Sunday, December 30, 2007

Some Christmases are just better than others.

It only takes a few moments of reflection to notice that Christmas is a time of deep contrasts. It’s the celebration of family affection when we miss our loved ones most deeply, the festival of commercial excess when privation is most keenly felt, and the birthday of the Prince of Peace when strife and conflict seem particularly inappropriate. Though loneliness is always unfortunate, and want and war always unacceptable, they seem particularly so at Christmas.

Upon further reflection, however, we observe that the feast was ever thus: the King of Heaven laid in a manger and celebrated by common shepherds and exotic magi, the Saviour of Israel ignored by the priests and teachers of the law, the peace offering of God fleeing as a refugee before the murderous rage of a paranoid king. And even the winter solstice festivals that Christmas displaces are celebrations of contrast: warmth and cold, dark and light, fear and hope.

Last Christmas was the hardest we have ever experienced in my family. A handful of people were in the process of driving us from the ministry in our church in Victoria, and we were facing the uncertainty of unemployment and relocation. Our friends were sharing in our suffering and the church was grieving the loss of its pastor and also facing an uncertain future. One family, in the centre of the action, was so hurt by what was happening that they didn’t even manage to put up a tree. It was a dismal time.

By contrast, however, this Christmas has been one of the happiest we’ve had in many years. Most of our family was in Edmonton celebrating with us. This included our youngest, our daughter and her husband and two children, and our eldest and his wife and five month old baby girl. And our second child, who couldn’t be with us, was in Ontario having a good Christmas of his own. God is good, and life just doesn’t get much better than this.

So, I’d like to hear a bit about your Christmas. What’s been great and what’s been hard? And, over a lifetime, what’s made Christmas dark or light for you? Click on comment and let me know. And I pray, whatever Christmas was for you this year, the coming year will be a great one.

God’s blessings to all,

Dan


Thursday, December 20, 2007

Scrooge and the Grinch have always been part of the story.

I told you I had no plan and now it’s December 20th and we haven’t yet seen any shepherds, stars or magi. Goodness, we’re still in Nazareth. So, in case you didn’t know or had forgotten, Mary and Joseph did manage to work things out and get married, and they were away in Bethlehem when the baby came. They were temporarily homeless, living under a bridge, and Jesus was born in a dumpster, and his first cradle was an old shopping cart. Well, not actually, but you get the idea. God will go to any length to be close to the poor.

When the king heard that this little wonder-child had been born (Matthew 2), he got nervous. To be fair, considering some of the things Mary had been thinking and even saying recently (Luke 1:52 in my last posting) he had every reason to be nervous. But, instead of trying to work something out, he just sent soldiers to kill Jesus. Jesus got away, but the soldiers killed a lot of innocent kids. Kings often do this sort of thing, and that king did it more than most.

Have you’ve ever wondered why Christmas is never quite as grand or good as it should be; why there’s always someone or something messing it up? Personally, I think it’s just that there’s something in the world, in people like Herod, even in you and me, that fears what’s good. And when something really good comes along it’s almost like the world, the rulers, and even you and I are allergic to it. It seems like a foreign, alien thing, and something in us tries to expel it. Some people don’t seem to have much of this reaction, children for example, but most of us, by the time we’re grown up, have been fooled so often by bad things that pretend to be good, we just can’t trust the real thing.

Well, whatever the problem, it’s been there from the beginning. I’m not sure how I got past resisting this thing myself, but somehow I did. I’m not sure how anyone else can get past it, but somehow they must. It’s just too good to miss. I wrote a poem about it a few years ago and here it is, a little Christmas gift, an invitation for you.

Merry Christmas!!!

The Invitation - Dan Colborne

'Twas the night before Christmas, a long time ago,
And they didn't have sleigh bells, they didn't have snow.
No stockings were hung by the old chimney flue;
'Twas the night before Christmas, but nobody knew.
Not a carol was sung, not a wreath on a door,
'Cause no one had ever had Christmas before.
No children lay dreaming of sweet sugarplums
That night before Christmas, the very first one;
Not a sign of a special event, not a trace,
But a wonderful birth was about to take place.

Now, shepherds were watching their sheep, right close by,
While, far away, Wise Men were watching the sky,
When angels appeared to the shepherds to sing
Of a Bethlehem stable, a manger, a king.
And a star seemed to say to the Wise Men somehow,
That a new king had been born in Israel just now.
So they stopped watching sheep, and stopped searching the skies,
And they hurried to join in this birthday surprise.

The shepherds told everyone that they had seen,
Angels and angels, and how they had been
Invited to come to a stable in town,
To worship a baby, pay homage, bow down.
They said, "He's a king!", but some replied, "Is he?"
Some came to the party, but some were too busy.

And, there was a king in that country already,
And he liked his job, and he wanted it steady.
And so, when the Wise Men came by with the news,
King Herod came down with a case of the blues.
See, he was the kind of a person who'll come
To a party, but only to spoil the fun.
And he came to the party; it ended in tears.
But the story’s continued through two thousand years.

Till, strange as it seems, each year, in December,
The whole world takes time out to stop and remember,
That Christmas that happened so long, long ago,
In a land without Christmas trees, stockings or snow.
And we think of that child who was born in that stable,
With never the sound of a carol or sleigh bell.
And all are invited today, as before,
To come to the stable, to worship, adore.

But some are too busy, and some are too clever,
Some plan to come later, some plan to come never.
And some are afraid for the throne they hold onto,
And others, for no reason, simply don't want to.
Some come to the stable, but will not adore him.
The birthday boy's here, and they choose to ignore him.

But, wise men and women don't miss it or fear it,
They recognize good news the moment they hear it.
They're quick to respond, be they shepherds or kings,
And they fly to the stable as though they had wings.
And children delight in a birthday surprise,
For practically all little children are wise.
They abandon their hearts to rejoicing with ease,
And they come as if born on the wings of the breeze.
But this invitation is specially for you.
We’re off to a party! Please, won't you come too?


Dan Colborne

Copyright 1991

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

The Iron Maiden

When we think of Mary, a girl of 14 or 15, we imagine she was a child like the young adolescent girls we know, but in her culture she was a young woman, old enough to have a husband and a family. She was also a child of a politically oppressed people, steeped in the revolutionary scriptures of the Old Testament. Perhaps we need to imagine her as we might imagine a young Moslem woman in the Palestine of today. Indeed, the verses we are about to consider suggest that she has hopes and dreams for her people, very political hopes and dreams.

Upon becoming pregnant, Mary went to visit her relative Elizabeth and stayed with her till after Elizabeth’s son, John, was born. This was a woman who’d been told the child she would bear “will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah,… to make ready a people prepared for the Lord." Elijah was a prophet of the Old Testament, but he was also the leader of a rebellion, a man of battle. 1 Kings 18:40 There is something going on here that we traditionally miss. There’s a very real political tension here that Luke certainly understood, as did his first century readers.

What follows Elizabeth’s greeting of Mary is the passage we call the Magnificat. It’s beautiful poetry, but it’s not simply a hymn to be sung in church. It’s a declaration, a manifesto, composed of Old Testament texts drawn mostly from the Psalms, expressing the hopes and dreams of a dispossessed and suffering people. If we will read the following verses through this lens, especially 50-53, we will see why Jesus was feared and hated even from infancy, why Herod sought to kill him, and why the Roman and Jewish establishment eventually did.

Luke 1:46-55 And Mary said:
"My soul glorifies the Lord

47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has been mindful
of the humble state of his servant.
From now on all generations
will call me blessed,

49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me —
holy is his name.

50 His mercy extends to those who fear him,
from generation to generation.

51 He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.

52 He has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.

53 He has filled the hungry with good things
but has sent the rich away empty.

54 He has helped his servant Israel,
remembering to be merciful

55 to Abraham and his descendants forever,
even as he said to our fathers."

This young girl, Mary, is not the trifling little flower some have imagined, but a woman of strength and substance. This is a revolution that will shake the world to it’s foundations. And the battles are not just metaphors, they're the real thing. Both these babies, John and Jesus, will die violent deaths. The rich and powerful don’t go down without a fight.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

What’s Love Got to Do with It?

Luke 1:39-40 At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, 40 where she entered Zechariah's home and greeted Elizabeth.

Luke tells us that shortly after she became pregnant Mary went to spend some time with her relative, Elizabeth. Surely we might have expected this. Think how many untimely teenage pregnancies have resulted in timely vacations. It would soon be obvious to everyone in Nazareth that a miracle was happening to Mary, but they must have assumed it was a miracle of the usual kind. She was betrothed to Joseph and, in the absence of a strenuous disclaimer, they must certainly have concluded that he was the father. This was more than an embarrassment in Mary’s culture, it was a shameful thing, but time would still the wagging tongues.

Luke says almost nothing about Joseph, but we can well imagine that the situation was hard for him too. And Matthew tells us that, assuming what any normal person would assume, Joseph was working out how to break off his betrothal when, in a dream, an angel let him in on the holy secret. (Matthew 1:18-20) Did Joseph immediately believe, once and for all? I doubt it; that’s not how belief usually works. But he did take Mary as his wife, in effect confirming what everyone already “knew” about him.

So, how can we explain this? Perhaps he was a man of unusual faith and courage. Perhaps he was a man of unusual insight and compassion. Or, perhaps, he was just a usual man, but much in love. Love does make even the most usual people do the most unusual things.

Even God so loved the world that he sent his only son, and all that that entailed. Mary so loved God that she received him, and all that that entailed. And Joseph so loved Mary he received them both, and all that that entailed. So what if the world rejects Joseph, and Mary, and Jesus, and even God; this is a love story and, as the Apostle Paul will eventually observe, “love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things". 1 Corinthians 13:7

Friday, December 14, 2007

Room at the Bottom

Luke 1:38 "I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May it be to me as you have said." Then the angel left her.

This little, five word declaration from Mary goes right to the heart of the Gospel story. She is a servant of the Lord.

Service is the hardest lesson in life, but I don’t think we’re entirely to blame. I mean, it all starts off in such a misleading way. We come into the world unable to do anything, and people wait on us hand and foot. If we lift an eyebrow or the corners of our mouth, everyone is rapt in ecstasy. No wonder we think we’re the centre of the universe; for the first year or so we are. In time, if we’re lucky, another child will show up and we’ll move down a notch on the road to becoming an adult, perhaps even a mother or father, at the bottom of the pile. When they asked Jesus who was the greatest in his new corporation he pointed to a child. If, by “greatest”, they mean the one who’s the centre of attention and gets his or her needs met first, those folks are in the nursery, not in the board room. What a concept!

Apart from Luke and Matthew, I think Dickens wrote the best Christmas story ever. Ebenezer Scrooge sits in the centre of his cold, lonely world, like a spoiled child who must have everything: a squeezing, wrenching grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner!” By the end of the story, however, he has learned the lesson of service that Mary seems to know already. To Bob Cratchit he declares, “I'll raise your salary, and endeavor to assist your struggling family,…” Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father.

Joni Mitchell’s Christmas song, River, captures the lesson poignantly. We all know that feeling of wanting to skate away at Christmas. Is it just the pressure of a season that’s been so twisted and commercialized? Perhaps. But maybe it also has something to do with being caught up in ourselves, staying somewhere we don’t belong just for the money, and being hard to handle and selfish. Maybe what we really need is some beginning skater we can lace up and prop up. Perhaps, if we can skate that far away, we don’t really need to skate away at all, but to someone who’d like to skate too.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Born of a virgin? What is that about?

At this point please allow me to distinguish two doctrines that are often confused, the Immaculate Conception and the Virgin Birth. Both involve Mary and conception, but that’s about the extent of their similarity.

The Immaculate Conception is a Roman Catholic doctrine concerning the conception of Mary in her mother’s womb, by normal sexual intercourse. It asserts that, from the point of conception, Mary was purified by divine grace and preserved from original sin. It concerns her spiritual purity from the beginning, thus the term “immaculate”. Non-Catholic churches have rejected the Immaculate Conception as unbiblical, but have embraced the doctrine of the Virginal Conception of Jesus, which is clearly affirmed by both Matthew and Luke in their accounts of Jesus’ birth.

The distinguishing of these doctrines is important, not just as an esoteric curiosity, but because calling Jesus’ conception “immaculate” gives credence to the misunderstanding that the Virginal Conception of Jesus is about his, and/or his mother’s, purity from sin. But, as we see from the passage below (v.35), it is actually about his origin, and the power of God.

Luke 1:29-38 Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. 30 But the angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. 31 You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, 33 and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end."

34 "How will this be," Mary asked the angel, "since I am a virgin?"

35 The angel answered, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God…. 37 For nothing is impossible with God."

Luke asserts, as does Matthew (Mt 1:18-21), that Jesus is quite literally the Son of God, as opposed to being the child of Joseph. If we object that this is impossible, as many do, we are only stating what was obvious to Mary and everyone else, including Gabriel and presumably Luke himself. Of course this is “impossible”, it’s a mighty act of God, a work of the Holy Spirit in the power of God, for whom nothing is impossible.

For Luke, the conception of Jesus in the womb of Mary is as miraculous as any of the mighty acts of God. Indeed, his language is reminiscent of the original act of creation, an impossibility if there ever was one. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. (Genesis 1:2)

The virginal conception of Jesus means that the incarnation of God in Christ is an act of God’s power and grace, as free and unconditional as was the original act of creation. And, though John does not specifically mention the Virginal Conception anywhere in his Gospel, I believe it is implied. Reflecting upon God’s work of re-creation in the life of those who receive Jesus, he actually takes the concept a step further than the other Gospel writers do. Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God. (John 1:12-13)

Monday, December 10, 2007

Waiting on the Lord

Week two of Advent

Luke 1:26 In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, 27 to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin's name was Mary. 28 The angel went to her and said, "Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you."

If you’ve ever been backstage during a theatrical performance you have some idea how complicated a play can be. Lines, costumes, lighting and sound must somehow be orchestrated. Timing is everything. Now, just imagine that what you’re seeing from backstage is improvisational theatre, and that most of the actors and stagehands don’t even know or care that they’re in a play. And imagine that the ones who do know and care only listen to the director once in a while. In this situation it’s going to take some time to get the story told. And it’s going to take some careful listening on the part of some key performers, and an awful lot of patience.

The Jews had been waiting for Messiah for centuries, but they couldn’t have imagined that Herod and even the Roman Empire have a part to play. Zechariah and Elizabeth have been waiting for a baby, but they have no idea that Mary must first be prepared. And Mary’s about to become a key performer with no idea what a difficult and painful role she’s taking on.

Have you ever noticed how much of our lives we spend waiting for something; a prayer to be answered, graduation, a better job, a husband, wife, child? But, if we are part of God’s unfolding drama, we’re also waiting for a thousand things to happen, and a thousand people to do things of which we know nothing. Just like Mary, whether we know it or not, we’re waiting for the director to give us some direction. Just waiting on the Lord.

“But when will we get to serve?”, we ask impatiently.

The answer is simple. We are serving already. As John Milton said, “They also serve who only stand and wait”.


Saturday, December 8, 2007

Touched by an Angel

One day, while Zechariah was burning incense in the Temple in Jerusalem, an angel appeared and told him that he and Elizabeth were going to have a son.

Luke 1:18 Zechariah asked the angel, "How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years."

19 The angel answered, "I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news. 20 And now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens, because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their proper time."…

23 When his time of service was completed, he returned home. 24 After this his wife Elizabeth became pregnant and for five months remained in seclusion. 25 "The Lord has done this for me," she said. "In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people."

Isaac, Samson, and Samuel were children born to barren women, so Zechariah’s well aware that God can do this. But that he will do it “in these days” for him and Elizabeth, is quite another thing. And, in his confusion and doubt he asks the angel for a sign. This may seem like no big deal to us, but it’s a delicate request, rather like asking the angel to produce some ID, which is exactly what Gabriel does. "I am Gabriel”, he declares. “I stand in the presence of God,…”.

The name Gabriel means, “God is great”, and Zechariah, who’s name incidentally means “God remembers”, is about to get a sign of the greatness of God that he won’t soon forget. He has spoken too quickly and too freely, but he won’t speak again for a while. His mouth will be closed until Elizabeth’s womb is opened. Then, as this new prophet comes forth from Elizabeth, prophecy will pour forth from Zechariah. (Luke 1:67-79)

I must confess, there’s something in me that wants to say, ‘Hey Gabe, lighten up a bit’. But could it be that this is why Luke begins with this startling, even troubling account? Maybe we’ve all seen too many fat baby angels and grandfather Gods. Perhaps, from the outset, Luke wants to put us on notice that talking to angels and serving God are very serious matters. And perhaps what I really should say is, ‘Hey Zack, get a grip, remember who you’re dealing with’. You see, Moses failed to take God seriously and never entered the Promised Land. (Numbers 20:7-12) Jacob was ‘touched by an angel’ and it crippled him. (Genesis 32:25)

Thursday, December 6, 2007

What we don’t like about the story of Jesus

Luke 1:5 In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah,… his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. 6 Both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord's commandments and regulations blamelessly. 7 But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren; and they were both well along in years.

Luke tells a humble story. He mentions King Herod, but only to fix the date. In Mathew’s Gospel Herod is a sinister character, but for Luke he’s not a character at all. Luke’s story starts with two nobodies in an obscure corner of the Roman Empire; a priest and a descendant of Aaron to be sure, but just old, worn out nobodies. This couple has a problem, but it’s an everyday human tragedy. Who cares about a childless old couple? Well, God cares, and he is about to act.

Elizabeth and Zechariah will have their child, but if we see this as a simple, feel good story of answered prayer we miss the point. God is blessing these people, but he’s doing much more. He is drawing them into the circle of his work. God is raising up John the Baptist, the greatest and last prophet of the Old Testament, and he will do it through Zechariah and Elizabeth. Though the angel says John will be a joy and delight to them, being the parents of a prophet is a bitter thing; their boy will be an outsider, a rebel, beheaded in the end. But God is not their servant, they are his.

And this is why the story is so humble. It’s not about people who took what they wanted, but people who gave what was needed. Every character who really matters in this story matters because he or she is an instrument of God with a part in a story that’s far more important than they are.

One day Jesus sat with his disciples and explained, "If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all." (Mark 9:35) It’s the unrelenting humility of this story that’s hard to love. But this is a story about real love. And ask any mother or father, ask any lover; real love is humbling and bittersweet. Everyone, of course, loves love, but real love is quite another thing, a humble thing. And humility is an acquired taste.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Love is not blind, and neither is faith.

Luke 1:3 Therefore, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, it seemed good also to me to write an orderly account for you, ...

Luke clearly intends that this Gospel be received as a reliable record of eyewitness accounts. He produced it by checking things out as best he could but, frankly, he wasn’t there to see these things first hand. So how reliable can this really be? Well, some say it’s “the Inerrant Word of God”, but this seems pretty arbitrary, at least as a place to start.

I think, to begin with, the best we can do is grant that:

  1. Luke is probably telling us things he believes to be true.
  2. when it comes to history, trusting what others tell us is the best we ever do.

Virtually everything we believe about history, and about almost everything else as well, has come to us through witnesses we trust. Which is to say, almost all of even our best knowledge is acquired through thoughtful, judicious, receptive faith. This is discernment; it takes the evidence, sifts it, sorts it, and views it through the lens of life experience. For some Luke’s stories may be too fantastic, but, for many, life is so amazing that even some fantastic things, when sifted, sorted, and taken all together, just ring true.

At first my mother brushed my teeth. Then I took over, initially because she told me to, and then because of habit and social pressure. But, eventually I began to do it to preserve my teeth. I’ve never actually seen bacteria decay a tooth, but I believe they do. Life, as I know it, is certainly strange enough to accommodate such a possibility. And the witness of many scientists who claim to have seen bacteria doing their work, and the fact that, after a lifetime of brushing I still have teeth to brush, is evidence enough for me.

Can we accept Luke’s story by faith? Of course we can, because this is how we live; by faith. We even brush our teeth by faith.

Monday, December 3, 2007

For Lovers Only

Luke 1:1 Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us,… 3 Therefore, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, it seemed good also to me to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, 4 so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.

As Luke begins his story of Jesus he address it to someone called Theophilus. Now, if this is a literal person, we know nothing more about him than that he is the target audience for this Gospel and the Book of Acts. (Acts 1:1) But the name means “Lover of God” and I believe that this is not an individual at all. Luke is writing specifically to those who love God.

You see, Luke understands that not everyone can receive what he’s about to share. For one thing, it’s a fantastic story, and in order to embrace it one must have already begun to discover that there is something fantastic at the heart of reality. As C. S. Lewis once wrote, “Besides being complicated, reality, in my experience, is usually odd. It is not neat, not obvious, not what you expect…” And so Luke writes to those who, having discovered this, are already under the influence of that Something or Someone at the heart of all things.

And, for another thing, this is a terrible story. The central character, Jesus, is the Suffering Servant of God. He is the Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep. And, in the end, he invites his followers to do likewise. Who but Theophilus, the one who is already in love with God, can seriously consider such a thing? Who but Theophilus can look unflinchingly at Jesus, see clearly the cost of discipleship, and then take up his or her own cross and follow him?

Love is not blind; that is the last thing that it is. Love is bound; and the more it is bound the less it is blind. – G. K. Chesterton