Everyone Needs a Home for the Holidays
Welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. (Romans 15:17)
The apostle Paul penned these words in the midst of a socially stratified society. People were not warmly received, but coolly ranked along ethnic and economic lines. But when Jesus arrives, He breaks through these lines in the most surprising and even socially offensive of ways. When He, for instance, strikes up a conversation with a Samaritan woman, she is startled, for “Jews have no dealings with Samaritans” (John 4:9).
In the Bible, a warm welcome that crosses cultural boundaries is called “hospitality.” In our world, this word has been reduced to an industry. “Hospitality” is reserved for those who can pay for a reservation at a hotel or restaurant. But in early Christian thinking, hospitality was when you welcomed someone no one else had room for. When Jesus was born, there was famously for Him “no place…in the inn” (Luke 2:7). Christians are called to make room to welcome people in, for when they do so, they are ultimately welcoming in Jesus (cf. Matthew 25:35). The full inn of Bethlehem serves as an invitation to make sure we have open homes.
One of the many things I love about Thanksgiving is that it is one of the all-too-rare moments left in our culture where biblical hospitality is on beautiful display. Families welcome relatives they have not seen in a long time into their homes. They also welcome a service member who is far away from his or her family to share a feast with them. Groups go to serve meals to the under-resourced. People are welcomed and loved as ethnic and economic barriers fall around the sight of a dressed turkey and sides.
Hospitality is not only the call of the Christian, it is endemic to the very order of creation. After all, God did not have to make room for us when He created the heavens and the earth, but He did. The very fact that God made this world for us is evidence of His hospitable heart.
As we begin this holiday season, how can you show hospitality? Who can you welcome in – not for a price or with an expectation, but simply out of love? Christ has joyfully welcomed you into His family by faith and is painstakingly preparing for you a place in eternity (cf. John 14:2). May we joyfully open our homes and hearts to bless others with broken homes and broken hearts. May we welcome others as Christ has welcomed us.
Preemptive Thankfulness
It has become a tradition on this blog during Thanksgiving week to take a moment to reflect on a Presidential Thanksgiving Proclamation. Thanksgiving is a holiday birthed by our history and in our land and, each year, the president issues a proclamation meant to focus our attention on all the reasons we have to be grateful.
This year, I’d like to take a moment to remember a Thanksgiving Proclamation that was issued after Thanksgiving on December 26, 1941 by President Franklin Roosevelt. He had issued a more traditional Thanksgiving Proclamation on November 8 of that same year, but then, in light of the vicious December 7 attack on Pearl Harbor that lurched us into World War II, President Roosevelt felt the need to issue a second Thanksgiving Proclamation. It read thusly:
“It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord.” Across the uncertain ways of space and time our hearts echo those words, for the days are with us again when, at the gathering of the harvest, we solemnly express our dependence upon Almighty God. The final months of this year, now almost spent, find our Republic and the nations joined with it waging a battle on many fronts for the preservation of liberty. In giving thanks for the greatest harvest in the history of our nation, we who plant and reap can well resolve that in the year to come we will do all in our power to pass that milestone; for by our labors in the fields we can share some part of the sacrifice with our brothers and sons who wear the uniform of the United States. It is fitting that we recall now the reverent words of George Washington, “Almighty God, we make our earnest prayer that Thou wilt keep the United States in Thy holy protection,” and that every American in his own way lift his voice to heaven. I recommend that all of us bear in mind this great Psalm:
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me I the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou annointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Inspired with faith and courage by these words, let us turn again to the work that confronts us in this time of national emergency: in the Armed Services and the Merchant Marine; in factories and offices; on farms and in the mines; on highways, railways and airways; in other places of public service to the nation; and in our homes. Now, therefore, I, Franklin D. Roosevelt, President of the United States of America, do hereby invite the attention of the people to the joint resolution of Congress approved December 26, 1941, which designates the fourth Thursday in November of each year as Thanksgiving Day and I request that both Thanksgiving Day, November 26, 1942, and New Year’s Day, January 1, 1943, be observed in prayer, publicly and privately.
Shortly after Thanksgiving Day 1941 and what was at that point the worst attack on American soil in its history, President Roosevelt issued a proclamation already looking forward to Thanksgiving Day 1942 – nearly a year in advance.
Such a proclamation might, at first, seem tone-deaf. After all, who feels thankful when mourning so much loss, as Americans were after Pearl Harbor? Such a proclamation might also feel premature. After all, by the time Thanksgiving Day 1942 rolled around, wouldn’t the president’s proclamation from the close of 1941 have been long since forgotten? But, despite such concerns, this proclamation was needed.
Gratitude is needed most when history does its worst. For it is at these moments that gratitude focuses us – not so much on what we do or do not have, but on the One to whom we are called to be thankful. Gratitude needs an object. And, as President Roosevelt reminds us in his declaration, the object of our gratitude is rightly God.
It is no secret that 2021 has been a trying year. A pandemic has worn on longer than any of us desired or expected. Political, social, and cultural unrest, upheaval, and distrust have run rampant. And our economic future feels uncertain. How should we respond to times like these? Let’s take a page from President Roosevelt’s book and be preemptively thankful. Thankfulness is not a product of our circumstances, but an orientation of our hearts toward the One who receives our thanks.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Permitting and Preventing Suffering
Last week on this blog, I referenced Job and his yearning for resurrection after all the suffering he had experienced. Resurrection to new life after and apart from all the trials and pain we encounter in this life is our ultimate hope. But in the meantime, we still need strength to endure the trials and pain we encounter in this life.
At the beginning of Job’s story, Satan accuses this righteous man before God of only living for God because of what he gets from God:
Does Job fear God for nothing? Have You not put a hedge around him and his household and everything he has? You have blessed the work of his hands, so that his flocks and herds are spread throughout the land. But now stretch out Your hand and strike everything he has, and he will surely curse You to Your face. (Job 1:9-11)
In response, God, instead of striking Job, leaves it to Satan, but adds one critical caveat:
Everything he has is in your power, but on the man himself do not lay a finger. (Job 1:12)
God sets up a tension with these words. At the same time He permits suffering, He also prevents suffering. Later, when Satan wants to kill Job, God responds:
He is in your hands; but you must spare his life. (Job 2:6)
Again, God permits suffering while also preventing suffering – the ending of Job’s life.
When we suffer, this tension can give us tenacity. While we may remain confused as to why God permits some suffering, we can also rest assured that God is also preventing some suffering. The trouble we have when God prevents suffering is that we don’t know that God has prevented it because we never had to endure it. But even if we cannot immediately know or see when God has prevented suffering, we can be thankful that God does, in fact, prevent suffering. He has told us He does in Job’s story.
It is tempting for us to complain and even curse God when He permits suffering. But as with Job, when God permits suffering, He also has a purpose in suffering. In Job’s case, when he refuses to curse God amid his pain, Satan is proven wrong. His accusation against Job – that Job loves God only because of what God has given him – goes down in defeat. Thus, the suffering that Satan brings on Job is the same suffering that defeats his accusation against Job. So it is with Christ. The suffering that Satan delighted in when Jesus was in agony on a cross is the same suffering that defeated him – along with sin and death – when Christ died on the cross.
May we, in our suffering, pray for God’s purpose when God permits it and give thanks to God when He prevents it. He really does know what He’s doing.
Not Much Lasts Forever
Whenever I was encountering a tough time as a child, my mother used to remind me, “Not much lasts forever.” Though it was hard for me to believe or see at the time, she was right. The problems that seemed to be such a big deal when I was in grade school, middle school, or high school are now just distant memories – and, in many cases, not even memories at all. I have forgotten about most of the things I was once upon a time so upset about.
Perhaps the most famous story in the Bible of a tough time belongs to a man named Job. His story opens with him as the richest man around, but then, through a series of Satanic-inspired calamities, he loses his wealth, his family, and his health. He wonders out loud if he will even lose his life:
A man dies and is laid low; he breathes his last and is no more. As the water of a lake dries up or a riverbed becomes parched and dry, so he lies down and does not rise. (Job 14:10-12)
As Job ponders death, he, at first, indicates that death would be a tough time that would last forever. When a person dies, after all, “he breathes his last and is no more” and “he lies down and does not rise.” Death, Job seemingly indicates, is permanent.
But Job is not quite done yet. After Job speaks of how a man, in death, “lies down and does not rise,” he continues:
…till the heavens are no more, people will not awake or be roused from their sleep. (Job 14:12)
Death, Job says, comes with a “till.” Death will last “till” the heavens are no more. But what about after the heavens are no more? The apostle Peter helps us:
The day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything done in it will be laid bare. But in keeping with His promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells. (2 Peter 3:10, 13)
After the heavens disappear, Peter promises that there will be a new heavens and a new earth – along with a new us. We will be raised from death. For, as my mother reminded me, not much lasts forever – not even death.
Job asks:
If someone dies, will they live again? (Job 14:14)
Peter answers Job’s question with a resounding, “Yes.”
Anger and Patience
Jesus’ words on anger in His Sermon on the Mount are incredibly challenging:
You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, “You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.” But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment. (Matthew 5:21-22)
In His words, Jesus connects a feeling – that of anger – to a felony – the crime of murder.
These words are not just challenging for us in our context, where societal anger is on display on social media, on cable news, and in the streets and where personal anger can be found in homes, in workplaces, and in relationships across this nation, these words have been challenging ever since Jesus uttered them.
We see just how challenging Jesus’ words have been in an interesting textual variant found in some of the ancient manuscripts of Jesus’ sermon. Some manuscripts add the phrase “without cause” to Jesus’ words:
I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister without cause will be subject to judgment. (Matthew 5:22)
Though these words, according to the best textual evidence we have, were almost certainly not original, they are widespread among the ancient manuscripts. It seems that even in antiquity, people thought that a prohibition against being angry with someone without qualification was a bridge too far. But when we are angry, none of us believe our anger is “without cause.” We all believe our anger is justified or even necessary. Jesus reminds us that it’s not. Anger is not the answer to offense.
Solomon once wrote:
A hot-tempered person stirs up conflict, but the one who is patient calms a quarrel. (Proverbs 15:18)
When we are tempted to become angry, patience is the key. For patience can produce what anger never can – peace. Patience can diffuse a situation instead of escalating it. And patient is what God was with us. In our sin, He waited for us to turn to Him in repentance.
Anger may make us feel better for a while, but patience can make the world better for the long haul.
When the Heavens Open
The prophet Isaiah requests of the Lord:
Oh, that You would tear open the heavens and come down. (Isaiah 64:1)
As Isaiah makes his request, he is remembering when God met with Moses on Mount Sinai, giving him His law, and the mountain trembled in fire and smoke:
When You did awesome things that we did not expect, You came down, and the mountains trembled before You. (Isaiah 64:3)
Though the people trembled when God gave His law, they did not obey His law, and so God has hidden Himself from people:
All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away. No one calls on Your name or strives to lay hold of You; for You have hidden Your face from us and have given us over to our sins. (Isaiah 64:6-7)
Because of Israel’s sin, rather than rending open the heavens and coming down, God has closed up the heavens and gone home. So, Isaiah ruefully asks:
How then can we be saved? (Isaiah 64:5)
Around 730 years after Isaiah mourns God’s hiddenness in heaven, the Gospel writer Mark records:
Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, He saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on Him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are My Son, whom I love; with You I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:9-11)
In Christ, the heavens are torn open once again as God returns to His people once again. But that is not all that is torn.
When Christ dies on a cross, Mark recounts this scene:
The curtain of the temple was torn open in two from top to bottom. (Mark 15:38)
The curtain in question is the curtain that guarded the Holy of Holies – the place where the ancient Israelites believed God dwelled. When Christ died, it was torn open so God’s inner sanctum could be seen by all and any.
It turns out that God does eventually answer Isaiah’s prayer. But He answers the prophet’s prayer in a greater way than he could have ever imagined. Not only does God tear open the heavens and come down, as is revealed when Jesus is baptized, He also tears open the curtain to His own inner sanctum so that we may go in, as is revealed at Jesus’ death. Because of the cross, we can walk right into the place of salvation.
The heavens that once separated us and God separate us no more. God is with us – and, one day, we will be with Him.
Listening to Jesus
It can be difficult to listen to Jesus – especially when you don’t like what He has to say. Peter learned this lesson firsthand when Jesus prophesied that:
He must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that He must be killed and on the third day be raised to life. Peter took Him aside and began to rebuke Him. “Never, Lord!” he said. “This shall never happen to you!” Jesus turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to Me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” (Matthew 16:21-23)
Peter could not fathom that the man he thought to be the Messiah would have to suffer and die. He struggled to hear what Jesus had to say.
Six days after this exchange between Peter and Jesus, Jesus takes Peter, along with James and John, up a mountain where His appearance is transfigured. Moses and Elijah appear along with Jesus and a voice booms from heaven:
“This is my Son, whom I love; with Him I am well pleased. Listen to Him!” (Matthew 17:5)
“Listen to Him.”
After just struggling to listen to Jesus, Peter needed a reminder. We do, too, because we can struggle to listen to Jesus, too. Do we struggle to listen to Jesus when He tells us:
To love our enemies? (Matthew 5:44)
To keep not only our actions, but our hearts, pure? (Matthew 5:28)
To not hold too tightly to the treasures of this world? (Matthew 6:19)
That He loves us unconditionally, even when we feel valueless or unlovable? (Luke 12:7)
The Gospel writer John opens His Gospel by calling Jesus “the Word” (John 1:1). With a title like this, it stands to reason that Jesus has a lot to say. Which means that we have a lot to learn from Him.So, even when it’s hard, let’s listen to Him. What He says matters.
Real Grace for Real Sinners
Whenever the topic of sin comes up in a Bible study or conversation, I have a friend who will joke: “Since we’re talking about sin, how about we all tell each other the worst thing we’ve ever done.” He always gets a laugh, but it’s always a bit of a nervous laugh. I’m don’t think many of us – or, let’s be honest, any of us – are comfortable being forthcoming about the worst thing we think we’ve ever done.
Sin is strange like this. We will speak freely in generalities about how we are sinful, but when someone asks us to get specific – especially about the sins that most embarrass us – we fall silent. We may be comfortable with the idea of being a sinner in general because we know that everyone sins, but when it comes to our specific sins, we can sometimes worry that we’re the only one who has ever done what we have done. And, if people found out what we have done, they would reject us in disgust.
In 1544, a dear friend of Martin Luther’s named George Spalatin offered some advice to a local pastor who wanted to know whether it would be permissible to preside over the wedding of a man who wanted to marry the stepmother of his deceased wife. Spalatin gave this pastor the green light to perform the wedding. When Luther found out about the guidance Spalatin had given, he was aghast and harshly criticized Spalatin.
After being criticized by his dear friend and mentor, Spalatin fell into a deep depression because he assumed that he had committed a grievous sin that could not be forgiven. When Luther found out about his friend’s despondency, he wrote him a letter where he reiterated to his friend that though he thought his advice was wrongheaded and sinful, he himself was not unforgivable:
The devil has plucked from your heart all the beautiful Christian sermons concerning the grace and mercy of God in Christ by which you used to teach, admonish, and comfort others with a cheerful spirit and a great, buoyant courage. Or it must surely be that heretofore you have been only a trifling sinner, conscious only of paltry and insignificant faults and frailties. Therefore, my faithful request and admonition is that you join our company and associate with us, who are real, great, and hard-boiled sinners. You must by no means make Christ to seem paltry and trifling to us, as though He could be our helper only when we want to be rid from imaginary, nominal, and childish sins. No, no! That would not be good for us. He must rather be a Savior and Redeemer from real, great, grievous, and damnable transgressions and iniquities, yea, from the very greatest and most shocking sins; to be brief, from all sins added together in a grand total.
Luther reminds Spalatin that there is no sin for which Christ did not die. There is no mistake – even the mistake of poor pastoral advice – that Christ cannot forgive. This means that the worst thing we have ever done is not beyond the reach of grace that comes from God’s one and only Son. We don’t need to be afraid of our biggest sins because we have an even bigger Savior.
So, what is the worst thing you’ve ever done? What sin would you prefer to keep secret? Don’t let that sin shame you into staying away from Jesus. Don’t let that sin shame you into hiding from others. If Christ can handle the world’s sins, He can handle your worst. He wants to. Because He loves you.
Who Do You Wear? And Who Wears You?
At red carpet events where stars show up and don their sometimes eccentric and other times striking outfits, there is a question that has become a staple for reporters to ask when these stars first flash their fashion for the cameras: Who are you wearing?
For most of us, people don’t care what we wear much less who we wear. But when an outfit costs tens of thousands or, mind-bogglingly, perhaps even hundreds of thousands of dollars, people want to know which designer can command such a sky-high price.
One of the most mind-boggling outfits in the ancient world was the one worn by the high priest of ancient Israel. God gives instructions for the design of the high priest’s outfit to Moses:
Have Aaron your brother brought to you from among the Israelites, along with his sons Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar, so they may serve Me as priests. Make sacred garments for your brother Aaron to give him dignity and honor. These are the garments they are to make: a breastpiece, an ephod, a robe, a woven tunic, a turban and a sash. Have them use gold, and blue, purple and scarlet yarn, and fine linen. (Exodus 28:1-3, 5)
The pièce de résistance of the high priest’s garb came in the breastpiece he would wear:
Fashion a breastpiece for making decisions – the work of skilled hands. Make it like the ephod: of gold, and of blue, purple and scarlet yarn, and of finely twisted linen. Then mount four rows of precious stones on it. The first row shall be carnelian, chrysolite and beryl; the second row shall be turquoise, lapis lazuli and emerald; the third row shall be jacinth, agate and amethyst; the fourth row shall be topaz, onyx and jasper. Mount them in gold filigree settings. There are to be twelve stones, one for each of the names of the sons of Israel, each engraved like a seal with the name of one of the twelve tribes. (Exodus 28:15, 17-21)
This breastpiece tells us who the high priest wore – he wore Israel. His breastpiece had twelve stones that represented the twelve tribes of Israel. He would stand as an advocate for the people before God, and to present the people to God. His breastpiece reminded everyone in Israel that he wore the people proudly.
One of my most treasured possessions is my wedding ring. I wear it as a symbol, much like the high priest with his bejeweled breastpiece, that I am proud to be Melody’s husband. My ring reminds me that I am wear her as my wife at the same time I hold her in my heart. Likewise, I am deeply touched when I see Melody’s wedding ring on her finger because it is a symbol that Melody is proud to my wife. She wears me as her husband at the same time she holds me in her heart.
Who do you wear? Who are you proud of? Who do you speak of often? Who do you hold in your heart? And who wears you? We all need someone to wear us – not because we are some renowned designer, but because being worn proudly and being spoken of fondly by someone means being loved by them. And love looks good on all of us.
Love. Period.
One of the things I’m committed to saying freely in our home is, “I love you.” I want my wife and my kids to have no doubt about how much I love them. I even made up a little song – not a good song, but a song nonetheless – that I will often sing to my kids at bedtime telling them about my love for them.
But the other day, my daughter asked me a question that stopped me in my tracks. “Daddy,” she said looking up at me with her signature sweet smile, “why do you love me?”
Now, there are many things I love about my daughter.
I love the way she laughs at my corny dad jokes.
I love how academically adept and interested she is.
I love how she leans in to kiss me on the cheek.
There are many things I love about my daughter. But even though these are things I love about my daughter, these are not the reasons why I love my daughter. I wouldn’t love her any less if she stopped laughing at my jokes, although I might question her sense of humor. I wouldn’t love her any less if she began to struggle in school. And I wouldn’t love her any less if, perhaps one day, the kisses she gives me on the cheek become fewer and farther between, although, admittedly, that will make me sad.
I just love my daughter. Period. That’s all there is to it.
One of the deepest lies we tell ourselves about love is this: “I am loved because…”
I am loved because I am successful.
I am loved because I am smart.
I am loved because I am good-looking.
I am loved because I am spiritual.
The reason this is such a deep and damnable lie is because, if we lose any of these things – our success, our smarts, our looks, or even if our faith begins to falter – we’ll believe that we have lost love, too, because we’ll believe that we no longer have what it takes to get others to love us. Which leaves us feeling alone. And hurting. And broken. And hopeless. And worthless.
In the gospel, Christ says, “I love you. Period. There’s no ‘because’ behind My love. My love finds its delight in your sheer existence. There is nothing you can do that will destroy My love for you.” Or, as Paul puts it:
I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39)
That’s the kind of love we all secretly long for. That’s the kind of love we all fundamentally need. For what we do and who we are inevitably ebbs and flows over time. True and lasting love, then, cannot come with a “because.” And Christ’s love for you does not.
He loves you. Period.
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