Hold Out Hope

In the days of King Herod of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly order of Abijah. His wife was a descendant of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. Both of them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord. But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren, and they both were getting on in years. (Luke 1:5-7 NRSV)

Zechariah and Elizabeth had done it the right way. They were both "righteous before God" and "living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord" (v. 6). That's just another way of saying that they had done the right things in the right ways for a long time, and it didn't pan out for them — at least not in the way or time they had hoped. Their obedience was not an exemption from heartache. Their righteous living was not a guarantee that every longing was met. They lived many long years with their longing for children unfulfilled. That's hard — really, really hard.

When we meet Zechariah and Elizabeth, they are old. We don't see their conversations over the years about their inability to have children. We don't see their tears. We don't know who and what they blamed. We are told only that they are old, they have done the right things, and they have no children. No doubt they thought they had missed their chance on many things they had seen their friends and relatives enjoy.

And yet they held out hope — hope in a God who was bigger than their circumstances; hope for a future that was more than they could see and experience. That in itself can be hard as well.

So often things don't go the way I want in the time that I want. Sometimes it's everyday stuff like missing an evening with my family because I can't get home from work. Other times it's bigger than that, such as learning again that I have not measured up professionally or personally or continuing in cycles of anxiety that I can't seem to break. It happens all the time — this life not going as ordered or desired.

When I want to throw in the towel, I am reminded of people like Zechariah and Elizabeth who held out hope. They remind me that I'm not too old for something great to happen. For that matter, I'm not too young, either. Zechariah and Elizabeth don't give us any reason to take our names off the list of those who can encounter and be used by God. They don't give us permission to allow decade-long disappointments to become reasons to hide our heads in the sand. Because they held out hope.

If you have reasons for disqualifying yourself from encountering Jesus in a real, life-changing way, it's time to look at the Christmas story again. If you feel you have missed your chance, remember that God comes in ways we don't expect. Let go of the idea that God has passed you by. The Christmas story gives us no precedent for that kind of thinking. Instead, it begs us to hold out hope as disappointment rears its head again. This Christmas, instead of longing for another present, let's wipe the crust off our aging hearts and continue to long for a God who always holds out hope for us.

Reconciling God, give me strength to face my unmet expectations and disappointments with hope. Remind me that you know and care for me even when I feel as if I've been forgotten. I am looking and listening for you now. Amen.

Claimed by God

The angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God." (Luke 1:30 NRSV)

Not far from where I live there is a store that sells unclaimed baggage. These are the suitcases, duffel bags, and other packages that were left on lonely baggage claim conveyor belts and never picked up. They served their time at the airport, patiently waiting for their owners to return, but they were never claimed. Thousands and thousands of bags arrive at the store, and their contents are sold at discount prices. It is a strange sight, really — all these items that once belonged to people now forgotten and left behind.

I often am surprised by how many people I talk to who don't feel much different than these discarded suitcases. People who, from my vantage point, are beautiful, successful, talented, and intelligent can feel very little worth. I talked recently with a friend I have admired for many years, and as he talked I couldn't believe what a skewed view of himself he has. He is amazing, but he can't see it — at least he couldn't then. But it's not just other people. I am surprised how often I can feel less than and insecure — and I just plain know better.

I love how the angel spoke to Mary. His first words to her were, "You have found favor with God" (Luke 1:30 NRSV). In other words, you have great worth to God. God has chosen you. Then the angel urged her not to be afraid. God, the angel said, is honoring you.

We are familiar with Mary, the mother of Jesus, being honored. She is one of the most revered figures in human history. But she must have thought, "Me? Highly favored? God is honoring me?" Mary first gave some reasons why this couldn't be so, but then she accepted it. She accepted that she was favored or honored by God.

This story shouldn't cause us to see Mary as superhuman or as one among a group of rare individuals God desires. Instead, her normalcy and humble disposition should lead us to see ourselves. And as we see ourselves in her ordinariness, we then must open our hearts to hear God call us favored and honored.

I wish I could relive that conversation with my friend. I would grab him by the arm and say, "You are loved and favored by God."

Don't be afraid; God is looking to honor you by including you in the great story of reconciliation. If you feel like unclaimed baggage today — going round and round on the conveyor belt, overlooked and unwanted — try to stop and hear God's words of worth. They aren't just for Mary; they are for you too.

God, today when I feel insecure, please remind me of my great worth to you. When I feel ordinary, remind me that is precisely the kind of person you desire and use. When I feel unclaimed, assure me of the claim you have on me. Amen.

Flip the Script

Just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit."

(Matthew 1:20 NRSV)

One of the things I love to do this time of year is watch classic Christmas movies.

In How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the Grinch's heart is three sizes too small; so he sneaks into Who-ville in the middle of the night and steals all the Christmas presents — not only the presents but also the decorations, the trees, and the roast beast. The next morning Who-ville awakens to find that everything representing Christmas is gone.

In A Christmas Story, young Ralphie has been dreaming of one thing alone: a Red Ryder BB gun. He wakes up on Christmas morning and unwraps two presents, only to discover socks and a pink bunny costume. And he's even forced to put on the costume.

In It's a Wonderful Life, George Bailey's Christmas is even worse. After a major financial disaster at the building and loan he manages, he thinks his family would be better off without him. So he goes to the edge of town to jump off a bridge. He's ready to end it all and wishes he was never born, but then an angel grants his wish and shows him what life what would have been like without him. He realizes the impact he had on others and wants to return to his life, but he's afraid it may be too late.

As I recount each plot, we can grin and even feel a sense of excitement because we know that's not how the story ends. We know the ending, and so we anticipate what is coming next.

In each movie, the writers flip the script just when we can't take it anymore. The Grinch hears the Whos singing, his heart begins to grow, and Christmas is restored. Ralphie's dad motions him toward one more gift behind the tree — one even mom doesn't know about — and he unwraps the Red Ryder BB gun. The whole town shows up at George Bailey's home with money to pay the debt he owes, showing that they believe in him. A bell rings, and an angel gets his wings.

Every good Christmas movie has the element of some deep longing that is not only met but also exceeded. Why? Because the first Christmas story is full of such moments. God is in the business of flipping scripts that seemed doomed for despair.

Joseph's dreams are crushed when he learns that his fiancée, Mary, is pregnant and the child is not his. All his plans come crashing to the ground. Joseph plans to divorce her quietly and pick up the pieces of his life. Then God flips the script.

In a dream an angel tells Joseph that the child is from God and that he will be the one who saves his people from their sins. Didn't see that coming.

So, when all the gifts are stolen (even the tree and the roast beast); when the gifts are opened and you are left wearing a bunny suit; when you've lost your business, your family, and your history — remember that God is waiting to speak to you in a dream and reconcile the things that are broken, making them whole again. It's what God does. God reconciles us and then sends us into his story to help reconcile others.

God, when everything seems headed for disaster, remind me that you are with me and can make a way when I can't. Give me trust, hope, and anticipation of the good you can make of my messes. Amen.

We Still Need Jesus

Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah

A voice was heard in Ramah,
wailing and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
she refused to be consoled, because they are no more."

(Matthew 2:17-18 NRSV)

I reluctantly walked into the gym, stepped onto the treadmill, put my headphones in my ears, and tried to start Monday off right. As I began to walk, I connected the headphones to the treadmill and selected one of the TV screens in front of me. Before I could even turn the sound up, my eyes were drawn to a breaking news banner on the bottom of the screen. It said that 126 were dead in a school shooting. I took a breath and wiped the sleep out of my eyes. I stopped the treadmill. The audio in my ears told me the beginning details of a brutal massacre in Pakistan.

At the same time a moving scroller on the bottom of the TV screen announced that a school system in Pennsylvania was shut down because an armed man was on the loose.

Almost simultaneously my phone vibrated with a message giving details about a memorial service for a beloved teacher in our community who had died after a valiant fight with cancer. She left behind her husband and two boys. We would hold the service in the gym of the school where she taught and where our church worships.

It was the week before Christmas, and that night I was planning to attend yet another festive holiday celebration. I was supposed to feel cheery, but I wanted to take my earphones out, close my eyes, and throw my phone across the room. Yet I know as well as you do that you can't close your eyes and ears well enough to shut out the pain of this world.

It helps me to remember that the world Jesus entered was not unlike ours. In fact, the first Christmas took place in a time when innocent children were being killed. The first Christmas took place in a time when evil men did evil things. The first Christmas took place during a week when all in the community were crying together. The world needed Jesus then, and we still need Jesus now.

We usually skip over this verse in the Christmas story about children being killed and mothers weeping for their children, but it's there. When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the magi, he was furious and gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and the vicinity who were two years old and under. It is a terrible scene in the Christmas story, but it is a part of the story nonetheless.

We can't forget that Jesus came into a world in desperate need not only of a beautiful scene but also of a savior. Jesus was sent to reconcile broken hearts and broken people in a broken world. We don't have to look far to be reminded that our world is broken. Thanks be to God that Jesus has come to us and will come again.

Today as we remember how Jesus was sent to us, let us consider to whom we are being sent as his messengers.

God, I am so grateful that you hear my weeping and grieving. Thank you for sending Jesus into the world to meet each one of us in our brokenness. I need him today. Amen.

Jesus Is Sent for All

The angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for see — I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people."

(Luke 2:10 NRSV)

I often wonder about the word all in this verse. God's good news is good news of great joy for all people. At first it seems easy to believe the good news is for all people; but when we look at the way most of us dole out love and mercy, we must admit we're really quite selective with it. The truth is that it's hard to believe the good news is for everybody. In fact, it's overwhelming to consider it.

It reminds me of the times when my wife comes into the living room after I have been playing with my three daughters. Let me set the scene. We have the Legos out, and we are eating popcorn. A fort has been built out of couch cushions, and there are some items scattered on the floor that were displaced when we were wrestling near the coffee table. We've read some books and done a little homework, and there is evidence that some leftover Halloween candy has been eaten. It probably has taken us only twenty minutes to create this scene. Then in walks Rachel, and she pronounces, "All right, guys, we have to pick all this stuff up."

Immediately we want to know what she means by all.

You mean the Legos and the popcorn? Yes. And the couch-cushion fort? Yes. And the mess from wrestling? Yes. The books? The homework? The candy wrappers? Yes, yes, yes. We realize that when she said all this stuff, what she meant was all this stuff. It's a little overwhelming. All is overwhelming.

In God's story we hear that the good news of reconciliation is for all the people, and we wonder what God means by all.

The people who look like us? Yes. The people who don't? Yes. The old people who seem to have been passed by? Yes. The pregnant teenage moms? Yes. The young men who have a plan but then life takes a crazy turn? Yes. The rich folks who seem to have it all figured out but are dying on the inside? Yes. The working folks, such as third-shift shepherds? Yes.

The good news of reconciliation is for all of these people. We look at one another and realize that what God meant by all was all, and it is a little overwhelming. But it is good news!

God has good news of great joy to share, and it is for everybody. On the first Christmas, the message was shouted from the skies, and we should shout it too. Amazingly, the way God gets the message out is through us. We become like the angels in the story who go and tell all the people that Jesus has come — for all. Jesus was sent into the world to reconcile all people to God, and we are being sent into the world to share this message with all the people God puts before us.

Where is God sending you today? To whom is God sending you?

Send me, O God, with the good news of great joy of this season — the news of reconciliation. Jesus has come and is coming. May I join the angels in proclaiming it to all the people you put before me. Amen.

Already Good

The Lord is the Spirit, and where the Lord's Spirit is, there is freedom. All of us are looking with unveiled faces at the glory of the Lord as if we were looking in a mirror. We are being transformed into that same image from one degree of glory to the next degree of glory. This comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

(2 Corinthians 3:17-18 CEB)

"Look at that cup, Sunshine! What do you think of it?" I said this because I was delighted to see the clay artwork my friend was creating. I remembered the day Sunshine would not even consider participating in the art classes we offered at the shelter, and now she was sitting at the table next to me, making pottery to sell.

"Well, you know," she responded with a modest smile and giggle, "I think it's all right. The bottom is a little uneven around the edges. It's good, though."

"Oh, I bet the teacher can help you fix that," I replied, and I invited the pottery teacher over to help make the bottom of the cup just perfect. Like any good teacher, she began offering Sunshine ways she could smooth out the edge with a little water, a sponge, and time. I added a bit of my knowledge as well. Sunshine extended such grace and patience to us as she listened and affirmed our words with a nod.