hope

Advent Begins In Darkness (Isaiah 9:2-7)

Isaiah 9:2-7

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy ;they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as warriors rejoice when dividing the plunder.

For as in the day of Midian’s defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor. Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire. 6  

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders, And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end.  

He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.

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The celebration of Advent is possible only to those who are troubled in soul, who know themselves to be poor and imperfect, and who look forward to something greater to come. - Dietrich Bonhoeffer

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Advent begins in darkness. 

* * * *

Hope is probably the key underlying theme in Advent – advent, after all, points toward the “arrival” of something or someone- in this case, offering hope in the face of evil that assail the world during what Paul calls “this present evil age” (Galatians 1:4).

In this sense, Advent is apocalyptic – a  “revealing” or “unveiling.” Unfortunately, apocalypse has become primarily associated with a terrible end to all things, but that’s not necessarily what the biblical writers meant when they used the word. Revelation, for example, is not an apocalypse simply because of what it says about the unfolding of terrible things in world history. It does unveil that, to be sure, but it’s an apocalypse primarily because of what it reveals or unveils about Jesus. In other words, an apocalypse may unveil terrible things, but it can also unveil wonderful things. In the Bible, apocalyptic literature like Revelation and Daniel does both.

So, Advent is about an apocalyptic time. The prophets in the Old Testament had ‘unveiled’ two things: what kinds of things God’s people did that was bringing judgment on themselves, and what a God of both justice and mercy was going to do about it.

The Israelites were God’s covenanted people; God had promised them that life lived within the framework of the covenant would bring great things. But they had a track record of remarkable disobedience, and they ended up living in exile in Babylonian.

Read Jeremiah’s Lamentations - or any of the Old Testament prophets, really. They unveiled the people’s continuing unfaithfulness to God and their covenant with God. There’s a gap of hundreds of years between the Old and New Testament where the Jewish people believed God was silent.  There seemed to be no hope.

It would have been easy to believe they had been abandoned by God: maybe he just wasn’t powerful enough to defeat the other gods; maybe He didn’t even exist; maybe he was angry beyond the breaking point. A God who existed and who proved himself a God without peers had promised not to abandon them, but despair can drive us to places where how we feel about life becomes confused with what we believe must be true about life.

This must have been a time when their faith was tested in ways that are hard to understand.  Or…maybe we do. It’s not as if followers of Jesus have stopped struggling with feelings of despair, abandonment, disillusionment, or loss of hope. 

But Jewish prophecy wasn’t simply about predicting something and then waiting for the fulfillment. It was often about pattern: showing how God has worked and is working so that the people will know how God will work. There was a constant uncovering of the eyes, constant apocalyptic glimpses of what is to come.[1]

The prophets made clear that their exile, and the silence of God for the centuries between the end of the OT and the beginning of the NT, was the reaping of what they had sown. God had told them what to expect if they broke the covenant to which they agreed. Now, they know He’s serious. And if that were the end of the story, that would be a grim story indeed.

But the prophets also helped them dream of a new world, a new way of life in faithful covenant, a time when a messiah sent by the God who had not abandoned them would rescue them from their unfaithfulness and exile. God was faithful with all His promises, after all, not just the grim ones. He had promised that they were His people and that He would be faithful - that, too, was unveiled.

Isaiah has pleaded, “Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down.” (Isaiah 64:1) And on the cross, there was indeed a rending – not just of the skin of the Savior, but of the curtain in the temple, decorated with stars to represent the heavens, the curtain the separated sinful, unwashed, morally impure humanity from the Holy of Holies.

The Messiah had come. Those who live in great darkness will see a great light. (Isaiah 9:2; Matthew 4:16) The hope of an age to come in which they lived in the light of God’s blessing shone with increasing urgency.

“Advent is a season of being caught between the way things are and the way they will be. Or, perhaps better said, between the way things seem to be and the way things really are. In other words, Advent is a season during which we long for apocalypse. But as the preacher of Hebrews reminds us, “Faith is the reality of what we hope for, and the evidence of what we can’t see.”  Advent is a season of faith. We light candles and trust that, as God has come before, so will God come again. We trust that no matter how dark the night, dawn is coming. We choose to hope. We choose to believe.”[2]

It turns out that the apocalypse is about a hope found in something beyond human history, something that is bigger than our personal or national cycles of optimism and despair. It is found in an incarnate God, one who arrives in the person of Christ (that’s the first advent), and one will return (that’s the second one).[3] During Advent season, we find hope in two arrivals: the one that changed history with a new covenant for His people, and the one that will wrap it up and make all things new.[4]

But we are in the middle of those two arrivals. And in that middle, it’s messy. And between the two bright lights of advent hope there are a lot of things that cast shadows. There are a lot of things that feel like exile, that feel hopeless, that cause us to question God’s goodness, or power, or existence. Advent season reminds us that we are asked to do something important:

“Stand a watch…as the ever-encroaching darkness draws near, and to ultimately give witness to the victory of light over night. And then to stand in its glorious beams and see all things be made new.[5]

Advent is about light emerging from darkness.[6] Advent is about the apocalypse, the unveiling of the truth about the world – which involves an honest look at not only the grim circumstances of a groaning world, but also the truth about the glorious Savior who has come to redeem and save.

“Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” This is as Advent a proclamation as I can imagine. We live in the ‘is’, between the remembrance of Christ’s death and the expectation of his coming again at the end of all things. This means we live in the fact of his risen-ness…We cannot always clearly see Christ, but knowing that Christ is risen means we can stand up and welcome Christ in the crisis. Death no longer has dominion over him. Death has no dominion over us. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus—not the past, not the present, not the future. We wait for the end of all these things, but we look for Christ now, risen and gathering us for the end.[7]

We live in the ‘is’, between the remembrance of Christ’s death and the expectation of his coming again at the end of all things. I want to linger here this morning.

I read an article written by a Catholic who was acknowledging the terrible cost of the ‘apocalypse’ in the Catholic Church over the past few years, particularly the scandal of sexual abuse. He was noting the discouragement, disillusionment and anger in Catholics who were leaving the church. There was something about how he summarized it that has lingered with me.

“Some people can only handle as much as they believe they can handle, and it is no easy thing to stand where we are and watch darkness grow where the light is fading. It is unsettling, disorienting. Despite the risk of injury, we want to run, get away from the dark, because we can’t bear to stay within it. 

But that is what Advent is asking us to do: to stay. To stand a watch in the [twilight] as the ever-encroaching darkness draws near, and to ultimately give witness to the victory of light over night. And then to stand in its glorious beams and see all things be made new. 

And so this is what I want to say to my friends who have left, or who are struggling; those who are halfway out the doors, or think they soon will be: My dear sisters and brothers, Hold on! Hold fast, and don’t run at the revelation! Don’t try to run through the fearsome darkness! 

Stay for Advent and stand the watch with me, with your family, with all of us... Be willing, for now, to keep company with Christ, so deeply wounded by his own Bride. Consent, for now, to share in the hard times before us (they will yet get harder, the darkness will grow deeper, still) and help us to hold, to hold fast! 

Because the light is coming; the darkness will never overcome it. Remember that Isra-el means “struggle with God.” We are all little Isra-els right now, wrestling, wrestling within his house and seeking our Jerusalem, our Abode of Peace. Hold on! Hold fast! 

Because an Advent promise has been made to us, and God is ever-faithful, so we may trust in it: Your light will come Jerusalem; the Lord will dawn on you in radiant beauty. This is for all of us. It is for you, and for me. It’s for every little Isra-el struggling. Your light will come. Just hold fast.”[8]

 What is going on your life right now? What is your struggle, perhaps even your struggle with God?

Is politics or culture wars overwhelming you? Does every election now feel like an apocalypse in the Hollywood way, an unveiling of the disastrous end of all things? Do it feel like America or the church as we know it is being upended, or that the future will hold only pain? An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again, This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

Did you lose a loved one this year through death, or through abandonment, or through relational distance that feels like a death? Do you wonder if this grief and emptiness will ever end? An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again, This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

Is your mental and emotional health on the line? If studies and private conversation are indication, a lot of us are struggling with depression, loneliness, and anxiety. Especially as winter moves in, things can feel bleak and lifeless. We wonder when we feel alive again. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again, This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

Is your family in crisis? Maybe a few apocalyptic years have simply unveiled cracks in family foundations that had been easy to cover up. We wonder if what has been broken can possibly be repaired. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again, This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come. 

Has being part of church been hard? Have you been frustrated with the way the church is present in the world?  Have you felt like God’s people are unsafe, or unpredictable, or just frustrating? An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again, This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

I want to close with a famous Christmas song written as a result of the Civil War. It captures this in-between time, the reality of waiting in a life that is hard for a hope that is sure.

I HEARD THE BELLS ON CHRISTMAS DAY[9]

I heard the bells on Christmas Day, their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come, the belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song of peace on earth, good-will to men!

 

Till, ringing, singing on its way, the world revolved from night to day
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each dark, accursed mouth, the cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound the carols drowned of peace on earth, good-will to men!

 

It was as if an earthquake rent the hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn the households born of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head ; "There is no peace on earth," I said ; 
"For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

 

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: "God is not dead ; nor doth he sleep!

The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail, with peace on earth, good-will to men!"

 

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[1] “Advent, the Apocalypse: A Constant Uncovering Of The Eyes.” https://www.patheos.com/blogs/sickpilgrim/2016/12/advent-the-apocalypse-a-constant-uncovering-of-the-eyes/

[2] “Anna And The Apocalypse And Advent.” https://www.reelworldtheology.com/anna-and-the-apocalypse-and-advent/

[3] “Why Apocalypse Is Essential To Advent.” https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2018/december-web-only/advent-apocalypse-fleming-rutledge-essential-to-this-season.html

[4] “Advent Apocalypse.” https://www.ministrymatters.com/all/entry/3388/advent-apocalypse

[5] “AMIDST OUR APOCALYPSE, ADVENT ASKS US TO STAY.” https://www.wordonfire.org/resources/blog/amidst-our-apocalypse-advent-asks-us-to-stay/5962/

[6] This darkness to light motif is thick in Scripture. We see the glorious beams of light that shine on new things over and over. Creation.: “Let their be light” and there is light that shines in the darkness; It’s in a plague of darkness in Egypt, God shows his freeing power; on a dark and stormy mountain, God reveals his covenant commandments to His people through Moses; Jesus’ birth was at night, in the shadow of the Herod’s palace, yet the light of the star and the Resurrection happens at night, and is revealed in the morning. The disciples are fishing before dawn, and the Resurrected Jesus appears in the morning.

[7] “Advent Apocalypse.” https://www.mnys.org/from-pastors-desk/advent-apocalypse/

[8] “Amidst Our Apocalypse, Advent Asks Us To Stay.” https://www.wordonfire.org/resources/blog/amidst-our-apocalypse-advent-asks-us-to-stay/5962/

[9] Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, written while nursing his son back to health after a grievous injury in the Civil War.

Silent Saturday: The Days We Wait

The Bible is full of ‘three day stories”[1]: Jonah in the big fish; Joseph’s brothers in jail in Egypt; the plague of darkness in Egypt; Rahab hid the spies for three days. Jesus was in the tomb for three days. On the third day is when the bad stuff ends. That’s the day we celebrate, and rightly so. But Third Day stories aren’t clear until the Third Day. On Day One and Day Two, it’s not yet clear how the story will end. The First day of Third Day story is often a brutal one.

Crucifixion Friday was the First Day of a Three Day story.  We talked last week about how Jesus understands our First Days. His entrance into the human condition showed that God is not a distant, uncaring and cold God. God understands us.  But there is still Saturday before Sunday. It’s not the day when the tragedy occurred; it’s not the day that Resurrection brings hope and life. It’s that troublesome (and often very long) middle day. 

Here’s what the Bible records the followers of Jesus were doing between Crucifixion Friday and Resurrection Sunday. (This is a combination of the details as they appear in Matthew 28; Mark 16; Luke 24; John 20).

At the rising of the sun, after the Sabbath on the first day of the week, the two Marys and Salome came to the tomb to keep vigil. They brought sweet-smelling spices they had purchased to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus. Along the way, they wondered to themselves how they would roll the heavy stone away from the opening…

[They encounter the Risen Jesus] 

They brought this news back to all those who had followed Him and were still mourning and weeping. They recounted for them—and others with them—everything they had experienced. The Lord’s emissaries heard their stories as fiction, a lie; they didn’t believe a word of it until Jesus appeared to them all as they sat at dinner that same evening (Resurrection Sunday). 

 They were gathered together behind locked doors in fear that some of the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem were still searching for them. Out of nowhere, Jesus appeared in the center of the room and said, “May each one of you be at peace.” 

 What do we see the closest followers of Jesus doing?

·      Keeping a vigil of mourning

·      Planning how to perfume the body of the dead Messiah

·      Hiding in fear

·      Mourning and weeping

·      Refusing to believe that Jesus was alive

It’s not a great resume builder, really. You would think that the biblical writers might want to put a better spin on what happened here. “As the disciples were praying and rejoicing over Jesus’ impending Resurrection, Mary returned and told them the good news. And they said, “Of course! We knew it all along! This is why there are BBQ wings on the table! It’s a party!”

No, they were mourning the death of their long awaited Messiah. They thought he was gone. They thought he had failed – and in that failure had shown that he was not, after all, the promised deliverer. As far as they knew, he was never coming back. 

Crucifixion Fridays are hard, but Silent Saturdays may be even harder. Funeral days are hard, but they are at least full of adrenaline and crisis management and we are surrounded by support. But then the next day, when family drifts back home, and friends go back to their routine… that’s when Silent Saturday sets in. The loneliness and the emptiness…

It’s hard enough when it involves earthly things. But what about when our relationship with God is best described as a Silent Saturday kind of relationship? What if there is a spiritual loneliness and emptiness, a sense that God is aloof at best and gone at worst. What about the times when the heavens seem empty, and our prayers just seem to drift off into a void? What about the times when God is silent?

ANDREW PETERSON – THE SILENCE OF GOD

 

It's enough to drive a man crazy, it'll break a man's faith
It's enough to make him wonder, if he's ever been sane
When he's bleating for comfort from Thy staff and Thy rod
And the Heaven's only answer is the silence of God

It'll shake a man's timbers when he loses his heart
When he has to remember what broke him apart
This yoke may be easy but this burden is not
When the crying fields are frozen by the silence of God

And if a man has got to listen to the voices of the mob
Who are reeling in the throes of all the happiness they've got
When they tell you all their troubles
Have been nailed up to that cross
Then what about the times when even followers get lost?
'Cause we all get lost sometimes

There's a statue of Jesus on a monastery knoll
In the hills of Kentucky, all quiet and cold
And He's kneeling in the garden, as silent as a Stone
All His friends are sleeping and He's weeping all alone

And the man of all sorrows, he never forgot
What sorrow is carried by the hearts that he bought
So when the questions dissolve into the silence of God
The aching may remain but the breaking does not
The aching may remain but the breaking does not
In the holy, lonesome echo of the silence of God

 

John Ortberg tells the following story:


“From the time she was a young girl, Agnes believed. Not just believed: she was on fire. She wanted to do great things for God. She said things such as she wanted to "love Jesus as he has never been loved before." Agnes had an undeniable calling.  She wrote in her journal that "my soul at present is in perfect peace and joy." She experienced a union with God that was so deep and so continual that it was to her a rapture. She left her home. She became a missionary. She gave him everything. And then he left her. 

At least that's how it felt to her. "Where is my faith?" She asked. "Deep down there is nothing but emptiness and darkness …. My God, how painful is this unknown pain … I have no faith." She struggled to pray: "I utter words of community prayers—and try my utmost to get out of every word the sweetness it has to give. But my prayer of union is not there any longer. I no longer pray." 

She still worked, still served, still smiled. But she spoke of that smile as her mask, "a cloak that covers everything." This inner darkness continued on, year after year, with one brief respite, for nearly 50 years. God was just absent. Such was the secret pain of Agnes, who is better known as Mother Teresa.

 

So what do we do with the Silent Saturdays of our lives? I want to offer a number of suggestions not so that you will be immediately aware of God’s presence, but so you can be purposeful and grow from this kind of season of your life. 

1. Be honest with God. The Bible gives us permission to voice our hearts during Silent Saturday. Look at a few of the Psalms:

·      Psalm 6:2–3  “Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing. Heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled. My soul is greatly troubled, but you, O Lord, how long?”

·       Psalm 13:1–2 “How long, O Lord, will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day?” 

·      Psalm 90:13–14 “Return, O Lord. How long? Have pity on your servants. Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love.”

·      “I cry to you for help and you do not answer me; I stand, and you only look at me.” (Job 30:20)

There is even a Psalm where David longs to bash the heads of the children of his enemies on rocks.  That is a terrible idea, of course, and God did not sanction that, but David wasn’t afraid to say it, as if he knew that God knew, and there was something important about naming the anger within. The psalms give us permission not to hide, as if we could anyway. Bring it into the light.  

A friend sent me a psalm of lament, full of anger and frustration that she had written as part of her process of coming to grips with why God had allowed what He did in her life. It was raw and beautiful, and it was bold. Those are good things. God knows your heart and mind; he already knows your deepest internal struggles. Voice them. God is big. He can handle it. 

 

2. Keep the vigils

In the spite of the pain of their loss, the Marys did what they had always done, which was part of the ritual life of living in Jewish community. What Jewish people believed and what they did in almost every aspect of life were so intertwined that it’s hard to imagine that the vigil was not considered part of what God called them to do. There is something to be said for keeping the faith through an active commitment to obedience and faithfulness. I would like to offer four vigils I believe are helpful.

A. Pursue Church community. Don't forsake gathering together (Hebrews 10:25). The disciples did at least one thing right: they hung together in the midst of their grief. It’s important that we remain connected and not withdraw. In community, others came back and reported their experiences with the Risen Christ. Even in the midst of doubt, there was hope. We stay in community so that we can be challenged, encouraged, and held close. We need to feel the nearness of God’s people when God feels distant. We need the hope that lives in others when our sense of hope is gone.

B. Pray and Read Scripture. I don’t know that there is a formula for the best way to do this. There are all kinds of cool ideas about how to read through the Bible or how to pray. I don’t think they are bad; I just don’t think there is a one-size-fits-all kind of approach. 

·    Listen to or read the Bible. 

·    Pray alone - or get together with others.

·    Pray for a block of time - or throughout the day.

·    Sing. There are theologically rich songs that    

     are good reminders of the hope we find in Jesus.

C. Dive Into Devotionals (podcasts, books, teachings, even songs). This is one way to experience the community of the church. It’s also a good way to find clarity about the Scriptures and to hear the testimonies of others. What did they do when they were in the First and Second days of their stories? 

D. Practice Obedience. One of the greatest dangers we face is giving up and saying to God, “You know what? If I can’t feel your presence, I am going to live as if you’re not there.” We shake our fist at the heavens and begin to sow sinful things that can be forgiven and healed but will nonetheless be harvested (Galatians 6:7). 

 The Bible describes the way of obedience as “the path of life” (Psalm 16:11). There is something about faithful obedience that is not just healthy; it is wise and stabilizing. This, too, is sowing actions that you will one day reap – but this time it won’t be the wages of sin. It will be the fruit of righteousness.  Also, I believe obedience is one of the ways we are conformed to the image of Christ – and in that conforming – as we begin to see what it means to ‘be like Jesus’ -  we begin to appreciate the wisdom of the One who guides our life. 

 

3. Learn to wait

·      Psalm 37:7  “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him. Fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way.” 

·      Psalm 27:14  “Wait for the Lord. Be strong and let your heart take courage. Wait for the Lord.”

 I’m not good at waiting. I want problem resolution. Give me a task! Sometimes that is what God calls us to do, but many God does not work that way. I like what Jon Bloom wrote in an article entitled, “When God Is Silent.”

Why is it that “absence makes the heart grow fonder” but “familiarity breeds contempt”? Why is water so much more refreshing when we’re really thirsty? Why am I almost never satisfied with what I have, but always longing for more? Why can the thought of being denied a desire for marriage or children or freedom or some other dream create in us a desperation we previously didn’t have?  

Why is the pursuit of earthly achievement often more enjoyable than the achievement itself? Why do deprivation, adversity, scarcity, and suffering often produce the best character qualities in us while prosperity, ease, and abundance often produce the worst?

Do you see it? There is a pattern in the design of deprivation: Deprivation draws out desire. Absence heightens desire. And the more heightened the desire, the greater its satisfaction will be. It is the mourning that will know the joy of comfort (Matthew 5:4). It is the hungry and thirsty that will be satisfied (Matthew 5:6). Longing makes us ask, emptiness makes us seek, silence makes us knock (Luke 11:9). 

Deprivation is in the design of this age. We live mainly in the age of anticipation, not gratification. We live in the dim mirror age, not the face-to-face age (1 Corinthians 13:12). The paradox is that what satisfies us most in this age is not what we receive, but what we are promised. The chase is better than the catch in this age because the Catch we’re designed to be satisfied with is in the age to come...  It’s the desert that awakens and sustains desire. It’s the desert that dries up our infatuation with worldliness. And it’s the desert that draws us to the Well of the world to come. 

Sometimes, the best way to hand over the weight of the world is to wait on Christ.

 

4. Don't confuse what you feel from what is real

I heard a wise man say once, “You will either judge truth by your feelings, or you will judge your feelings by what it true.” What is true is that God may feel absent, but He is not. God is with us always. Why does He feel absent? I don’t know. It could be that you are in rebellious sin. It could be that you are tired. It could be that God has removed the sense of His presence as part of transforming you into the image of Christ. It could be that you are distracted. I don’t know. 

But I know that God is near and faithful no matter how we feel. 

 

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RECOMMENDED RESOURCES

·      “Three Lessons to Learn When You’re Stuck in the Hallways of Life”  - Sarah Coleman


·      “When God Seems Far Away”  - John Ortberg

·      “When God Seems Silent” -  Jon Bloom

 



[1] I got this idea from a brilliant teaching called “Saturday: Living Between Crucifixion and Resurrection,” posted by Richmont Graduate Universityon youtube. I don’t know who the speaker was. You can access the video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U90EKNZPKCU

Advent Begins In The Darkness

ADVENT THEME: HOPE

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.
You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest,
as warriors rejoice when dividing the plunder.
For as in the day of Midian’s defeat, you have shattered
the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders,
    the rod of their oppressor.


Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood
will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given,
    and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.


Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness
    from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.
 Isaiah 9:2-7

 

The celebration of Advent is possible only to those who are troubled in soul, who know themselves to be poor and imperfect, and who look forward to something greater to come.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Advent begins in darkness.

Hope is probably the key underlying theme in Advent – advent, after all, points toward the “arrival” of something or someone. But hope is pale if it is not seen as an offering in the face of evil forces that assail the world during what Paul calls “this present evil age” (Galatians 1:4). 

In this sense, Advent is apocalyptic – a  “revealing” or “unveiling.” Unfortunately, apocalypse has become primarily associated with a terrible end to all things, but that’s not necessarily what the biblical writers meant when they used the word. Revelation, for example, is not an apocalypse simply because of what it says about the unfolding of terrible things in world history. It does unveil that, to be sure, but it’s an apocalypse primarily because of what it reveals or unveils about Jesus. In other words, an apocalypse may unveil terrible things, but it can also unveil wonderful things. In the Bible, apocalyptic literature like Revelation and Daniel does both. So, Advent is about an apocalyptic time. 

The prophets in the Old Testament had ‘unveiled’ two things: why God was angry at His people, and what He was going to do about it. 

The Israelites were God’s people; God had promised them great things. But they had a track record of remarkable disobedience, and they ended up living in exile in Babylonian. Read Jeremiah’s Lamentations - or any of the Old Testament prophets, really. They unveiled the people’s continuing unfaithfulness to God and their covenant with God. 

There’s a gap of hundreds of years between the Old and New Testament where the Jewish people believed God was silent.  There seemed to be no hope. It would have been easy to believe they had been abandoned by God: maybe he just wasn’t powerful enough to defeat the other gods; maybe He didn’t even exist; maybe he was angry beyond the breaking point. This must have been a time when their faith was tested in ways that are hard to understand.  Or…maybe we do. It’s not as if followers of Jesus have stopped struggling with feelings of despair, abandonment, disillusionment, or loss of hope.

But Jewish prophecy wasn’t simply about predicting something and then waiting for the fulfillment. It was often about pattern: showing how God has worked and is working so that the people will know how God will work. There was a constant uncovering of the eyes, constant apocalyptic glimpses of what is to come.[1]

The prophets made clear that their exile, and the silence of God for the centuries between the end of the OT and the beginning of the NT, was the reaping of what they had sown. God had told them what to expect if they were unfaithful. Now they know He’s serious. 

But the prophets also helped them dream of a new world, a new way of life in faithful covenant, a time when a messiah sent by the God who had not abandoned them would rescue them from their exile. God was faithful with all His promises, after all, not just the grim ones. He had promised that they were His people and that He would be faithful - that, too, was unveiled. 

Isaiah has pleaded, “Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down.” (Isaiah 64:1) And on the cross, there was indeed a rending – not just of the skin of the Savior, but of the curtain in the temple, decorated with stars to represent the heavens, the curtain the separated sinful, unwashed, morally impure humanity from the Holy of Holies. 

The Messiah had come. Those who live in great darkness will see a great light. (Isaiah 9:2; Matthew 4:16) The hope of an age to come in which they lived in the light of God’s blessing shone with increasing urgency.

“Advent is a season of being caught between the way things are and the way they will be. Or, perhaps better said, between the way things seem to be and the way things really are. In other words, Advent is a season during which we long for apocalypse. But as the preacher of Hebrews reminds us, “Faith is the reality of what we hope for, and the evidence of what we can’t see.” Advent is a season of faith. We light candles and trust that, as God has come before, so will God come again. We trust that no matter how dark the night, dawn is coming. We choose to hope. We choose to believe.”[2]

It turns out that the apocalypse is about a hope found in something beyond human history, something that is bigger than our personal or national cycles of optimism and despair. It is found in an incarnate God, one who arrives in the person of Christ (that’s the first advent), and one will return (that’s the second one).[3] During Advent season, we find hope in two arrivals: the one that changed history with a new covenant for His people, and the one that will wrap it up and make all things new.[4]

But we are in the middle of those two arrivals. And in that middle, it’s messy. And between the two bright lights of advent hope there are a lot of things that cast shadows. There are a lot of things that feel like exile, that feel hopeless, that cause us to question God’s goodness, or power, or existence. Advent season reminds us that we are asked to do something important: 

“Stand a watch…as the ever-encroaching darkness draws near, and to ultimately give witness to the victory of light over night. And then to stand in its glorious beams and see all things be made new.[5]

Advent is about light emerging from darkness.[6] Advent is about the apocalypse, the unveiling of the truth about the world – which involves both an honest look at the grim circumstances of a groaning world, but also the truth about the glorious Savior who has come to redeem and save. 

“Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” This is as Advent a proclamation as I can imagine. We live in the ‘is’, between the remembrance of Christ’s death and the expectation of his coming again at the end of all things. This means we live in the fact of his risen-ness…We cannot always clearly see Christ, but knowing that Christ is risen means we can stand up and welcome Christ in the crisis. Death no longer has dominion over him. Death has no dominion over us. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus—not the past, not the present, not the future. We wait for the end of all these things, but we look for Christ now, risen and gathering us for the end.[7]

 We live in the ‘is’, between the remembrance of Christ’s death and the expectation of his coming again at the end of all things. 

I want to linger here this morning. 

I was reading an article this week written by a Catholic who was acknowledging the terrible cost of the ‘apocalypse’ in the Catholic Church over the past few years, particularly the scandal of sexual abuse. He was noting the discouragement, disillusionment and anger in Catholics who were leaving the church. There was something about how he summarized it that has lingered with me.  

“Some people can only handle as much as they believe they can handle, and it is no easy thing to stand where we are and watch darkness grow where the light is fading. It is unsettling, disorienting. Despite the risk of injury, we want to run, get away from the dark, because we can’t bear to stay within it. 

But that is what Advent is asking us to do: to stay. To stand a watch in the [twilight] as the ever-encroaching darkness draws near, and to ultimately give witness to the victory of light over night. And then to stand in its glorious beams and see all things be made new. 

And so this is what I want to say to my friends who have left, or who are struggling; those who are halfway out the doors, or think they soon will be: My dear sisters and brothers, Hold on! Hold fast, and don’t run at the revelation! Don’t try to run through the fearsome darkness! 

Stay for Advent and stand the watch with me, with your family, with all of us... Be willing, for now, to keep company with Christ, so deeply wounded by his own Bride. Consent, for now, to share in the hard times before us (they will yet get harder, the darkness will grow deeper, still) and help us to hold, to hold fast! 

Because the light is coming; the darkness will never overcome it. Remember that Isra-el means “struggle with God.” We are all little Isra-els right now, wrestling, wrestling within his house and seeking our Jerusalem, our Abode of Peace. Hold on! Hold fast! 

Because an Advent promise has been made to us, and God is ever-faithful, so we may trust in it: Your light will come Jerusalem; the Lord will dawn on you in radiant beauty. This is for all of us. It is for you, and for me. It’s for every little Isra-el struggling. Your light will come. Just hold fast.”[8]

 

What “is” going on your life right now?

Is politics overwhelming you? Does every election now feel like an apocalypse in the Hollywood way, an unveiling of the disastrous end of all things? Do it feel like America or the church as we know it is being upended, or that the future will hold only pain? We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come. 

Is COVID scaring you, or frustrating you? Do the last 9 months make you question the wisdom of men and the godliness and faith of your fellow Christians? Does this feel like an apocalypse, an unveiling of the true state of the world and the church that brings you despair? Is it hard to see a way forward that involves peace and hope? We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

Did you lose a loved one this year through death, or through abandonment, or through relational distance that feels like a death? Do you wonder if this grief and emptiness will ever end? We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

Is your mental and emotional health on the line? If studies and private conversation are indication, a lot of us are struggling this year with depression, loneliness, and anxiety. Especially as winter moves in, things can feel bleak and lifeless. We wonder when we feel alive again. We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

Is your family in crisis? Maybe spending more time at home has not been a blessing. Maybe politics and Covid have pushed you apart.  Maybe this apocalyptic year has simply unveiled cracks in family foundations that had been easy to cover up. We wonder if what has been broken can possibly be repaired. We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

Has being part of this church been hard? Have you been frustrated with your church family here this past year? Me too. Have you felt like people around you just weren’t getting it!?!?! Me too. Do you wonder what 2021 holds for CLG?  Me too. We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

I want to close with a famous Christmas song written as a result of the Civil War. It captures this in-between time, the reality of waiting in a life that is hard for a hope that is sure. 

 

I HEARD THE BELLS ON CHRISTMAS DAY[9]

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

Then from each black, accursed mouth,
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound the carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn the households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

And in despair I bowed my head ; 
"There is no peace on earth," I said ; 
"For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: 
"God is not dead ; nor doth he sleep !
The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men !"


THREE QUESTIONS

  1. What kind of apocalypses have you experienced in your life? That is, times when God ‘unveils’ himself to you and changed your life?

  2. In what areas of your life do you long for an apocalypse? “Oh, that God would rend the heavens and come down.” (Hint: might be good subject matter that guides how you pray for each other if you are doing this in a small group).

  3. How might this change our lives if we genuinely fixed our eyes on the Two Advents instead of the darkness and shadows in which we live?

 ________________________________________________________________________________

[1] “Advent, the Apocalypse: A Constant Uncovering Of The Eyes.” https://www.patheos.com/blogs/sickpilgrim/2016/12/advent-the-apocalypse-a-constant-uncovering-of-the-eyes/

[2] “Anna And The Apocalypse And Advent.” https://www.reelworldtheology.com/anna-and-the-apocalypse-and-advent/

[3] “Why Apocalypse Is Essential To Advent.” https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2018/december-web-only/advent-apocalypse-fleming-rutledge-essential-to-this-season.html

[4] “Advent Apocalypse.” https://www.ministrymatters.com/all/entry/3388/advent-apocalypse

[5] “AMIDST OUR APOCALYPSE, ADVENT ASKS US TO STAY.” https://www.wordonfire.org/resources/blog/amidst-our-apocalypse-advent-asks-us-to-stay/5962/

[6] This darkness to light motif is thick in Scripture. We see the glorious beams that shine on new things over and over.

·       Creation. “Let their be light” and there is light that shines in the darkness.

·       It’s in a plague of darkness in Egypt, God shows his freeing power.

·       On a dark and stormy mountain, God reveals his covenant commandments to His people through Moses.

·       Jesus’ birth was at night, in the shadow of the Herod’s palace, yet the light of the star and the glory of the angels first pointed the way then illuminated it.  

·       There’s a fascinating story in Mark 5 where a demon-possessed man – bound in spiritual darkness – is the source of an unveiling:  “The demon recognizes his superior; in a Gospel that famously keeps the “messianic secret,” this is the first entity to identify exactly who Jesus is: “What do you want with me, Jesus Son of the Most High God?”[6]

·       The Resurrection happens at night, and is revealed in the morning.

·       The disciples are fishing before dawn, and the Resurrected Jesus appears in the morning. 

 

[7] “Advent Apocalypse.” https://www.mnys.org/from-pastors-desk/advent-apocalypse/

[8] “Amidst Our Apocalypse, Advent Asks Us To Stay.” https://www.wordonfire.org/resources/blog/amidst-our-apocalypse-advent-asks-us-to-stay/5962/

[9] Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, written while nursing his son back to health after a grievous injury in the Civil War. 

The Hope of the Resurrection

The following satirical letter to NYU has been floating around the internet for a while:

IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION  ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?

I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the areas of heat retention. I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.

I woo women with my god like trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am as expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I’m bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don’t perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. I bat 400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.

I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy.  I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations with the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down.  I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis. But I have not yet gone to college.

He’s a fantastic guy, but he is not real.  He sounds good, but neither I nor anyone else I know of will be restructuring their way of life to follow him, or introducing others to him, or starting a Church of The Living NYU Student, or wearing a bracelet (WWNYUSD). It doesn’t matter how great he sounds, he is not real (and neither was the letter). 

If Jesus was not real – if he was not who he said he was – then Christianity has nothing to offer that you can’t find in another worldview, a self-help shelf or a bottle. But if Jesus was who he claimed to be, then He matters in ways that nothing else does.[i]

This is what I want to address today – the reality of Jesus Christ. If you attend here throughout the year, you are going to hear over and over again how Jesus saves and transforms even the most broken and hopeless lives. You are going to here how God is awesome, and Jesus alone is worthy of our praise. You are going to here testimonies about how Jesus enters into our reality and changes us from the inside out. But this Sunday, I just want to talk about the reality of Jesus. [ii] The APOSTLES CREED (which probably dates from the second century) begins like this:

I believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only son, our Lord, Conceived of the Holy Spirit, Born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pilate, was crucified, dead and buried, [he descended to the dead] on the third day he rose again, he ascended into heaven, he is seated at the right hand of the Father, and he will come again to judge the living and the dead..,”

 If we have grown up in church or been a Christian for a while, we can lose sight of how fantastic this claim is.  The Incarnation says that God came to earth as a human being in order to save us from the penalty of our sins and restore peace between us and God. God made a good world; we break it. Over and over, we do the kinds of things that destroy peace with God, with others, and within. In an unbelievable act of love and grace, God himself took care of the penalty we deserved so that our sins could be forgiven and peace could be restored.  [iii]

 If you think that’s a fantastic claim today, so did those who lived with Jesus.

 THE BACKGROUND

The Jews had been waiting for a Messiah (a Savior) since David. Time and again they ended up enslaved to other nations. By the first century, they had spent several hundred years convinced that the Spirit of God had been removed from them. They were waiting for a Messiah who would do two key things to fix this broken world: defeat the enemy and liberate Israel (in Jesus' day, that was Rome), and purify / rebuild the temple.  Plenty of people claimed they were this promised Messiah.

  1. Judas Maccabeus 160's BC, entered Jerusalem at the head of an army,  purified the temple, destroyed altars to other gods, but was eventually killed in battle.

  2. Judas (of Galilee), Zealot, led revolt against Romans AD 6 (Acts 5). It failed.

  3. Theudas (mentioned in Acts 5.36) claimed to be a Messiah, and led about 400 people to the Jordan River, where he would divide it to show his power.  He was stopped and executed in AD 46.

  4. The Anonymous Egyptian (Jew), with 30,000 unarmed Jews, did a reenactment of Exodus around AD 55. He led them to the Mount of Olives, where he claimed he would command the walls around Jerusalem to fall.  His group was massacred by Procurator Antonius Felix, and he was never seen again.

  5. Simon bar Kokhba ca. 135), founded a short-lived Jewish state  that he ruled for 3 years before being defeated in the Second Jewish-Roman War.  580,000 Jewish people died.

 

No wonder John the Baptizer, while in jail awaiting his death, sent a message to Jesus: “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” This was John the Baptist, who once announced Jesus as, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” He needed to know if Jesus was the real deal.

 Jesus replied, “Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. And blessed are those who do not take offense in me.” (Luke 7)

That last line seems odd, but remember that the Jews were expecting a Messiah with a sword, not a healing touch.  Jesus is basically saying, ‘Don’t let this trip you up. This is what a real Messiah does.”[iv]

So after doing all these things to show He was who He claimed he was, Jesus’ crucifixion suggested that he was just another failed messiah. He had not freed them from Roman rule and had not restored the Temple as they expected.  Now he was dead and his followers were hiding. Typically, another person would be tagged to continue the movement, usually a family member or relative.

And yet three days after Jesus’ death this movement begins.

  • The early Christians claimed they had seen a Resurrected Messiah at a time when no one believed that individuals would be resurrected. The Greeks thought the soul would finally be rid of the body. The Jews believed in the coming Resurrection where the entire world would be renewed, but they did not believe in the personal resurrection of individuals.

  • They didn’t appoint a successor (which was the normal response at the time)

  • The early Christians said they had more hope than ever before, not because Roman rule was gone but because they had been offered life in a Kingdom that was not of this world.

  • They claimed that Jesus had set them free from a much greater problem than Roman rule – the just and eternal consequence of their sin.

  • They claimed that the community of the church was now the temple, and it was being restored as the people in it were transformed into the image of risen Christ who was at work inside them through His Spirit and His word.

  • They worshipped Jesus at a time when worship of a human was blasphemous to the Jews and potentially traitorous to the Romans. 

The early followers of Christ reordered their entire worldview, changed their view of God, and radically changed their way of life to the point of being willing to die. Why? What had happened to cause them to confidently make this claim? [v]

It was the belief that Jesus had resurrected. He had shown He was the Christ, God in the flesh, by showing his mastery over death.

 “But when they looked up, they saw that the stone had been rolled away – for it was very large.  And entering the tomb, they saw a young man clothed in a long white robe sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed.  But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed.  You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.  He is risen. He is not here.  See the place where they laid Him.  But go, tell His disciples – and Peter- that He is going before you into Galilee, and there you will see Him, as He said to you.” (Mark: 16:4-7) 

Several years later, after a miraculous conversion that moved him from a killer of Christians to an apostle of Christ, Paul would write that the power and hope of Christ’s Resurrection is meant to bring us to life. 

As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world… all of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature and following its desires and thoughts… because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus…” (Ephesians 2:1-10) 

We are all in need of a Savior. We cannot save ourselves from the sin and brokenness within us and around us.  Nothing outside of us can save us either. We won’t be saved by a new tax system or a higher minimum wage or better health care or another person who will ‘complete us’.  We don’t need a better social circle or more money or amazing sex or the latest I-something. Substitute saviors will never save us.  We know this. They have failed us time and again, and then ones we think are working now will fail us too.

Christ offers to raise us out of sin, despair and death.  As Tim Keller says, because of Christ we are offered the hope that one day “everything sad will come untrue.” The very things that were once a sign of the deadness and despair of sin can be the very things that are a testimony to the life-giving power of Christ. 

That is what Easter offers to us.  The Crucifixion showed us how much God is willing to sacrifice for our good. Our salvation cost Him a crucifixion. The Resurrection of Christ shows us that Jesus has the power to do what He claimed.  We, who are sinful, broken and so often wondering if there is any hope, have an answer. 

“God so loved the world, that He gave His Son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish, but have eternal life. For God did not send His son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.”  (John 3:16-17)

This is the heart of Christianity, and it is the hope of Resurrection.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

RECOMMENDED RESOURCES

Cold Case Christianity, J. Warner Wallace

The Reason for God, Timothy Keller

Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis

The Case for Christ and The Case for the Real Jesus, Lee Strobel

The Case for the Resurrection of Jesus, by Gary Habermas and Mike Liconna

The Jesus I Never Knew, Phillip Yancey

What if Jesus Had Never Been Born? D. James Kennedy

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, C.S. Lewis (fiction)

The Sin Eater, Francine Rivers (fiction)

A.D. 30, Ted Dekker (fiction – recommended to me)

The Gospel of John (movie)

 

ENDNOTES

[i]  By way of contrast, the historicity of the founder of other world religious does not carry the same level of importance in other major world religions. Buddhism does not rise and fall on the historical reality of Siddartha – which is good, because the earliest records start 2 to 3 centuries after his death, and some of the trusted manuscripts appear 1,000 years later. Hinduism does not rise and fall on the reality of anyone.  It is not based on historical truth, but revealed principles. (If fact, it sees history as a weak point for other religions, because they become falsifiable.) Islam does not rise or fall on whether or not Mohammed rose from the dead, or was who he claimed he was. He was a prophet, not a Savior.

[ii] For the extra-biblical evidence about the life and person of Jesus, check out an article by J.Warner Wallace, “Is There Any Evidence for Jesus Outside the Bible?”  (http://coldcasechristianity.com/2014/is-there-any-evidence-for-jesus-outside-the-bible/)

[iii] The death of Jesus was understood by the early Christians as a fulfillment of a covenant God had made centuries earlier.When God made a covenant with Abraham in Genesis 15 (and following), he used the standard form of what was called suzerain covenant-making. In typical fashion, Abraham killed some animals, cut them in pieces, and arranged them to walk through. Typically, both parties or just the weaker party would walk through the dissected animals as a way of saying, “If I break our covenant, may this be done to me as punishment.” But then only God, the stronger party, passed through (as a fiery pillar) – but never made Abraham, the weaker party, do the same.

By passing through the slaughtered animal, God was saying that if He didn’t bless Abraham and honor the covenant, God – the stronger, initiating party - would have to pay the penalty. That alone would be unusual, but that wasn’t the most incredible point. God was saying that if Abraham doesn’t keep the covenant, God would pay the penalty for Abraham.

This was unprecedented. God was clearly not a consumer god, paying attention and blessing us because we made him happy.  God was a covenant god, but completely different from the wealthy, powerful lords of earth. He gave the rules, established the penalty of rule-breaking, then committed to paying that penalty for everybody.

What kind of God would do that? A God who arrives in the person of Jesus Christ. On the cross, Jesus fulfilled the conditions of the covenant by paying Abraham’s penalty. We commemorate this every time we partake in communion – His body broken, His blood spilled. The covenant must be honored. Someone must pay for breaking the agreement.

Read more at “The Only Thing That Counts,” http://nightfallsandautumnleaves.blogspot.com/2013/10/the-only-thing-that-counts-galatians-51.html

[iv]  There are at least two key reasons Jesus performed miracles.

Miracles confirmed Jesus’ divine mission

  • He “manifested His glory” at the marriage feast in Cana, so his disciples “believed in Him.” (John 2:11)

  • "Men of Israel, listen to this:  Jesus of Nazareth was a man accredited by God to you by miracles, wonders and signs, which God did among you through Him, as you yourselves know.  (Acts 2:22)

  • “Even though you do not believe me, believe the miracles, that you may know and understand that the Father is in me, and I in the Father." (John 10:38)

Miracles confirmed the message of the gospel  (Hebrews 2:1-4;  John 2:18-21;   Matthew 12:38)

Then the Jews demanded of him, ‘What miraculous sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this?’  Jesus answered them, ‘Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.’ The Jews replied, ‘It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and you are going to raise it in three days?’ But the temple he had spoken of was his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said. Then they believed the Scripture and the words that Jesus had spoken.” (John 2:18-21)

“...This salvation, which was first announced by the Lord, was confirmed to us by those who heard him. God also testified to it by signs, wonders and various miracles, and gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will.”  ( Hebrews 2:1-4)

“Which is easier: to say to the paralytic, 'Your sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Get up, take your mat and walk'? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins . . . ." He said to the paralytic, "I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home." He got up, took his mat and walked out in full view of them all. This amazed everyone and they praised God, saying, "We have never seen anything like this!"”     (Mark 2:9-12)

[v] “If we are to think in first-century Jewish terms, it is impossible to conceive what sort of religious or spiritual experience someone could have that would make them say that the kingdom of God had arrived when it clearly had not, that a crucified leader was the Messiah when he obviously was not, or that the resurrection occurred last month when it obviously did not.”  - N.T. Wright