something far more immediate. Christ is about the here and now. Jesus wasn't talking about vague futures, He was talking about this very hour, this very minute, this very second.

If Christ abides in us each and every moment, then we bring the glory of God with us to every thing we do. When we take the trash out, God comes with us. When we try to nose our way onto the packed freeway at rush hour, Christ is with us. When we move among the people of the world, we bring Jesus with us.

Do we remember that the glory of God sits upon us? If we can't even remember that Christ abides in us in order to give ourselves reassurance, how can we show Christ to others?

Are we like Zacharias when the angel told him the news of his coming child? Do we laugh at the idea that we would be that significant to God? Oh, for ourselves we do want to be that important, because it means that we get invited in to God's party. But do we consider that there's more to God's purpose than that? Do we consider that we might be like the Bethlehem shepherds, that we should be telling everyone we meet about the wonderful things we have seen?

Do we let others see the glory of God on our faces? Or do we hide from the world the fact that we abide in the Lord? Do we cover up God's presence?

I admit that I don't always think of that. Even when in the ordinary course of events I try to behave "as I ought to" as a believer, I don't think about the possibility that my face and my voice might be the only visible thing of God that the people I encounter might see. That's a lot of responsibility. But ... it's also an intriguing idea. God comes with me everywhere, not just for me. If I abide in HIm... what do others see?

THE TREASURE INSIDE

As for you, let that abide in you which you heard from the beginning. If what you heard from the beginning abides in you, you also will abide in the Son and in the Father. This is the promise which He Himself made to us: eternal life.

These things I have written to you concerning those who are trying to decieve you. As for you, the anointing which you received from Him abides in you, and you have no need for anyone to teach you, but as His anointing teaches you about all things, and is true and is not a lie, and just as it has taught you, you abide in Him.
(1 John 2: 24-27)

John reminds the faithful of an important aspect of the teaching of Jesus: that it abides in us, and because of that we abide in the Father and in the Son.

The promises of the Lord are not somewhere "out there" but are always within us. Even when we listen to the world around us, when it tries to rattle us and deceive us, God's Word is written inside our hearts.

All of these days of Advent, preparing for the coming of the Lord, we have been reminded of God's promises. The Lord is with us, the Lord watches over us, the Lord remembers us and brings us into His own celebrations and kingdom. Whether we are safely with the flock in the fold or a lost sheep strayed into rough territory and tangling briars, our Shepherd watches over us. When we are with the flock, He keeps us in secure places. When we are lost, He comes seeking us, to rescue us wherever we are - even when we let fear drive us further and further away from the safety of the fold. His promises are written in the very fabric of creation, beyond the power of any worldly authority to eliminate them or obscure them. He moves in advance of those who would harm us, keeping us from utter destruction. For those who believe, we shall see the very face of God.

John was well aware of how our daily lives, our daily struggles, can cause us to forget these things. He knew that it is in our nature to start thinking of these promises as being outside ourselves, and he wanted to "cut that off at the pass." He wanted to remind the faithful that all these things that we have learned "from the beginning" abide in us. And because they are in us, we are in God.

"Abide."

It's a word we don't use a lot outside "church language" and poetry. It's from a German root meaning "to wait", from Latin origins meaning "trust" and Greek "to believe." "Abide" itself in English means to wait for something, to endure without yielding, to withstand. To bear patiently, to remain stable or fixed in a state. Abide.

James said that trials come to us in order to build our endurance. John reminds us to endure in what we have learned. God weaves all these things together, back and forth, taking the single strands of our lives and making strong fabric from them.

How easy it is to let the promises slide out of the forefront of our minds. How easy it is to let anxieties nibble away at our assurance that the Lord watches out for us - after all, broken-down cars, shrivelled bank accounts, empty cupboards, these things are immediate to us, right in front of our eyes. We forget that the Word of the Lord abides within us, the Word that was in the beginning of Creation, present with God.

John must have seen those anxieties weighing down on believers in the community. He must have seen them getting rattled and shaken in their faith. He really wants to remind them of what they have become a part of, because he repeats it in this passage. The Word is in you, the Lord is in you, the Word of the Lord is in you, and because it is rooted in you, you are likewise rooted in the Lord, inside the very being of God the Father and His Son.

Do not let your faith be shaken, for not only is the treasure of the Word inside you, but you are the treasure inside the Lord. You are deep in the heart of God. How can you think that He would not protect that? How can you think He would forget what is in His very heart? How can you think that He would lose that?

Abide in the Word. Hold on, stand fast, endure in the Word of the Lord, and God Himself, the Word that was from the beginning will abide in you.

Abide

THE INCURABLE OPTIMIST

The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters.
He restores my soul;
He guides me in the paths of righteousness
For His name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You have annointed my head with oil;
My cup overflows.
Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life,
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
(Psalm 23)

Years ago, when I was in graduate school, I hit a low time. I ran out of money. I had finished my course work for my Master's degree, but had not yet finished my thesis. I'd been making the rounds at the university, applying for every position I could possibly do (I had a college wardrobe, which limited the options outside that arena - "dressing for work" being even more restrictive back then). I rode the bus into campus (there was a free shuttle between the student apartments and the campus), and on the ride every day I recited the 23rd Psalm to myself. Several times a ride, in fact. Yet, nothing seemed to happen, not job came through.

I came to the conclusion that David had been an incurable optimist.

When I was growing up, Saturday mornings were house-cleaning time. One of my chores was dusting bookshelves. In one bookcase we had a number of small knick-knacks, items my parents had gathered or that had come from the household of my great-aunts. One of these items was a shell the size of a child's fist, and on it was carved the 23rd Psalm. Inevitably, as I dusted the shelf and the items on it, I would read the Psalm. So it was very ingrained in my mind.

In those days on the shuttle bus I wondered where my green pastures were, where the still waters were. Nevermind the table before me in the presence of my enemies. Goodness and mercy did not seem to be following me. They must have fallen behind on the pathway somewhere, because they didn't seem to be anywhere in sight.

I've thought about those days quite a lot in the last few months, because I seemed to be going through the same territory once more. Haven't I done this once already, Lord? Don't I already know these lessons?

There is a big difference though. That time, back then, was the first time I faced the challenge of totally relying on the Good Shepherd to watch out for me and provide for me. Before that time, while I was growing up, I relied on my parents. But in graduate school, I was "out on my own."

But God came through.

The last working day of the month, I got a call from the main library on campus, with the offer of a clerical job. I could take the orientation session on Monday and start that very day. The orientation part was rather important, because you had to take it to get into the pay schedule. And the university paid only once a month. If I had not taken it that day, at the end of that month, I wouldn't have been paid (it would have rolled over into the next period). On top of that, my younger sister visited, and she paid my immediate rent. At the very last minute (from my point of view), God stepped in and did take care of everything.

So during this time of recent trouble (which isn't really over yet, though it has been eased), I could never quite get lost in utter despair. I had seen before that the Shepherd was indeed good.

I still think David the Psalmist was an incurable optimist.

But that is the challenge of following the Lord. How boldly David declares his faith! Not only will the Shepherd watch out and provide for him, with the basic good things that keep a sheep healthy (good pasture and still water), but His protection is at hand. The rod was used to drive off the predators, while the staff with its crook was used to keep the sheep on the path, even to rescue those that had stumbled away, lifting them back to safe ground even when they'd fallen "out of reach." Those were the things that David knew from his daily work. But he declares that God does not stop there! God spreads a feast for him in front of enemies; God anoints him; God fills his cup to overflowing. Always going beyond our expectations. As with the criminal on the cross, who only asked to be remembered, God "goes overboard" -- and promises we will be at the heart of the party, celebrating right with Him.

God has filled my cup before, and what I drank from that cup ... it does not really dissolve and disappear. It's an infection that has stayed. Incurable optimism.

I'm not particularly fond of walking through the valley of the shadow of death. It is dark and grim, empty and filled with loneliness. And it does rattle me. I'm perhaps not as secure as the psalmist, for I do fear it a little bit. But I stick to the path, and trust in the Lord's rod and staff. They are a comfort, when I remember them.

I may still be waiting on that feast, on the anointing, on that overflowing cup. But I do know beyond a doubt that the goodness and lovingkindness of the Lord walk with me all the days of my life. I know where my Home is.

THE PROMISE FROM THE SHEPHERD

For thus says the Lord God, "Behold, I Myself will search for My sheep and seek them out. As a shepherd cares for his herd in the day when he is among his scattered sheep, so I will care for My sheep and will deliver them from all the places to which they were scattered on a cloudy and gloomy day. I will bring them out from the peoples and gather them from the countries and bring them to their own land; and I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, by the streams, and in all the inhabited places of the land. I will feed them in a good pasture, and their grazing ground will be on the mountain heights of Israel. There they will lie down on good grazing ground and feed in rich pasture on the mountains of Israel. I will feed My flock and I will lead them to rest," declares the Lord God. "I will seek the lost, bring back the scattered, bind up the broken and strengthen the sick; but the fat and strong I will destroy. I will feed them with judgment."
(Ezekiel 34: 11-16)

We have seen many passages where the writer compares the Lord to a shepherd. To a pastoral culture, it was a ready and familiar comparison. In this passage from Ezekiel, we find that the Lord Himself chooses this comparison. From the days of the offerings of Cain and Abel to now, the shepherd and the flock have been a favored image to our God. Not that other activites have been disrespected. It is just that something about that work of a shepherd greatly touches the heart of God.

Here we find all the promises of good care from the Shepherd, that He will lead His flock to good pastures. But there is more than that. The Lord God promises that He will seek out His scattered sheep, no matter the circimstances. I particularly like the mention that He will seek the lost even when scattered on cloudy and gloomy days.

Here is the purpose of Christmas from God's side of the event: He wants to seek us out, to find us wherever we have wandered, no matter what darkness and gloom our scattering behavior has taken us into. At just those points when we are wailing that we have been forsaken, the Lord is heading toward us, intent on bringing us back to safety and to plenty.

If God is coming after us, why then do our times of trials seem to go on so long? James reminded us that trials serve to build our endurance, and that's "nice". But if God seeks us, why does it "take so long"?

We are sheep. Near-sighted, easily alarmed, stubborn creatures. If we wander off, we seem certain we can find our own way. I wonder ... when we find ourselves in barren territory or tangled in briars, do we stop moving and wait for the shepherd? Or do we try to push on, sure we can find our way back to the safe pastures on our own, even though we cannot see the bluffs that drop away on one side or the turbulent water that can drown us on another. Perhaps it is our own tendency to try and keep moving that stretches out the time it takes the Lord to reach us.

Until we are ready to be found, can we be found, even when the seeker is the Lord God Himself?

Very little children love the game of peek-a-boo. For a brief time as they grow, they place an amazing belief in the power of seeing: they believe that if they cannot see you, you aren't there; if they cannot see you, you cannot see them. As adults, we play along with this, because the simple delight of the child when he or she sees the face of the adult delights us in turn.

Sometimes we treat God that way: if we don't look at Him, He won't see us and we won't see Him. We can laugh with delight when we choose to turn to Him.

But we are stubborn. And sometimes we push on by ourselves.

Yet, all the while, the Divine Shepherd is seeking us. Not to punish us, but rather to rescue us and bring us back to all the good things we need for life. He finds the lost, the broken, and the sick, and will restore them.

To me, I think that is another reason for us to not attack those who hate believers and would destroy those who follow the Lord: since God seeks those who are lost and scattered, do we know who they are? When we look around us, and see other people scrambling, is our spiritual eyesight good enough to know whether it is a lost sheep or a mountain lion? Better if we leave that to the Shepherd.

Of course, there is the warning in the end of the passage: that the Lord will destroy the fat and sassy who linger in the midst of the flock.

It is interesting to me to realize that the Lord has expectations of us. Not that we simply follow Him and trust Him. He wants to provide us with everything we need for a healthy, secure life, but He has no interest in seeing us become so glutted on that life that we waddle along weighed down with fat.

On every side, we are reminded that our God is pro-active. He watches over us, protects us, provides for us. He seeks us, even when we are lost in our own wandering. He does not stop. (Humorous side thought: in the film The Terminator, Reese tells Sarah Connor that the Terminator will not stop in his quest for her. The word "terminator" led my mind to "Alpha and Omega" - "omega" being the last letter of the Greek alphabit, the end, the termination. Our God is like the Terminator, hunting and seeking. The big difference, the important difference, is that the Lord does not want to destroy us, but rather return us to the safety of the well-tended flock.)

The Lord will always seek us, whether we are looking at Him or not.

TRIUMPH BEYOND TRIALS

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him. But he must ask in faith without any doubting, for the one who doubts is like the surf of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind. For that man ought not to expect that he will receive anthing from the Lord, being a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways. But the brother of humble circumstances is to glory in his high position, and the rich man is to glory in his humiliation, because like flowering grass he will pass away. For the sun rises with a scorching wind and withers the grass; and its flower falls off and the beauty of its appearance is destroyed; so too the rich man in the midst of his pursuits will fade away. Blessed is a man who perseveres under trial; for once he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him.
(James 1: 2-12)

When I began writing the meditations at the beginning of Advent, I was feeling that I was in the midst of very great trials. I really needed God's intervention in my circumstances. And one of the things that really pulled at me, challenging me, was the beginning of this passage: "Count it all joy." I was certainly not feeling particularly joyful at facing Christmas in so much need. Yet everything and everyone around me told me to hold on and trust the Lord.

Simple endurance. But more than that is needed. James says that we must "ask in faith without any doubting."

I admit that at the beginning of Advent, holding onto complete faith and expelling all doubt was very difficult. And as a result, each day brought a great ebb and flow to my emotions - very, very low when I let myself fall into worrying about what would come next, followed by a quiet peace when I would put anxiety out of my mind. But each day brought that same rolling of the "surf" and tossing from the "wind," until I stopped and let go of all doubt. There came a day when there was absolutely nothing more I could do on my own, when I finally admitted that I would have to rely entirely on God.

Just as James had said, so long as I was doubting, I could not fully receive what God had to give. Oh, I had been given help prior to that point, for God's providence to those who love Him will not fail. But my hands had been clutched closed because I was so afraid of losing what I had.

I know that some read these words of James about the fate of the rich man and think he is condemning the wealthy. But I don't think that is what he means to convey. I think James wants to remind believers that all circumstances in this world are temporary, whether poor or rich. When circumstances change in either direction, James challenges us to give glory to God. Which ever way we move, we need to remain focused on the Lord.

James says we are blessed when we persevere under trial. It certainly doesn't feel like a blessing when we are going through the experience. It feels like we have been abandoned, forsaken. I began Advent with Psalm 22, the deeply heartfelt cry of a forsaken believer. Or rather, someone who felt forsaken. But once again, there is that warning from James not to give in to our feelings, which spring from doubt. Even the psalmist moves away from his "poor me" wailing and praises the Lord for His faithfulness to His people.

Troubles and difficulties tend to isolate us from the people around us. Or rather, we let them isolate us. Our distress makes us back away from others, because we don't want to spill that bitter stuff on other people. We feel we need to endure these things all by ourselves. Ah, those feelings again!

Joy is something that lets others come close to us again. Joy is a choice, not a feeling. We can find joy again, when we chose to praise God for His majesty, no matter what is happening to us at a particular moment.

Joy opens our hands, allowing us to receive the great bounty that the Lord wants to give to us.

If we remember that as believers we have already "been approved" perhaps we would do a better job of chosing joy. But when we are in the midst of trials, even that isn't easy to remember, because we get caught in the idea that we need to earn that approval. When we find ourselves stumbling over that, we need to go simpler and remember that we are the sheep in the flock of a Good Shepherd. He watches out for the dangers we cannot see. When we have to go past rushing, troubled waters, when the lion and bear try to get at us, the Shepherd deals with those threats. We may tremble in fear, but if we trust the Shepherd and stay put, instead of running away, we will find that He is trustworthy. If we endure this moment, we will come through to His blessings.

A PRO-ACTIVE LORD
Now Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest, and asked for letters from him to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any belonging to the Way, both men and women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. As he was traveling, it happened that he was approaching Damascus, and suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him, and he fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him; "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me/"

And he said, "Who are You, Lord?" And He said, "I am Jesus whom you are persecuting, but get up and enter the city, and it will be told you what you must do."

The men who traveled with him stood speechless, hearing the voice but seeing no one.

Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; and leading him by the hand, they brought him into Damascus. And he was three days without sight, and neither ate nor drank. (Acts 9: 1-9)

Like Herod, the young Pharisee Saul was really intent on resisting the Lord. He was so focused on getting rid of every trace of Jesus that he was tracking down disciples all the way to Damascus. He worked very hard at this hunt.

But remember, we're talking about the Creator of the Universe here. We're talking about a God so deeply engaged with our lives that He became one of us, walked among us. We're talking about a God who moved magi in a far land to seek the Infant Christ, a God who impelled Joseph to flee before Herod's destruction swept down upon the Child.

I see a parallel here between Herod and Saul, which is why I brought this reading into the Christmas story. I think we really need to remember this side of God's involvement in our world. He takes a pro-active interest is what goes on. This is the Lord we've been looking toward, the Lord whose coming we prepared for during Advent, the Lord who became one of us.

What happened to Saul gives us another way of looking at those who resist the Lord, who mock and persecute the believers. And I think it shows us that we need to rethink our reactions when our faith is attacked.

At one point, Jesus said "Seek and you shall find." And that is exactly what happened to Saul. He was so intent on his pursuit of Jesus and His followers, that he found what he was seeking. Of course, what he found was not what he expected. But isn't that what usually happens when the Lord becomes involved?

When we as believers stand in the midst of hostile company, do we remember moments like this? Do we remember that God led Joseph and Mary and the Baby to safety from the hunters of Herod? Do we remember that Jesus met Saul (who was out to capture and murder believers) on the road to Damascus, knocking him flat on his rear? I think we instead remember that Herod's troops slaughtered innocent children in Bethlehem, and that Saul witnessed the stoning of Stephen. We think of those children and Stephen, and we wonder if that's the role assigned for us.

God only knows that.

But I think we would be wiser to remember the Bigger Picture. God is not stand-offish. He is eager to be engaged in our stories, our lives. He is right there with us, and even ready to stand on the path between us and those who would harm us.

Here is the balancing point of being a believer: on the one hand we have a God who shepeherds us, watches over us, even to the point of becoming one of us, and we are called to witness and testify to His actions in our lives; on the other hand the world around us is hostile toward that testimony, possibly even to the point of wanting to erase us from existence. The very thing we are most called to do - proclaim the glory of God - is the very thing that could get us killed.

I have joyful news for you! Christ the Lord is born! Go tell it on the mountain! Tell it everywhere! Oh, and remember that you will be persecuted for the sake of the name of the Lord.

But we are not sent out into that hostile, cold world without support. God is with us. When our persecutors are on the road to reach us, Jesus meets them on the way. We may not see it happen. The believers in Damascus weren't there to see it, but it happened. We need to trust the Lord to deal with those who are "after us." Yes, it is terrible when believers are persecuted, and we should not stand silent when it happens. But when we break our silence, it should not be to proclaim that we should be exempt from persecution, but rather that whatever happens to us, the Lord is engaged in our lives, in the world around us, even to the degree of having His hands upon the lives of those who would destroy us.

We are the sheep of His flock. It is our shepherd's job to deal with the threats to the flock. And He is on the job.

RESISTING THE LORD

Now when they [the magi] had gone, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up! Take the Child and His mother and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is going to search for the Child to destroy Him." So Joseph got up and took the Child and His mother while it was still night, and left for Egypt. He remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: "Out of Egypt I called My Son."

Then when Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he became very enraged, and sent and slew all the male children who were in Bethlehem and all its vicinity, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had determined from the magi.
(Matthew 2: 13-16)

One of the consequences of the intersection of spiritual matters and worldly matters is the reaction of those who have no interest in spiritual things. Those who can only see worldly matters believe that the only "actors" in events are worldly ones and the only motives and purposes are also worldly.

Even though the magi had told Herod they had followed heavenly signs, even though the scholars he consulted were telling him the words of God's prophets, Herod only heard the words "child born King of the Jews." For Herod, there was only one interpretation for that, the worldly one. And as far as he could tell, this child was a threat to him. Or at least, that's the way Herod looked at it. So, he decided to do something about this threat. Eliminate it early and he won't have to deal with it later.

Of course, Herod was not seeing the whole picture. He was discounting any spiritual aspect to events, nevermind Someone active on that level of things.

As believers, we need to remember that this goes on around us. We share the world with people who cannot see God's signs around them, not even when someone speaks about those signs rather dramatically - like foreign magi showing up at court asking about a prophesied child because of a star in the sky. Believers live in the midst of people who not only do not think there is a God who intervenes in events, they don't think there is a God at all.

It's a little bit upsetting for believers to have what to them is a major part of their lives discounted by the worldy and mockers. We are human enough to want to argue, to defend, to protest that God indeed does interact with our lives. After all, aren't we called to testify about what God does for us? Isn't that what praise is about?

Well, no. Praise is what we give to God. Worship is the interaction between ourselves and the Lord. These things are not intended to be spectacles for an outside audience or demonstrations of proof. Praise and worship only have meaning to those who are engaged in the relationship.

Our testimony to outsiders is about what God has done for us. We don't have to pay any attention to non-believers say about our praise and worship.

But beyond that, this story of the Holy Family flleeing Herod's actions shows another thing: that God watches out for us, that He moves us well ahead of impending distruction. As believers our lives are both spiritual and worldly, and the Prime Mover of all things is spiritual. We know this. If we trust God at all, we need to trust that He will also move us away from what could destroy us.

I'm sure that Joseph and Mary thought the order to move to Egypt, and to go immediately, was just about the worst thing to happen to them. It meant that Joseph was leaving behind his home and work in Nazareth. It meant that Mary, who had just given birth would now have to face a journey at least twice as far as a Bethlehem to Nazareth transit, if not three times as far. It was going to be a hard journey, for which they were not prepared. But the angel of the Lord told Joseph to go immediately, and they went, without question they went.

Herod's troops swept down on the Bethlehem region and killed all male children two years old and younger.

But the baby Jesus was gone.

Joseph and Mary were told why they had to go, but often God does not tell us the whys. Do we trust Him?

When we listen to the world around us, which downplays the presence of God, dismisses God as an effective power in events, our trust in the Lord gets shaken. At times like that, we need to remember this story. We need to remember that the Creator of the Universe is not a remote figure, not an outside observer, but rather an active participant in events.

This morning, there was a passing story of entertainment "news" about Bill Maher mocking quarterback Tim Tebow for his open faith in God. Like Herod, Maher only sees the worldly manifestation. All he sees is a young man bowing down before "something" that isn't there. If he (Maher) can't see it, it must not exist. It certainly isn't effective or active in the world he lives in.

Those who resist the Lord will resist our declarations of His presence. They may even try to act against those who believe. Jesus told His followers to expect persecution.

But against that, we have a God who is an active player, who keeps His eyes upon us, and His hands upon our lives. We need to remember that when we are suddenly trudging through the desert to a destination that had not been in our plans, that seems to take us way outside the expected shape of our lives. There is a Bigger Picture in events than what even we can see.

Yes, Herod was dangerous. But remember, Herod failed in his intention.

The Lord intervened. The baby lived, and grew into a man who changed the world. And as believers, we are partakers in that power and majesty.

Do not resist the Lord.

WHEN SPIRITUAL AND WORLDLY MATTERS CROSS

Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of Herod the king, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying "Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we saw His star in the east and have come to worship Him." When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. Gathering together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born.

They said to him, "In Bethlehem of Judea; for this is what has been written by the prophet:
'And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah,
Are by no means least among the leaders of Judah;
For out of you shall come forth a Ruler
Who will shepherd My people Israel.'"

Then Herod secretly called the magi and determined from them the exact time the star appeared. And he sent them to Bethlehem and said, "Go and search carefully for the Child; and when you have found Him, report to me, so that I too may come and worship Him."

After hearing the king, they went their way; and the star which they had seen in the east, went on before them until it came and stood over the place where the Child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy. And after coming into the house they saw the Child with Mary His mother; and they fell to the ground and worshiped Him. Then, opening their treasures, they presented to Him gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

And having been warned by God in a dream not to return to Herod, the magi left for their own country by another way.
(Matthew 2: 1-12)

Usually, when looking at the story of the magi seeking the baby Jesus, I'm thinking just about their intention to seek the Christ and bring Him gifts. They travel a rather long distance to perform this act of worship, and the gifts they bring are precious and significant. But this time, having recently considered the public clash of belief with unbelief over things like the public display of Nativity scenes, my attention was caught by another element in the story - the clash with King Herod's worldly concerns.

The magi made the trip from their distant home very much as an act of faith. Whatever the significance of the Star was to them, they couldn't be sure of what they would find. Their lack of certainty shows in their choice to go straight to the currently ruling "King of the Jews", Herod. Their own intention was to worship the baby they knew had been born, that they (somehow) knew would be a King, so perhaps it is not surprising that they sought this child with the worldly king.

How easily do we mistake spiritual matters for worldly ones? Fairly easy. Even the Wise can do it.

The magi knew they had traveled to offer worship, worsihp to one born to such a dramatic destiny that the very heavens proclaimed the news for those who could read the signs. The cosmos told them about the baby. And yet, it didn't occur to them that this special birth might be something other than of mere worldly import. So, knowing the child was destined to be king, they sought the current king, apparently assuming the child was of Herod's family.

Herod's own worldliness shows up in his reaction to this visitation. His family were actually Edomites, not Jewish, but in ruling over the Jews he'd obvioiusly become familiar with the fact that in Jewish history rulership didn't always proceed from tather to son, but also that the culture was riddled with prophecies and expectations. He turned to the learned scholars of his court and asked about the Messiah. He knew of the prophecies of an expected ruler who would overturn the worldly authorities. He was paranoid enough about his position to want to keep track of any possible threat to his kingship, and that included that prophesied savior. He too was thinking about worldly matters.

Herod was politic enough not to conceal the information from the magi. When his scholars told him that Bethlehem of Judea was supposedly the place for the Messiah to come from, he sent the magi on their way. He requested with seeming disinterest that once they'd found the Child, they come back and tell him about it all, so he could follow their example. Oh, yeah, all he wanted to do was offer worship to a Child that might one day replace him.

That factor may not have occured to the magi, because they were foreigners. The political, civil state of Judea wasn't of importance to them. They just wanted to worship the child the heavens declared king.

What a situation ripe for disaster!

But God watches out for the things that are important to Him.

God had the Star continue to serve as a guide to the magi, leading them to the Child, still to be found in the small, humble town of Bethlehem. Mary, Joseph and the Child had moved into the house, probably because the crush of out-of-towners had ended, with most of the visitors having gotten their census business done and gone back to their regular lives. But a young mother with a newborn child, they're not going to be shoving off for a cross-country journey right away. So now there was room for them in the inn. The magi arrived, presented their gifts, and performed the worship that they had traveled all this distance to make.

But then God intervened. Instead of allowing the worldly matter to take hold, instead of affirming worldly rulership, God warned the magi to avoid going back to Herod.

God knows perfectly well how civil matters affect our lives. But the birth of the Christ Child is at once more intimate and more vast than the issue of civil, worldly government. Christ became flesh to get God "under our skin", to change our thinking about God from being "out there" to something more intimate. That closeness and immediacy is more important to the Lord than the mere civil picture.

We live in the world. The sounds and sights and touches of the material and civil world press around us, drawing our attention and focus. We look to the worldly authorities for the shaping of our lives, because they do have such power.

But the magi were not seeking a worldly authority. They might not have known that when they set out. even though the sign they followed was distinctly unworldly. But by the time they found the Child, God made it clear to them that the matter of this Child was not something that was within Herod's purview.

Many Christians in the world have for long enjoyed a degree of security within their cultures, being allowed to gather and worship without disturbance from the civil rulers. Of course, just as many do not have that security. In America, I think we've taken it for granted. We have an expectation that the civil authorities will actually protect us as we go about our worship. Some even consider this protection to be ordained by God and therefore inviolate. But that was not the situation Jesus was born into. If the infant Christ was not born into a world where the civil authorities bowed to spiritual worship, why do we expect our situation to be different?

That can be a scary proposition, knowing that our worship might not be secure from disruption by the civil authorities. But look again to the story. God watches out for the things that are important to Him. The magi reached their desitantion. They performed the act of worship they had come so far to give. They saw the face of God Incarnate in the Infant. And then the Lord warned them not to return to Herod. This Child was none of Herod's business.

The Lord puts spiritual matters first, He protects those matters. Danger and persecution may prowl around, but God guides the believers and seekers to Himself, meets them, and then sends them onward by safe (if obscure) paths.

Are we looking to the civil rulership for matters that are spiritual, that belong to the Lord? Are we bestowing spiritual kingship upon worldly leaders instead of seeking the One born King? It's an easy thing to do, even when extraordinary signs hint that the matter is far bigger than a worldly ruler.

Do you see that Star? Do you know where it is leading? And who did you ask for directions? Are they trust-worthy? The Lord awaits your coming.

TESTIFY, BROTHER!

What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the Word of Life -- and the life was manifested, and we have seen and testify and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was manifested to us -- what we have seen and heard we proclaim to you also, so that you too many have fellowship with us, and indeed our fellowship is with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ. These things we write, so that our joy may be made complete.
(1 John 1: 1-4)

The shepherds witnessed the proclamation of the angels and sought out this unusual child, and then they talked about these wonders to those they met. When Zacharias was confronted by Gabriel, he was too anstonished to believe the wonder, and instead resisted it - with the result that he was muted for nine months, until his son was born. But then he testified to the wonders and glory of God, first thing out of his mouth.

John wrote his letter at a time when Gnosticism was beginning to infiltrate the community of believers. Gnosticism in its teachings questioned the very basic nature of the Incarnation of the Christ, that the divinity of God would merge with the material flesh of human beings. They also wanted to keep a sense of "specialness" about spiritual knowledge, a sense that only a few knowledgable persons could know the deepest truth about God and our relationship with Divinity.

Since the indications are that the writer of this letter was indeed the disciple John, son of Zebedee, it must have been frustrating in his old age to see such thinking start to take root in the community of faith. It ran counter to everything he had known in those three precious years of walking with Jesus. All the things he had seen and done in that short but powerful time was being treated as something ethereal.

Walking back and forth over Galilee and Judea with Jesus, talking with people. Watching Jesus lay hands on the sick and heal them. Listening to Jesus teach to crowds and see people changed. Hauling in baskets of food after a crowd had been fed, when all they started with was a handful of loaves and fishes. Holding the broken, empty body when it was taken down off the cross, getting it hastily wrapped and placed in the tomb before the Sabbath began, and then coming back after the Sabbath and finding the tomb open and the loved one he knew was dead instead standing in the garden, bright and living. Walking with the risen Jesus for days after that event, lost in the wonder of what had happened. And then standing watching as Jesus was taken into heaven. And in the years since those events, watching how the teaching of Jesus changed lives, healed lives. Enduring perseuction from a determined young Pharisee, who felt the followers of Christ were an offense to God, only to be smitten by the Lord and changed into a powerful voice, a devoted lover of Jesus. All this John had seen and endured, and now there were those who treated the heart of those events -- that God had become flesh and walked among us -- as a sort of fiction.

He cannot be slilent. It was no fiction. It was no joke.

He had seen it, touched it, walked with it. And he spoke of it so that others could join in the fellowship. Because John had discovered that his experience with Jesus was communicable. It could be passed on to others, so that they too would know that intimate relationship with God through Christ. He (and the other apostles) discovered that by teaching others to know Jesus, the students really did come to know Christ personally. It wasn't just the absorbtion of information about an admired "historical figure." If nothing else, the conversion of Saul into Paul showed the community that the Lord was pro-active, interactive. It was no flat, exterior, untouchable entity they were following now, but rather Someone beyond mere flesh, and yet as immediate as the touch of a child.

"I saw this. I touched this. This happened to me."

There is a tendency in society around us to dismiss many aspects of personal experience as "merely subjective." Those things which cannot be pulled out as objects so that others can directly handle them get treated as mere personal fictions rather than anything "real." Oh, my own experiences and feelings and emotions are real (so the mindset goes), but since you cannot objectify your experiences in such a way that I can have them too, they're not "really real." It's not the truth, of course, or else the act of communication would not be possible at all. Nor would storytelling be the least bit effective. If it were impossible to share non-material experinence generations of storytelling would never touch anyone's heart. And we know that is not true. We respond to the heroics of Homer's Iliad, we understand Odysseus' desire to get home to his wife, we fall into the dreams of Don Quiote because we've had those dreams too. Generation after generation we share the hearts of those who went before. And those are "just stories."

So John insists. The stories of Jesus and his power, and his being as the Son of God made flesh, they are not "just stories." John had walked with the man, talked with the man, ate fish with the man, fish cooked on an open fire by the Sea of Galilee even after his very public and definite execution on a Roman cross. It happened and he was there for it.

How is it that we manage to be so silent about the presence of the Lord in our own lives?

Are we really subdued by the fiction that subjective experience cannont be conveyed to others? Do we really think that because we cannot hand someone a material object the presence of the Lord is not with us?

Years ago, I regularly attended a Bible study lead by a wonderful teacher. It met in someone's home, and was usually packed to the gills with people, sitting on every possible surface - the chairs, the sofa, the footstools, the floor. And when the group prayed, there was an electricity to the air. At one period, one of my friends (who did attend this Bible study as well) was going through a time of trouble and doubt. He wasn't "feeling" the presence of Christ. At one point he actually said he needed the assurance of actually touching Jesus, very much like Thomas and his doubts. This particular night, I was thinking and praying about my friend and his doubts, praying very intensely that if that was what he needed, that Jesus manifest Himself for my friend in order to be reassured. Deeper and deeper into that prayer I went as the time of group prayer continued. And suddenly, I had that sense that Someone had walked into the room, the way people often do when someone arrives late to a function. The sense was so strong, that my eyes flew open, I jerked my head up and looked to a specific spot across the room in the entry way to the living room. There was nothing "extra" there for my eyes to see, but I knew that Jesus was present.

Oh, we pay lip service to it often enough: "Wherever two or more of you are gathered in my name, I will be there." But I'm not sure how seriously we take it. But that night, I knew with a certainty the Lord had been among us.

Of late, I've had my cage of certainty rattled a bit. I've had questions about whether the Lord will indeed provide for my needs. I have wondered if my own lapses and inconsistencies have put me out of the favor of God. But I couldn't quite let go, and the prayers of many have strengthed my grip. And the Lord has met me in my need. I have been touched by the care and concern of others, knowing that their expressions have been boosted by the Lord's hands. I do not believe that God was making anyone do anything that was not already in their hearts. But I do believe that the Lord gave them more power to act upon what was in their hearts, giving them that extra little jolt of energy that made them move. This I have seen with my own eyes. I have seen a man who had once been told that he only had three years left to live because of cancer in the fourth year after that diagnosis (the year I met him) have the joy of the birth of a son, and in the following years endure recuring challenges to his health (that experts expected would kill him), and yet continue on in his ministry (for yes, he is a pastor). This man is still among us, touchable, accessible, and a walking witness to the power of God, and it's now over twenty years since I first met him.

"What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the Word of Life .... These things we write, so that our joy may be made complete.

Testify, brother!

WITNESS TO THE GLORY OF GOD

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being. In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men. The Light shines in the darkness , and the darkness did not comprehend it. There came a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to testify about the Light, so that all might believe through him. He was not the Light, but he came to testify about the Light. There was the true Light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man. He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and the world did not know Him. He came to His own, and those who were His own did not receive Him. But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.
(John 1: 1-14)

So often, when we cite the beginning of the gospel of John, especially at Christmas, we drop out the middle of this passage. We focus on the Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us. This is the glory of God, that He became human and lived with us. We drop out the middle because we don't want to distract from that.

But is it a distraction?

This year, there's been a major aggitation in Southern California over the holiday displays in Santa Monica in the city park along the Palisades. Activist atheists, irritated by the tradition and seeing as the city "establishing" religion made some moves against the practice. They are, in fact, wrong about the legal issue -- private citizens actually do have a legal right to place religious displays on public lands, so long as they are not the "government" property (ie, city hall). It's a matter of free speech. Anyway, because there were more requests for display space than there were spaces, the city opted to assign the spaces by lottery. Any individual could request multiple spaces. So the atheists organized and basically gamed the system, each requesting the maximum number of spaces. The result was that most of the spaces ended up in the hands of the atheists, and only a few in the hands of those who wished to put up religious displays.

What was achieved here? The atheists limited the amount of public expression of religious belief during the season of some major religious holidays (both Christian and Jewish - and even semi-secular, if you count Kwanza). They've presented themselves as blatantly hostile to the public expression of religious belief, claiming that such declarations are oppressive to them. Their own actions aren't the least bit oppressive or injurious to free speech, of course.

In a photo of one of the atheist displays there is a sign that reads "37 million Americans know MYTHS when they see them" Below that is a row of pictures, supposedly of "mythic" figures -- the photo was tiny, so I couldn't quite make the details of what three of them represented, but one was an image of the adult Jesus. Below that was another line of text that says, "What myths do you see?"

What can I say? It made me smile.

Because there is so much wrong with the declaration.

Let us just begin with the images. Although I couldn't see the details, it was clear to me that three of those four images were of fictional figures, whereas Jesus actually lived in history. The historicity of the New Testament documents has been well established. There certainly was some human being who inspired a movement notable enough to be commented upon by the ancient historians Josephus and Pliny the Younger. The display attempts to imply that by simply placing the images together they represent the same class of object. It's very poor logic from a group of people who profess high respect of "reason and logic."

Then there is the word "myth." When atheists use that term, they mean it entirely in a very narrow definition, that being "an unfounded and false notion." And by "unfounded," it is meant that it has no grounding in fact or relaity.

As noted, since there is historical support for the claim that an actual religious visionary named Jesus gathered a group of followers around himself, the atheists are already losing the logic argument on the "unfounded" aspect. There actually is some foundation for the beginnings of Christianity.

It's the God part they really want to dismiss. If they can get rid of that, they can then ignore the actual precepts of the Christian faith.

But "myth" isn't about "unreal fiction." Myths came into being as ways of describing what is meaningful to people. They reflect the reality of the world and display the meanings people give to the world around us. I'm a writer. I've studied mythology for years. For most mythologies, what is important is not whether or not the "story" happened in actual fact, but rather what the significance of that story is to the people who tell it. I could easily go on for pages about this aspect of myth-making (in fact, I've written a whole book about it!), but that's not the point here.

Christianity does indeed tell a mythic story: God became human; that human, Jesus, lived a life teaching people how to draw nearer to God; He died to bring that cycle to a completion; and then He rose from the dead.

It's a story of deep meaning. We can come close to God. We are given a hope of closeness with God that goes beyond the boundaries of our mortal life.

And it really happened, in a specific time and place. And there were witnesses to it.

Which brings us back to what the gospel writer was trying to get across by including reference to John the Baptist in his celebration of God becoming flesh.

John the Baptist was a witness. He went before Jesus, declaring the coming of the Lord. And the writer of the gospel was there to see the events that followed.

There is nothing for a believer to fear in the atheists' declaration that Christianity is "founded on a myth." They are truer than they imagine in putting out that statement. The problem is that they do not understand the words they are using. They use the word "myth" because they think it is squishy enough to serve their purposes, to cloud the issue. They are afraid to say "Christianity is a LIE." They are afraid to say "Jesus NEVER lived!" They are afraid to say, "No aspect of this story EVER happened." Because those statements can be challenged on the ground, the very foundations, of what they consider to be their exclusive realm - "reason and logic."

It is Christmas Day. Do I believe that Jesus was born on this exact day of the year? I don't find that an important question, and I don't see why any believer needs to fear it or be mocked by it. It is the day upon which I choose to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Because He was born and did live among the people of that time. That is enough for me. It happened. It's real.

I will stand on a corner, proclaiming like John the Baptist -- "a voice crying in the wilderness" -- that Jesus is born! The Lord God became a little child! My Redeemer has come and lives today!

May the blessings of Christmas be upon you. Because it really did happen, at a specific time, and a specific place. The Glory of the Lord was and is with us.