The Saturate Podcast

In this episode of the Saturate Podcast, Brad Watson talks with Adam Hillyer, the student director at Doxa Church in Seattle, Washington. They discuss student equipping, developing student leaders, and how you approach discipleship with students.

In this episode of the Saturate Podcast, Brad Watson, Jared Pickney, and Adam Breckenridge talk with pastoral counselor and spiritual director, Richard Plass about the underlying and bedrock of missional community experience: relationships. While we could talk about techniques to create space for relationship and we can cast vision for the identity of the Church as family, one thing can’t be ignored: we are deeply relationally wounded and inept.

A few years ago, I ran a 5K on Thanksgiving with my whole family - three kids and two strollers. As we crossed the finish line the announcer said, “Welcome the stroller team!” The race was through the heart of the city of Portland and over two of the prominent bridges that connect that city. As I pushed my daughter and trudged along through the rain and wind, my legs grew tired. They ached, and I kept pushing forward, but I slowed down. Then, I realized my “jog” was the same speed as my walking. My daughter shouted, “Go like a rocket ship!” But I was spent. I stopped and let her run alongside my wife and I walked a few hundred yards across the bridge before picking up my jog again and finishing out strong alongside my wife. I wasn’t strong enough to make it the whole way. I didn’t have the endurance to push my daughter the entire way. I was weak. In those two hundred yards on the bridge, I looked out over the city, our city, and in that moment I prayed, “God, I’m not strong enough to save this city, to help it, to endure, or to push people to you.” This prayer is evidence of God’s grace. So much of my time in Portland was spent running hard, pushing, striving, and attempting to be enough. The sin of this is not simply the delusion, but the rebellious stealing glory from God and proclaiming the “gospel of Brad.” Repentance began on that bridge with me praying, “I’m not enough; you are.” This is the expectant Christmas prayer of all who serve Jesus as King. It brings us to the point of recognition that we are not enough. We know our world is in need of peace, hope, and love, and yet it is revealed to us that we are not enough to bring it to ourselves, let alone our city. Jesus, even as a baby, was more than enough for the world. This is the power of the incarnation. The story of God becoming a baby is also the story of God becoming King. John’s incarnation narrative differs from Luke and Matthew. In it he simply writes, The Word was made flesh. We are Servants to the Son who was Born King Jesus was born into this world with nothing to prove. He was born the King of kings and the Prince of peace. The invitation to the shepherds that night was to come and behold the promised one and salvation of God reaching into our world. This is the same invitation to all who become citizens of that Kingdom: behold the King! God’s first coming transforms us from refugee to citizen of the Kingdom of God. We were once bound to the kingdom of darkness, alienated and estranged from God. Now have been transferred into the Kingdom of glorious light. No longer do we scavenge for a place in this world. No longer are we resigned to being our own king. No longer do we establish earthly kingdoms. Instead, Christmas reminds us we have found our home in Jesus our King, and our lives are shaped by life in His Kingdom of compassion, grace, forgiveness, love, and hope. As we wrap up this series, I want to remind you of the vision we set ourselves on: that we would prepare room in our hearts for God with us as we live our identity in Christ in the ways He has called each of us to. “Joy to the world, the Lord is come; Let earth receive her King; Let every heart prepare Him room, And heaven and nature sing.” .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_content button { background-color: #c75145 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_content .et_bloom_fields i { color: #c75145 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_content .et_bloom_custom_field_radio i:before { background: #c75145 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_content button { background-color: #c75145 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_container h2, .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_container h2 span, .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_container h2 strong { font-family: "Open Sans", Helvetica, Arial, Lucida, sans-serif; }.et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_container p, .et_bloom .

Our Advent traditions have become numerous: we cut down our tree at the Beck family farm in the shadow of Mt. Hood; we make cinnamon rolls for our neighbors; we go ice skating at the mall; I take the girls to see the Nutcracker; and we go on a hike through the snow and forest on Christmas morning. Between all of these moments, we experience the normal hustle and bustle of America drinking hot chocolate, shopping, wrapping, and many times traveling. The most revered and treasured tradition, however, is our Christmas Eve feast. This family tradition pre-dates our marriage when my wife and her mother would welcome in anyone without a family to be with and without a place to go. This meal was important to my late mother-in-law because it depicted generosity, family, and the entire message of the gospel. Our Christmas Eve meal is the most spiritual and religious moment of our entire holiday season. Mirela prepares great food from appetizers to dessert. We buy the best beer, the best wine, the best whiskey. We decorate our home and we welcome in friend, stranger, and acquaintances. I remember our first year in Portland saw us welcome a couple we met on the street searching for live music, our landlord, and friends from long ago. Each year we see a different collection, and yet each year is the same; we have a feast on the evening we celebrate God’s arrival. There’s hardly anything more appropriate in our worship. More than hymns, more than sermons, and even more than candles, we see God’s arrival to us at a table with other people. Our Longing for the Feast Food is significantly religious. It is through food that Adam and Eve rebel. The first biblical meal is the perversion, pollution, and de-creation of all God had made. Adam’s feast ushers the world into chaos. Through food, humanity enters a groaning and waiting for wholeness, restoration, and peace. Sin—everything that is unkind, unmerciful, destructive, wicked, lonely, murderous, and mortal—has its birth in that first meal. Through Advent, we weep over the consequences of Adam and Eve’s meal in which they doubted God’s goodness and believed God to be withholding. Advent is necessary because of the separation caused by sin. Advent is the season we observe the agony of war and hope for peace. We aspire to hope while we acknowledge our own despair. We long for love while confronting our inability to receive love from another or muster the courage to love another. The world watches for God’s light, peace, joy, salvation, and love to break into our world. We wait for the abundance, blessing, and eternal life of God that overpowers our sin and cleanses us. It was through a meal creation fell apart, and it’s through a meal that God is restoring all things, including us. The Arrival of the Gospel Feast You’ve likely never heard an Advent or Christmas sermon on Isaiah 25, but it is a deep song of arriving hope and peace to the world. On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined. And he will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations. He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken. It will be said on that day, “Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation. (Isaiah 25:6-9 ESV) Isaiah points us to a moment when the waiting will be over. When God will gather all people for a rich feast, an incredible celebration. It’s in that gathering in that shared feast that we will see the swallowing up of death, the removal of mourning, the extinguishing of condemnation, and the tearing of the separation between God and humanity.

On these last days of Advent, we turn our gaze to the love embodied in the crib. The incarnation carries into our world not just hope, peace, and joy, but Christ brings with Him a love of unending depth. As Sally Lloyd Jones writes in The Jesus Storybook Bible, “A never-ending, never-giving up, always and forever love.” Paul Miller describes what happened in the incarnation this way, “Love walked among us.” How does a baby love beyond smiles, sweet smells, and long sleep? The angel declares the reality of God’s love that first Christmas Eve, “Unto you is born this day, a savior.” Jesus is born Rescuer. Born to rescue us from a world made wretched through sin, death, and evil. Born for the world and to save the world. Jesus Born Savior Returning to Isaiah, as we have often this past month, we find the passion of Jesus predicted in powerful poetry in Isaiah 52-53. Regularly read on Good Friday, this poem in Isaiah reveals the intent of Immanuel. Let the words sink in as you consider Christ born into this world to redeem it. See, my servant will act wisely;    he will be raised and lifted up and highly exalted. Just as there were many who were appalled at him—    his appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any human being    and his form marred beyond human likeness— so he will sprinkle many nations,    and kings will shut their mouths because of him. For what they were not told, they will see,    and what they have not heard, they will understand. Who has believed our message    and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? He grew up before him like a tender shoot,    and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,    nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by mankind,    a man of suffering, and familiar with pain. Like one from whom people hide their faces    he was despised, and we held him in low esteem. Surely he took up our pain    and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God,    stricken by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions,    he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him,    and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray,    each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on him    the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed and afflicted,    yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,    and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,    so he did not open his mouth. By oppression and judgment he was taken away.    Yet who of his generation protested? For he was cut off from the land of the living;    for the transgression of my people he was punished. He was assigned a grave with the wicked,    and with the rich in his death, though he had done no violence,    nor was any deceit in his mouth. Yet it was the Lord’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer,    and though the Lord makes his life an offering for sin, he will see his offspring and prolong his days,    and the will of the Lord will prosper in his hand. After he has suffered,    he will see the light of life and be satisfied; by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many,    and he will bear their iniquities. Therefore I will give him a portion among the great,    and he will divide the spoils with the strong, because he poured out his life unto death,    and was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of many,    and made intercession for the transgressors. (Isaiah 52:13-53:12 NIV) The Suffering Servant, the King of Glory, comes to be with us in sin, and to take on the sins of men. The love of God compels God to suffer and die so that Immanuel, God-with-us, can be a forever reality. There are three clear signs God loves you without end: the swaddling cloths of a newborn baby, the bloody cross, and the empty tomb. There is one clear definition of the love with which God has loved us all: Jesus.

One of my favorite Christmas memories came five years ago when Mirela told me she was pregnant with our second child. I was overjoyed, amazed, and humbled. When that daughter was born we named her “Maitê,” which means “beloved.” We named her that because it was something we need to be reminded of, that we are His beloved. And it was an affirmation of her identity, too. But mostly, her name reminds us that she was born amidst God’s clear and transformative love poured into our marriage and our lives. Story from Our Marriage Six years ago amongst a missional community meal, my wife and I shared more honest than we ever had. We were somewhat nervous, but mostly relieved. We had just come out of the shadows. Our marriage was in trouble. We were in trouble. This was the night we told our community how bad it was and that we needed intense marriage counseling. The days leading up to our public confession of mess were filled with interventions from fellow leaders and a painful conversation in which I asked Mirela, “Have there been good times in our marriage?” She responded, “Some, but they don’t last long.” She had been fighting for my attention for quite some time. Our marriage had endured lots of pain we simply raced past: the loss of a parent, deep financial hardships, the US immigration system, and doing ministry in the core of a city that wanted nothing to do with the church. The bulk of our married life had been spent leading communities, doing ministry, planting a church, and pretending to have a good marriage. This was our fourth missional community to lead. We had already sent three communities out. I had already led trainings on how to ‘do’ missional community. This was the moment I finally felt like I belonged to a missional community. It was the first moment we truly asked something from any community. We needed childcare, we needed funds for counseling, and we desperately needed prayers. We spent the next year simply participating. We weren’t the leaders anymore. Mirela and I have never been the same. That community was never the same either. This honest moment ushered in a sort of caring and loving I had stopped expecting from those I was in “community” with. Looking back I realize that I had finally become a burden and I had become a brother. We sought the gospel together. Mirela and I shared what we were learning in counseling. People saw our marriage transform right before their eyes. Our community paid for months and months of counseling. They watched our daughter. They regularly asked what was going on. Beyond this, each couple examined their own marriage. Mirela and my learning and growing was theirs, too. Furthermore, it was in this season that I saw the power of simply pursuing love for God, love for one another, and love for neighbor. Emboldened by counseling and my community, I began to share what God was doing in my life with friends and neighbors. In telling them about my mess, crazy things began to happen. Neighbors wanted to talk about Jesus more. They wanted to come to our church’s worship gatherings. They wanted to hear how we saw God’s presence in our mess. Side note: when people ask me if missional communities work, I look back to this story and say, “Yes, they do.” This one was vital in nudging me to love God, love His Church, and love my neighbors. Beyond all of that, though, that time in our marriage taught us both two remarkable things: we are a mess and we are deeply loved. So we named our daughter, Maitê, or beloved. Knowing the love of Jesus changed our marriage. You are Loved There’s obviously a lot to talk about in regards to Christmas. There are a lot of logistics to figure out. But, when we gaze at the child in the manger, and the Savior born to us, I hope you will find the love of God. I hope He lands in your life and that the Spirit reminds you that your name is beloved. I also pray that as you walk into the frantic last days of Advent,

We find ourselves between two arrivals - the first in Jesus in Bethlehem and the second as He comes again. We stand between resurrection and restoration.  That’s precisely why this season is so important; it locates our hope, peace, joy, and love. It locates it in the historic gospel of Jesus and the coming that we wait for. Our joy is full as we look to the manger and our joy can be even more full as we look to His certain Kingdom and the feast we will share when the Bride and the Bridegroom are united. Revelation 19:7-8 (ESV) speaks of this reality. “Let us rejoice and exult    and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come,    and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself    with fine linen, bright and pure.” End of World War II in England It all reminds me of stories from the end of World War II and how it was celebrated in England. The war in Europe didn’t end suddenly. It was long and drawn out. The allies, especially after liberating concentration camps across Europe, would not stand for anything less than complete and unconditional surrender. At the same time, in all practical senses, the war in Europe was over once the allies broke through the lines in western and eastern Germany. Victory was secured and victory was inevitable through the sacrifice, courage, and fortune of the British, Canadian, American, and Russian soldiers. And yet, the Nazi’s held on. Even after repeated bombings of Berlin and the capturing of 1.5 million soldiers on the western front, the Nazi’s refused to surrender. Even after Mussollini and Hitler’s deaths, the war did not end. The war wasn’t over, but the victory had been won. Such a strange time. In England, which had been bombed for years and lost thousands of young men to the war, they made preparations for the day of victory. Groups of citizens gathered the materials for flags and parades. Bar-keepers ordered and saved beer, whiskey, and champaign. But not a single bottle was to be opened until the news rang out of complete victory. They, in perfect English fashion, delayed the exuberant celebration until the perfect moment. Yet, as historians explored this moment, they found the quiet joy amongst the people. The resolve of the assured end of war brought smiles, peace, and levity to the entire world. The war was won but not over. The celebration had begun in hearts, minds, conversations, and even a few bars here and there, but none of those parties compared to that day on May 9, 1945 when the war was completely over. This is where we are between the cradle and the new city. Jesus was born Savior and King. The victory has been won while the war still rages…but rest assured the war is won. There are two great verses from the old Christmas hymn “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” that call us into that kind of joy. These verses remind us of the comfort and the victory. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen God rest ye merry, gentlemen Let nothing you dismay Remember, Christ, our Savior Was born on Christmas Day To save us all from Satan's power When we were gone astray O tidings of comfort and joy Comfort and joy O tidings of comfort and joy! "Fear not, then," said the Angel "Let nothing you affright This day is born a Savior Of a pure Virgin bright To free all those who trust in Him From Satan's power and might." O tidings of comfort and joy Comfort and joy O tidings of comfort and joy! Let’s live all of life with that comfort and knowledge of the victory that Jesus has defeated sin, death, and evil! .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_content button { background-color: #c75145 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_content .et_bloom_fields i { color: #c75145 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_content .et_bloom_custom_field_radio i:before { background: #c75145 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .

I haven’t found a suburban light show, a boat parade light show, or the lights in a fancy mall in Los Angeles to compare the Christmas lights of Lisbon, Portugal. My home city truly rises to the occasion as they string intricate lights across the narrow streets. Blankets of sparkles fill the air above the ancient streets. It’s an image to behold and the place to be. You can’t simply drive past these lights; you have to get out and walk around. You soak up these lights and smell freshly roasted chestnuts. All this to say: one, my childhood was better than yours, and two, light is beautiful. The True Light While the other Gospel writers made note of the star in the sky, and the glory of the angels shining on shepherds, when John wrote his preamble to his Gospel, he chose light as a key image for the coming of Jesus. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:1-5 NIV Then, a few lines later: The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God. The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. John 1:9-14 NIV The Light of God appeared to us in darkness. The Light came into the world. He came to make children born of God. The Word became flesh and dwelt with us. In Jesus, we have seen the glory of God, full of grace and truth. What a truth to base your entire life on! Proclaiming Life as Complete Joy As John wrote 1 John, he began with this: “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life. The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us. We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. We write this to make our joy complete.” 1 John 1:1-4 NIV He says, We’ve seen it! We’ve touched it! Life! God was with us and God is with us. Now, John and his friends are writing and proclaiming this reality of God made flesh to others as a source of joy for themselves!  John also quotes Jesus saying to His disciples, “You are the light of the world!” (Matthew 5:14 NIV). John was a remarkable disciple who picked up on incredible images. But for John, light was central to the identity of Jesus and the entity of life. Not only that light is core to who we are as His disciples (in that image and identity), but there’s no greater joy than to declare the gospel of Jesus. There’s no greater joy than welcoming others into the fellowship and communion of saints. This shatters much of our expectation of joy in this life. We might gaze at a fancy feast as a picture of joy. We might imagine a new home as joy. Even in super spiritual terms, you might imagine a big church service as joy. But for John, as a light in the world, there’s no more complete joy than proclaiming the reality of God made flesh! The mission of God comes with a joy indescribable. Do you want joy? Pursue the Kingdom! Do you want joy? Be a light in the darkest of places in your city. While you look ahead to the new year,

Christmas is one of those strange times you sing a lot. It’s also a time when you oddly sing words in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and all sorts of languages. A favorite, I think, is the song “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” I’ve noticed most people really love the refrain, “Rejoice, rejoice.” But what is that word really about? What does it have to do with joy? In Matthew’s Gospel, Joseph receives a dream about the birth of Jesus. An angel comes to him and tells him the whole thing, and then also tells him that he should call Him “Emmanuel,” meaning “God with us.” In this, the angel quotes Isaiah 7. We’ve read a lot of Isaiah in this reflection series, but this one is the strangest.  The Old Testament can be weird! Isaiah 7 centers around the king of Judah, Ahaz, and a massive, geopolitical drama; the most powerful army known in human history baring down on the three small kingdoms of Palestine: Syria, Israel, and Judah. Syria and Israel became allies and wanted to force Judah (that’s Ahaz’s kingdom) to join. If he wouldn’t join their alliance, they would invade and crush them and take the kingdom as their own. The king, though, is stuck considering his next move. Maybe he should join the big dog in the region and gain the spoils after the dust has settled against the other two. Or maybe he has to join an alliance, but then, what good is it to be king if other kingdoms are dictating your life? And, how faithful can his people be to their calling? Ahaz is left wondering, “Who can I align myself with? Who will be with me while the powers around me build, while the walls come crushing in, and while the chaos erupts?” Then Isaiah comes to the king saying, “Be careful, be quiet, do not fear, and do not let your heart grow faint.” He goes on to say, “These kingdoms will fail. You will be okay.” But Isaiah ends his pep talk with these words. “If you are not firm in the faith, you will not be firm at all.” Isaiah says what God, through His prophets, has always said: Trust in God. Have faith. Remain in an alliance with the God who established your life, your kingdom, your reign. He is the trustworthy One of immense power. Don’t play politics of fear. God says: Trust me! I’ve established your people. I made your kingdom. You have nothing apart from me. Trust that I am in this with you. Then, God says, “Ask me for a sign as high as the heavens or as deep as hell. I will give you a sign so you can trust me!” Ahaz responds, I will not. There’s a law that says not to. He refuses the sign, the call to trust. (Side note: I wonder how often we use religion to avoid God and do what we want and continue in our despair?) Ahaz didn’t want a sign from God. Often, we’re more comfortable with a world in which God isn’t involved. God replies, I will give you a sign anyway! It will be a baby boy who will refuse evil and do what is good. He will know the good. Those other kingdoms will vanish. Oh, and the boy’s name will be, “God is with us,” because God will be with you. God is moving toward you. My sign, God says, will be from heaven, and it will go as low as to break the gates of hell. God not only reached His arm into the world to bring justice and loving-kindness, He became the embodiment of justice, hope, peace, and loving-kindness. This is Emmanuel. Tim Keller writes: “the incarnation is how God becomes soft.” God’s sign is to make Himself touchable. Vulnerable. Killable. Emmanuel from the womb to the cradle to the tomb, God in this mess with us. Experiencing it, knowing it. Emmanuel is essentially what I think we want from our deepest friendships and relationships, and especially from God, isn’t it? We want God to know, understand, and be present in “this” with us. That is what God is saying. I’ve got you. I’m with you. For us, the sign is not in the words of a prophet but in the child born the Savior. It also joins two things we often separate, trust and joy,

We tell the stories that matter most to us and our world. The stories you tell at parties, over dinner, and even in small talk have two overlapping qualities: you like them and you think the people around you will like them as well. The stories we tell reveal what matters most to us. Families have stories that are so important they get told over and over again. The way into the family is to know them. One of my family’s revered stories happened last year. Last November, our first Christmas in Los Angeles, we found, after much research, a farm only an hour away that allowed you to cut down your own Christmas tree. So, we loaded the kids, a good friend, and my wife’s aunt into our van and drove out of Los Angeles to fulfill our family’s destiny. The farm was nice and we found a good tree, cut it down, and carried it down the hill. They measured how tall it was, we paid, and a nice teenage boy who worked there carried it to our car and tied in on our roof. And then we were on our way back home over the dry, rolling hills of the 101. It was a beautiful day and drive with a healthy soundtrack of James Taylor and Mariah Carey. Then, as we were driving 70 miles per hour through traffic we heard something on the roof. Then out the back of our van, we saw it - our tree tumbling behind us. Mirela (my wife) shouted, “Our tree!” and our children turned in their seats and saw what we all saw - our $90 hand-picked tree rolling down an LA freeway. Our oldest daughter wept, “This is the worst Christmas ever!” Our second cried, “Let’s just go to Target and get a fake tree!” Our son finally realized what had happened and just cried. I was in shock. Amidst the wailing, Mirela and I tried to figure out what to do. I wasn’t about to go back and get another $90 tree and I wasn’t going to Target either. Mirela decided the best thing would be to go back and try to get what was lost, to redeem the very tree that bailed on our family Christmas. Reluctantly, I turned around. We drove three miles back before circling back looking for our tree. Our children were filled with some glimmer of hope. I was certain we would add salt to their wounds when they saw the trampled and destroyed tree. But, there it was, sitting neatly on the edge of the left-hand lane and fortunately in a small stretch where there was a shoulder and space to pull our van off to the side of the highway. Then, in my finest and dumbest moment as a dad, I ran down the highway, grabbed our tree, ran back, and shoved it inside our van. I had saved Christmas. The children cheered, the signing continued, and we haven’t stopped telling the story because it makes us happy and those we tell it to laugh. It invokes a response, a memory, and for those of you reading, it brings you into my world and my family. The good news announced by the angel in Luke 2:10 is a story that causes great joy for all people. It’s a story that gets told often. Angels and Shepherds Tell the Story The storytellers are angels—creatures from the Kingdom of heaven—and shepherds—creatures from the wilderness. The angels only share the story once. They go to the shepherds, scare them, declare the good news of the birth of a child, and where to find Him. The shepherds respond by racing to find and see this Savior and baby for themselves. In fact, they tell each other, “Let’s go and see this thing that has happened!” (Luke 2:15 NIV). This is important. The good news and the story is historical. It’s an event that has occurred and now they are going to see it themselves. That’s the power of the angels’ story. They tell people who respond by going and seeing. They enable space and they give direction; this is where you will find salvation, glory, and peace. Go there! How often do we tell that story with that kind of invitation? "Here’s the good news of Jesus. Come be part of my community to see Him for yourself! Here’s where you go to find that love and forgiveness.” I’m convinced one of our biggest weaknesses in ev...