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Out Of the Compost Heap

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By Linda Rex

This morning I was researching information on the Nashville Metro government website about brush pickup and recycling. I came across an interesting document on composting.

I’m quite familiar with composting. My mom and dad were quite religious about having a compost pile in the backyard to use with their organic gardening projects. They were gifted at taking a desert or wilderness and turning it into a garden. Part of the process involved taking what most people throw in the trash and using it to fertilize their plants through the process of composting.

Their companions in this process were worms of various types. The article I was reading told about a way I could create a home for red worms, who would in return for this privilege decompose my kitchen scraps. Worms are amazing creatures—they take what is decomposing and turn it into valuable elements for the soil, so new things can grow.

It seems we as humans avoid death and dying, and decomposition, as much as possible. We fear death—creating whole industries in an effort to avoid or delay the decomposition and decay of our bodies, even though this is the natural process of our physical form. We have an inherent desire to live and to endure.

What’s interesting is that we are drawn toward health and healing, toward wellness, while at the same time we live and make choices in ways which actually hasten the destruction of our bodies. We are a mess of complications, and we struggle in various ways to be sound of mind, body, and emotions.

The same is often true of our inner selves. The inner drive of our being is to live—to experience the fullness of life in this body—to really know another and to be truly known and loved. And we seek it in a variety of ways—in our experiences, in our relationships, in our indulgences, and in the goals we strive toward. We may do things we know probably aren’t wise just because we are driven by this inner longing.

In all our seeking of life, we may find ourselves held captive by those things we have hoped would bring us life and happiness. It seems death always finds a way of creeping in and ruining our hopes and dreams, and the pleasures of this life.

If death and dying, and decomposition, are a natural part of our human existence, perhaps we should reconsider how we approach our life. The Bible tells us our God, who is Father, Son, and Spirit, made all things including us as human beings out of nothing. And we had the opportunity to share in their existence by eating of the tree of life, but we chose to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. God told Adam our choice (and I say ours, because we all invariably make this choice in our natural humanity) leads to death.

Death, rather than life, became the governing force in our cosmos. All things eventually come to an end and begin decomposing into the more basic elements of the universe, to become part of something new. The miracle is in the becoming something new—for apart from the sustaining hand of God himself, the cosmos would return to the nothingness from which it came.

God did not want all things to return to nothing—he made something very good and wanted it to remain and flourish. God did what needed to be done, for only God can bring to life what is dead and dying. Only God can make something out of nothing.

So, God took on our broken and dying humanity—he came into our existence to live as we live, and to die our death, experiencing the worst of human depravity in the process. This death Jesus went through on our behalf was for a purpose—to raise us, and all that he had made, up into new life.

Before we can have new life, there has to be an ending of the old life. Jesus described this in John 12:24-25: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it to life eternal.” Just as in Jesus our old way of being died on the cross and was buried, so in Jesus our new life rose and walked out of the tomb. We have new life in our Lord Jesus Christ, but we need to embrace it and live it out.

Death is never the end now. Decomposition is merely the next step in our broken human existence after we die. But Christ has done what the little red worm could only do as a shadow of his perfection—he has taken our death and turned it into life. He has made all things new. There is a new life awaiting on the other side of death. Death is not our enemy, nor is it something to be feared. Now it is only a gateway to glory—as we trust in Christ and what he has done and will do for us in our place and on our behalf.

Perhaps we need to think of those things in our life we need to be freed from as items to be placed on the compost pile. We need to toss out our old ways of thinking and acting, putting them on the pile, and allowing Christ to eliminate, renew, and restore as needed. They died with him and are really of no use to us anymore except to keep us in the stranglehold of death.

As we participate in Christ’s death, dying to old habits and ways of thinking, we make room for God to bring new life, healing, and wholeness. We will begin to see new life sprout up in us and all around us as we become more aware of and sensitive to the work of the Spirit in our lives, as he brings the risen Lord Jesus Christ to full expression within us. May we respond to God’s work—the work of the Divine Composter—as he finishes his perfect work in us through Jesus and by his Spirit.

Abba, thank you for your faithful, tender care as you work in us what you began before the cosmos was. Finish your work to heal, transform, and renew all things—and grant us the grace to respond fully and freely to you as you work out in us your salvation, through Jesus and by your precious Spirit. Amen.

“Behold, I will bring to it health and healing, and I will heal them; and I will reveal to them an abundance of peace and truth. I will restore the fortunes of Judah and the fortunes of Israel and will rebuild them as they were at first. I will cleanse them from all their iniquity by which they have sinned against Me, and I will pardon all their iniquities by which they have sinned against Me and by which they have transgressed against Me. It will be to Me a name of joy, praise and glory before all the nations of the earth which will hear of all the good that I do for them, and they will fear and tremble because of all the good and all the peace that I make for it.” Jeremiah 33:6-9 NASB

Letting the Failures Go

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By Linda Rex

Good Friday
I don’t know about you, but some days I wonder whether it was worth the effort to even get out of bed. It seems from the moment my feet hit the floor I am running backwards faster than I am moving forward. On days like this, hot tea or coffee doesn’t seem to help, and I’m hoping that the first person who comes in the door at work will pretend they don’t see me and will walk right on down the hall.

But the phone rings right then and I have to answer it. The cheerful tone in my voice is a little forced, but somehow in the middle of the conversation about who they need to talk to about what I find the capacity to genuinely serve and help someone. A silent prayer of gratitude forms in my heart—it seems there is hope for me after all, but only because of God’s grace and power.

And this is the thing about Good Friday. Here on this day we may ponder the suffering of Christ. We may read the story of him being taken into custody, having been betrayed by one of his very own followers. He did not get a good night’s rest, but spent the hours being grilled, beaten, and falsely accused of things which would never have even crossed his mind.

What really is amazing about this story is in his broken humanity, crushed by the anger and hate of fellow human beings, and weakened by the loss of blood and blows to his body, Jesus was at his strongest and most powerful. Why would I say that? Because he had access to legions of angels and to all the forces in the universe—and he did not call on them to help. What incredible strength of will and depth of humility!

In Hebrews, the writer says Jesus, “for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame…” (Heb. 12:2 NASB). He did not resist, nor did he regret, what he did in bearing up under the crucifixion. He had his heart and mind focused on the spiritual realities, securely rooted in his eternal relation with his Abba. He knew he was loved, held, and not forsaken, no matter how things appeared at the moment. And he had something he was trying to accomplish—something to complete—the destruction and removal of evil, sin, and death from our humanity and our cosmos.

What a task! To wrestle with the forces of evil requires incredible stamina of mind and will. To resist the temptation to quit or give in demands endurance and perseverance beyond our human capacity. To hang on when even the human body gives way means there was much more needed than just a human being dying on a cross when Jesus was crucified. The very presence of God himself on that cross was what was needed and what Abba gave us in sending us his Son Jesus to stand in our stead.

Because our Jesus was fully God and fully man, he conquered evil, sin, and death completely. There is nothing which was left undone in his gift of himself on the cross. He did it not because he had to, but because he chose to. He did it in love for you and for me.

So, if Jesus did such a good and complete job of conquering evil, sin, and death, why do I still struggle with my attitude and my behavior? Why do we still have people who go around shooting other people? What’s the point of what Jesus has done?

That is a really good question. I could say, Jesus set us an example of how we are to live our lives—as good people who are willing to sacrifice themselves for others. That’s a nice sentiment, but it lacks any substance. Just ask anyone who has for any length of time tried to really live the way Jesus lived—it’s really hard to do, actually next to impossible for us as humans to achieve in this life. No, there is something more going on than this.

I believe Jesus gave us as human beings the capacity to once again be truly human—to live the way we were created to live—loving God with all our being and loving our neighbors as ourselves. Jesus enabled us to be genuine in our humanity by setting us free from evil, sin, and death, and enabling us to live in intimate relationship with his Abba by his Spirit.

And there it is. We have the capacity to be truly human because of Jesus. He has joined us forever with the Being of God in his Person so we can participate in the union and communion of the Father, Son, and Spirit. Yet, it took Jesus dying, rising, and sending the Spirit for this to be worked out in each of our lives individually. We each have been given the gift of God’s Spirit and Presence but are called upon to receive this gift and participate in the life we were created for.

The process of receiving this gift resembles remarkably the events of Good Friday. The Maundy Thursday meal where Jesus offered his body as the bread and his blood as the wine, was meant to help us identify the gift which was being given—Jesus Christ himself—his life for our life, his ways for our ways, his plans for our plans.

We join Jesus in his story on Good Friday as we own the truth of our failures, our missing the mark of who we were meant to be as God’s beloved children, and we lay down our broken humanity and receive his humanity in its place. We embrace the living Christ, who dwells within by his Spirit, surrendering to his Presence and Power.

This laying down that we might rise also means tossing away our feeble efforts at becoming godlike under our own power. Indeed, facing the reality of our failures as humans is healthy and essential to the process. We need to be willing to say, “I didn’t…”, “I can’t…”, and even, “I won’t…”—to admit the truth of our resistance against all which right, true, and holy. We can boldly come to our Abba and say, because of Jesus and our intimate connection with him, “I was wrong. I should not have done that, thought that, or said that.” And we can know in that moment, we are forgiven, embraced, and held. In spite of our failures, we are loved and included in Abba’s life.

As Jesus laid in the tomb on Holy Saturday, it seemed to all those he had grown close to that all hope was lost. In the same way, we can at times be so overwhelmed by the evil, sin, and death of this human existence, we begin to believe all hope is lost. We can live blinded to what is really going on: Jesus Christ is making all things new, and we are included in that great work he is doing right now in this world. All is forgiven and healed in him, but not everyone has embraced Abba’s solution to the problem.

Indeed, God calls on you and me, once in the sacrament of baptism, often as we eat the bread and wine in communion, and moment by moment as we live our lives, to die with Christ and rise with Christ. This is the truth of our existence, so we act like it. We live as though it were true.

In this moment in front of us, we may feel like we’re still rotting in the grave, but when we take a step in faith—trusting we are instead walking out of the tomb into the bright sunlight of God’s love and grace—we’ll find, that’s exactly the case. We are forgiven. We are loved. We are held. We are truly, essentially, and fully human, as God meant us to be.

Thank you, Abba, for including us in your life and love, through your Son Jesus and by your Spirit. Grant us the grace to see how we individually and collectively participate in your story, Jesus, when you walked the road to and through death and resurrection, and to receive this gift of love and forgiveness with open hearts and hands. May we receive and live in the fullness of the gift of our true humanity in and through you, Jesus, and by your Spirit. Amen.

“Now where there is forgiveness of these things, there is no longer any offering for sin.” Hebrews 10:18 NASB

Signs of Spring

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By Linda Rex
Lent
For me, driving to the post office means taking a spin in my car through the Tennessee countryside. I get to see pretty ranches with horses and cattle, rocks and trees on the hills, and lovely homes in the valleys. I pass a pond where the ducks paddle about looking for tidbits to eat. Though right now most of the trees have no leaves and the ground is covered with brown leaves from last fall, there is still a quiet sense of beauty and the presence of God.

As I drove through the woods this morning, the road opened up to where I passed by a tall willow tree. Though the other night the tree was gray and seemed to be dripping sorrow, this morning it was covered with little green leaves. The difference was striking and quite beautiful.

On the ground nearby where grass was beginning to turn green again there were some yellow daffodils blooming their hearts out. The signs of spring were everywhere this morning. And I had to ask myself, as one who spent many a winter in southeast Iowa, what’s going to happen when it freezes again? It is only February—it’s too soon for all this!

In the story of Abraham and Sarah, we are reminded there are always signs of spring, even when the evidence tells us otherwise. God came to them when they were too old to have children, when their bodies were beyond the capacity for child-bearing, and told them Sarah would have a child. God presented them with a paradox of hope in which the only proper response would be faith—an implicit trust in the faithfulness and goodness of God.

We may find ourselves today in the winter of our lives where all our hope is dead and we don’t see any hope for new life. We may be stepping out into new ways of living and being, but all we are meeting with is opposition and resistance. And yet, it is good to be reminded these bleak and difficult times may be the very place where we experience the greatest new growth and transformation.

What we need in the midst of our winter or death and dying is hope. We need to see with the eyes of faith the evidence that spring is on its way. We need to recognize the reality that even when death is all around us, there is new life being birthed in that very moment.

During the season of Lent, we have the opportunity to reexamine the life of Christ at work within us and be reminded of how God has called us into relationship with himself in Jesus Christ. The Spirit enables us to see what is really going on in our hearts and minds, and in those areas we have turned away from Christ, he invites us to turn back again. At the basis of our examination, though, needs to be an assurance of God’s love and faithfulness to us as expressed in the gift of his Son and the pouring out of his Spirit.

We were created for life—life in close relationship with Abba and Jesus in the Spirit. The real life we were created for is a communion and oneness of being in which there is a mutual pouring out of and pouring into by each and every participant of God’s life. We make room for others as they make room for us. We make room for God as he has and does make room for us in Christ and by his Spirit.

It is the disruptions of this perichoretic life which we attend to during Lent. We may ask ourselves, “How am I participating in God’s life and love? Am I living in the truth of who I am as God’s child, made in his image? Does my life and how I live it orbit around myself, or am I keeping in step with the divine dance—receiving and giving—receiving what God pours into me and pouring it back out into God and others? In what ways should I turn away from myself and turn back to Christ and Abba, and out to those around me?”

The point of this contemplation is not to focus upon ourselves. If our examination of the life of Christ at work within us revolves around us and our failures, we have missed the point. This kind of self-examination only creates discouragement and defeat. It focuses on death and dying. And it does not attend to what really matters—the life of Christ at work within us by the Holy Spirit.

Our journey during Lent can echo Christ’s journey during his forty days in the wilderness. He was challenged by Satan to deny his identity as the Son of Man and to live out of his being as the Son of God. But Christ identified with you and me instead by choosing to live in total dependency upon his Abba by the Spirit.

This is our life. As Satan attempts to draw us away from this truth of our being, distracting us with all the ways we can live as gods and goddesses under our own steam, we can instead choose life. We can choose instead the eternal life Jesus spoke of which is the deep knowing of our Abba and the Son he sent. Instead of focusing on our failures and shortcomings, we focus on the reality Jesus stood in our place—his life for our life. We share in his perfect relationship with his Abba by the Spirit.

Instead of relying upon ourselves in self-centered living, we can live in total dependency upon Abba through Jesus in the Spirit. Satan and his ways of self-centered living are defeated foes. Death, evil, and sin may still be all around us, and still haunt the inner recesses of our mind and heart, but the true reality of our perfected humanity is hidden with Christ in God. There is life in the midst of death—hope in the midst of failure, sorrow, and defeat.

We need to attend to the signs of spring and ignore the overwhelming evidence of winter all around us. We need to walk by faith, not by sight. Christ is our life, and he lives within us by his Spirit. God is at work even now, and will not cease working to make all things new—in heaven, and on earth, and within us. And he will finish what he has begun—we have his word on this—and, thankfully, God always keeps his word. He is trustworthy.

Abba, thank you for your faithful and compassionate love. Thank you for your boundless grace expressed to us in the gift of your Son. And thank you for pouring into our hearts your precious Holy Spirit. Thank you for including us in your life through your Son in your Spirit. Grant us the grace to trust you will finish what you have begun in us, believing what you have in mind for us is far beyond our capacity to ask or imagine. May we leave winter behind and focus on spring, no matter how bleak things may look at the moment, through Jesus our Lord and by your Spirit. Amen.

“[Abraham] is our father in the sight of God, in whom he believed—the God who gives life to the dead and calls into being things that were not. Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations, just as it had been said to him, ‘So shall your offspring be.’ Without weakening in his faith, he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead—since he was about a hundred years old—and that Sarah’s womb was also dead. Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised. This is why it was ‘credited to him as righteousness.’” Romans 4:17b-22 NIV

Shining on the Mountain

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By Linda Rex

Transfiguration

Years ago, I was looking through the books in the public library during my summer vacation from school when one author’s name on the spine of a book caught my eye. Back then people did not name their children Zane, and Grey was an unusual last name. Curious, I mentioned Zane Grey to my dad. He seemed to know who the author was, but he discouraged me from reading his books.

In later years, though, I picked up Riders of the Purple Sage and was surprised to find I identified with the heroine in the story. From then on, I was hooked and began looking for his books in all the libraries near where I lived.

The culture of the Old West presented in Zane Grey’s stories may have been embellished and not entirely accurate. But his presentation of the human heart and the human condition were impressive to me. He wrote of the worst decadence and oppressive evil we humans are capable of. He told stories of men and women who were so given over to evil they were enslaved by it and unable to free themselves.

But Zane Grey also told stories of the capacity of the human heart and mind to rise above all opposition and evil so as to stand against such evil and bring justice and hope to their community and loved ones. He wrote about the way people wrestled with their conscience and their limitations to eventually rise above it all and find freedom and hope.

In many ways we find these same kind of stories in the Bible—this is the human story. The Scriptures are filled with the raw honest truth about our failures as human beings—our enslavement to evil and sin. But they also tell the stories of broken, fragile humans who stand against evil and sin, and who, by God’s grace and power, bring hope, healing, and renewal to their families and communities. It seems that hidden within our broken jars of clay is a glory which cannot be buried.

It is amazing how God chose to enter into our broken humanity in the person of the Word, the Son of God. How is it that God could and would stuff his amazing divine glory into a few little cells? How was it that Jesus was able to hide for so many years the glory of God which was hidden within him?

And yet, this is what we see Jesus did. He may have healed people, cast out demons, and stilled the storm, but he was just as human when he got done as when he began. He spent a lot of time telling people not to share with others the truth about how he healed them or helped them. It was not Jesus’ purpose to shine with divine glory during the majority of his stay in human flesh here on earth.

What James, Peter, and John got to see on the mountain of the transfiguration was very special. They had their eyes opened to the reality of the true glory of Jesus. And they were stunned—they didn’t know how to react. Peter in his momentary delirium suggested building booths for them to stay in. But Jesus was only giving them a glimpse—he was not reassuming his eternal glory in that particular moment. He remained in his humanity—and told them to keep this event to themselves until after the resurrection.

It would take the death and resurrection of Jesus for the disciples to begin to understand what it was Jesus was doing. He had no interest in touting his own glory while in human flesh but rather chose to intentionally set it aside to share in ours. He was living in relationship with his Abba in the Spirit just as we are to. He was not living out of his divine glory, but rather sharing in our human glory—the glory God created in us as reflections of his glory as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

What Jesus did in his life, death, resurrection, and ascension was to sweep all of humanity up into his story as the Son of the Living God. It seems there is so much more going on in the world than just our everyday mundane lives. Each of us in Christ is now the hero or heroine who has the task of standing in opposition to all which is evil, sinful, and destructive no matter the cost to him or herself. In Christ we are included in the divine fellowship of Father, Son, and Spirit, and we are more than conquerors over anything the kingdom of darkness may choose to throw at us.

Our lives are hidden with Christ in God, so whatever we may be doing is a participation in Christ’s very life. Are we living like the evil villain in this story? Or are we acting as if we are the unexpected deliverer? Are we living the lie the kingdom of darkness is the real power at work in the world, or are we living out the truth that all evil, sin, and death were conquered over and swept away in Jesus Christ?

In sending his Holy Spirit to earth through his risen Son Jesus, Abba poured out the gift of his Presence and Power on all flesh. This gift is there for you and me—the indwelling Christ, the presence of God within our humanity—this treasure in jars of clay. We have a glory, a capacity which is beyond our comprehension. In Christ by the Spirit we are capable of more than what we often believe possible.

What we do with that gift is critical. Like taking a book off the shelf and opening it up to read it, we can jump into the midst of the story and be a part of the action. Or we can leave it on the shelf, and never experience the thrill of the story, the anticipation of the ending, or the companionship of fellow journeyers. Are we going to go by what someone else said about the book? Or are we going to read it for ourselves?

Christ has done all which needs to be done to make this incredible story something we get to share in. Maybe it’s time to pull the book off the shelf.

Dear Abba, thank you for including us in this amazing story through your Son Jesus Christ. By your Spirit awaken us to our full and joyful participation in it. Open our eyes to see, our ears to hear, and our heart to know what is really going on: You dwell in us and call us to share forever in your divine fellowship of love and grace, through Jesus our Lord and by your Spirit. Amen.

“For God, who said, “Let there be light in the darkness,” has made this light shine in our hearts so we could know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ. We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.” 2 Corinthians 4:6-7 NLT

Night Vision

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By Linda Rex

There is a sawblade hanging on the wall upstairs with the picture of a goldfish swimming around in a bowl. The text I wrote on the picture when I was done drawing it with colored pencils was: “No more privacy than a goldfish.” It seemed to fit.

Over the years this sawblade has hung in various places in my different homes. It is always a reminder to me of the annoying reality that in some ways, we all live in the spotlight of others opinions and observations. Those of us in positions of leadership, whether in our home, work, or community, have to effectively handle being under the scrutiny of all sorts of people, knowing we influence others by what we say and do.

Take for example, poor Punxsutawney Phil. This famous groundhog is minding his own business, probably taking a long comfortable snooze in his den. He wakes up and wanders outside, and the next thing you know someone has grabbed him and all these photographers are taking snapshots. And whether he likes it or not, his shadow is said to forecast six more weeks of winter, the thought of which makes many people unhappy.

The truth is, no matter how hard we try to hide, we will at some point be exposed to the light of day. No matter how dark the night may be, in the end the earth will turn just enough the sun will shine on us again. No matter how gloomy our prospects, there is hope.

I believe there is a reason God ordained that the sabbath and holy days he gave his people Israel began in the evening. Each day began with rest during the darkness, which culminated with a new day of life. When the Word of God arrived on the scene, he showed up in the middle of the night, when it was dark. It was the entrance of God himself into our humanity, into our cosmos, which turned our night into a bright new morning.

Indeed, this motif is carried into Jesus’ last moments on the cross. There was some concern he would not be dead before sundown—the Jews didn’t want to be messing with anything like this when they were to be resting and observing a holy time. As the evening darkness approached, though, Jesus neared death. And then the sky darkened, and Jesus felt the full impact of our sense of our alienation and lostness.

Jesus went down into the depths of death—the blackness which has hovered over us since Adam and Eve’s missteps in the Garden of Eden. He experienced the full impact of our suffering and willingly bled and died. He was not overcome by death or darkness or evil. No, he entered into it, and then turned it on its head.

This shows the incredible love and compassion of our God who is Light. The Light entered our darkness. For him, our darkness was not a problem, because he was and is the Light—darkness does not impact him or alter him—he is the Creator and Sustainer of all things. Light and dark in this world only exist in and through him. Even evil has its existence only in what some call the permissive will of God. It is only by God’s grace such things continue.

So, we see Jesus was laid in a tomb, buried just as every other human is in some way upon death. He laid in the grave—the ultimate blackness and darkness we tend to fear as humans. But the grave could not and did not hold him. The next scene of the story shows the light of a new day dawning, and the stone rolled away from the tomb. We see the living Jesus speaking to his disciples and eating with them.

Whatever darkness we may face in this life, it is swept up into this darkness which Jesus experienced. Whatever death may come about in our lives is now a sharing in Christ’s death. Whatever dark moments we find ourselves in are a participation in those dark, bleak moments Jesus experienced in Gethsemane, on the cross, and in the tomb. No doubt, Jesus experienced just about every form of darkness we as human beings experience—being rejected and forsaken by his friends and family, being hated by the people who should have welcomed and embraced him, and being abandoned in his darkest hour by those who promised to be with him.

The miracle of Jesus’ ability to see in the dark was based in his eternal perichoretic relationship with his Abba in the Spirit. Jesus had true night vision. Our darkness was not too dark for him to enter—but rather the very place he came to in order to draw us up into the Triune relationship of love and life. Jesus dove into the blackness to rescue us from “the domain of darkness” and to transfer us to his kingdom as Abba’s beloved Son. (Col. 1:13 NASB)

Often our inability to see in the darkness, in the night of our brokenness in this world of shadows is because we are spiritually blind. We need to come to Jesus, like the blind men in Matt. 20:33 and say with them, “Lord, we want our eyes to be opened.” Jesus’ compassion is great, and he wants us to be able to see—he wants us to have true sight, especially in the dark night of our soul.

Too often we think we are seeing when in reality we are blind. We need Jesus to clear our eyes up so we can truly see as we ought. We need to guard against allowing ourselves to be deceived into thinking we are living and walking in the light, filled with the light of Jesus by the Spirit, when we are actually dwelling in and soaking up the darkness of unbelief. (Luke 11:33-36) Are we walking by faith or by sight?

What we can forget sometimes is, wherever we are, whatever we are doing, God is present and aware. Whatever we are experiencing in our lives, Jesus is intimately aware of and sharing in by the Spirit. We are not alone. Like the goldfish in a bowl, God sees everything about us, in us, and with us. He knows us down to our core and has shared it all with us in Jesus. He is present by his Spirit in every moment and in every situation. We are never left alone in the dark.

Abba, thank you for not leaving us alone in our darkness. Thank you, Jesus, for coming here and penetrating our darkness, overcoming it by your marvelous light. May you by your Spirit give us perfect night vision—the ability to see what is real and true: the great and never-ending, all-encompassing love and grace of you, our glorious God, and to know you are always in us, with us, and for us, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.

“If I say, ‘Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,’ even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.’” Psalm 139:11-12 NIV

Christmas Sorrow, Christmas Joy

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By Linda Rex

Lately I’ve been going out the door in the morning saying to myself, “We need to take the tree down—it’s been up long enough.” I don’t know what it is about putting away the Christmas decorations, but I just don’t like doing it. Not because of the work involved, but because of the temporary loss of the reminder of the goodness, joy, and peace God brought in his Son Jesus.

I love the colors and the nativity scenes. I enjoy the way all the decorations remind me of why Jesus came. I have observed the Old Testament holy days, and I have observed the Christian holy days. This particular one, Advent and Christmas, has an amazing ability to capture the heart and mind of young and old. We find ourselves singing of peace, hope, love, and joy. And we feel our hearts warm up towards others in new ways when they wouldn’t otherwise.

This season also has the capacity to bring great sorrow and grief. When the Christmas season is a source of sadness and regret, it can leave such pain in our hearts. The pain, I believe, is so deep and real because it is an expression of great loss—a loss Abba never meant to have happen.

Indeed, it was not God’s purpose we live with sorrow, grief, suffering, and loss. It’s not what we were created for. No, he meant for us to share in his eternal life of intertwined oneness with God and one another. We have all been bound together in Christ, and we all gain our life and being from the God who made us.

Our lives and experiences are all interwoven together, and we are meant to be living in the same uniqueness of personhood with equality and oneness of being God lives in as Father, Son, and Spirit. We were not meant to have to suffer sin’s consequences or death. No, we were meant to share life together as beloved children of God in the hope, peace, joy, and love we celebrate during Advent.

The good news about taking down the Christmas tree is we get to put it back up again next winter. The seasons come again and again, and we are reminded anew of the miracle of the Christ child, of when God came in human flesh.

This year taking down the tree reminds me of how Mary and the disciples took Jesus’ lifeless body down off the cross. No doubt they dreaded the process—and it was very painful for them. Even though Mary knew this probably would happen to Jesus, I’m sure it did not make it any easier for her to accept when it did.

Even though we celebrate the birth of Messiah at Christmas, we are reminded anew of the end which loomed over him his entire life. Abba knew the hearts of humankind—that we would not protect and care for his Son, but would reject and murder him instead. Abba’s love for us, though, was greater than any concern he may have had for Jesus in his humanity. Both Abba and Jesus knew at some point the celebration would be over, and the Christ would take the path to the cross. But they also knew that would not be the end.

When we take the ornaments and other doodads off the Christmas tree, we wrap or box them up, and we lay them in tubs, and put them away in a dark closet for a year. In this same way, the human body of Jesus was taken down off the cross, wrapped in linen, and then laid in a tomb. The door to the tomb was shut and then sealed. As far as the disciples knew, this was the end of the story for Jesus. He was shut away in the grave, gone from their lives.

But it was only a passing moment of time. Jesus told the disciples he would lay in the grave for three days, and then rise. The grave would not conquer Jesus—it had no control over him. For Jesus was God in human flesh—and his Abba was not going to leave him there, but would by the Spirit raise him from the dead.

The story of the infant in the manger does not end with Christmas, but follows throughout the year the story of Jesus’ life, death, resurrection and ascension. Jesus’ story doesn’t end in the grave, but actually gains momentum—the movement from the grave to his presence with Abba also involves the sending of the Spirit to indwell human hearts. When we look at Jesus Christ today, we find he is busy and active in this world, fulfilling the mission Abba gave him long before any of us existed.

Though the ornaments and decorations for Christmas may lay in the closet again for a while, I know eventually we will pull them out again. We will put up our worn-out tree with its twinkly lights, and be reminded of the ever-living Lord our Light, who was pleased to dwell with men. We will hang our homemade ornaments and colorful ribbons, and remember God so loved us, he gave us his Son Jesus Christ. As we set out one more time the little nativity set, we will be encouraged that God’s love never fails, but is new every morning.

In spite of evil, in spite of death, and in spite of the brokenness of our humanity, we have hope, peace, joy, and love in Abba’s perfect gift. The Spirit reminds me again today not to sorrow, but to be thankful. Whatever prayers I may offer for the suffering and grieving, God has already answered in the gift of his Son Jesus, and he will answer in the presence and power of his Holy Spirit. Whatever comfort I may offer someone in the midst of their sadness and loss is only an echo of the divine Comforter sent by Abba through his Son Jesus.

Whatever these decorations mean to me, they are merely pointers to a greater reality, to a real hope which we have in the love and faithfulness of God as expressed in the gift of His Son Jesus Christ. As they come down and are packed away, I am reminded every death now has a resurrection, because of what Jesus has done. Jesus cannot be stuffed in a box or a tomb and put away. No, he inevitably will rise in greater glory and majesty, for that is just Who he is—our glorified Lord and Savior. And one day we will rise with him. What a joyful day that will be!

Thank you, Abba, for the gift of your Son and your Spirit. Thank you for joining us in our humanity, and sharing every part of our lives. Thank you, Jesus, for taking us with you through death and resurrection so we may share life with you, Abba, and the Spirit forever. Please be near with your comfort and peace all those who are facing grief and loss. Your heart and mine go out to them, and I know you will send your Comforter to heal, comfort, and renew. Thank you again for your faithful love and grace through Jesus our Lord. Amen.

“For those who live in Jerusalem, and their rulers, recognizing neither Him nor the utterances of the prophets which are dread every Sabbath, fulfilled these by condemning Him. And though they found no ground for putting Him to death, they asked Pilate that He be executed. When they had carried out all that was written concerning Him, they took Him down from the cross and laid Him in a tomb. But God raised Him from the dead; and for many days He appeared to those who came up with Him from Galilee to Jerusalem, the very ones who are now His witnesses to the people.” Acts 13:27-31 NASB

Unfathomable Riches

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By Linda Rex

Epiphany
Imagine yourself in the position of Mary, who had this incredible experience of hearing from God through an angel. Her surrender to the will and purposes of God meant she became pregnant by the Spirit, and she had to explain to her fiancé how this came about. There was no reason for him to believe her story.

Thankfully, Joseph was equally visited by God and chose to marry her in spite of all this. As the time of the baby’s birth came close, she ended up traveling to Bethlehem with her spouse for a census. Here she had a baby in the most uncomfortable circumstances, and named him Jesus as instructed. She and Joseph took him to the temple as the law required, and her baby was prophesied over and praised by two elderly God-fearing people.

Mary and her husband Joseph remained in Bethlehem for a while, and then one day, out of the blue, this entourage showed up at the door. These visitors were not typical Jewish people but foreign magi, and they came bearing expensive gifts. The frankincense, gold, and myrrh were gifts fit for a king, and they were presented to Mary’s child. Perhaps Jesus was old enough by this time to toddle over to the magi and explore what he was given. Mary and Joseph probably had to put the gifts somewhere safe so they would not be ruined.

But these wonderful visitors traveled many miles following a star and sought the one who was born king of the Jews. Having found him, they worshiped this special child, and gave him gifts which were precious and which honored his dignity as our prophet, priest, and king. And then these special people returned home by another way.

In some ways, we can say that these magi reflect the divine story. Our Abba’s Son too went on a journey far from home, into a land which was foreign to his divinity—he became flesh and dwelt among us. He took upon himself our broken humanity, bearing our frailty and weakness.

The Son of God was seeking the children of the King—the ones who were born to share life with his Abba. He was following the star of Abba’s heart—the covenant made with his people, the fulfillment of his divine destiny as the Elected One, the Son of God. He came to give us gifts, to restore to us the dignity of our personhood as those made in the image of God, and to provide for us a way home to Abba.

On Epiphany, we are reminded of how the Son of God stooped to join with us in our brokenness and shame to lift us up into the divine dance of the love and life of Father, Son, and Spirit. He identified himself with us so completely in our humanity, he came to John the Baptist at the River Jordan to be baptized by him “to fulfill all righteousness.” As he came up out of the water, heaven burst open, and the Spirit lighted on him like a dove. The voice of Abba declared, “You are my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” (Matthew 3:13-17)

The way heaven opened and Abba and his Spirit embraced Jesus, is the way God has embraced all of us. Jesus has brought us into the intimate relationship he has with his Abba in the Spirit, and has shared this precious gift of relationship with you, and me, and every other person on this planet. No one is excluded from Jesus’ baptism in the Father’s amazing gift of love and grace. Each and every one are held in Abba’s embrace. All have available to them the precious gift of God’s presence and power in the Person of the Holy Spirit.

Like the magi, Jesus came out of the water and began to travel a new way home—the way we are to walk—in utter dependency on his Father. The Spirit immediately sent him out into the desert, and he was met there by the devil, who did his best to attempt to get Jesus to draw upon the benefits of his divinity rather than continuing to identify with all of humanity by depending solely upon his Father by the Spirit. But Jesus stood his ground—he would continue to set aside the benefits of his divinity for your sake and mine, so he would completely identify with us in our dependency upon Abba.

In Christ we are called to surrender our willfulness, our stubborn resistance against the love and grace of God, and our refusal to allow God to be the God he is and to define for us what it means to live in perfect, loving relationship. In Christ we are brought up against our surrender to the evil one’s way of doing things—participating in his desire to kill, steal, and destroy—and we are given the freedom to choose to submit to Abba and trust in him instead.

Just as Jesus did the right thing on our behalf by allowing himself to be baptized for us, we participate in his baptism by confessing our sins in repentance and obeying Abba’s instruction to be baptized for the remission of sins. We receive Abba’s gift of his Spirit in the same way his Son Jesus welcomed the heavenly Dove. We participate individually in what Jesus did for all.

And we begin our journey home to Abba by another route than the one we first came in on. We don’t seek our own path home but rather, we follow the bidding of the Father, keeping in step with Jesus by his Spirit, trusting in Abba’s perfect love and grace. Just as Jesus participated fully in our human existence, we begin participating in Jesus’ divine life within the embrace of Abba in the Spirit. We have a new life to live—in Christ we are dancers stepping in time with the heavenly music of Abba as we by the Spirit share in the Triune divine dance of love, of knowing and being known, for all eternity.

Dear Abba, thank you for sending your Son to come and find us, and to bring us home to you. Thank you, Jesus, for coming and sharing in our brokenness, and for identifying with us in our sin and dying our death in our place. Thank you, Spirit, for all you have done and are doing to bring us into full participation with the Father and Son in their love and life. Holy God, please grant us the repentance and faith we need, and the grace to obey your call to be baptized, so we might fully participate in your divine life and love. Lead us home to you, Abba, for we know you stand watching, expectantly awaiting our return, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.

“Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. For behold, darkness will cover the earth and deep darkness the peoples; but the Lord will rise upon you and His glory will appear upon you. Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your rising. Lift up your eyes round about and see; they all gather together, they come to you. Your sons will come from afar, and your daughters will be carried in the arms. Then you will see and be radiant, and your heart will thrill and rejoice; because the abundance of the sea will be turned to you, the wealth of the nations will come to you. A multitude of camels will cover you, the young camels of Midian and Ephah; all those from Sheba will come; they will bring gold and frankincense, and will bear good news of the praises of the Lord.” Isaiah 60:1-6 NASB