Advent Meditations...

One of the hazards of my line of work is that the Advent season tends to rush by in a flurry of activity until Christmas is upon us.  I suppose that's not something that's unique to pastors--if I remember right, it happened to me just as easily before I entered the ministry as well.  The Thanksgiving rush gives way to a flurry of necessary preparations: decorating, cooking, buying, wrapping... not to mention worshiping, performing, observing, and of course, partying.  Pundits are telling us that this is one of the shortest periods of time between Thanksgiving and Christmas on record.  While that might be statistically true, I must practically disagree.  As best I can tell, there were years when there seemed to be about a day and half between the two events.

This year, however, following an incredibly packed fall, the weeks ahead actually don't look that bad.  Of course, that could be just because the last three months of frenzied activity have given me an unreasonable tolerance for busyness.  Very possible.  However, as I look at the next several weeks, I can almost imagine time to... think.  Actually process.  Meditate, if you will.  

To contemplate the reality that two thousand years ago, at a point in time in actual history, God broke into our reality, and in doing so, He changed everything.  

Thousands of years of prophets and promises.  Figures that foreshadowed His coming.  The unfolding of a redemption narrative that has captured the imagination of both the pagan and the devout for the last two millennia.  

At a point in time, the better Isaac was born.  The ultimate Son of the Promise, who would one day become the sacrifice, but this time, none would stay the Father's hand.  

To an actual mom and an adoptive dad, the better Moses was born.  He would become the great Deliverer who would lead His people out of captivity.

The hope of the entire family of God, the better Passover lamb was born.  His blood would be spread, and the wrath of God would be assuaged.

In a cave or stable in a back alley, at a fixed point in geography, the better Joshua was born.  He would lead all who would follow, from every tribe, tongue, and nation, into the Promised Land.

In utter poverty, the better King David was born.  Several years later, royal gifts would be bestowed upon Him, and one day He would rule His people with justice, conquering every foe.

But at the time, no one knew.  The crying, illegitimate baby would never have been confused for the promise of Isaac, the hope of Moses or the Passover lamb.  It would never have been imagined that this dirty and impoverished child would be a great leader, much yet a king.  In fact, the period of waiting had been so long, spreading over so many generations, it's likely the people had given up any real hope.  They had stopped watching and waiting, and had entered into simply living.

That's our danger today, isn't it?  Seasons have passed, year after year, and nothing seems to have really changed.  And so, we rush from Thanksgiving to Christmas, arriving at Christmas Eve flustered, exhausted, and already spent.  We no longer wait--we simply live.  Advent has disappeared into the "Holiday Season," and the watching... the waiting... the anticipation... they have all disappeared along with it.

One of my favorite Advent devotionals is titled "Watch for the Light."  (If you've never read it, I would highly recommend it!  You can purchase it here.  While you're on Amazon, you can also purchase my book here, which would make great a Christmas present for everyone on your list, and thereby save you some precious time for meditation during Advent!  Shameless promotion, I know... back to the point...)  This is intended to be a season of watching.  Of waiting.  Watching for Jesus to be present in our midst, and waiting for opportunities to make Him present in our world.  But all of that requires hope.  A belief, by faith, that the Kingdom will someday come fully, and that it will continually come more fully in us.  A hope that the power of God in our midst can unify, empower, transform, and propel us to look more like Jesus ourselves, becoming the message of the gospel to those around us.  To love as He loved, to give as He gave, and to live contented, joyful lives in a world that is rushing after the next great thing.

All of that to say that this season, I'd like to meditate on the fact that He has come, and that He is coming again.  My best intentions are to use this space to make those meditations tangible.  If you desire, bookmark this page and check it out a few times each week.  I'd love to promise a specific schedule, but pastoring a church and helping my wonderful wife homeschool four children precludes such promises.  Besides, I've broken those promises so many times before that no one would believe me anyway.  I'm simply hoping for regularity and consistency during this season.  Maybe we can, together, take a journey toward Bethlehem, watching and waiting and hoping for something new.

Will you take the journey with me?