Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

“Now display thy saving Pow’r,
Ruin’d Nature now restore,
Now in Mystic Union join
Thine to Ours, and Ours to Thine.”

You wouldn’t recognize these words (not many people would) but they are part of a verse from the original version of Hark! The Herald Angels Sing which was written by Charles Wesley, and later contributed to by George Whitefield.

Although this verse is not included in the popular hymn we sing today, it beautifully encapsulates a concept that is not only at the heart of this song, but one that runs deep in the veins of the Christian faith. We may have heard and sung this song a thousand times, but before we hurry off to sing it for the next thousand, humor me for a moment, and let’s take a deeper look.

First of all, what’s a “hark”? Who is Harold the angel? And am I the only one that has had these types of lofty questions whilst slipping further and further into the vortex of the shopping mall on Christmas Eve?

Well, “hark” is a middle English word that essentially means: listen. And “herald” is a messenger that is sent to bring news – typically that of something that is about to happen.

So, the title alone of this song basically means: “Listen to these angels who have been sent to tell us (or rather, sing) what is about to happen.”

Now that we’ve got that cleared up, what is this song about? What news are the angels bringing? Yes, that of baby Jesus’ birth. But perhaps there is a little more than meets the eye here.

The angels are announcing a miracle that is about to take place for which all of creation has been holding its breath – a miracle that took mankind by surprise.

Are you ready?

Here it is:

Heaven is coming to earth.

It might sound simple, but this truth is actually wonderfully miraculous. And while we may have missed it before, this concept is bursting at the seams of this song.

Look at this line in verse one: “Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled.”

Or how about this line in verse two: “Pleased as man with men to dwell, Jesus, our Emmanuel.”

In his incredible mercy, God sent Jesus, from a throne of limitless glory, to a little family in a little town on a little planet on an unexpected night. And in that moment, the richest treasure of heaven was given to the most undeserving sinners. Heaven was gifted to earth.

Since the fall in the garden of Eden, heaven and earth have been divided, in desperate need of redemption and restoration. Humanity needed to be united again to God.

Little glimpses had happened throughout the narrative of Scripture, like Abraham and Issac‘s divine intervention, Jacob’s wrestling match with the angel of the Lord, or Moses on the mountain speaking with Yahweh himself. But a moment like this – the God of all creation, to unite us back to himself, entering into his creation, and subjecting himself to the brokenness and frailty of our little world – is of infinitely miraculous grandeur.

Even the name, “Jesus,” represents this glorious truth. We never called God by that name before. It is a name given to a heavenly savior in a human body, and it is a name we will praise forever. Jesus himself is heaven and earth united — fully God and fully man — united in one person.

Remember that part from the original version of this song?

“Now display thy saving Pow’r,
Ruin’d Nature now restore,
Now in Mystic Union join
Thine to Ours, and Ours to Thine.”

This is the miracle. God’s saving power was displayed on Christmas day at the birth of Jesus, it will be displayed when he returns and restores what has been broken by the fall, and it will be displayed for all eternity as we, the church, live in perfect union with him in his Kingdom.

However, it’s not just something that happened two thousand years ago, and it’s not just something that will happen one day in the future. Jesus is committed to bringing heaven to earth every day in the life of the believer.

That is the beauty of a relationship with Christ. Heaven comes to earth through a quiet morning prayer as God gently reminds you that he is with you, a conversation with a close friend as the Holy Spirit moves and speaks through you, the saving work of the Spirit as a person places their faith in Christ for salvation, or even the almost tangible presence of God while every voice is singing a simple song at a church service. These are miraculous moments of heaven meeting earth – restoration and renewal. These are mere glimpses of that great uniting that will take place when God brings heaven down and dwells with us forever.

“Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” is a celebration of a moment, but it is also an invitation into many more. An invitation to listen to, and be reminded of, the greatest news – that Jesus has done the impossible and keeps doing it every day.

Our God is here.

Forever we will glorify that name given to a king on Christmas – the name of Jesus.

Look for the miraculous in the mundane today, and see heaven all around you. In doing so, may we bring glory to the newborn King.


 

Joy to the World

My favorite Christmas carol is “Joy to the World.” It is an exhilarating hymn and one that, right from the start, unabashedly celebrates the coming of Jesus and calls followers of Jesus to active worship. And while I appreciate and enjoy the contemplative nature of many Christmas hymns that are slower in nature, “Joy to the World” is a fast song!

If Christmas carols were rides at an amusement park, “Joy to the World” would be a thrill ride.

“Joy to the World” was written by Isaac Watts (1674-1748), who is recognized as the “father of English hymnody” and was published in 1719. And while “Joy to the World” has been sung during the Advent season by believers for over 300 years, it may come as a surprise to know that “Joy to the World” wasn’t intended to be about Christmas or the incarnation of Jesus. Instead, it was written about the return of Christ – his second coming. It was originally meant to be sung year-round to remind and encourage believers about the future coming of our King.

Now, you might think, So, why on earth do we still sing “Joy to the World” during Advent?

The truth is this, the second coming of Christ would not be possible without the first coming of Christ. And while the future coming is sure to look different than the first (see Revelation 19:11), these acts are tied together in the same beautiful arc of redemption set in place by our Creator at the beginning of time. The grace that was demonstrated for us in the first coming of Christ makes possible the day when our King will appear in all his glory to complete the work given to him in restoring all creation back to God.

This is why we should sing “Joy to the World” during Advent.

My favorite lyric from this hymn comes in the second verse when we are called to “repeat the sounding joy.” It’s a wonderful reminder that, despite the circumstances of our current reality and despite the many ways our culture may cause us to forget or lose hope in this life, when we “repeat the sounding joy” we are proclaiming that our King is sovereign over all, now and for all eternity. And just as our faithful brothers and sisters in Christ sang this line hundreds of years ago, here we are in 2020 repeating that same joy.

As we journey into this Advent season together, may we be a people whose hearts are filled with joy as we consider the grace we’ve received at the incarnation of Jesus. And as we look back, may it encourage us as we look forward to the grace that is promised to us when Christ returns.


Our Arts Team just released a new recording of Joy to the World!

Listen to it wherever you listen to music!


 

The Immanence and Transcendence of God

Christmas brings with it a “comfortable” view of Jesus. Like Ricky Bobby in the movie Talladega Nights, we love the image of “Dear tiny Jesus, in your golden-fleece diapers, with your tiny, little, fat, balled-up fists pawing at the air.” There’s a tender vulnerability in a baby that allows us to approach him without the fear usually inspired by the presence of God himself. This is the beauty of the incarnation – a God who has lowered himself to take on human frailty and dwell in our midst.

Unfortunately, there can be a danger in our Ricky Bobby thinking, picking and choosing the version of Jesus who most appeals to us while ignoring the aspects of his character that are more complicated or difficult. Despite the comfortable feelings that this minimization can bring, our concept of God can begin to feel inadequate to the difficulties we face. We need a God of power and might, one whose purpose is more significant than soothing us with warm, fuzzy feelings.

There is an increasing longing within our culture for something beyond ourselves – a spiritual desire for a greatness beyond our own achievements and effort and a power that can transform our lives. The human heart yearns for something more: more glorious, more grand, more worthy.

Only in Scripture can we find a picture of God who is both perfectly transcendent and truly immanent — infinitely beyond us and yet personally with us.

Transcendence is that aspect of God’s character that recognizes his position above and beyond all that he created. He is great, impenetrable, and matchless. His immanence recognizes that he graciously enters into his creation, working and acting within the world that he has made. The gospel message is most effective when we hold both attributes of God in balance, neither minimizing his transcendence to increase our comfort nor minimizing his personal nature to satisfy our reason. When we present both aspects of God’s character equally, his goodness is magnified.

The Lord is high above all nations,

and his glory above the heavens!

Who is like the Lord our God,

who is seated on high,

who looks far down

on the heavens and the earth?

– Psalm 113:4-6

Here the psalmist praises God for his transcendence — placing God in his rightful place “above all nations,” filled with authority, and independent from his creation. Unbound by space or time, he is infinite, omnipresent, and sovereign over all. Our God is above even the heavens themselves, beyond any need that we could fulfill, and past the limits of our finite understanding. This is no small God, able to be pacified or distracted. Our only right response is a posture of reverence, awe, and humility.

But the truth of God’s transcendence does not contradict his personal interactions with us. Rather, it increases the value of that relationship. The next verses in the same psalm paint a picture of an immanent God of love:

He raises the poor from the dust

and lifts the needy from the ash heap,

to make them sit with princes,

with the princes of his people.

He gives the barren woman a home,

making her the joyous mother of children.

Praise the Lord!

– Psalm 113:7-9

The mercy of God overflows from this passage. His consideration for the needy, his reversal of their suffering, his care for the childless all indicate that there is no suffering he cannot see. Even the most invisible and devalued in our society are treasured and sustained by the God who is present with us; the God revealed in the gospel of Matthew as Immanuel (1:23). Jesus displayed this same compassion in his earthly ministry as he healed the sick, touched the leper, and wiped the tears from women’s eyes.

But the mercy of God doesn’t negate his infinite nature, for only his complete freedom allows him to right these wrongs. God’s immanence gives him awareness of and compassion for our suffering and sin. God’s transcendence gives him the power to heal, rescue, and redeem. Because he is beyond the limits of all we understand, he can reverse the fortunes of those who seem inevitably downtrodden. And nowhere is this seen more clearly than in the incarnation and atoning work of Christ.

Though the Son of God was completely, utterly divine, he stepped down to earth and entered the womb of a woman. He took on a human nature in order to live among us. And in his death, he paid for our sins against an infinitely holy God as no mere human could have done, for his transcendent nature bore an infinite cost.

Our God is beautifully personal, and we should rejoice in his invitation to intimacy with him.

As we anticipate and celebrate Christmas this season, may we be reminded that the little babe in the manger was also our infinitely transcendent King lifted on high, who in humility descended to dwell with us.

God is both further from us, and nearer to us, than any other being.

– C.S. Lewis


 

Out of the Silence

Let me admit this up front: I am that person that annoys you about Christmas.

My tree has already been up for weeks, our lights are on outside, and I’ve been listening to Christmas songs since the day after Halloween.

I love the Christmas season because it’s a time of celebration and beauty, generosity and joy, family and friends, crackling fires and twinkle lights. But this year feels different for us all. Advent, the traditional season of anticipation, has a new and deeper meaning as we long for better days.

For many people I love, this year has been the worst.

Many have lost their health, their homes, their normal lives, their retirement, and much more. We are all in need of a change. We are all longing for a better future.

In the struggles of 2020, I am reminded that as much as I love the fun that Christmastime brings, Advent is really a time of hope. It’s a time of waiting, of trusting, of yearning for our Messiah. It is a time to remember that God steps into the midst of a broken world to be with us – to rescue us at just the right moment.

The time period between Malachi, the last book in the Old Testament, and the birth of Christ is known as intertestamental silence. The Old Testament ends with the promise of a Messiah and covenants to fulfill, and the people of God are left in anticipation. But for more than 400 years, there were no prophets; God was not speaking to his people. It would have been easy for God’s people to believe that his plan had stalled, that perhaps his purposes and promises had been thwarted.

But a closer look at this time reveals just how much God was doing to prepare the world for Jesus and the spread of his good news. 

The unfaithfulness of God’s people led to their exile. Although the temple was modestly rebuilt and their return was permitted, not everyone returned to Jerusalem. While this season brought great suffering for the Jewish people, it also resulted in circumstances that were vital to the coming gospel explosion.

During the intertestamental period, the Romans came to power. With their rise came roads, government, and a universal culture, connecting the empire together.  There was a common language throughout all of the empire (Greek) so that the scattered people could all communicate. And synagogues were built all over Asia Minor so that the dispersed Jews could worship in their own distant communities.

Although the people of the day couldn’t see it, God was not idle. He was at work and used the pain and disappointment of exile and oppression to prepare the world for the Gospel. The Roman government’s execution method would bring about the promised sacrifice of the Son. Roman roads straddled the empire, creating safe paths for Paul to travel on his missionary journeys. The New Testament scriptures would be written in the common tongue of the known world. The scattered synagogues would form the basis for a network of churches, where Paul would preach the gospel of a messiah to those who were familiar with the Jewish customs and beliefs.

For many of us, God feels distant in this moment. We struggle to understand what God is doing and find it difficult to trust in his plan and providence.

But just as before, God is at work right now in the seeming silence. He is at work while we wait, while we suffer, and while we are confused. Though we may not hear him or see him – though he may seem far away – we can trust that he is present and active.

For hundreds of years, not just months, God’s people wondered where he was. While we look forward to the return of Jesus, or even just to better days, let us rest in this time of Advent, commemorating the moment when God entered our world in the most profound, tangible, and transformative way: sending his only Son, God himself, to enter into this broken world and save us.

God is moving in our lives, his promises are true, and he is faithful. He is at work in us through his Spirit, transforming us and speaking to us, in the midst of whatever pain we experience. He is at work in the world as the Gospel still spreads to the ends of the earth.

Advent is a time of celebration, but it is also a time to reflect on our need to trust in God – to believe that his promises are true and his love is enduring.

As we anticipate celebrating the birth of Christ and hope for better things to come, let’s take this time to remember God’s faithfulness. May we embrace the waiting, trusting that God is working all things for our good and his glory.

 

“The thrill of hope, a weary world rejoices.”


I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

There is a deep nostalgia I have wrapped in Christmas songs. I remember the huge stack of Christmas vinyl records that we would put on our family record player, letting them roll while the fire crackled in the fireplace. We’d listen to the classic carols and then also some really goofy songs that always made us laugh like, I Want A Hippopotamus for Christmas.

I love when songs have a story that roots their meaning in more than just a rhyme and the Christmas season is full of them even amidst songs about Santa and hippos.

There is one song in particular that I rarely listen through without being moved. The turn of the lyrics is so strong and purposeful. It doesn’t tell the original story of Christmas, but is more about what the birth of Jesus meant and continues to mean.

“I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” was a song written from a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow back in 1863. No doubt, you ran across Longfellow’s works such as “Paul Revere’s Ride” back in high school or college in an English class, but the poem entitled “Christmas Bells” was written from a moment of epiphany in his own life on Christmas Day in 1863.

The United States was squarely in the middle of the terror of the Civil War. There was a lack of unity across the whole country. Loss, pain, and frustration were everywhere. Longfellow himself had lost his wife in a fire two years earlier, and he had just received word that his son had been badly wounded in battle. He was struggling with severe depression over these losses. But then on Christmas morning, ringing through the cold air, he heard the church bells playing, inspiring him to pen these words:

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.”

I love how he spends most of the piece outlining the utter atrocities of the world around him. He paints a picture of how the world felt: bleak and hopeless. But that depth makes the turn of the final refrain all the more beautiful because we know that the truth of the line “God is not dead, nor doth He sleep” destroys any depth of pain. The God of Heaven sits enthroned above any act here on earth.

Hope is what Christmas is all about. Hope that was born to a virgin. Hope that took on flesh.

It might feel like this poem/song seems to be reading the headlines of 2020.

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!”

 

But, if we can be reminded of anything this Christmas, it’s that the true hope we find in the advent of Jesus was not only greater than the darkness that Longfellow faced when he wrote those lines, but that it still shines the light of hope into our world and hearts today.


 

Grit, Grime, and Gratitude

We have a rug next to the tub in our bathroom that is fluffy and white. Very fluffy and very white. I dropped something on it the other day and it just disappeared into the fluff. I searched and searched. I raked the rug with my fingers but all I could find was white rug. I was starting to get frustrated but then I got a brilliant idea. At least, it seemed like a brilliant idea.

I picked the fluffy white rug up and shook it out over the tub.

It was startling.

This fluffy white, clean looking rug was filled with grit and grime and all kinds of… stuff. You couldn’t see it at first – I didn’t feel it when I searched through the rug with my fingers. But, when I turned the rug over and shook it out it looked like someone threw a shovel full of Galveston beach in the tub. I still didn’t find what I was looking for, but I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to hurry and clean it up before my wife, Kay, came along and asked why I had turned her bathtub into a hazardous waste site.

I was busily wiping up the grit out of the tub when it struck me: this rug is very much like my life. It looks so fluffy and clean. From the outside it looks completely unsoiled. You can even spend some time with me up close and you might not notice any grit or grime. But, way down deep, trapped in the woven fibers of thoughts, attitudes and desires that makeup who I am, there is grit and grime and all kinds of… stuff.

You might think such a stark picture of how much grit and grime remain inside my heart and mind would be depressing, and maybe it should be.

But, it isn’t.

First of all, I know that stuff is in there. Sometimes when there’s a big enough problem, or if I get my feelings hurt by someone, I get shaken enough for some of that grit and grime to come out of my mouth. So not only do I see it, but so do the people who live closest to me.

Still, instead of being depressed it actually makes me thankful.

As I stared at the grit in the tub, and thought about grit that still resides in me, I felt a rush of gratitude because I believe deeply that God has judged me and declared me “not guilty.” God has declared by his will and his power that in Christ I am righteous and even holy unto him. I’m not indifferent to my need to be more like Jesus tomorrow than I am today, but I am overwhelmed by the wonder of knowing that I share anything with in common with him at all! And I am grateful because I know whatever traits I share with Jesus have been given to me.

Listen to how the apostle Paul says, “thank you.”

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him 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, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight…

– Ephesians 1:3-8

God chose us. God adopted us. God blessed us in Jesus. God redeemed us. God forgave us. God lavishes grace on us.

I didn’t do any of that.

I just receive it as God lavishly ladles grace over my grit.

How can I not be thankful?

For a long time, I have thought that the real appreciation for Thanksgiving starts when we see what falls in the tub when we shake out our rug. The roots of genuine gratitude for turkey and family and jobs and pumpkin pie sink deep into the soil of Ephesians 1. Gratitude thrives in us when we see our personal, sinful grit and grime and wonder where we would be without the cross of Jesus. Gratitude transforms us when we look at our grime and reflect on why we need to be adopted in the first place and why we need to be forgiven and redeemed.

It seems to me that so many things the Scripture commands we do – forgive, bear with one another, be generous with other people, etc. – are things that blossom out of a heart overflowing with gratitude. One who knows they have been forgiven for much can forgive. One who knows they have been given riches is free to share.

I always look forward to Thanksgiving. It’s great to be thankful at Thanksgiving. But this year, before I start eating, I might go shake that rug into the tub again, and read Ephesians 1 again, just to make sure I remember why I am most grateful. If I start there, I won’t forget that the myriad of other physical and relational blessings I enjoy are really just the gravy on top of the peace with God that Jesus bought for me.

I invite you to join me this year taking some time to think about being thankful (before you eat yourself into the annual pumpkin pie coma).


 

5 Tips for Keeping the Peace Through the Holidays

Tis’ the season for celebrating our blessings, eating way too much food, and spending time with family. But, even more than the long to-do list, the financial strain, or the crowds and traffic, the most stressful part of the holiday season for some people is spending time with their family.

It’s a blessing to celebrate together when we enjoy the company of our family. But many times, grudges, estranged relationships, or policy and personality differences can make family gatherings a minefield for potential conflict.

So, what can we do to navigate this high-tension season in a God-honoring way?

 

Pray Continuously

Many times, we can have huge blind spots when it comes to familial interactions. We fall into conflict unsure of why we got there or how to get out. But God has a perfect perspective of our family gatherings. He understands what we are going through, what the person that we’re interacting with is going through, and what it will take to foster peace between us. Prayer orients our heart to the gospel and aligns us with the Spirit.

Know Yourself

Our response to challenging situations is often to get defensive, make excuses, or pass blame because we don’t want to see our own part in the conflict. Honest self-reflection can be difficult because most of us have our brains on autopilot, hardly being aware of the “why” behind our thoughts and actions. Being aware of our own thoughts, feelings, and emotions at any given time is vital for navigating high-stress situations and conflict.

Pick Your Battles

Proverbs 19:11 says “Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense.” One tool available to us to self-reflect and discern whether our emotions are enticing us to overreact is business writer, Suzy Welch’s 10-10-10 Rule. To use 10-10-10, we think about our situation on three different time frames:

  • How will we feel about it 10 minutes from now?
  • How about in 10 months?
  • How about in 10 years?

Thinking in this way can help us count the cost of conflict and discern whether or not we should overlook the offense.

Focus On People, Not Positions

Our families can have some widely varying perspectives and make some outrageous statements. But, instead of spending our efforts on debunking their belief or trying to convince them of our own viewpoint, we should attempt to understand the person behind the position. Ask clarifying or open-ended questions and listen without judgement or interruption. Saying, “this sounds like it’s important to you,” or “tell me more about that,” can go a long way towards helping us understand the motives, fears, and desires that are beneath the surface of a statement. The main objective in our family interactions shouldn’t be to win arguments, but to love others as Christ has loved us.

Apologize First

Sometimes, conflict can’t be avoided. Though unpleasant as it is, conflict has the potential to help us grow and mature. Matthew 7:5 admonishes, “first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.” Many times in conflict, the hurt we experience can blind us to our culpability. The fact is, it takes two people to cause conflict, and you only have control over one of those people. Prayerfully seek God’s perspective about your role in the conflict and why you feel as you do about the situation and then take the first step towards reconciliation by apologizing first. Taking responsibility for our own sins and seeking forgiveness from others can dissolve huge stumbling blocks in the relationship and draw us closer to reconciliation not only to each other, but also to Christ.

 

As you navigate this holiday season, remember that nothing tries us quite like relationships do. Managing conflict and then committing to reconciliation when conflict arises is a constant struggle.

But the grace that the gospel extends to us isn’t limited to the forgiveness of sins, but includes the promise that God would transform us into a new person with a new nature. Through our struggles, we can become more like Christ.

So, step into those difficult family gatherings with the hope and confidence that as you strive to love people well and keep the peace, you are being transformed into the image of Christ and reflecting his gospel and grace to those around you.


 

5 Reflections on Life After an Election

As a country, we are coming off a presidential election that has consumed much of our attention for a long time. A very. Long. Time.

It’s been so long that many of us may have forgotten what it’s like to live without the constant feed of political drama. Like our favorite Netflix binge, we can’t help but watch one more episode.

But at some point, the conclusion had to come. The election day arrived, votes were counted, and even that unfolded in a dramatic style befitting 2020.

So now, roughly half of American voters are happy, and half are disappointed. But such was the inevitable result regardless of who walked away with the most electoral votes.

Here are five reflections that might help us to live life after the election no matter how we voted.

1. There is life outside of politics.

In a world where even minor, apolitical issues inexplicably turn bitter and partisan, we should be reminded that seeing everything divided along party lines is not only unhelpful, but often not even true.

In the last 12 months, whether or not you wear a mask, support racial equality, appreciate law enforcement, or even where you eat your chicken sandwich aligns you with a political ideology. But not everything is a partisan issue.

Now that the election is over, take some time to enjoy the apolitical parts of life by keeping them apolitical. You might consider limiting or even completely cutting out any political news for the remainder of the year. I promise it’ll still be there for you when you return.

2. Elections are not a zero-sum game for citizens.

It’s true that in an election, one person wins and another loses. However, once an election is over, the newly elected officials are supposed to serve their entire constituency.

In a democracy, there shouldn’t be winners and losers among the citizenry. If the candidate you voted for won, you don’t get extra privileges for their term. If the candidate you voted for didn’t win, you don’t need to stew over it until the next election. You can still live, work, serve your community, and pray for those in office no matter if you voted for them or not (1 Timothy 2:1-2).

3. Loving your neighbor is better than being right.

Jesus said the two greatest commandments are to love God and love your neighbor (Mark 12:30-31). Unfortunately, the commandment to prove your neighbor wrong didn’t make the list.

You might have a friend, coworker, or neighbor with whom you have significant political disagreements. It might be hard to move on from things you’ve seen them post on social media. Frankly, they might say the same thing about your posts. But the gospel compels us to lay aside those differences, be reconciled, and find ways to serve others. Instead of getting into a debate or distancing yourself from them, seek opportunities to love them.

If you’ve filled your social media timeline will political posts in the last six months, go reread some of them. Do your posts show a heart of love for your neighbor or a desire to be right? Ask yourself if God might be calling you to humbly and possibly publicly repent.

4. We have more in common than we think.

The media portrays the political divide as a bitter battle between values diametrically opposed to one another. We tend to buy into that narrative because extremes are easier and more convenient than nuance. Nuance requires actually talking to someone and having a genuine conversation.

The truth is, your neighbor with a differing political ideology likely holds dear most of same things that you do. Finding common ground, shared values and beliefs, and mutual interests is far easier than you might think, especially if you don’t make everything political.

So, make friends with people different from you. Invite someone over for a socially distanced dinner. Reject the cynicism of the age and seek to rebuild your trust in humanity.

5. The gospel does what no government or elected official can do.

It’s easy to fall victim to the lie that life and death hang in the balance in an election. If your hope and your identity is wrapped up in a candidate or a political party, you will be sorely let down, especially if your candidate or party wins.

I said that correctly.

I’ve always been intrigued by stories of celebrities or extremely wealthy individuals who remark that the fame and fortune they devoted their lives to doesn’t satisfy the deepest longings of their hearts. In fact, they only serve to highlight a greater need for what can’t been earned — acceptance and love.

Whether it’s fame, fortune, or political victories this is true for anything we set up as a god in our hearts.

 

If a political victory is your greatest aim, you will likely be disappointed by your candidate or party. Even if they win, they cannot give you what your heart ultimately needs. Public policy can do a lot of good things, but it cannot save humanity from our brokenness. It’s only through faith in Jesus does God restore our relationship to him and reconciles us to one another. Your hope and your identity must be rooted in the gospel of grace.

Politicians will come and go. Put your faith in the God who will never let you down and is always in power.


 

Mistakes We’ve Made and Lessons We’ve Learned as Parents

My wife and I have been married for almost 15 years and have three elementary-age kids (two boys and a girl). But we aren’t experts at marriage, parenting, or life by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, we feel like we are just getting started.

Over the past three years, we have had the privilege of sitting down with numerous couples in Clear Creek’s Expectant Parents class. Our conversations have been centered on how we, as followers of Christ, can strengthen our marriages once we bring home that precious new life. These conversations have been refreshing, reminding us of the joy and anticipation we felt entering into the new stage of parenthood. But, they’ve also been humbling, reminding us of our constant shortcomings as spouses and parents.

Here are just two examples of our many mistakes and what we’ve learned through them that we hope will be a blessing to you and your family:

 

1. Thinking we will outgrow selfishness

When we were first married, we quickly became aware of how selfish we were as individuals. This is no surprise to anyone who is married. No longer could we do things exactly how we liked. We had to make concessions to our preferences, like how to load the dishwasher or how to spend our evenings. But after a few arguments which usually ended in laughter, we quickly adjusted and moved on happily enough. However, when we became parents, we were blindsided by the awareness that we were still so selfish.

Before our first baby was born, we could eat out as often as our budget allowed and watch movies without interruption. Bringing a baby home disrupted the idea that we had outgrown our petty and selfish ways.

As God so often does, he kindly spoke truth to us through his word and through his people in the form of wise counsel. We began to hear him say, as he had when we first followed him, “If anyone wants to come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24). We were again reminded that our Father had called us to love and serve his family and our little family as well.

As our babies turned into toddlers, who turned into preschoolers, we would hear ourselves say quite often to them, “You don’t always get what you want,” or “You can’t have it all. You have to share.” Those words, spoken daily to a four-year-old regarding a Goldfish snack or an eight-year-old regarding device time, are the same words that we hear our Father speak to us as parents.

Each day we get to choose whether we will scream like the four-year-old who does not get her Goldfish or whether we will let go of our expectations and follow him.

 

2. Thinking we will lead our kids spiritually without being intentional

At the time our first baby was born, we were both connected at church, attending small group, and serving to lead unchurched people to be fully devoted followers of Christ. If we had been asked about our priorities in raising our newborn, sharing God’s grace and love with him would have been at the top of the list.

By the time our third child was born, we were in the same position, actively engaging with our Top Five and leading a small group. However, something was different in our home. All of a sudden, and before we realized it, our children could walk, talk, understand, and engage.

We realized that we had spent years talking around our kids about God and his work in our lives, but we hadn’t been intentional about talking to our kids about God and his work in our lives.

For years we had hosted small groups every week in our home both for high school students and for adults. But, for our children, the extent of their small group experience was the frantic cleaning of our home the minutes before guests arrived, the shoving of them into their rooms, and the fleeting aroma of snacks which they rarely tasted.

Once again, God, in his kindness, showed us that we needed to be intentional in discipling our kids if we were going to raise them in a way that demonstrated he was important to us. Discipleship would not happen on its own.

We realized that each day, we can let the moments slide past all too quickly, or we can choose to set aside time to intentionally lead and disciple our children.

 

We continue to be witnesses to these daily mistakes as well as many others in our own parenting. We humbly recognize that without consistent and daily prayer as a couple, we will fall into the traps of selfishness and of unintentionality.

In our class, we have shared our stories of arguments, fears, mishaps, and frustrations with expectant couples, in hopes that our stories would bring encouragement to people approaching their own parenting adventures.

One of the things we have learned, and continue to learn, is that parenting is refining. We, as parents, have made, and continue to make, mistakes. We are continually reminded of the call to repent and believe the good news of Jesus Christ. Even through the difficulties of parenting, God is drawing us to himself and giving us rest in the work he has already performed.


 

Introverts and Evangelism

When we talk about living on mission, there is a group of us who reflexively recoil at the thought of having to share the gospel in unfamiliar situations: introverts.

Before anyone gets defensive, I would never use introvert as a four-letter word. I love being an introvert, and God loves that I am an introvert too; it is he, after all, who creates both introverts and extroverts.

Still, being an introvert can present a unique set of challenges when doing the work of spreading Jesus’ good news.

If you find yourself at a loss, not knowing where to even begin, I want to offer you four things to remember as an introverted disciple of Christ. I hope they will encourage you to boldly share the good news of Jesus.

 

1. God Doesn’t Let Us Hide Behind Our Personality

For years, I would justify my reluctance to talk about Jesus by quickly throwing out what I like to call the introvert’s favorite quote:

“Preach the Gospel at all times; when necessary, use words.”

– (maybe) St. Francis of Assisi (but probably not)

The idea that if my life looks enough like Jesus then I won’t ever have to tell people about Jesus is nice on the surface but breaks down under the slightest examination.

First, I can easily convince myself that my life looks a lot more like Jesus than it really does. Second, “when necessary, use words” is not the same thing as “I don’t ever have to use words!” Finally, nobody’s life looks more like Jesus than Jesus’ did, and he spent his entire ministry telling people the good news of the Kingdom of God.

 

2. Lean Into Your Strengths

Extroversion and introversion are not good and bad personality traits, they are different personality traits.

You may not be good at meeting new people, public speaking, or working a crowd, but Scripture does not actually identify any of those things as essential to evangelism.

Many introverts prefer fewer and smaller interactions, but what we lack in volume we tend to make up for in depth. Introverts are often good listeners, show high levels of empathy, and exhibit long patience.

The messy business of developing deep relationships is often the vehicle for bringing the Gospel to specific issues in the lives of those closest to us.

 

3. God Rarely Leaves Us In Our Comfort Zone 

Reading through the Bible is a lesson in God calling people to things they would never have imagined doing on their own.

Abraham (99 years old) and Sarah (90 years old) were elderly and childless when God promised that Sarah would give birth to Isaac, and that Abraham’s descendants would be as numerous as the stars. David was the youngest and smallest of eight brothers, and a shepherd to whom God gave the faith to defeat Goliath, the Philistines’ greatest warrior and Israel’s greatest enemy. Mary was an unwed teenager when God called her to the most unique of roles of carrying, giving birth to, and being the mother of the promised Messiah. Paul was a zealous Pharisee who persecuted Christians until he met the risen Jesus and was turned into a church planter who brought the Gospel to the Gentiles.

When God calls us into situations that are completely uncomfortable, that we could never imagine ourselves in, and that require us to grow in ways we would rather not, his power and glory shine through us unmistakably.

 

4. Evangelism ≠ Preaching A Sermon 

When you read the gospels, you see Jesus bringing the good news of the Kingdom of God to people in many different ways.

Jesus performed miracles at a wedding celebration, preached the Sermon on the Mount to thousands of people, taught publicly in the synagogues, patiently explained his mission to the 12 disciples, and spoke individually to the Samaritan woman at the well.

While God never guarantees that he won’t ever call introverts to share his good news to an uncomfortably large group of people, he does regularly call us to spread the Gospel in the situations we most often find ourselves in. Situations like a quiet gathering with close friends, an intimate conversation with the neighbor struggling at home, or even the extrovert who likes to talk to you because they know you will truly listen. These are all situations you have probably found yourself in, and all great opportunities to share the Gospel.

 

As you go about your daily life, my prayer for you is that God would not only open your eyes to opportunities for sharing his good news, but that he would grant you the confidence to know that he has called you to a uniquely important way of doing so.