Baby changes everything
Commentary
Object:
As one congregation went through years of great growth and expansion, it became obvious that there could not be any more additions to its current facilities. A massive new capital campaign was launched, a ten-acre property was purchased, and architects began to design a new ministry center. Members of the church were involved at every step of the way, and many good ideas were incorporated into the layout and decorating schemes.
One Bible study group suggested that a scriptural text should be painted over the passages into each distinct ministry area of the new building. When the doors finally opened and members of the congregation wandered through the fresh facilities, many stopped to read and appreciate the dedicatory verses. Over the main entrance were the words "My house shall be a house of prayer for all nations" (Isaiah 56:7), and when people turned around to see the message that would face those who were leaving, they viewed Jesus' final command to his disciples: "Go and make disciples of all nations" (Matthew 28:19). Above the doors to the worship auditorium was the powerful phrase from the Psalmist: "Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise!" (Psalm 100:4). At the fellowship hall came the testimony "They broke bread and ate together with glad and sincere hearts" (Acts 2:46), and emblazoned over the doors into the educational wing was the reminder "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom" (Proverbs 1:7).
The general response to these Bible verses was very positive. But one of them raised more than a few eyebrows. At the reception desk of the infant nursery was posted "We shall not all sleep, but we shall be changed" (1 Corinthians 15:51)!
Those are fitting words for a room full of babies! But diapers are not the only things changed when the wee ones are around. Parents are changed. Houses are changed. Families are changed. Neighborhoods are changed. Society is changed.
Bret Harte described that whimsically well in his short story "The Luck of Roaring Camp." In a California gold miners' camp, the local woman of ill-repute, Cherokee Sal, dies in childbirth. She never discloses who fathered the baby, so, with a guilty conscience, the entire dirty settlement owns him.
But the rough and reckless and raw existence of a mining camp is at odds with the helpless innocence of a newborn, now called Tommy Luck. First a bed needs to be made and clean sheets found. People have to take turns holding and feeding the baby, and even the noisy camp has to shut down during naptime. Within weeks, no visitor to Roaring Camp would recognize the place. A baby had changed everything.
Each of our lectionary passages for today is about a baby who changes everything. When the Assyrians threatened Ahaz' little kingdom of Judah, Yahweh promised deliverance through Isaiah, and sealed the deal with a birth announcement. Paul testifies to the Christian congregation in Rome that the coming of baby Jesus into our world has changed everything for him and for them. And when Matthew retells the story of Jesus' birth, he remembers how the event changed Joseph's life forever. This baby changes everything for everyone!
Isaiah 7:10-16
Who was Isaiah? His name meant "Salvation is of Yahweh," and this truly typified his words and prophecies. He was married (Isaiah 8:3) and had at least two children (Isaiah 7:3; 8:3), who were themselves illustrations of Isaiah's prophetic declarations. The commissioning scene of Isaiah 6, with its temple location, along with all of the liturgical language surrounding Isaiah's call, suggests that Isaiah might have been a priest, or at least a member of a Levite family. At the same time, his easy and constant access to successive kings (cf. Isaiah 7:3; 38:1; 39:1) might imply that he was an employee of the royal court, although his statement in 37:6 ("Say to your master…") could be interpreted as setting him outside of the political system, at least at some point. Nevertheless, with the narratives of chapters 36-39 incorporated directly into the book, Isaiah obviously was at minimum a court recorder or scribe or historian of some kind (see also 2 Chronicles 26:22). Most likely he was the chief historian in the royal house, and possibly even a member of the extended royal family. In his duties he appears to have functioned as the official scribe or court recorder. Using that platform as a pulpit, he expressed magnificently worded prophetic analyses and judgments about the religious and political actions of the kings.
Isaiah was overwhelmed by a divine commissioning (6) that took place in the temple during the year that King Uzziah died. He was guided by the theology of the Sinai covenant (2-5), which mandated that Israel was supposed to have a unique lifestyle among the nations, a set of behaviors that would serve as a missional call for others to join this holy community in a global return to the ways of their Creator. He was confident that Yahweh could resolve all political problems (7-11), no matter how daunting they might seem. He believed Israel/Judah needed to repent (12), and recover their original identity and purpose as Yahweh's covenant partners and witnesses. He was certain that Yahweh was sovereign over all nations (13-35), even if Yahweh's primary focus was attached to Israel/Judah. He heard the heartbeat of divine love and compassion, wrestling for the soul and destiny of Israel/Judah as a loved companion and partner (36-41). He saw Yahweh transforming Israel's/Judah's identity and fortunes through a "Suffering Servant" leader (42-53). He envisioned a future age in which all the world and every society and even the universe itself would be restored to harmony with its Creator and would resonate with magnificent glory (56-66).
Among the prophets of ancient Israel, Isaiah was truly a prince, and his writings shaped the language of theological reflection among his peers and on into the age of the New Testament church. And that is why so many snippets of Isaiah's ancient declarations continue to find their way into our modern Advent celebrations. Isaiah lived in a time of great crisis, when everyone was certain that the Assyrians were about to end all life as they knew it. The writing was on the wall. Very soon Judah's northern brother Israel would fall to that militaristic world power, and King Ahaz was dithering about like a plucked chicken with no place to hide.
It had been clear to Yahweh for some time that the kings of Israel following Solomon were not walking in the steps of great King David. In the north, beginning with Elijah and Elisha, God's leadership of the people had already shifted from the unfaithful kings to the stern prophets. In today's lectionary reading the same is taking place in the south. Ahaz, grandson of notorious King Ahab, is looking for a way to stem the inevitable flood of destruction, and by way of prophet Isaiah, Yahweh provides an out. Stay strong, stay free from allies, trust Yahweh, and deliverance will come.
With fake piety, Ahaz pretends not to want to bother God. But God wants to be bothered about things that truly matter. So God promises Ahaz a sign in spite of the kingly protests. A child will soon be born, said Isaiah, Yahweh's spokesperson. Within nine month, the threats from the north would dissipate, and Judah's salvation would be secured. The truth will be revealed: "Immanuel! God is with us!"
So it is that we who live in a world overshadowed by superpowers and super-viruses, terrorism and trauma, continue to wait on God's promises, and the coming of the divine deliverer. We still get scared in the dark. And we still hope for Immanuel.
Romans 1:1-7
Somewhere around late 53 AD, the social and economic impact of the Christian gospel began to be felt acutely in Ephesus (see Acts 19). Among the many cultural and civic resources of that city was its shrine to Artemis (known among the Romans as Diana). This temple was considered to be one of the seven wonders of the world. In fact, a great portion of the economy of Ephesus was derived from the cultic activities surrounding the temple, along with the religious tourist trade it brought to the city. As Christian adherents multiplied in Ephesus, and numbers of participants in the religious and social services related to the temple decreased, the local business world felt deeply challenged.
In response, "a silversmith named Demetrius" called together other craftsmen, and incited a public riot that brought the city to a standstill (Acts 19:23-41). Local government officials eventually defused the situation, but Paul believed the time had come for him to move on. He traveled around the Aegean Sea, collecting the offerings that had been set aside in the churches for the large benevolence gift he was planning to bring to Jerusalem. Paul arrived in Corinth either late in 53 or early in 54 and stayed three months with his friend Gaius (Acts 19:1-3; Romans 16:23). When he found that another acquaintance (and a leader in the Christian congregation located in Cenchrea, one of Corinth's seaport suburbs) named Phoebe was making a trip to Rome (Romans 16:1), Paul quickly penned what has become the most orderly summary of early Christian theology.
Because Paul had not yet made a visit to Rome, this letter was less personal and more rationally organized than was often otherwise true. Paul intended this missive to be a working document; the congregation, already established in the capital city of the empire, would be able to read and discuss it together, in anticipation of Paul's arrival, which was planned for some months ahead (Romans 1:6-15). Paul summarized his working theme and emphasis up front: a new expression of the "righteousness of God" had been recently revealed, with great power, through the coming of Jesus Christ (Romans 1:17).
Jesus is Lord of all, Paul fairly shouts at the beginning, producing wonderful new life in all who are part of the church, both Jews who have long waited for their Messiah and also for Gentiles, newly incorporated into the family of faith. Probably because of the controversy revolving around Paul's sense of his mission to the Gentiles, a brief reminder comes that Jews and Gentiles are together on the same footing before God because of the powerful redemptive work of Jesus. As he begins to celebrate this amazing grace of God, Paul interrupts himself, reminding his readers of the specific calling he has received to know and communicate this divine revelation. Then Paul launches into an extended metaphor on what it means for the living body of Christ (see Romans 12) to function in a dark world where, for too long, the righteousness of God (Romans 1:17) has been either hidden or ignored. Now that Jesus has arrived, grace and faith are expanding everywhere.
Matthew 1:18-25
When Matthew tells us of the manner in which Jesus came into this world, he declares, like Isaac, Samson, and Samuel, that this baby is a divinely sent deliverer. Each of these other great figures in Israel's history was miraculously born to mothers who were barren, and all of them provided new hope for their families and also the whole of the people of Yahweh. As with those earlier stories, here an angelic messenger explains the matter to one of the soon-to-be parents (Joseph), and provides a name for the child. "He will save his people," says the angel. Picking up on the word of Yahweh that came through Isaiah to ancient King Ahaz (Isaiah 7:11), Matthew informs us that history is repeating itself.
Each of these deliverers of God's people changed the course of history. Abram and Sarai were far too old to have a baby. They knew that themselves; it was the reason why Sarai sent her maid Hagar to have sexual intercourse with Abram and make a baby Sarai could claim for her own. Yet God managed the impossible, and Isaac was born to his ancient parents, causing them "Laughter" (the meaning of Isaac's name) that they never had anticipated. Isaac's birth became the first step toward the amazing family growth story that was eventually Israel herself.
Samson came along, to otherwise barren parents, when the crisis of ungodliness and Philistine domination threatened the Israelites. Stronger than an ox, and more unruly than a cornered bear, Samson was nevertheless Yahweh's agent for Israelite deliverance. He tangled with the enemy and killed many of their soldiers. He shamed Philistine society and burned the fields. Samson was an embarrassment to his enemies, his own people, his family, his girlfriends, and himself, but he was also a divinely sent deliverer. And that became his ultimate claim to fame, particularly when he learned humility and renewed his connection with the God of his homeland.
Above all, it was Samuel who had God's ear. Born to a barren mother by a miraculous answer to prayer (1 Samuel 1), Samuel lived at a time when "the word of God was rare" (1 Samuel 3:1). This was a tragedy and great misfortune for a people who lived by the very word of the Lord. When God called out in the night, it was not the priest Eli who heard it, but little Samuel (1 Samuel 2). For decades he would become the hotline to heaven for the Israelites. And it was because God had the ear of Samuel that Samuel had the ear of God. When Samuel prayed, things changed. Samuel was the great deliverer of the Israelites.
So when Matthew explains the circumstances of Jesus' entrance into our world, he draws the connections carefully. A baby like this changes everything. He changes Joseph's life. He changes Mary's life. He changes life for the family and neighborhood. But most of all, he changes life for the whole of the people of God. "He will save his people from their sins." And the world has never been the same.
Application
Circumstances change. Happenings happen for a while, and then stop happening. We need to pin our goals and values on something deeper than shifting sands. That is precisely why the great change produced by Jesus is so earthshaking. This change links us to the great unchanging testimony of scripture, that God's love for us never changes, never dips, never flags, never fails. God's mercies are new every morning.
When we are in tune with the Creator and the creation, temporary dissonance and discord are momentary ripples that soon will be smoothed into the larger patterns of life's fabric. Henry Francis Lyte was only 54, but several years of illness had kept him from functioning to full potential in his congregation in a small fishing village. His limitations seemed to have fostered problems in the church. At one time worship services were crowded, and over 800 children were taught by 70 teachers in the Sunday school program. At one time he knew the names of every boat in the harbor and every man who walked the docks. At one time his tireless care and enthusiasm drew even skeptics to Christ.
But now he was failing rapidly. His doctor told him to quit the ministry. His congregation was falling apart. And here he sat on a bluff above the sea, wondering what message to bring for his last Sunday evening sermon.
The points and outline wouldn't come. They were crowded out by the cares and troubles that surrounded him. But then a prayer began to form in his mind that softly caressed his vision back into focus. The prayer began to sing itself. And by the time his people gathered for worship, a new hymn called them into the presence of God.
Henry Lyte died a few months later. But he died a blessed man. And people in churches around the world know that each time they open their hymnbooks to sing his prayer: "Abide with Me!"
Abide with me! Fast falls the evening tide.
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide!
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou Who changest not, abide with me!
I need your presence every passing hour;
What but your grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who like yourself my guide and strength can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me!
Not a bad testimony for us to make during Advent, when we know the changelessness of God's love toward us, the changes that happened to our world when the baby came, and the hope we have for faith's unchanging courage during these rapidly changing times.
An Alternative Application
Romans 1:1-7. There is a powerful scene in Robert Bolt's play A Man for All Seasons. The story is that of Sir Thomas More, loyal subject of the English crown. King Henry VIII wants to change things to suit his own devious plans, so he requires all his nobles to swear an oath of allegiance which violates the conscience of Sir Thomas More before his God. Since he will not swear the oath, More is put in jail. His daughter Margaret comes to visit him. "Meg," he calls her, with affection. She's his pride and joy, the one who thinks his thoughts after him.
Meg comes to plead with her father in prison. "Take the oath, Father!" she urges him. "Take it with your mouth, if you can't take it with your heart! Take it and return to us! You can't do us any good in here! And you can't be there for us if the king should execute you!"
She's right in so many ways! Yet her father answers her this way: "Meg, when a man swears an oath, he holds himself in his hands like water, and if he opens his fingers, how can he hope to find himself again?"
You know what he means, don't you? When our lives begin to fragment, it's like holding our lives like water in our hands, and then letting our fingers come apart just a little bit. The water of our very selves dribbles away. We may look like the same people, but who we are inside has begun to change.
This is why Paul comes pointing the way to another kingdom. Here there will be no separation between the impulse of the heart and the thought of the mind, and the word of the mouth and the action of the hands. Somehow, everything about the coming kingdom is integrated. That's the meaning of the words "righteousness" and "integrity," isn't it? Pure in heart!
When the one of righteousness and integrity arrives, this world must change. This is why we celebrate Advent over and over, until the coming again of God's anointed one. When Bill Moyers interviewed Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen, she told him how it was for her. Dr. Remen has founded several institutes for the care of cancer patients. She said that sometimes she has a much greater sense of integrity within during those times when she isn't feeling all that well physically. Bill asked her what she meant by "integrity," and she replied "that I am what I am..." She said that even with her wounds and her weaknesses "there's an essence and a uniqueness and a beauty" about her life that is whole and complete. Integrity. Pure in heart. The peaceable kingdom.
Jesus raises the banner of heaven's royal claims over both Gentile and Jewish territory, and thus is the source of political allegiances that supersede temporal boundaries. This is very good news during Advent, when the nations of the earth conspire against one another and only the Christian church can effect a trans-national celebration of the politics of grace. The peaceable kingdom.
One Bible study group suggested that a scriptural text should be painted over the passages into each distinct ministry area of the new building. When the doors finally opened and members of the congregation wandered through the fresh facilities, many stopped to read and appreciate the dedicatory verses. Over the main entrance were the words "My house shall be a house of prayer for all nations" (Isaiah 56:7), and when people turned around to see the message that would face those who were leaving, they viewed Jesus' final command to his disciples: "Go and make disciples of all nations" (Matthew 28:19). Above the doors to the worship auditorium was the powerful phrase from the Psalmist: "Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise!" (Psalm 100:4). At the fellowship hall came the testimony "They broke bread and ate together with glad and sincere hearts" (Acts 2:46), and emblazoned over the doors into the educational wing was the reminder "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom" (Proverbs 1:7).
The general response to these Bible verses was very positive. But one of them raised more than a few eyebrows. At the reception desk of the infant nursery was posted "We shall not all sleep, but we shall be changed" (1 Corinthians 15:51)!
Those are fitting words for a room full of babies! But diapers are not the only things changed when the wee ones are around. Parents are changed. Houses are changed. Families are changed. Neighborhoods are changed. Society is changed.
Bret Harte described that whimsically well in his short story "The Luck of Roaring Camp." In a California gold miners' camp, the local woman of ill-repute, Cherokee Sal, dies in childbirth. She never discloses who fathered the baby, so, with a guilty conscience, the entire dirty settlement owns him.
But the rough and reckless and raw existence of a mining camp is at odds with the helpless innocence of a newborn, now called Tommy Luck. First a bed needs to be made and clean sheets found. People have to take turns holding and feeding the baby, and even the noisy camp has to shut down during naptime. Within weeks, no visitor to Roaring Camp would recognize the place. A baby had changed everything.
Each of our lectionary passages for today is about a baby who changes everything. When the Assyrians threatened Ahaz' little kingdom of Judah, Yahweh promised deliverance through Isaiah, and sealed the deal with a birth announcement. Paul testifies to the Christian congregation in Rome that the coming of baby Jesus into our world has changed everything for him and for them. And when Matthew retells the story of Jesus' birth, he remembers how the event changed Joseph's life forever. This baby changes everything for everyone!
Isaiah 7:10-16
Who was Isaiah? His name meant "Salvation is of Yahweh," and this truly typified his words and prophecies. He was married (Isaiah 8:3) and had at least two children (Isaiah 7:3; 8:3), who were themselves illustrations of Isaiah's prophetic declarations. The commissioning scene of Isaiah 6, with its temple location, along with all of the liturgical language surrounding Isaiah's call, suggests that Isaiah might have been a priest, or at least a member of a Levite family. At the same time, his easy and constant access to successive kings (cf. Isaiah 7:3; 38:1; 39:1) might imply that he was an employee of the royal court, although his statement in 37:6 ("Say to your master…") could be interpreted as setting him outside of the political system, at least at some point. Nevertheless, with the narratives of chapters 36-39 incorporated directly into the book, Isaiah obviously was at minimum a court recorder or scribe or historian of some kind (see also 2 Chronicles 26:22). Most likely he was the chief historian in the royal house, and possibly even a member of the extended royal family. In his duties he appears to have functioned as the official scribe or court recorder. Using that platform as a pulpit, he expressed magnificently worded prophetic analyses and judgments about the religious and political actions of the kings.
Isaiah was overwhelmed by a divine commissioning (6) that took place in the temple during the year that King Uzziah died. He was guided by the theology of the Sinai covenant (2-5), which mandated that Israel was supposed to have a unique lifestyle among the nations, a set of behaviors that would serve as a missional call for others to join this holy community in a global return to the ways of their Creator. He was confident that Yahweh could resolve all political problems (7-11), no matter how daunting they might seem. He believed Israel/Judah needed to repent (12), and recover their original identity and purpose as Yahweh's covenant partners and witnesses. He was certain that Yahweh was sovereign over all nations (13-35), even if Yahweh's primary focus was attached to Israel/Judah. He heard the heartbeat of divine love and compassion, wrestling for the soul and destiny of Israel/Judah as a loved companion and partner (36-41). He saw Yahweh transforming Israel's/Judah's identity and fortunes through a "Suffering Servant" leader (42-53). He envisioned a future age in which all the world and every society and even the universe itself would be restored to harmony with its Creator and would resonate with magnificent glory (56-66).
Among the prophets of ancient Israel, Isaiah was truly a prince, and his writings shaped the language of theological reflection among his peers and on into the age of the New Testament church. And that is why so many snippets of Isaiah's ancient declarations continue to find their way into our modern Advent celebrations. Isaiah lived in a time of great crisis, when everyone was certain that the Assyrians were about to end all life as they knew it. The writing was on the wall. Very soon Judah's northern brother Israel would fall to that militaristic world power, and King Ahaz was dithering about like a plucked chicken with no place to hide.
It had been clear to Yahweh for some time that the kings of Israel following Solomon were not walking in the steps of great King David. In the north, beginning with Elijah and Elisha, God's leadership of the people had already shifted from the unfaithful kings to the stern prophets. In today's lectionary reading the same is taking place in the south. Ahaz, grandson of notorious King Ahab, is looking for a way to stem the inevitable flood of destruction, and by way of prophet Isaiah, Yahweh provides an out. Stay strong, stay free from allies, trust Yahweh, and deliverance will come.
With fake piety, Ahaz pretends not to want to bother God. But God wants to be bothered about things that truly matter. So God promises Ahaz a sign in spite of the kingly protests. A child will soon be born, said Isaiah, Yahweh's spokesperson. Within nine month, the threats from the north would dissipate, and Judah's salvation would be secured. The truth will be revealed: "Immanuel! God is with us!"
So it is that we who live in a world overshadowed by superpowers and super-viruses, terrorism and trauma, continue to wait on God's promises, and the coming of the divine deliverer. We still get scared in the dark. And we still hope for Immanuel.
Romans 1:1-7
Somewhere around late 53 AD, the social and economic impact of the Christian gospel began to be felt acutely in Ephesus (see Acts 19). Among the many cultural and civic resources of that city was its shrine to Artemis (known among the Romans as Diana). This temple was considered to be one of the seven wonders of the world. In fact, a great portion of the economy of Ephesus was derived from the cultic activities surrounding the temple, along with the religious tourist trade it brought to the city. As Christian adherents multiplied in Ephesus, and numbers of participants in the religious and social services related to the temple decreased, the local business world felt deeply challenged.
In response, "a silversmith named Demetrius" called together other craftsmen, and incited a public riot that brought the city to a standstill (Acts 19:23-41). Local government officials eventually defused the situation, but Paul believed the time had come for him to move on. He traveled around the Aegean Sea, collecting the offerings that had been set aside in the churches for the large benevolence gift he was planning to bring to Jerusalem. Paul arrived in Corinth either late in 53 or early in 54 and stayed three months with his friend Gaius (Acts 19:1-3; Romans 16:23). When he found that another acquaintance (and a leader in the Christian congregation located in Cenchrea, one of Corinth's seaport suburbs) named Phoebe was making a trip to Rome (Romans 16:1), Paul quickly penned what has become the most orderly summary of early Christian theology.
Because Paul had not yet made a visit to Rome, this letter was less personal and more rationally organized than was often otherwise true. Paul intended this missive to be a working document; the congregation, already established in the capital city of the empire, would be able to read and discuss it together, in anticipation of Paul's arrival, which was planned for some months ahead (Romans 1:6-15). Paul summarized his working theme and emphasis up front: a new expression of the "righteousness of God" had been recently revealed, with great power, through the coming of Jesus Christ (Romans 1:17).
Jesus is Lord of all, Paul fairly shouts at the beginning, producing wonderful new life in all who are part of the church, both Jews who have long waited for their Messiah and also for Gentiles, newly incorporated into the family of faith. Probably because of the controversy revolving around Paul's sense of his mission to the Gentiles, a brief reminder comes that Jews and Gentiles are together on the same footing before God because of the powerful redemptive work of Jesus. As he begins to celebrate this amazing grace of God, Paul interrupts himself, reminding his readers of the specific calling he has received to know and communicate this divine revelation. Then Paul launches into an extended metaphor on what it means for the living body of Christ (see Romans 12) to function in a dark world where, for too long, the righteousness of God (Romans 1:17) has been either hidden or ignored. Now that Jesus has arrived, grace and faith are expanding everywhere.
Matthew 1:18-25
When Matthew tells us of the manner in which Jesus came into this world, he declares, like Isaac, Samson, and Samuel, that this baby is a divinely sent deliverer. Each of these other great figures in Israel's history was miraculously born to mothers who were barren, and all of them provided new hope for their families and also the whole of the people of Yahweh. As with those earlier stories, here an angelic messenger explains the matter to one of the soon-to-be parents (Joseph), and provides a name for the child. "He will save his people," says the angel. Picking up on the word of Yahweh that came through Isaiah to ancient King Ahaz (Isaiah 7:11), Matthew informs us that history is repeating itself.
Each of these deliverers of God's people changed the course of history. Abram and Sarai were far too old to have a baby. They knew that themselves; it was the reason why Sarai sent her maid Hagar to have sexual intercourse with Abram and make a baby Sarai could claim for her own. Yet God managed the impossible, and Isaac was born to his ancient parents, causing them "Laughter" (the meaning of Isaac's name) that they never had anticipated. Isaac's birth became the first step toward the amazing family growth story that was eventually Israel herself.
Samson came along, to otherwise barren parents, when the crisis of ungodliness and Philistine domination threatened the Israelites. Stronger than an ox, and more unruly than a cornered bear, Samson was nevertheless Yahweh's agent for Israelite deliverance. He tangled with the enemy and killed many of their soldiers. He shamed Philistine society and burned the fields. Samson was an embarrassment to his enemies, his own people, his family, his girlfriends, and himself, but he was also a divinely sent deliverer. And that became his ultimate claim to fame, particularly when he learned humility and renewed his connection with the God of his homeland.
Above all, it was Samuel who had God's ear. Born to a barren mother by a miraculous answer to prayer (1 Samuel 1), Samuel lived at a time when "the word of God was rare" (1 Samuel 3:1). This was a tragedy and great misfortune for a people who lived by the very word of the Lord. When God called out in the night, it was not the priest Eli who heard it, but little Samuel (1 Samuel 2). For decades he would become the hotline to heaven for the Israelites. And it was because God had the ear of Samuel that Samuel had the ear of God. When Samuel prayed, things changed. Samuel was the great deliverer of the Israelites.
So when Matthew explains the circumstances of Jesus' entrance into our world, he draws the connections carefully. A baby like this changes everything. He changes Joseph's life. He changes Mary's life. He changes life for the family and neighborhood. But most of all, he changes life for the whole of the people of God. "He will save his people from their sins." And the world has never been the same.
Application
Circumstances change. Happenings happen for a while, and then stop happening. We need to pin our goals and values on something deeper than shifting sands. That is precisely why the great change produced by Jesus is so earthshaking. This change links us to the great unchanging testimony of scripture, that God's love for us never changes, never dips, never flags, never fails. God's mercies are new every morning.
When we are in tune with the Creator and the creation, temporary dissonance and discord are momentary ripples that soon will be smoothed into the larger patterns of life's fabric. Henry Francis Lyte was only 54, but several years of illness had kept him from functioning to full potential in his congregation in a small fishing village. His limitations seemed to have fostered problems in the church. At one time worship services were crowded, and over 800 children were taught by 70 teachers in the Sunday school program. At one time he knew the names of every boat in the harbor and every man who walked the docks. At one time his tireless care and enthusiasm drew even skeptics to Christ.
But now he was failing rapidly. His doctor told him to quit the ministry. His congregation was falling apart. And here he sat on a bluff above the sea, wondering what message to bring for his last Sunday evening sermon.
The points and outline wouldn't come. They were crowded out by the cares and troubles that surrounded him. But then a prayer began to form in his mind that softly caressed his vision back into focus. The prayer began to sing itself. And by the time his people gathered for worship, a new hymn called them into the presence of God.
Henry Lyte died a few months later. But he died a blessed man. And people in churches around the world know that each time they open their hymnbooks to sing his prayer: "Abide with Me!"
Abide with me! Fast falls the evening tide.
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide!
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou Who changest not, abide with me!
I need your presence every passing hour;
What but your grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who like yourself my guide and strength can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me!
Not a bad testimony for us to make during Advent, when we know the changelessness of God's love toward us, the changes that happened to our world when the baby came, and the hope we have for faith's unchanging courage during these rapidly changing times.
An Alternative Application
Romans 1:1-7. There is a powerful scene in Robert Bolt's play A Man for All Seasons. The story is that of Sir Thomas More, loyal subject of the English crown. King Henry VIII wants to change things to suit his own devious plans, so he requires all his nobles to swear an oath of allegiance which violates the conscience of Sir Thomas More before his God. Since he will not swear the oath, More is put in jail. His daughter Margaret comes to visit him. "Meg," he calls her, with affection. She's his pride and joy, the one who thinks his thoughts after him.
Meg comes to plead with her father in prison. "Take the oath, Father!" she urges him. "Take it with your mouth, if you can't take it with your heart! Take it and return to us! You can't do us any good in here! And you can't be there for us if the king should execute you!"
She's right in so many ways! Yet her father answers her this way: "Meg, when a man swears an oath, he holds himself in his hands like water, and if he opens his fingers, how can he hope to find himself again?"
You know what he means, don't you? When our lives begin to fragment, it's like holding our lives like water in our hands, and then letting our fingers come apart just a little bit. The water of our very selves dribbles away. We may look like the same people, but who we are inside has begun to change.
This is why Paul comes pointing the way to another kingdom. Here there will be no separation between the impulse of the heart and the thought of the mind, and the word of the mouth and the action of the hands. Somehow, everything about the coming kingdom is integrated. That's the meaning of the words "righteousness" and "integrity," isn't it? Pure in heart!
When the one of righteousness and integrity arrives, this world must change. This is why we celebrate Advent over and over, until the coming again of God's anointed one. When Bill Moyers interviewed Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen, she told him how it was for her. Dr. Remen has founded several institutes for the care of cancer patients. She said that sometimes she has a much greater sense of integrity within during those times when she isn't feeling all that well physically. Bill asked her what she meant by "integrity," and she replied "that I am what I am..." She said that even with her wounds and her weaknesses "there's an essence and a uniqueness and a beauty" about her life that is whole and complete. Integrity. Pure in heart. The peaceable kingdom.
Jesus raises the banner of heaven's royal claims over both Gentile and Jewish territory, and thus is the source of political allegiances that supersede temporal boundaries. This is very good news during Advent, when the nations of the earth conspire against one another and only the Christian church can effect a trans-national celebration of the politics of grace. The peaceable kingdom.
