Favor With God

Background Passages: Luke 1:26-38; James 4:6; John 3:16

The young woman bent low in the knees and ducked through the doorway of her father’s home a tall jar of water upon her shoulder. As she turned to place the vessel on the table she stared in fear at the angel standing near the fireplace.

“Greetings, you who are highly favored. The Lord is with you.”

As the jar of water crashed to the floor, Mary back away toward the door in fear and confusion. Quickly, the angel spoke, his voice comforting and concerned, “Do not be afraid. Mary, you have found favor with God.”

As the angel laid out God’s plan for Mary’s life, I cannot fathom the whirlwind of emotions she experienced. Her world turned upside down.

Through God’s great gift of Christmas, the final piece of creation’s puzzle fell in place, planned before time…perfected through the life, death and resurrection to come. Mary heard the words of the angel and struggled to understand the heady revelation that she, an ordinary young woman from an inconsequential village in Galilee, would be the vessel through whom God chose to present himself to the world.

As profound as those words might have been, had I been Mary, I might have wrestled as much with the beginning of the angel’s message…

“You have found favor with God.”

In the world’s language, to show favoritism is to show exceptional kindness to someone, especially in comparison to the treatment of others. Preferential treatment. In the first century, people believed that wealth, health and blessing were signs of God’s favor upon you. That you had done something to earn his favor.

Consider Mary’s life following the angel’s announcement. It hardly speaks to preferential treatment. Her life spun out of control almost immediately.

Joseph had every right to disown her and discredit her publicly. Though he embraced a similar angelic message, others would be less understanding. A few months later, she faced an arduous and uncomfortable journey to Bethlehem in her last trimester. Upon their arrival, the only place available to them was an unholy stable among the animals. She gave birth far from family and friends who might celebrate with her.

A short time later, she fled to a foreign land ahead of a king’s murderous soldiers who were intent upon killing her son. She later watched in dread as her son’s message of God’s forgiveness was met with scorn and hatred by the religious leaders of the day. She heard a bloodthirsty crowd call for his crucifixion. She watched from a distance and felt the echo of each hammer driving nails through the hands and feet of her beloved son. She wept at his feet as blood and life drained from his body.

If she thought at all of the angel’s announcement as she stood near the cross, I doubt she felt favored. This was hardly a life of preferential treatment. What, then, did it mean for Mary to find favor with God?

Nothing in scripture indicates that God’s favor falls upon people simply for their own enjoyment. We find those on whom God’s favor rests given great responsibility so the lives of others may be changed. So God might be glorified. Moses. Abraham. Job. These were men who found God’s favor. Nothing about their lives was easy. All carried the burden of life heavily on their shoulders.

You see, I often thought God chose Mary because of something uniquely righteous within her. That her faith was deeper and her life purer than any other…by extension, deeper and purer than my own life. Seeing Mary in those terms diminishes God’s work of grace. In many ways it cheapens the miracle of Christmas.

Bible scholars tell us that the word in Luke 1:30 which most Bible’s translate as “favor” is the same Greek word from which we get our word for “grace.”

“Mary, you have found God’s grace.”

Mary wasn’t chosen to be the mother of Jesus because her goodness outshone any other. Rather, God extended an offer of grace to Mary to be used by God for something which carried enormous responsibility. The angel’s declaration came, not because she deserved it. It came as a gift. Undeserved. Unmerited.

Mary could have rejected God’s offer. She could have said, “Not me. Find someone else.” Yet, she considered all the angel said and declared, “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.”

With those words, Mary, as a young teenage girl, accepted God’s grace gift and all that it would entail without fully understanding the implications for her own life.

James 4:6 proclaims that “God opposes the proud, but shows favor (grace) to the humble.” It is this thought I had not considered in the Christmas story. That Mary found favor with God had little to do with her goodness and everything to do with her humble spirit. Her desire to be open to the possibilities God presented to her. That idea has implications for my life I had not considered.

I stand today a recipient of God’s favor, his unmerited grace. The offer to accept Jesus Christ as savior came through the conviction of the Holy Spirit, not because I deserved it, but as a gift undeserved. It came as an offer I could have refused. Yet, I considered all the spirit said to me and said in essence, “I am your servant.” With those words, as a nine-year-old boy, I accepted God’s grace gift and all it would entail without fully understanding the implications for my own life.

For any of us to embrace God’s gift of his son, there comes a point when we must humble ourselves before him, recognizing that it is not our goodness that merits his favor. It is through his unfailing love for us that his grace flows.

For those of us who have placed our faith and trust in Jesus, Christmas is a joyous reminder that God so loved the world that he sent his only son to be to be his grace gift to the world.

Mary humbly embraced the role God asked her to play and bore the burden of responsibility it carried with it. Like Mary, in response to God’s grace, may we, in all humility, be open to the possibilities God presents to us.

 

Don’t Say ‘Merry Christmas’

We sat on the floor in the middle of my son’s living room on Christmas morning, amid open boxes and scraps of torn wrapping paper. My grandsons, Eli and Josiah, laughed and played with new toys that had quickly become their favorites. Snatching Josiah into her lap as he danced across the floor in delight, my wife, Robin, hugged our youngest grandson and wished him, “Merry Christmas.”

Continue reading “Don’t Say ‘Merry Christmas’”

The Star

Background Passages: Genesis 1:14-20, Matthew 2:1-2, and 2 Timothy 1:8-10
An  Angel.
Sat beside the Creator.
Stardust smeared across its cheek
after a long day of placing planets and suns in place
under the watchful eye of God Almighty.
It surveyed the heavens.
Smile brightening.
Glancing at the Creator with a twinkle in its eyes,
“It’s good.”

 

The Creator.
Placed a hand on the Angel’s knee.
Shook His head.
Grinned.
“Not quite yet.”
One more thing to do.
One last heavenly body among
countless points of light.

A quiet word.
Wisps of ice and rock appear
in front of His face.
Spinning slowly.
Suspended
on the backdrop of
space.

The  Creator.
Gathered the formless mass into His hands.
Rolled the aggregate in His palms into a tight ball.
In deep concentration,
He looks into the universe
He just formed on this fourth day of conception.
Triangulating a position in a distant, inconspicuous galaxy
with the third planet from a remote sun
and a precise moment in time yet to come.

He nodded to His Angel.
Pointed into the depths of the cosmos.
“Take it…
there.”

In a flash the Angel carried it across universe and time.

“A little left,”
the Creator instructed.
The Angel shifted its position ever so slightly.
“Perfect,” said God.
“Now…
give it a push.”

The small rock hurtled through space
beginning its protracted,
but crucial journey.
God leaned back.
The Angel suddenly by his side again.
The Creator lifted his chin.
Stretched out his arms
to encompass all He designed that day.
Turned to his Angel.
“Now,”
He said with a smile,
“It’s good.”

*

Eons.
The Angel studied the rock on its course.
Baffled.
Bewildered.
Bemused.
Pondering the point of its
placement at that
precise spot
in the universe.

Such a small object
tumbling through space.
Mundane by any standard.
Especially when compared to the splendor of the
star clusters,
supernovae and
galaxies.

It left him…
wondering.

For time upon time,
the angel would check its progress.
Nothing spectacular.
Nothing of note.
Nothing to indicate its purpose.

It always left him…
Wondering.

One day as the Angel
watched and waited…
The ball of ice and rock,
pulled by the intense gravity of that
distant, yellow star,
reacted to its heat.
Ice cracked.
Broke off from the surface.

As it gained speed it left a
thin trail of frozen particles in its wake.
The residue grew brighter each passing day,
reflecting light from the star.
The tiny ball of ice and rock blossomed into its
God-planned existence as a large comet.
Its entire existence conceived for
this purpose and
this purpose only.

The Comet.
Caught in a death spiral by the gravity of the sun.
Glowed brightly.
Visible day and night.
Its light seemed to stand still
amid the incomparable beauty of a
God-created universe.

Locked for this time…
Inside an
undistinguished galaxy.
In an
isolated solar system.
Near an
indistinct planet.
Over an
insignificant country.
Above an
inconsequential village.

This “star,” to those who observed it more than 2,000 years ago,
pointed to
an inhospitable stable
in which lay an
indescribable child.
God’s only Son.

The Angel.
Watched events unfold.
No longer wondering.
Rather in awestruck wonder
of God’s revealed plan.
It looked in reverence at the Creator
as He looked in Love at the Creation.

The Angel whispered…
“It’s very good.”

*

Think about it.

The Star…
The stable
in Bethlehem.

The Star…
The shepherds
in the fields.

The Star…
The sages
from the East.

The Star…
The Savior
in the manger.

What perfect timing!
What intricate and eternal planning!

With the gentle push of an Angel
eons past,
God planned for the Star to reach that
specific spot in space
at that
special moment in time.
Pointing to the most beautiful
Creation in the entire expanse of
His immeasurable universe.

God sent His Son…
immaculately conceived and
human born…
not as an afterthought to a world that
unexpectedly broke away from Him.
Not as an attempt to correct His
botched effort at a perfect humanity.

No.
The birth of His Son.
Written on God’s heart
as a planned intervention.
Considered
before time existed.
Contemplated
before human creation.
Conceived
before we knew our need for Him.

His Son…
sent to redeem a world He knew from
inception would selfishly refuse the relationship
the Creator most desired with
His most beloved Creation.
You.
Me.

When I look, really look, at
God’s creation…
His majesty evident
in all I see.
His mystery evolving
in so much I don’t fully understand.
It leaves me…
wondering.

When I surrender, really surrender, to
Salvation’s Child…
His mercy evident
in His sacrifice.
Its miracle evolving
in so much I don’t fully understand.
I watch my life unfold…
no longer wondering.
Rather in in awestruck wonder
of God’s grace so freely offered through a Child
whose destiny lay on a cross.
My reconciliation.
My redemption.

Before the world was made.
The Creator put everything in motion.
Designed to come together at a
perfect place and point
in time.

For no other reason but to…
Give me a choice.
Give you a choice.

We can follow our own path or we can…
Follow the Light of the Star.
Find a Savior.

For no other reason…
that makes this a
Merry Christmas.

We look in reverence at the Creator
as He looks in Love at His Creation.
As believers in what He has done,
we whisper as did the Angel…

“It’s very good.”

Continue reading “The Star”

The Stable Boy

Background Passage: Luke 2:1-20
People flooded Bethlehem
in answer to the governor’s decree.
Returning to their home town to be taxed.
Travel made them…
irritable.
Taxation made them…
irate.Boisterous.
Belligerent.
Bellicose. Families poured into the
 City of David from all directions of the wind.
Swelling the population of the sleepy village,
well beyond its capacity.

 

Hospitality ruled.
Family and stranger
open home and business to the weary travelers.
Considerate.
Courteous.
Custom.

 A stable boy.
Ten-years old.
All too skinny.
Almost skeletal.
A brush with a Roman chariot as a young boy
left him with a shattered leg that never healed properly.
Twisted at an awkward angle.
Weak and wobbly,
each step aided by a walking stick.

The stable boy
dodged through familiar streets.
Picked his way back and forth
from the town’s only inn
to the stable inside the rocky cave,
behind the mud-bricked building.

He spent his day…
Lugging belongings
to the rooms inside.
Leading beasts of burden
to the stalls out back.
Lifting water jars
to fill the troughs.
Laying fresh hay in the mangers
To feed the livestock.

Seen, but unseen.
Speaking, but never heard.

Long after the sun set,
The stable boy blew out a slow breath.
A sigh heavy with fatigue.
He leaned down.
Picked up a wooden bucket,
Turned it over.
Sat wearily upon it.
Pulled his knees to his chest.
Laid his head on his arms
Fell instantly asleep.

His mind registered the sound
long before his eyes blinked open.
The echoing clip clop of a donkey’s hooves
trudging through the rocky street.

A young man walked out of the shadows.
Broad-shouldered.
Brawny.
The flow of his robe could not conceal that he was
powerfully built by years of hard work.
Physical vitality betrayed only by the
exhaustion in his eyes.

The man led his donkey by a loose halter.
Upon the donkey a young woman.
Pregnant.
Pained.
Spent.
Jostling back and forth with each
labored step of her animal.

The couple stopped at the door to the inn.
The man gently braced the woman
as she slid from the donkey’s back.
A kind smile and a quiet word
let her know they reached their destination.
She leaned against the donkey as
he stepped toward the front door.
With a crooked grin,
he placed a heavy hand on the
stable boy’s shoulder as he passed.
Squeezed it in a way that said,
“We made it,”
Walked inside without another word.

The stable boy stared at the woman.
He could not help himself.
Saw how young she was.
Could not imagine the difficulty of her journey.
Knew enough of the world to know…
she was ready to deliver her child.

She greeted the boy with a wave.
“Good evening.”
After the chaos of his day,
her words sounded like the melody of a meadowlark.
Wistful.
Welcoming.
Warm.

Before he could answer,
Her husband came out of the building
followed on his heels by the apologetic innkeeper
They spoke in whispered and urgent tones.
The stable boy listened to the muted conversation,
deliberately kept quiet and low to
avoid alarming the woman.

“Look at her,”
the man pleaded.
“She is due any day. I must find her a place to stay.
We’ve been everywhere else.
I can find no bed for her rest.”

“We have no room,”
said the man in sympathy,
all too aware of his unfulfilled responsibility as host.
 
The young man looked again at his wife.
Nodded his acceptance of a bad situation.
Shook the innkeeper’s hand.
Stepped toward his wife,
fatigue etched in his face and
his fallen shoulders
All too aware of his unfulfilled responsibility as husband.

“Wait,”
said the innkeeper.
The young man turned back,
a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Continue reading “The Stable Boy”