The Nature of the Nativity: Day 3 - The Angels

Welcome to Day 3 of our exploration of the Nativity. I sat down last week and worked out a broad outline for this journey. I wanted to make sure that what I was doing was biblical (always a good thing for a minister to do), but also that it all made sense. What I struggled with the most was the order I should use. I finally settled on moving through the story chronologically except to save Jesus for last. Therefore, the first piece we will put on our "table" will be the angels. I know that most people would put the stable up first, but this is my blog so I get to make all weighty decisions. Do you like my spiffy drawing?

The Nature of the Nativity: Day 2 - The Table

Thanks for coming back! If you're like me, it's easy to get side tracked even though you have the best intentions. If you're just joining us, we are taking a 15 day journey through the nativity searching for spiritual truths. Yesterday we spent some time on why Jesus came and what God was doing with the Baby in the Manger. Today, we begin setting up our nativity scene.

I enjoy the Christmas season. I like the lights, the trees, the smells, and, of course, the eating. However, the preparation is not something I enjoy. Not only do we have to drag our extensive collection of boxes out of the attic, but we have to also put away all the other...stuff to make room. It just so happens, that everywhere Beth wants to put Christmas decorations there are already everyday decorations. Believe it or not, we don't have a bunch of empty end tables and shelves 11 months out of the year. As I said, all of this needs to be put away to make room. There are currently two nativities on display in our home. Both of them are taking the place of something else. In my office, I had to move my Lego Death Star and Lego Millennium Falcon to make room for my new breakable nativity scene that I inherited. 

"That's no moon...it's a space station."

5th Week of Advent 2015

The Judean hillside was dark and dangerous under the new moon. The Shepherd had to be doubly vigilant as he searched the rocky hills. Evening had been drawing to a close, and he was process of putting his flock up for the night when he noticed that one little lamb was missing yet again. He finished corralling his group of fat tailed sheep, gave instructions to his hired workers, and then set off into the inky darkness. Now he was miles away, tired and dirty, but intent on finding that one little lamb. The hired hands thought he was foolish; he had seen as much in their eyes as he had turned to leave. They believed he should just cut his losses. After all, this was almost a weekly occurrence with this lamb. Every few days, the Shepherd had to leave the rest of the flock to hunt this wayward one down, risking life and limb to bring him back into the fold. The hired hands didn’t understand; for them it was just one lamb out of hundreds. Losing it was understandable, an acceptable loss, because it was only a job. It wasn’t merely a job for the Shepherd. These were his Father’s sheep, and his Father cared for them deeply. His Father had entrusted the care of the sheep to him, and no losses were acceptable. The Shepherd loved the sheep and would not leave even one to perish. 

4th Week of Advent 2015

Joseph stared transfixed into the flames of the small fire. As he sat exhausted from the day’s events, he let his mind wander back to the day his life changed. He and his friends had been working on the house, his and Mary's house, when he got the news. Eliam bar Agee had come running through the little village of Nazareth to tell Joseph that Mary would soon be here. He had nodded solemnly to the lad, not wanting his face to betray his excitement; he couldn’t let his friends know how deeply he loved Mary or he would have to ever endure their heckling. The men working with him loved their wives, but the women they loved came after their trade or their children. The only thing Joseph loved more than Mary was Yahweh Himself. Yes he wanted sons, and yes he wanted to be a successful carpenter, but none of that compared to Mary. He watched Eliam dart off as young boys do, but continued to work steadily. He glanced around nonchalantly and saw three pairs of eyes watching him, dancing with laughter. He tried to feign disinterest, but then they started laughing outright; everyone knew how much Joseph loved Mary. Grinning sheepishly, Joseph gave up on the ruse. He stowed his tools and began to make his way toward the house of Mary’s father that he might see his beloved. He arrived as Mary’s parents were hurrying her into the house. He only caught a quick glimpse of her, but it was enough. Joseph had just enough time to see what everyone else had seen; his promised one was with child. 

3rd Week of Advent 2015

 She could hear the whispers as she carried the water jar through town, maybe not the exact words but definitely the whispers. Everywhere she looked, people quickly averted their gaze. If it wasn't so heart wrenching and lonely, Mary probably would have found their antics humorous. It had only been a few days since she had returned from Elizabeth’s, but the news that she was pregnant spread like wildfire like all gossip does in a small village. When she had left for her cousin’s home, Mary had only been a few weeks pregnant, a secret easy to keep. But now she was almost halfway through the pregnancy and her situation was blatantly obvious. Life the past few months had been wonderful. Elizabeth and Zechariah knew the truth and celebrated the coming Messiah with her, as she in turn celebrated with them and the birth of their son, John. Everyone there just saw a pregnant relative of Elizabeth's and assumed nothing sinister. It was a shock to come home after the months of peace. Her parents said they believed her, but the looks her parents shared around her spoke volumes on there own. And then there was Joseph. She had seen only his back as he avoided her these past few days. She had told Joseph about the angel’s visit before she left, but it seemed that he hadn’t believed her. Maybe he had thought that she was addled from long hours in the hot sun. Maybe he thought she was putting too much weight on an odd dream. Regardless, it was obvious that he now thought the worst, that she had been unfaithful and trying to cover it up.

2nd Week of Advent 2015

With a sigh, Yehoshua shifted his position. It looked like a comfortable position wasn't going to be possible tonight. If you moved one rock, the Judean hillside would grow two more in its place. Tonight was his night to be on the exhausting second watch, and he was only halfway through it. No one liked second watch. First watch and third watch weren't too bad because at least you got your sleep in one large cluster.  On second watch, you only got a few hours of sleep before you were prodded awake with a staff in the ribs, forced to stay awake for four hours listening to the contented snores of those fortunate enough not to be on second watch. Once you finished the shift, you had to try to get what little sleep was left before the sheep started waking up. With a grunt of exasperation, he dug under his leg, pulled out the offending stone, and hurled it down the hillside in angry satisfaction. Oh well, it may not be the most coveted of jobs, but at least shepherding put food on the table which was more than some people had.

1st week of Advent 2015

The doors swung shut with a loud thud, and the world went from light to dark. Standing just inside the threshold of the temple, Zechariah could hear the prayers of the worshipers gathered outside the walls. As a priest, he had served many times at the temple as his family worked their allotted time, but he had never won the right to serve before the Lord in the Holy Place. Some priests waited their entire life and were never chosen. After years of cycling on and off, his name had finally been drawn; it was his turn to offer the incense to the Lord. He overcame his awe and walked reverently through the dimly lit Holy Place, watching motes of dust meander through the shafts of light. With piousness, he measured out the correct portions of oils and spices, spreading them out over the glowing coals that had come from the altar of burnt sacrifice in the courtyard. 

The Semicolon and the Soul

"He restores my soul;
He guides me in paths of righteousness
For His name's sake."  -Psalm 23:3 NASB

I have been  granted a new title in the past few months, Communications Guy. Anything that leaves the church office in an official capacity is supposed go through me for approval/editing. My internet history tab used to be filled with potential Bible studies, youth games, and the like. Now I bookmark my favorite grammar websites that I use to help me wade through newsletter articles and bulletin advertisements. All this proof reading has changed how I read. I used to be rather reckless in my reading, skipping over punctuation and carelessly structuring the sentences and phrases especially the more familiar passages.  Now I read with intent and my proof-o-meter always seems to be on even if it is a bit faulty. You won't have to look too hard to find grammatical errors in this blog. Anyway, sometimes this is not so good; it is difficult to read text messages from teenagers and from some adults now. Other times this is good; my Bible study is richer than before. I know why there is a semicolon instead of a period. I see how it radically changes the meaning of the sentence.

Phoebe and the Security Blanket

Phoebe is our 64 lb. doberman...

Phoebe is our 64 lb. Doberman. It came as a shock to some when we got her, probably because our two previous dogs were miniature dachshunds. When I'm asked why we got such a big dog my reply is, "I wanted a dog that wasn't allergic to truck tires like dachshunds seem to be". For all her perceived viciousness, Phoebe is actually one of the most "loving" dogs I've had. She is always wanting to be right up under one of us. It's a regular thing for the kids to spread out a blanket  on the couch so she can sit with them, for Beth to holler at the dog to "quit standing on me" while she sits in the recliner, or for me to gripe about having no where to put my feet because the dog is curled up at the foot of my chair. There are constant wet-nosed hand nudges, push you off your feet leg leanings, and sad-eyed food beggings at our house. But her favorite place to be is in our bed. This silly dog rolls over on her back in between us with her feet up in the air like a dead bug and proceeds to fall asleep. The term "goofy dog" comes out of my mouth quite often.

Forsaken Son

Easter is nearly here. On Sunday morning, my family will wake up, get dressed, and join with countless others around the world to celebrate Christ's resurrection from the dead. We will sing praises to God that are filled with barely containable joy. We will listen, with enraptured hearts, to a sermon proclaiming the wonders God has done for us through Christ Jesus. But now, in this week leading up to Easter, we remember the awful things that lead up to our Easter joy. As we read the events found in the Gospels, we come face to face with pain, suffering, grief, and unimaginable love.

Grass Mowing Goats

...I hate mowing my grass...

I hate mowing grass. Let me rephrase; I hate mowing my grass. A good part of our yard is low, so water collects from our yard and from our neighbors' yard. This means it takes twice as long for it to be dry enough for me to not leave holes and ruts when I mow. All the excess water feeds gigantic clumps of crab grass, not to mention a variety of weeds, that grow twice as fast as the centipede grass that is in the rest of  the yard. On top of that, if my grass gets too tall, I run the risk of receiving a fine from the city. So, if it rains on a consistent basis, I find myself in ankle deep marsh sludge using my weed eater to knock the tops off the mutant grass and weeds that infest my yard. There are many days that I have wished I owned some goats to make the whole thing easier.

1x1x1=1

Have you ever tried to explain something to a preschooler? With four kids, I have tons of stories of them trying to understand something that is way beyond their little minds. Some of the time they are hysterical, other times their questions have a ring of simple truth, but sometimes they can't hope to understand. Right now they are going through one of these times. My oldest son is 8 years old and right now he and my wife are in Bethesda, MD going through the beginning stages of a bone marrow transplant. They left June 1 and are hoping to be back around the first part of October if everything goes well. My other three children are 4, 4, and 3. They look at their dad and say, "I miss momma..." or "I miss my brother...".Because of the distance and because of the risk to their brother, they won't get to see them for at least three months and that's only if he is doing well enough for them to visit. As a father I understand all of this. I can see that this is necessary and that good will come out of it, but they can't. I've tried my best to explain to them that their mom and brother will be back, but that it will be a long time. The hardest time for them, and for me, is when I have to leave them some place. Whether it's daycare, babysitter, or grandparents, they don't want me to leave. My four year old son is the strong type. He gives me a hug and then walk resigned into the daycare. He'll stand at each window and wave to me as I walk to the van. He doesn't cry, but he doesn't smile either, he simply  accepts that I will be back. His four year old sister gives me a hug and is gone though I can tell by her eyes that she doesn't like this any better than her brothers; she seems to adapt the fastest to all this. My little one is not as big as his siblings. "But I miss you dad", is all he'll say as he clings to my neck , or leg, or hides behind me. So we hug and talk and give lots of kisses. I try to remind all of them that I will be back, it's just for a little while. I remind them of the things they do understand to help them accept the things they can't. Yes, I'm tearing up as I write this, but emotion is not why I began with this. There are some things about God that we cannot understand, we just have to accept them. One of those things is the idea of the Trinity.

Mood Rings and Offshore Phone Calls

Do you remember mood rings? I never had one, but I had a few friends who did. The basic premise is that our body temperature changes depending on how we are feeling. The crystals in the ring are extremely sensitive to heat changes with different colors representing a higher or lower body temp. There is some correlation between stress and body temperature, so there might be some truth to the mood ring. I wish my wife had worn a mood ring before we started dating. If she had, I might have had a clue that she was interested. By her account, she waited for me to ask her out for over a year. She's even told me how irritated she would get when I would go out on dates with another girl during that year. Deep down I still believe she should have said something. Maybe she could have passed one of those notes from the third grade during Sunday School...(Circle yes or no if you'll be my boyfriend). Maybe not, I probably would have fallen off my chair if that would have happened. I bring all this up to say that I had no clue what was in this young lady's heart. God, however knows the hearts of all men. 

There is a way that seems right...

I'm sorry, but if there is truth there is also falsehood. Many people in our world would certainly disagree with me. Society, especially that found in the U.S., chooses to believe that each person can decide for themselves what is right and wrong as long as it does not encroach on choices made by anyone else. Some even believe this to be a modern development, a crowning achievement of our forward thinking society. This is not the case. Mankind has found ways to justify its actions throughout history. Interestingly, when you step back a few hundred years all the justifications look a lot like, "I did it because I wanted to." In this blog, I desire to show you the Truth of God that is found in Jesus Christ.