A gift from a God we hardly even knew.

We enjoy thinking of ourselves as basically generous, benevolent, giving people. That’s one reason why everyone, even the nominally religious, loves Christmas. Christmas is a season to celebrate our alleged generosity. The newspaper keeps us posted on how many needy families we have adopted. The Salvation Army kettles enable us to be generous while buying groceries (for ourselves) or gifts (for our families). People we work with who usually balk at the collection to pay for the morning coffee fall over themselves soliciting funds “to make Christmas” for some family.

We love Christmas because, as we say, Christmas brings out the best in us. Everyone gives on Christmas, even the stingiest among us, even the Ebeneezer Scrooges. Dickens suggests that down deep, even the worst of us can become generous, giving people.

Yet I suggest we are better givers than getters, not because we are generous people but because we are proud, arrogant people. The Christmas story–the one according to Luke not Dickens–is not about how blessed it is to be givers but about how essential it is to see ourselves as receivers. 

We prefer to think of ourselves as givers–powerful, competent, self-sufficient, capable people whose goodness motivates us to employ some of our power, competence and gifts to benefit the less fortunate. Which is a direct contradiction of the biblical account of the first Christmas. There we are portrayed not as the givers we wish we were but as the receivers we are. Luke and Matthew go to great lengths to demonstrate that we–with our power, generosity, competence and capabilities–had little to do with God’s work in Jesus. God wanted to do something for us so strange, so utterly beyond the bounds of human imagination, so foreign to human projection, that God had to resort to angels, pregnant virgins, and stars in the sky to get it done. We didn’t think of it, understand it or approve it. All we could do, at Bethlehem, was receive it. A gift from a God we hardly even knew.

—William Willimon, taken from an article in The Christian Century, Dec 21-28, 1998

Un-Manicured Hands

From Max Lucado:

Jesus came, not as a flash of light or as an unapproachable conqueror, but as one whose first cries were heard by a peasant girl and a sleepy carpenter. The hands that first held him were un-manicured, calloused, and dirty. For thirty-three years he would feel everything you and I have ever felt. Weak and weary; and afraid of failure. His feelings got hurt.

To think of Jesus in such a light seems almost irreverent. There’s something about keeping him divine that keeps him distant and predictable. But don’t do it! For heaven’s sake, don’t! Let him be as human as he intended to be. Let him into the mire and muck of our world. For only if we let him in can he pull us out!

Jesus in our Neighborhood Part II

From Max Lucado:

The God of the Universe was born into the poverty of a peasant and spent his first night in the cow’s feed trough. He left the glory of heaven and moved into our neighborhood. Who would have imagined he would do such a thing?

What a world he left. Our classiest mansion would be a tree trunk to him. God became a one-celled embryo and entered the womb of Mary. He became like us. Just look at the places he was willing to go: feed troughs, carpentry shops, badlands, and cemeteries.

The places he went to reach us show how far he will go to touch us. He loves to be with the ones he loves!

Jesus Moved into a Bad Neighborhood

From Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals.  It is an amazing daily prayer book that will change the way you start your day.  You can buy it here or read it online here.

Everything in our society teaches us to move away from suffering, to move out of neighborhoods where there is high crime, to move away from people who don’t look like us.

But the gospel calls us to something altogether different. We are to laugh at fear, to lean into suffering, to open ourselves to the stranger.

Advent is the season when we remember how Jesus put on flesh and moved into the neighborhood. God getting born in a barn reminds us that God shows up in the most forsaken corners of the earth. 

Wherever we come from, Jesus teaches us that good can happen where we are, even if real-estate agents and politicians aren’t interested in our neighborhoods. Jesus comes from Nazareth, a town from which folks said nothing good could come. He knew suffering from the moment he entered the world as a baby refugee born in the middle of a genocide. Jesus knew poverty and pain until he was tortured and executed on a Roman cross.

This is the Jesus we are called to follow. With his coming we learn that the most dangerous place for Christians to be is in comfort and safety, detached from the suffering of others. Places that are physically safe can be spiritually deadly.

Christmas and Mr. Shoe Doctor

This is by John Coleman.  He is a friend from college and law school. He left the practice of law to go to seminary and was the rector at Ascension Episcopal in Montgomery.

I wasn’t sure where the conversation was going, or if it would be a conversation at all.  I went to get my car washed.  As I was waiting, a man, whose apron identified him as Mr. Shoe Doctor asked if I would like to get my shoes shined.  I sat down at his stand and the revelation started.

He would call out a day of the week and then take a rag and slap it against my shoe.  “Monday.  WHAP!  Tuesday. WHAP!  Wednesday.  WHAP!”  I suppose this is routine, at least the part about the rag, when getting your shoes shined, but this moment seemed anything but routine.  I could tell by the cadence of his voice that he was about to tell me something.   It was barely more than a whisper, spoken to the air more than me, but it was building in intensity.  He went on, “Thursday.  WHAP!  Friday.  WHAP!  Saturday.  WHAP!  Sunday.  WHAP!”

 And then he paused and said, “Everyday.”

 “Everyday?”  I asked, thinking after all that there was surely something more.

 “Everyday!”  He said.

 I decided to push a little.  “Everyday, what?”

 “Everyday is holy.  Each day is a day to tell about the Lord.  That’s the business I’m in and business is good.”

I discovered that Mr. Shoe Doctor (I asked him his name and he just pointed to the apron) had shined shoes in many places.  He liked to talk about Chicago’s O’Hare airport, so I figured he served there the longest.  He told me about his life.  How he had lost a son and moved back to the area to take care of his mother.  He got excited when he talked about being diagnosed several years ago with cancer and how God had given him his life on this earth back through treatment and remission.  Each story was peppered with talk about Jesus, Holy Scripture and faith.  He said God had been so good to him that he had to tell it, and tell it he did.

I’ve been thinking about my feet ever since the encounter with the Shoe Doctor.  Feet probably aren’t what most contemplate during the holidays, but, the more I think about it, the more it seems fitting.  After all our feet, literally and figuratively, carry us into the season and beyond to tell about what God has done.  The familiar hymn instructs us to “go tell it on the mountain” that salvation was born on Christmas morning.  “How beautiful on the mountains” the prophet Isaiah tells us “are the feet of those who bring good news.”  (Isaiah 52:7).

I sometimes wonder if my feet really carry me to the places in this world that need to hear the good news.  Of course, I join with the world to shout it during Advent and Christmas, but when the tree is by the curb, the children are back in school and everything returns to “normal” where do my feet carry me?  Do I really look for the opportunities God gives me to “tell it?”

The angel Gabriel appeared to Mary with the announcement that she would conceive and bear a son.  After a moment of questioning and doubt her response was resolute. "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word."  (Luke 1:38).

This “Yes” to God took Mary on a journey to the manger, but following the singing and the visiting royalty, the journey continued.  It was a life filled with joy and anguish.  There were some parts that I’m sure Mary would have avoided but her feet, with God’s help, carried her through.  She gave birth to salvation on Christmas, but she continued to give birth to salvation through her life in the world by nurturing a life with Christ and following the call of God.

The angel appears to all of us this Advent and echoes the words he spoke to Mary.  “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.”  (Luke 1:28).  We are favored and blessed, not because of what we have done, but whose we are.  We may pause and look around, thinking the angel is surely asking someone else.  Mary did it too.  We may question our qualifications and ability, but make no mistake-each of us is being called.  We are asked to bear Christ in the world through our lives, not just around the tree or at a Christmas pageant, but everywhere, even at the car wash.

Our shoes are shined and ready to walk.  Where will our feet carry us and will we have the courage to tell it? Everyday.
 

Lost Sheep? Prodical Sons? GOOD NEWS FOR YOU

Before Christ’s coming into the world, all men universally in Adam were nothing else but a wicked and crooked generation, rotten and corrupt trees, stony ground, full of brambles and briars, lost sheep, prodigal sons, naughty unprofitable servants, unrighteous stewards, workers of iniquity, the brood of adders, blind guides, sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death: to be short nothing else but children of perdition, and inheritors of hell fire.

But after [Christ] was once come down from heaven, and had taken our frail nature upon him, he made all them that would receive him truly, and believe his word, good trees, and good ground, fruitful and pleasant branches, children of light, citizens of heaven, sheep of his fold, members of his body, heirs of his Kingdom, his true friends and brethren, sweet and lively bread, the elect and chosen people of God.

— Church of England
"Homily on the Nativity"

Two Gifts

“When God planned the great work of saving sinners, he provided two gifts. He gave his Son and he gave his Spirit. In fact each person of the Trinity was involved in the great work of salvation. The love, grace and wisdom of the Father planned it; the love, grace and humility of the Son purchased it; and the love, grace and power of the Holy Spirit enabled sinners to believe and receive it.

The first great truth in this work of salvation is that God sent his Son to take our nature on him and to suffer for us in it. The second great truth is that God gave his Spirit to bring sinners to faith in Christ and so be saved.”

— John Owen
The Holy Spirit, ed. R. J. K. Law
(Edinburgh, UK: Banner of Truth, 1998)

Jesus In the Background of Christmas

By Pete Wilson
I read a blog post yesterday from my friend, Ian Cron, (when I grow up I want to be able to write like him).  It convicted me in so many ways and I just had to share a portion of it with you guys. He wrote…

A year ago Rob and I were sitting in a Starbucks in Connecticut, drinking lattes and catching up when he turned his gaze toward the ceiling.

“Do you hear that?” Rob said, his expression darkening.
“Hear what?” I said.
“Listen,” he said, glaring at the white speaker grilles above our heads. “Do you know that song?”

I closed my eyes and strained to hear the music over the hiss and gurgle of milk being steamed for someone’s cappuccino.
I shrugged. “Nope,” I said. “I can’t make it out.”

Rob threw his hands up in the air. “That’s a cut off Miles Davis’ record Kind of Blue,” he said, his voice rising with indignation.

“Alright,” I said. “Apparently this bothers you.”
“It’s MILES DAVIS!” he said, slapping the tabletop with his hand.

I’ve known Rob for 30 years. He’s talented. He’s smart. He’s not afraid to speak his mind.

“When brilliant compositions are used for background music it desensitizes people to their genius,” he continued.

I paused. “You mean familiarity breeds contempt?” I said.

“Precisely. If an amazing piece of music is constantly playing in the background your admiration for it doesn’t increase, it diminishes. It becomes no big deal,” Rob said, imitating someone trying to speak and yawn at the same time.

At the time I thought Rob’s remarks were insightful but overstated, and yet something about them rang true. They stuck with me.

Last week I was sitting in another Starbucks, this one two blocks from my home in Franklin, TN reading Max Picard’s The World of Silence and drinking coffee when I made a connection between what Rob had said and the world I live in.

Is Jesus becoming background music in my life?

No matter where I go someone is talking, singing, arguing, writing a book, blogging, putting on a conference, or making a record about…Jesus.

(Yes, I’m aware I’m guilty of doing this right now.)

Not a day goes by when I don’t see tee shirts with Bible verses printed on them or a tattoo of Jesus’ crucifixion inked on someone’s arm. Billboards with warnings about hell dot the highway. I can’t turn on the radio or television without someone talking at me about Jesus; he’s quoted (or misquoted) on bumper stickers, and recently while standing at a urinal in the men’s room at a restaurant I looked up and discovered a framed print of John 3:16 hanging on the wall in front of me. Some people don’t do subtle.

If Rob is right my experience of constant exposure to all things Jesus isn’t increasing my admiration or devotion for him, it’s diminishing it.

Read the entire post HERE

What a timely post. We’re getting ready to enter a season called Christmas that is really all about Jesus, yet it’s so easy for him to quickly become a sort of ambient background music.

I don’t know about you, but I refuse to allow the commercialization of Christmas, along with my self centered, ego-driven, materialistic desires to push Jesus from his rightful place.

So how do I combat this? It takes a lot of focused intentionality but let me give you one practical example.

Over the next four weeks you’re probably going to see hundreds and hundreds of nativity scenes.

One of my Christmas traditions is every time I see a nativity scene (as biblically incorrect as it might be) is to pause and say, “Wow! That really happened. That REALLY happened. God actually stepped into human history and gave us what we really needed, a Savior who bathed us in his life changing, soul shaping grace.”

It’s easy to allow all of these nativity scenes to get lumped into the same category as Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy… but it was an actual event that changed everything!

How are you going to keep Jesus from becoming background noise this Christmas?

A Prayer about Two Very Different Fridays

 By Scotty Smith

 

So do not worry, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 

Matt. 6:31-33

Lord Jesus, there’s more traffic than usual on the roads early this morning, but not as much as last year. Though it’s just a little after 4:00 am, Black Friday got a jump start this year with doors opening at midnight. People have already been pushing against doors, running up aisles, and grabbing for items for many hours now.

Jesus, I’m not sitting here in condescending judgment of anyone, for there’s no one, by nature, more greedy or grabby than me. I am just as inclined to “run after these things” as anyone else. I thank you that I get to live in a time and place of abundance. I praise you I’ve never had to be concerned about what I’ll eat, drink, or wear. And I’m grateful that many people will enjoy fine savings and get real bargains today.

But all the hubbub of Black Friday, simply makes me more grateful for another Friday—for Good Friday and what you accomplished that day for us on the cross.

At your expense, the riches of grace are freely lavished on ill-deserving people, like me. It’s only because of you, Jesus, that I know God as Abba, Father—who knows my every need; who answers before I ask; who gives me all things richly to enjoy; who satisfies my hunger and slakes my thirst, with the manna of the gospel and the living water of the Spirit; who has clothed my shameful nakedness with your perfect righteousness.

Anybody that knows you is wealthy beyond all imagination, measure and accounting.
We praise you.
We adore you.
We worship you with humble and grateful hearts.

Two days after this Black Friday we will celebrate the first Sunday in Advent. As we reflect upon the promises of your coming and the wonder of your birth, teach us anew what it means to seek your kingdom first, above anything and everything else. What new chapters of your story of redemption and restoration would you write through us?

Even as your righteous has come to us by faith, how might it come through us to the broken places in our communities? Rather than spending more money on ourselves, how would you have us invest our time, talent, and treasure in serving others? We praise you for your transforming kingdom and we long for its consummate fullness. So very Amen we pray, with grateful hearts and great anticipation.

Man’s Maker was Made Man

He determines the number of the stars;
   he gives to all of them their names. Ps. 147:4

 “Man’s maker was made man, that He, Ruler of the stars, might nurse at His mother’s breast; that the Bread might hunger, the Fountain thirst, the Light sleep, the Way be tired on its journey; that the Truth might be accused of false witness, the Teacher be beaten with whips, the Foundation be suspended on wood; that Strength might grow weak; that the Healer might be wounded; that Life might die.”

                   — Augustine, quoted by Trevin Wax

The Day(s) after Christmas....

A Prayer About the Day After Christmas is a post from: Heavenward by Scotty Smith

    The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told. Luke 2:20

Heavenly Father, it’s reasonable to assume that life just on the other side of Christmas day is as varied as imaginable. For some of us, this was the “greatest” Christmas ever, in terms of healthy, caring relationships… incredible “eats”… thoughtful gifts, both given and received… and above all,  fresh gratitude for the indescribable gift of your Son, Jesus.

For others of us, it was a really difficult day. Palpable tensions… dashed hopes… brokenness abounding. For still others, it was the first Christmas with an empty chair where a loved one used to sit, or a day spend all by ourselves in excruciating loneliness.

Father, my prayer today is for all of us, no matter what yesterday was like. For even our best days are in need of the gospel and none of our worse days are beyond the reach of the gospel.

When the shepherds left Jesus’ manger, they were still shepherds… they still couldn’t worship at the temple… they still couldn’t give testimony in a court of law… they still were stereotyped as thieves by many in their community.

And we shouldn’t romanticize what Joseph and Mary did the day after Jesus was born. As though, all of the sudden, a 5-star Inn in Bethlehem did open up… as though Mary’s body would’ve been spared all the normal chaos and pain of birthing and afterbirth… as though angels started showing up as round the clock wet nurses.

Father, thank you that we’re Christians, not Gnostics. We don’t have to pretend about anything. Christmas isn’t a season in which we’re supposed to be transported into a super-spirituality, rising above reality. The gospel isn’t about denial, but learning to delight in you… no matter what’s going on. We praise you that Jesus came into a real world where everything is broken, but he came to make all things new… starting with us.

Please give each of us the special and the common grace you gave shepherds. Let us hear and let us see more of Jesus, even if we remain “shepherds” the rest of our lives. Enable us to glorify and praise you, Father, for you are not a man that you would lie about anything. Everything you’ve promised us in your Word will come to pass. The gospel really is true. Jesus really is making all things new. Your grace really is sufficient. This is good news for shepherds, kings and us alike. So very Amen, we pray, in Jesus’ faithful and loving name.

“Fear not.”

Fear Not

Desiring God Blog

And the angel said to them, ‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people' (Luke 2:10).

The Bethlehem shepherds were afraid of the holy angel. That’s understandable. Holy glory naturally strikes terror into the heart of sinful people.

But the angel told them they did not have to fear. He was bringing them good news! Christ the Lord, their Savior, had been born in the city of his father, David. And this Savior would bring peace among those with whom God was pleased—peace with God (Romans 5:1) through the forgiveness of their sins (Luke 1:77).

God had sent his holy Son into the world not to condemn it, “but in order that the world might be saved through him” (John 3:17). “For our sake he [would make] him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21). And that would mean “no condemnation for all who [would be] in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1).

That wonderful night the herald angel proclaimed the beginning of the end of our terror of God’s holiness. More than that, it was the beginning of the end of all our fears. “God is love” (1 John 4:16), and “perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18).

“Fear not.” This is God’s Christmas message to you if you are in Christ Jesus. God is completely for you (Romans 8:31) and he will conquer all your fears and all your foes (Romans 8:35-39).

You have nothing to fear. That is good news of great joy!

Hell's Terror

 

“‘Immanuel, God with us.’  It is hell’s terror.  Satan trembles at the sound of it. . . . Let him come to you suddenly, and do you but whisper that word, ‘God with us,’ back he falls, confounded and confused. . . . ‘God with us’ is the laborer’s strength.  How could he preach the gospel, how could he bend his knees in prayer, how could the missionary go into foreign lands, how could the martyr stand at the stake, how could the confessor own his Master, how could men labor if that one word were taken away? . . . ‘God with us’ is eternity’s sonnet, heaven’s hallelujah, the shout of the glorified, the song of the redeemed, the chorus of the angels, the everlasting oratorio of the great orchestra of the sky. . . .

Feast, Christians, feast; you have a right to feast. . . . But in your feasting, think of the Man in Bethlehem.  Let him have a place in your hearts, give him the glory, think of the virgin who conceived him, but think most of all of the Man born, the Child given.

I finish by again saying, A happy Christmas to you all!”

                          C. H. Spurgeon

Immanuel is a post from: Ray Ortlund

Immanuel (God With Us)

Great quote for today as we approach the day where we celebrate Immanuel - "God with us"

 

Near to God and near to us

Of First Importance

“Would you have your Savior to be one who is near to God, so that his mediation might be prevalent with him? And can you desire him to be nearer to God than Christ is, who is his only-begotten Son, of the same essence with the Father? And would you not only have him near to God, but also near to you, that you may have free access to him? And would you have him nearer to you than to be in the same nature, united to you by a spiritual union, so close as to be fitly represented by the union of the wife to the husband, of the branch to the vine, of the member to the head; yea, so as to be one spirit? For so he will be united to you, if you accept him.… What is there wanting or what would you add if you could, to make him more fit to be your Savior?”

— Jonathan Edwards

Doing All Things Well

 A Prayer About Jesus’ Perfect Birthing Experience is a post from: Heavenward by Scotty Smith

But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law, to redeem those under law, that we might receive the full rights of sons. Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.” So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir.     Galatians 4:4-7

Dear Jesus, like others, I often criticize and sentimentalize the circumstances of your birth. Judging Jerusalem for missing “her moment”… condemning inn-keepers for gross inhospitality… and pitying Mary for having to endure such an ignoble and unsanitary birthing room. Yet everything happened in keeping with the decrees and delights of heaven. “Doing all things well” didn’t just start happening after your resurrection. From cradle to cross to crown, it’s all one big gospelicious story of sovereign grace.

Jesus, you arrived, “when the time had fully come”… not a day early, and not a day late. As humbling as it was to be born under the ceiling of a stable, being born under the weight of the law was a far greater burden. Yet that’s exactly why you came into the world—to take the full weight of God’s law upon yourself in order to redeem us… to redeem me from sin’s penalty, power and presence.

There’s no way we could’ve ever fulfilled the demands of God’s righteous and holy law. Only you could and only you did… and you did it all for us, Jesus. Your life of perfect obedience is now considered to be ours. Your death upon the cross is also considered to be ours—a death by which you exhausted the judgment we deserve for our sin. Because you lived in our place and died in our place, we’re no longer slaves, but fully-righted and much beloved children of the living God. We dance before you and delight in you, Jesus, for such over-the-top good news—for such a glorious gospel.

Abba, Father has already robed us with your righteousness and has sent his powerful Spirit to live in our hearts, and our future looks spectacular, as well. For we will co-inherit the new heaven and new earth with you, and with our whole pan-national family. O my… what is left to say but “Hallelujah, what a Savior! Hallelujah, what a salvation!”

If someone should ask us what we got for Christmas this year and we don’t answer, “More of the gospel!”, have mercy on us, Jesus, have mercy on us. Indeed, we won’t judge inn-keepers this Advent season, but we will rejoice in the God of our salvation. So very Amen, we pray, in your merciful and matchless name.

A New Kind of Man

“God became man to turn creatures into sons: not simply to produce better men of the old kind but to produce a new kind of man.”
           — C. S. Lewis

Come down to the manger

Come down to the manger, see the little stranger
Wrapped in swaddling clothes, the prince of peace
Wheels start turning, torches start burning
And the old wise men journey from the East

How a little baby boy bring the people so much joy
Son of a carpenter, Mary carried the light
This must be Christmas, must be tonight

Code Bob? Code Cheri? Code Greg? Code Ed?

The “R” word. by Jon Acuff at Stuff Christians Like

The easiest way for a store to make my wife mad is to have a complicated return policy. She refuses to shop at Forever 21 for this very reason. Their return policy is so complicated that the cashiers will often read it to you when you’re making a purchase, kind of like a cop reading you Miranda Rights. “By purchasing this melon colored scarf you realize that should you ever take it out of the bag and merely make eye contact with it, that will forever be held against you in the court of no returns.”

This type of frustration often manifests itself at Target. There have been a number of times when they’ve refused to make some return easy over an amount in question as small as a few dollars. The great irony is that Target will spend tens of millions of dollars trying to get people into their stores via advertising and then argue over $1.50 once they’re at the returns counter. If they paused for a second, they would jump at the chance to pay a $1.50 to get a customer who over the course of her life will spend thousands of dollars in their store.

That’s why I love places like LL Bean. You can bring a canoe on fire into their store and they’ll take it back. Same with Wal-mart, a store we spend a considerable amount of time in. Although the Wal-mart in Franklin is situated in kind of a pit of despair parking lot, we still go pretty regularly. A few years ago, during one of our trips there, I saw something interesting that I’ve written about before. It was a powerful action that in a strange way reminded me of Christmas this year.

One afternoon, in the middle of an ordinary Saturday, the loudspeaker buzzed to life and a less than calm voice said, “All employees, we’ve got a Code Adam.”

In seconds, every employee sprinted to the front doors. A few went outside to scan the parking lot, the others formed a wall blocking the exits. It was like an anthill had been kicked over.

Why?

Because a Code Adam means that a child is missing.

I imagine that most times, the child is found quickly and all is returned to right. That’s what happened when I saw my first Code Adam. But for a few minutes, nothing in the store mattered as much as finding that missing kid. The world of commerce and price tags and sales figures stopped dead as they tried to locate a lost child.

And I think that’s how God is too.

When I am lost. When like the prodigal son, I stumble from the father’s grasp and gaze, I don’t think He cries out “look at Jon sinning again! Look at him failing me again!” I think God cries, “Code Jon! Code Jon!”

And then He rushes outside, hoping to intercept me before I get in the wrong car, desperate to keep me from making the type of decision that is going to hurt me. Because He loves me. I am His delight. He longs, not likes, but longs to show us compassion.

And we are the reason for the greatest Code Adam moment in the history of all mankind, Christmas.

In the tinsel and the lights and the balsam flavored candles we forget that sometimes. It is a beautiful season. It is full of merriment and cheer, but at its heart, Christmas is a rescue.

From the safety and security of heaven, stormed Jesus. From the contentment and perfection of God rushed the Lord. Why? Because God had declared a Code Adam. A Code Jon. A Code Christy. A Code Stacy. A Code Chad. A Code Chris. A Code You.

When we were lost, He did more than just lock a store down. When we were beyond all hope he did more than sprint to the parking lot. He sent his son to the cross for us, to rescue us. And, he speaks this message in a thousand ways every day. He would move the mountains and the cosmos if it meant we came home safe. If it meant we returned to the father and he could stop saying, “Code Adam, Code Adam.”

That’s what I hope we all remember this Christmas.

The reason for the season is a rescue.

Judah, David, Paul and Me

The repetition of redemption.

by Jon Acuff at Stuff Christians Like

Sometimes, I treat God like a gun.

When I want to approach him, when I feel the need to be close to him, I imagine there is a waiting period, much like buying a handgun.

I can’t go right in. I need to string together a good week first. I need a month of clean living. I need to not look at porn or lie or get angry or any other long list of sins for at least a few weeks before I go back to where he is.

In my head, I imagine that God wants me to return to him redeemed. The prodigal son did not just come home, he came home with a plan. And like a boss who wants me to provide solutions, not just problems, I must do the same.

This is how I think sometimes, when the world is quiet and I’ve already read all the shampoo bottles in the shower and there is nothing else to distract me. And I have thought this way for years. But, I think this might be wrong.

I’m starting to believe this because the Bible is such an overwhelmingly powerful redemption story. That is the drumbeat message that sounds out again and again and again.

One of my favorite examples is the story of Judah. He was one of the older brothers of Joseph. And his life, like many of the lives we see chronicled in the Bible, was a mess.

He sold his brother into slavery. This is a tremendous act of betrayal that sometimes gets lost in the general wildness of the Old Testament. But think about it this way, have you ever had a fight with a family member? You gossiped about them or missed their kid’s recital or some other offense? It was tense and ugly and made Thanksgiving a little awkward. But you didn’t sell them into slavery. You might have sworn in front of their kids too many times, but you didn’t make some cash by selling their body to some slave traders in Ohio.

The second part of Judah’s life is even less glamorous. He’s the worst parent on the planet. I know your kids might lose the chapstick top in the car all the time and probably make a Mexican restaurant just look disgusting, like a grenade of rice and chips went off, or they refuse to put their shoes on at the most inopportune times, but they’re better than Judah’s kids. I promise.

Here’s what we’re told in Genesis 38, which is one chapter after Judah has sold his brother into slavery. (Is there a worse double header in the Bible for anybody?)

“But Er, Judah’s firstborn, was wicked in the Lord’s sight; so the Lord put him to death.”

How bad do you have to be for God to just kill you? Just flat out kill you? If it happens once, Er was just a punk. Maybe it wasn’t the parenting. Maybe Judah was not to blame for some of the problem. Oh, but then we come to Judah’s second son. And, “What he did was wicked in the Lord’s sight; so the Lord put him to death also.”

I don’t care if you think you’re a horrible parent, you’ve never had God say, “Wow, I didn’t even know that level of wickedness is possible. I need to take that one out. Yikes!”

So far, Judah is not that much of a hero and the third strike is possibly the worst.

In the same chapter the Lord has killed two of his kids, Judah goes to a prostitute. (We’re not even told he mourned the loss of his kids.) He sleeps with her and gives her some items as a down payment. Only it’s his daughter in law in disguise and she gets pregnant. When he hears she is pregnant, and does not realize he is the father, he proclaims, “Bring her out and have her burned to death!”

Is there anything more vocal and neon than the righteousness of folks leading secret lives? He wants to kill her. His daughter in law, who he failed by not finding her a husband. He wants to burn her.

This is Judah. A failure. A mess up. A train wreck of Biblical proportions. But he is not alone.

King David murdered a man after having an affair with his wife and ended up getting a village of priests killed because of his lies.

Gideon was hiding in a hole from his enemies when God approached him.

Paul held the coats of the people who stoned Stephen.

Peter denied Christ three times after promising undying love.

Moses was a murderer.

Adam and Eve broke the only law they had.

Samson took a blessing of strength and corrupted it.

The list of lives God redeems in the Bible is long and exhaustive. If the Bible was just a book, a publisher would read it and say, “It’s a bit repetitive. Lot of people getting redeemed over and over again.” If the Bible was a song on American Idol, Simon would say, “We get it. You like redemption. That performance felt a bit indulgent.”

Over and over again we see it, and we see it clearly in the final chapters of Judah’s life. When faced with the prospect of losing his younger brother Benjamin, Judah puts himself in harms way:

Then Judah said to Israel his father, “Send the boy along with me and we will go at once, so that we and you and our children may live and not die. I myself will guarantee his safety; you can hold me personally responsible for him. If I do not bring him back to you and set him here before you, I will bear the blame before you all my life.”

Can that be? Is that really Judah? Where is that nobility coming from? How did he change And what does it mean for me?

I think it means we serve a God who loves redemption more than we can possibly imagine. We may feel disqualified for his mercy. We may feel too dirty for his grace. We may feel only a series of white knuckle works will open back up his gates.

But, that’s not what his love letter says. We are not shown a steady parade of heroes who became even more heroic in the hands of God. We are shown a parade of failures who found forgiveness. Losers who found love. Hopeless who found hope.

Christmas is a loud season, but hopefully, you’ll hear the real song.

It’s one of redemption. My redemption. Your redemption. Our redemption.

The God who loved Judah and David and Paul, loves you. And that’s a very redeeming thought.

Calvin and I both make excuses for our Behavior!!