Pretty soon you don’t enough space for everyone at the table. You don’t have enough chairs. You blinked, and the family got a lot bigger. It began with the two of us. We had three children. Now we have ten grandchildren. We don’t have everyone together very often, but when we do, it’s a houseful. That huge dining room table must have shrunk. There’s always more than one conversation going on at a time, filling the room with voices.
Now the Lord said to Abram, “I will make of you a great nation…and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Genesis 12:2-3).
It’s a powerful promise for a childless couple who have just moved into a new home. But you have to start somewhere, right? Plus, nothing is too hard for the Lord.
A little later, when Abram is wondering how God is going to do this, “[The Lord] brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be” (Genesis 15:5).
Not only would Abram father a son named Isaac, but one of his descendants would be Jesus, who came to save his people from their sins. Jesus would be a blessing to all, for “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved” (Acts 2:21).
More importantly, Jesus is a blessing to me. I am one of those innumerable stars Abram saw in the sky. So are you.
So we hang a tent on the Jesse Tree to remind us of Abram (aka Abraham), to whom God made a wonderful Advent promise.
I’m tempted to believe that the world is much worse than it has ever been. Just look around. War, communities in ruin from hurricanes and tornadoes, pandemics, contaminated food, and sex trafficking. I could list more, but it’s depressing.
If you think it’s bad now, the bible tells us about a much worse time in history. Just a few generations after Adam and Eve were expelled from the garden of Eden, “Every intention of the thoughts of [people’s] heart was only evil continually” (Genesis 6:5). In just a few pages, sin ran amok in God’s “very good” creation.
That reality doesn’t sit well with the Creator, who tells Noah to get to work on an ark because, “I will bring a flood of waters upon the earth to destroy all flesh in which is the breath of life under heaven. Everything that is on the earth shall die” (Genesis 6:17).
Advent is a sobering reminder that when God shows up, he’s not happy. He’s holy. We’re not. This is gonna be ugly.
Unless you’re on the ark.
On the ark, you’re safe from the flood.
On the ark, you float on the water. On the ark, you’ll survive. You’ll be tossed by the waves, heaving over the side of the boat, and have to take care of all those animals, but you’ll survive. You’ll live to tell about it.
Divine judgment is real. “We will all stand before God’s judgment seat” (Romans 14:10). “Each of us will give an account of ourselves to God” (Romans 14:12). And if you’re honest, it’s gonna be ugly.
Unless you’re on the ark.
Unless you find refuge in the arms of the one who comes to rescue you. “Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24,25)
Jesus is your ark, a refuge from the judgment to come. Wrapped in his righteousness, you’re safe from the deluge of wrath. You’ll survive, forgiven and alive. (And he gives you animals to take care of, too!)
There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit.
And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might, the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. (Isaiah 11:1,2)
Where I live in Florida, winter means cooler temperatures, but certainly nothing like the cold I’ve experienced when I lived further north. The temperature might dip below freezing one or two days in January or February. When it does, all the leaves fall off my Hibiscus, Mandeville, and Bougainville plants.
That’s my cue to get to work. I cut everything down to the ground and fill up bags for the trash guys to haul away on Wednesday.
Within a week, though, small green shoots with leaves will begin to grow from the stumps I left behind. As the weather gets warmer those shoots will grow inches overnight until a new vine is reaching towards the sky. I gather the new vines and use some twine to keep them close to the backyard fence.
It’s not a wintry blast of cold air that freezes God’s people in the Old Testament. It’s the loving discipline of the Lord for his people who have forsaken him to worship idols. Foreign nations and kings destroy and disperse God’s people.
When God decided that someone with a heart like his needed to be on the throne of Israel, he chose David, the son of Jesse. Not only would David be king, but his descendants would always be king over God’s people.
But once a pagan ruler exiles the people to a pagan place far away from Jerusalem, there doesn’t seem to be much hope. All that’s left to hold onto is the promise that “a remnant will return (Isaiah 10:21). And “there shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse,” a king descended from David infused with the Spirit of the Lord (Isaiah 11:1,2).
This is a messianic promise. That shoot would not be just any king. “The Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:32,33).
That’s right, it’s not over till it’s over. God has the final word, and his word becomes flesh to rule and reign over his people. From that dead stump of disobedient and unfaithful people would come the one who would save his people from their sin, overcome death, and defeat the adversary, Satan.
When Jesus is born, a fresh green shoot starts to grow from the stump of Jesse, rooted in the promises of God. All that Jesus comes to be and do results in life, growth, and fruit. And guess what? By grace, you’ve been grafted into his family by faith. This isn’t just his story. It’s yours. You are part of God’s family.
In the song “Made for More,” Josh Baldwin sings, “I know who I am ’cause I know who You are.” Did you ever stop to think what a wonderful Christmas gift it is to know who you are? By grace you’ve been adopted into his family by faith.
If you’ve forgotten your identity, don’t just get out your wallet and look at your ID. Remember the shoot that comes forth from the stump of Jesse!
Since it’s December and Advent, I thought it would be fun to write some devotions for the season. Some decorate a Jesse Tree in the month leading up to Christmas, so I thought it would be interesting to write about the symbols that hang from its branches to remind us that Christ’s coming begins a long time before his birth in Bethlehem. In fact, we know that God had that day on his calendar before creation. “[God the Father] chose us in [Jesus Christ] before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 1:4,5).
When I searched online for a list of Jesse Tree symbols, I found many variations. These devotions are based on one list I found from Martin Luther College in New Ulm, Minnesota. You can find more here: mlc-wels.edu/publications/the-jesse-tree.
I really want to up my readership, so please share this post with anyone you think might be (or needs to be) blessed by some Advent devotions!
“Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you!” (Luke 1:28)
Those are the words of the angel Gabriel when he appeared to Mary in Nazareth. Little did she know that she would soon be on the road to Bethlehem. This encounter made me think about some of the interesting people we meet on the road to Bethlehem.
This Advent season has been a busy time in our community and for the church. So many houses are being built, so many have recently moved to our area and I have met so many new people in worship. Add to that those who are on vacation and family who come to visit and I get to meet someone new every time we open our doors as well as each time I take our dog for a longer walk.
I got to meet a lot of my granddaughter’s classmates at a recent birthday party. I met some friends and relatives at a member’s recent funeral. I got to know the workers who were shingling our roof and coating our driveway. A new dentist checked out my teeth and a few random residents said hi at a recent visit to a memory care place. As the month of December propels me towards Christmas, I’ve encountered a lot of people along the way.
Who have you run into? Your short list might include delivery drivers, store workers, baristas, food servers, new neighbors, dog groomers, doctors and nurses, a newborn child, a substitute teacher, a future in-law, or a sheriff’s deputy. I’m always amazed and blessed when I pause to recall all the people I talk to in a day. Some I talk to every day. Some I meet for the first time. I’ve learned to appreciate each encounter.
The people we encounter on the biblical road to Bethlehem are familiar to us. Angels, Mary, Joseph, shepherds, and Jesus meet us along the road each Advent. But we can always learn something new about them and from them. Each encounter is a blessing and a gift from God, whether in the pages of scripture or in daily life.
I hope you’ll take a moment to think about that today. Who did you meet, talk to, hear from, or learn from? Who did you help, teach, or listen to? We’ll be in Bethlehem in just a few days. I’m sure you road will be crowded. Enjoy!
Thank you, Lord, for all the people I meet on the road to Bethlehem. Help me slow down just a little to get to know them, learn from them, and celebrate with them. Amen.
“The Road to Bethlehem” Advent devotion for December 22, 2021. Photo by Thomas Grillmair on Unsplash
Each year I bring several totes full of nativities down from the attic. We display these miniature models of the Christmas story all over our home every December, tiny people on the road to a tiny Bethlehem.
We love our nativities. They come from different cultures, are made from different media and are all uniquely designed. Some are toys for the grandkids to play with and reenact the birth of Jesus. Christmas villages and model railroads are part of the season as well, but it wouldn’t seem like Christmas without a little holy family, shepherds and sheep, angels and wise men on display in our house.
Is this how God sees our world? Lots of tiny people riding on tiny trains and living in tiny homes with tiny pets? Tiny shepherds come to a tiny manger to see a tiny baby who has just been born. Tiny camels and tiny wise men arrive with tiny gifts for the tiny king.
But that tiny baby is God, who is now a part of this tiny world. He’s surrounded by grown ups who tend big sheep and bring big gifts. He’s the little one in a big, big world.
How do you view God? Is he big and powerful, or tiny and helpless? On the one hand, as Solomon said, you can’t built a big enough temple or church to contain him. Yet, he fits inside a mother and a manger. He’s small enough to have over for supper. And he’s big enough be in the highest, lowest and farthest places we could ever go. All that makes God just the right size. Big enough to handle our problems with ease. Small enough for us to eat and drink and receive his gifts of grace. Big enough that we can find refuge in the shadow of his wings. Small enough that we can fit in our hearts.
Very few things are the right size. Too much food at the restaurant. Not enough memory in your phone for all your pictures. Pants too short for a rapidly growing child. Suitcase too big for an overhead bin. One size might fit all, but not your head.
But as Paul reminds us, God’s grace is sufficient, that is, just the right size for us.
Thank Lord, for fitting into my world and for making a place for me in yours. Amen.
“The Road to Bethlehem” Advent devotion for December 21, 2021. Photo by Andy Beales on Unsplash
[The shepherds] went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger. (Luke 2:16)
I find it interesting that the shepherds hurried down the road to Bethlehem to see the newborn Christ child. I wonder what “haste” looked like in first century Israel. A quick walk? A run? I don’t imagine shepherds having any other forms of transportation.
For us, fast is never fast enough. We covet faster internet, faster delivery of purchases, faster acting medications and immediate responses to our texts. We look for the fastest moving check-out line at the grocery store. We check a map app to find the fastest route to our destination. And why is our food taking so long?
One of the hardest things to get used to on mission trips to other countries was the seeming absence of time. I’m used to doing pretty much everything by the clock. From waking up to starting a class to keeping appointment, I’ve got to be on time. In other cultures, though, time just doesn’t matter that much. Your departure time is whenever you happen to leave. Lunch is whenever the food is ready. A meeting begins when everyone has shown up. The clinic closes when the last patient is seen. People are always more important than the clock.
Perhaps “with haste” doesn’t mean a sprint to the manger. Maybe it’s more like, “Let’s go right now.” What are we waiting for? Let’s make this trip a priority. Someone has come that we need to see.
At the very end of the bible, Jesus said, “I am coming soon.” Two thousand years later, we realize his idea of soon isn’t ours. Soon for us means a few minutes, not a few millenia. But he didn’t say, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” We’re still learning what “soon” means in the context of eternity.
When we’re children, it seems to take forever for Christmas to arrive. And the overnight minutes before Christmas morning crawl by. For parents, though, it comes too quickly, and there’s barely enough time to get everything done. After three days visiting my dad in assisted living, he always said, “Do you have to go already?” I felt like I had been there three months.
Never put off the ones you love. Call them or visit them now. You don’t know how much longer they’ll be around. Do it with haste. And then savor every moment as if it were an hour. One day you’ll wish you had more time.
Come soon (with haste), Lord Jesus. But in the meantime, help me savor the wait. Amen.
“The Road to Bethlehem” Advent devotion for December 20, 2021. Photo by Ryk Naves on Unsplash
Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. (Colossians 3:16)
No other holiday or celebration is filled with as much song as the Christmas season. Our catalogue of patriotic songs for Independence Day is a distant second. Nothing else comes close.
Winter concerts, worship services, radio playlists, and background shopping music feature both sacred and secular songs about Christmas. Songs about Jesus, Mary, Joseph, shepherds, angels, wise men, drummers, snowmen, Santa, reindeer, the Grinch, snow, sleigh rides, donkeys and hippos fill our ears. It’s hard not to hum, sing or whistle along with them.
Music is a part of God’s creation. The sound of birds singing accompanies the dawn. Mournful whale song sounds in the depths. Wolves and dogs howl, wind whistles through the trees, sheets of rain beat out a rhythm, crickets chirp, a snake hisses, a hawk shrieks, a brook babbles, and thunder rumbles.
Sometimes it’s a solo. Other times it’s a huge chorus of voices. A quartet gives you four part harmony. A piano, a bass and a drummer are all you need for a trio. It sounds like a million frogs are singing outside my house after a summer shower. Or it’s just my voice in a morning shower.
In scripture, the nations, the trees of the forest, the mountains and the hills, the wilderness and desert, and the mute all sing for joy. They sing when God comes to save, renew, and restore them. They sing because the Lord bring them back to life.
In scripture, the Lord himself sings (Zephaniah 3:17). No wonder his people, created in his image, want to sing. It’s who we are. It’s because of who he is. Most importantly, it’s because of what he’s done. The Redeemed have a song to sing. You and I have a song to sing because our God has come, the Christ is born, and our Savior is alive!
Most people I meet tell me they cannot sing. The cannot sing their way out of a paper bag. They cannot sing to save their lives. They can’t carry a tune in a bucket. Most of the time that’s just not true. You may not have an award winning voice, but you are part of that earthly and heavenly chorus who sings the praises of the Lamb on the throne. He’s worthy of anything and everything you’ve got.
Lately, some of my best moments have been singing with my young grandchildren. Especially the Christmas songs. “Away in a manger,” “Silent night,” “Joy to the World.” Sing it again, Apa. Gladly. I can use all the practice I can get for eternity!
Thank you, Lord, for all those who join me in singing your praises. Amen.
“The Road to Bethlehem” Advent devotion for December 19, 2021. Photo by Thanos Pal on Unsplash
“Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting light.”
The road to Bethlehem is dark, but not just because it was night. The unfaithfulness of the people had brought the shadow of God’s judgment on their lives. The darkness of death pursues those who follow the way of sin. Without Christ, every road, every day, and every life is shrouded in darkness.
The prophet Isaiah tells us about the day when all that will change. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone” (Isaiah 9:2). One day will come when Jesus will say, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).
We work very hard to illuminate our world, especially at Christmas. We light up our trees, our homes, and our churches, holding back the darkness that stalks us each night as the sun slips away. For those of us who celebrate the Savior’s birth, these lights reminds us that “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. Where God is, there will be light!
If a picture you take on your phone seems too dark, you can always adjust the brightness. A couple of finger movements and it’s just like someone turned on the lights. That’s what Jesus comes to do for us. He turns on the lights, just like God did on the first day of creation. Just like he did when he restored sight to a blind man. Just like he did on the mountain of his transfiguration. Just like he does every day when the sun comes up!
Some days just seem gloomy, don’t they? Overcast mornings with rain in the forecast. Those days when we lost someone, even if it happened a long, long time ago. Days when we have to say goodbye to a loved one. That’s when it’s a good idea to pay attention to the prophetic word, which is like “a light shining in a dark place,” reminding us of the light and the life Jesus brings.
Thank you for the light that shines in Bethlehem, in our world and in my heart. Amen.
“The Road to Bethlehem” Advent devotion for December 18, 2021. Photo by Joseph Chan on Unsplash
And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them. (Luke 2:20)
The road to Bethlehem now runs in the other direction. After the shepherds go to see Mary, Joseph and the baby lying in a manger, they retrace their steps back to the fields. Their conversation is now filled with thanks and praise for everything they have just seen. From the angels to the holy family, it has been quite a night.
Every trip to church is followed by a trip back home. After every worship experience we retrace our steps, back into whatever world we just came from. Some travel alone. Some need a van to hold everyone. But we never return empty handed.
With hearts and souls filled with the gifts of God’s grace, we return with stories to tell, a clear conscience, restored hope, and maybe a new challenge to pursue. We’ve shared a space with expectant mothers, fussy babies, praying (and playing) toddlers, talented musicians, and aging saints. We heard a familiar passage, learned something new, jotted down an idea, furrowed our brow, and chuckled to ourselves. We’ve heard beautiful music, seen the colors of the season, embraced a long-time friend, smelled fresh flowers, and tasted that the Lord is good.
Jesus invited some to drop what they were doing and follow him. He then released those followers, telling them to go. As they went they couldn’t help but talk about what they had seen and heard. Just like the shepherds, we come to see and then we go to tell.
I’ll bet the shepherds talked about that night for a long, long time. And I’ll bet some got tired of hearing that story over and over again. But we’re still listening to their story to this very day. We never tire of it. We repeat it, sing about it, and act it out. We join them on the road to Bethlehem, along with so many others, glorifying and praising God for all that they had seen and heard that night.
Thank you, Lord, for the chance to come and see, and then go and tell. I never get tired of the story. Amen.
Waite for it... 