a weary world rejoices

“The best of all is, God is with us.”  (the final words of John Wesley, 1791)

Yesterday after my drive home from work, I sat in my driveway with the car idling and the radio turned up.  O Holy Night was playing and instead of rushing in the house, I chose to be still and reflect on the words. 

At the end of 2020, one thing is certain.  This is a weary world. 

I wish we could sit together, a big group of us, and share about the impact of this year, how we’ve grieved and grown and all the lessons we have learned. 

We would talk about COVID-19, of course:  our fears, the health of those we love, the fragility of our lives.  We would talk about race and equality, the ache to see real justice.  Politics would come up.  Some of us, no doubt, would have a lot to say.  Hopefully someone would mention the need for character, evident in leadership, pursued by all of us.

After a while the conversation might get personal.  If so, I would tell you about some hard things we navigated in our own home this year. 

2020 presented us all with a choice – difficult times always do. 

As a result, I believe we’re more authentic in December than we were in January.  We have learned that we are not in control, nor invincible. We have softened and slowed down.  We spent more time at home doing things we were too busy to try before.  And the slowing has been good for us.  

I think in December we realize how much we need each other. We re-ordered our loves this year. We do better in community and time apart has made us all realize people matter most.  I think in December we are more grateful, too.  We have learned to number our days a little better, to savor the moments.  Hopefully we are kinder, more gracious. 

2020 has taken a toll on many. There are families with less feet under the table this Christmas. For some, the empty chair is permanent this side of heaven.  How can we suggest there should be hope in a time like this?  Can a weary world rejoice?

One word makes all the difference.  Immanuel. 

‘See, the virgin will become pregnant and give birth to a son, and they will name him Immanuel, which is translated "God is with us."  Matthew 1:23

God with us.  Jesus left the splendor of heaven to be born as a baby, to be close to us.  He is, as the songs says, ‘born to be our friend’.  As I listened in my car, I let those words tend to my own weary heart. His birth is more than sentiment, the stuff of sweet Christmas concerts. It is an invitation to confident hope:  both personal and life-changing.  I am convinced that even now, especially now, we can have ‘a thrill of hope’. Discouragement and fear have had the floor long enough. God is with us.  With us in our grieving, our loss, our loneliness, our waiting. Our world desperately needs to hear the reason for the hope that we have, to see lives transformed by the presence of God.  God came to be with us, not just here and now, but forever.  His death and resurrection made a way for us to spend eternity with him. 

“He appeared and the soul felt its worth.”  Don’t rush too quickly past that.  The life and death of Jesus communicates more than anything, how deeply and dearly you are loved.  I hope when you consider Jesus, your soul feels its worth.

On the very first Christmas, the arrival of Jesus changed everything.  He can this Christmas, too. 

 “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.”  Isaiah 9:2

Let Immanuel usher in to your weary home this holiday, and rejoice.  God is with us.  

 ‘The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.’  Psalm 46:11

 

hope for us all

 “The peace I give is a gift the world cannot give.  So don’t be troubled or afraid.  (John 14:27)

In the course of one week, conversation changed, stores closed and playgrounds emptied. 

We stopped eating out, shaking hands and hugging our friends. 

We stopped taking a lot of really beautiful things for granted.

And walls came down.

In our country, we pride ourselves on being independent and resilient and brave.  Financial security and self-sufficiency have built us a tidy home where we are tucked in safe.  But there’s no grit or buck up attitude that can keep us nicely distanced from this global pandemic, and without those walls, we are exposed.  Vulnerability doesn’t sit well with us. 

We are a generous people.  We care about the concerns that touch the lives of others across our city or across our world. We give sacrificially at times. We feel compelled to lift a burden where we can, to imagine how even in our differences we are all still more alike.  But we’re not really the same, after all.  On a global scale, we are the rich, educated, healthy and safe.  There are a world of desperate realities that don’t ever touch us.  But things changed this week.  We look down at our feet and suddenly see that we walk in the same shoes.

There is a global conversation and it sounds pretty much the same wherever you find yourself.  The enemy is indiscriminate.  We love our people fiercely and with the threat of loss, we notice some cracks in our confidence.  We’re not quite as brave as we once imagined.

In one week, the walls of the Church came down.  We worshiped together and then without notice, became the Church without the building, believers in our workplace and homes navigating questions that require the full depth of our faith.  

And those on the outside are looking in with bold new interest.

The invitation to ‘give a reason for the hope that is within us’ is eagerly extended (1Pet 3:15).  It is needed and it is here like never before. 

Life and death issues have the world’s attention.  

Hope is in short supply.  Anxiety and fear are running rampant. 

The message of Jesus, two thousand years ago is still a message for us today.  He still brings calm to the storm.  He is still pursuing the hearts of people, calling them to be his own, to love and follow him. Today traffic in our communities has slowed, the pace of travel and industry almost stopped, and we are finally still enough to know that he is God.  I expect that in the new quiet, for those willing to hear, God’s voice will be louder and clearer than ever before. 

God’s word is truth, and it is peace in the uncertainty.

Blessed are those who trust in the Lord
    and have made the Lord their hope and confidence.  
They are like trees planted along a riverbank,
    with roots that reach deep into the water.  
Such trees are not bothered by the heat
    or worried by long months of drought.
Their leaves stay green,
    and they never stop producing fruit. (Jeremiah 17: 7-8)

Confident hope comes from the knowledge that God is in control.  Faith in him informs our behavior.  It enables us to be joyful in the face of fear.  Paul tells believers to “Rejoice in the Lord” (Phil 4:4).

Max Lucado writes:  “This verse is a call, not to a feeling, but to a decision and a deeply rooted confidence that God exists, that he is in control and that he is good.”

When you feel afraid, spend time in the Word.  It is easy to feel overwhelmed in light of what is happening worldwide.  But God is in control.  He loves you.  He is good and faithful.  Immerse yourself in what is true. 

Don’t be afraid, for I am with you.
    Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you.
    I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.

For I hold you by your right hand—
    I, the Lord your God. And I say to you,
    ‘Don’t be afraid. I am here to help you.  (Isaiah 41:10, 13)

Secondly, pray.  Peace happens when we are still and pray.  God is near and he brings perfect peace to the storm we face. 

"Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.  Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." (Phil. 4:6-7)

Hold onto your hope, friend. You are loved. May the end of this story find us all more gracious, more trusting, a people of fuller faith and a people with deep and radical dependence on God.