My favorite Christmas movie is Joyeux Noel. It tells the true story of a Christmas Day Truce in the trenches of World War I between the Germans, French, and British. The cost of World War I was a lost generation. A horrible war that many hoped would have ended war. But, in the midst of this war came a moment of worship and joy across the nations. On Christmas Eve, 1914, the two sides bent on destroying each other, began singing in their own languages “Silent Night” and “The First Noel”. The officers later met in “no man’s land” to exchange whiskey and cigars. A British soldier, Private Frederick Heath, recounted the evening this way: “How could we resist wishing each other a Merry Christmas, even though we might be at each other’s throats immediately afterwards? So we kept up a running conversation with the Germans, all the while our hands ready on our rifles. Blood and peace, enmity and fraternity—war’s most amazing paradox. The night wore on to dawn—a night made easier by songs from the German trenches, the pipings of piccolos and from our broad lines laughter and Christmas carols. Not a shot was fired.” By dawn, the soldiers found Christmas trees and walked across the barbed wire to celebrate, sing, and worship. They played soccer together. Chaplains and Priests of both sides led a unified Christmas service. I love this movie and true story because it so tangibly describes our current moment in redemptive history. War still rages while we worship Christ’s first coming. Conflict and pain while we live as peacemakers. Battles are fought while the church grows up in the love that created it. There are moments when the weapons are put down at the remembrance of Emmanuel. The first Christmas creates peace on earth, that is true. But in Advent, we long for the coming peace and Christ’s second coming. The Coming Peace One day, “The nations will inquire about Jesus and the world will be filled with the knowledge of him.”  Gospel saturation will happen. One day, there will only be plowshares…no spears. Jesus’ reign and rule will be uncontested. He will be the ruling Prince of Peace without enemy. His reign is marked by healing, too. It’s the healing of the nations. We’ve received the love of God in measures we cannot understand and yet there’s still more to come. And so, we respond to the Peace of Christmas with a longing for the next, with the understanding that we will find ourselves on battlefields until that day comes. Becoming a People that Say: Come, Lord Jesus, Come! The anthem of Advent is the phrase from the end of Revelation: Come, Lord Jesus, come! Come quickly! We hope and long for restoration. For the ending that is to come when everything is made right. When evil is judged and grace abounds. When God dwells with His people! What does it look like to become people who pray: Come! To be the Bride or the Church that says “Come, Lord Jesus!” It means endurance and faith. It means courage amidst war. It means speaking for justice and living with mercy. It means putting little stock in building our kingdom here and all investments on building the eternal Kingdom.

We all have a complicated relationship with the Church. It’s a ruckus communion of saints. It’s for many a place of quarreling, a place of scheming, a place of power, and even for those same people, a place of essential family. Our histories are that kind of mixed bag. Church, who we're called to be—all of us. The first Christian church service was on Christmas Eve beneath a chorus of angels and surrounded by shepherds who came to see, touch, and behold the Savior. Angels from heaven and shepherds from fields. As soon as Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the good news about God, He began calling disciples. He called fishermen and tax collectors. He called the ordinary and the outsider. He formed the relational and tangible environment of hope, faith, mission, love, and joy we call the church. Jesus, even from birth, creates a new humanity that doesn’t form based on salaries, ethnicity, geography, laws, worthiness, or intelligence. It’s formed by Him. Centered on Him. It’s a new humanity. Paul describes this formation of a new humanity in Ephesians 2:14-17 (NIV): For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, by setting aside in his flesh the law with its commands and regulations. His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace, and in one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility. He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near. He Himself is Our Peace He is Himself our peace. The incarnation of Christ is our peace—our very own. Furthermore, in His flesh, He set aside the commands and regulations, He tears down the dividing wall among insiders and outsiders, and He removes the hostility. This new humanity of love is formed through His presence on earth, not in a tablet or temple but on this earth. It’s why communion is such a marvelous marker at Christmas Eve services; in it, we remember the birth of Jesus as a baby. He had a body. He had blood. He had vital organs, a brain, a need for nourishment. He was God with us! But that baby, with body and blood, born in Bethlehem would one day be given for you and me. It Was His Purpose to Create One Body And in that reconciliation we wouldn’t be welcomed into a club, but into a new humanity. A new family. He did this to create a unified people. A people reconciled to one another through His death. He wasn’t just born to set His people free, but to make us together His people. He came preaching the gospel of peace to you and me. To those who were far off and to those who were pretty close. To the older brothers and the younger brothers! Christ Creates New Community Out of Our Mess Despite all these tools and ideas, you cannot create a community that bears with each other in love. In fact, I can guarantee there will be awkwardness, empty promises, lies, disappointments, and mini-disasters. Despite all of your attempts to clarify the gospel and the implication that we ought to love one another, the people you lead will not. Your community, more often than not, will feel like it is only a few steps away from falling apart. This disappointment often brings out the hero complex in leaders. As they help shape a community and begin to watch people grow in caring for one another, they may be tempted to wrap up each person’s story by themselves. As things go poorly for different members or the whole, they rush to solve things. They force conflict resolution meetings, interventions, and tell people what to do next. When things still go poorly, they blame themselves. All the while they’ve lost sight of the Christ who called them to community, the Savior who forms it, the God who leads it. Other leaders approach this disappointment by looking for new recruits. They look at the chaos of their missional community and conclude,

Growing up, my family spent each night of the holidays sitting beneath the glow of the Christmas tree and watching Christmas movies. We watched the original Miracle on 34th Street and the “new” Miracle on 34th Street (which I now realize is 20 years old). We watched the trilogy of The Santa Claus. We watched multiple versions of the Christmas Carol and romantic comedies that vaguely take place during Christmas like While You Were Sleeping. Each movie ends with lovely similarities: kissing, comfort, warm homes, snow, and singing. They end with Christmas as it was meant to be. This, we might imagine, is peace on earth! Shalom! As we’ve examined earlier, that’s what the angels sang to us “Peace on Earth”, but Jesus also makes some rather confusing claims about how He came. In fact, He says very blatantly in Matthew 10:34-36, “Don’t think I came to bring peace on earth! I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to turn ‘a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law—a man’s enemies will be the members of his own household.” On first blush, you might notice a few things. One, if Jesus came to get sons and fathers and mothers and daughters and in-laws to be against each other, mission accomplished! Two, Jesus is divisive. His kingdom doesn’t come with perfect snow and hugs gathered around the Christmas tree. The sword of Jesus’ life and existence puts a wedge in the world. But Jesus doesn’t stop at that quote. He goes on to say this: “Whoever loves his father and mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.” Family isn’t everything. Your parents and your children are not everything. In fact, they aren’t worthy of your devotion. Jesus will not allow you to put your hope in your parent’s approval. He will not stomach your worship of children, their success, or their presence. He will not settle for a Christmas card. He demands full devotion. He demands you consider what God thinks of you. He is either the greatest gift you could ever receive or He’s not with you. Either you give everything you have and make all consideration for His will, purpose, and kingdom, or you haven’t really seen it yet. But that’s still not the end of the quote. Jesus goes on: “And whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” You must lose your life. You must do the calculus and the cost-benefit analysis with regards to your soul, personality, story, gifts, resources, time, energy, family, and money. Is Jesus worthy of your life? In our church, Soma Los Angeles, we often talk about our gospel identity. That we’re transformed by the gospel and given a new identity in Christ. What Jesus is describing here is: will you give up your identity as a mother, fathers, daughter, son to make way for your new identity in the gospel, my son, my servant, my ambassador? Will you surrender your self-made identity around your job, accomplishments, nuclear family, political party, causes, and schedule to make way for an identity marked by the cross of Jesus? Jesus doesn’t come to bring a false peace where we continue to worship our family’s view of our lives. Jesus came to restore you to the one love, one hope, one Lord. The arrival of Jesus’ peace carries a choice: Is He worthy of everything, or is He worthy of nothing? Is Jesus King over everything, or is He King over nothing? The Call to Submit All to His Reign! After Jesus rose from the dead, He gathered His disciples together before He ascended into heaven. He makes this declaration in Matthew 28: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you...

How does the king come? We know He comes to change the world. We know He was born into our world. But how does Jesus come? What is the manner, the posture, the practice of Jesus’ incarnation? Returning to Mark’s description of Jesus’ arrival in Mark 1, right after the description that “Jesus came into Galilee”, we hear He came “proclaiming the gospel of God.” To the collective of humanity, He comes proclaiming the gospel of God. Jesus doesn’t just come, He comes speaking. He comes announcing. In fact, the meaning of this word proclaiming gives the sense that this is what He was saying over and over again. This is His “stump speech” on the trail of global reconciliation. It’s the topic at every meal. It’s in His casual conversations, Mark writes that Jesus continued to talk about the gospel of God. What is that? The word gospel simply means important, heralded news. Perhaps most commonly used as the message shared by messengers (or evangelists) coming from the battlefield to update the villages and towns within the kingdom: “The king has won and defeated the enemy! All is well and the war is over and we can enter peace.” A gospel is a newsworthy historical event that must be and is shared. Not only is it “breaking news”, it’s news that changes the lives of the people the news is intended for, whether they hear it or not. If you missed the announcement in the city square, the realities of the announcement still affected you. Throughout history, there were many gospel proclamations of empire expansion. Each time, the news required a response and brings a change of life, worldview, and reality. But Jesus doesn’t come proclaiming the gospel of Caesar or Alexander the Great. He comes proclaiming a gospel of God. Here He isn’t the messenger that speaks on behalf of a higher power and a distant war. He’s not just speaking on behalf of God, as priests and prophets do, He’s announcing the arrival of God’s victory that transforms the reality of the community He’s entering into. Jesus is proclaiming the news that God has come to us to defeat the kingdoms of sin, death, and evil and bring about his kingdom of grace, resurrection, and justice.   This is important: Jesus is not making a promise, He’s making an announcement with ramifications for everyone. This announcement proclaims God’s character, timing, and His coming to us. It’s good news for us, but it’s about God. The gospel of God declares His glory, fame, love, and actions taken through His character and power. The gospel is not about humanity, our sin, evil, or death. It’s about God and His unrelenting and just love. The contents: “The is fulfilled, the kingdom of God is at hand.” The Time is Fulfilled The first phrase of the good news about God, in Jesus’ ongoing proclaiming is this: the story has reached its climax. It’s not get ready, it’s not wait and see because it’s here. All human history has been leading to this point. Every prophecy. Every longing heart. Every promise. The time is now. Jesus didn’t just arrive to teach us how to leave. He didn’t come explaining the power of love. Jesus’ arrival is the beginning of the renewal and redemption of all things. The Kingdom of God is at Hand The kingdom of God has arrived. The kingdom of God is where God’s rule and reign is uncontested. The kingdom of God is where every wrong thing becomes right. The Bible describes, in its opening lines, a world created by God, with God, for God, and for a thriving humanity enjoying the fruit of an incredible creator who knows His creation and His creation knows Him. All of this is to God’s fame and glory. Humans were in love with one another, given purpose, fulfillment, and deep community with one another in addition to unity with God. The cry for rescue is inconceivable in the opening pages of the Bible. But then, everything spirals out of control and from chapter three onward humanity collectively cries out for rescue,

Wherever he reigns, His thriving and flourishing will be there, too! His law is peace. On May 19, 2018, Prince Harry of England married Meghan Markle in Windsor, England. The event was marked by the usual fanfare of such weddings: notable people, extravagant clothing, international media, commentary, vows, a sermon, a bridal veil, and love. There were a few notable or unique things that happened: Meghan walked herself two-thirds of the way down the aisle until her future father-in-law, Prince Charles, walked with her the last third, but by no means “gave her away.” Furthermore, Meghan was the first mixed race (being half black and white) to marry into the Royal family. Even more unconventional, she also wasn’t of nobility, had been divorced, was an actress, and an American. Even though Harry is quite far from the throne and all of those previously mentioned factors, this wedding became the most-watched royal wedding in history. More people watched this wedding than William and Kate’s, and more than his father’s wedding to Lady Diana. Most ordinarily, however, it was a wedding. The morning after, a journalist for an international news magazine wrote an article with this headline: “This Wedding Changes Everything!” The journalist went on to note everything I just mentioned and expound on how the ceremony was transforming international politics, racism, sexism, and even religious strife all in one swoop. Implied is this: elections, education, fame, power, laws, military, Hollywood, or even weddings can heal our broken world. However, the other headlines from that day in the United States were about the president being subpoenaed, a shooting at a school in Texas, and the falling apart of nuclear talks with North Korea. And yet, a wedding in Windsor had changed everything! It’s understandable to hope in that sort type of transformation—that variety of world peace. It’s a lovely sentiment; the love and union of two highly famous people could change the world. After all, fame facilitates change. Plus, they are two highly educated and talented people, which, in our post-enlightened viewpoint, leads to the greatest types of change. Education, talent, and reason are the beginnings of world change! Add to all these factors ethnic and historical backgrounds, TV ratings, and the wardrobes and it’s not hard to exclaim, “This Changes Everything!” Even though we all know it doesn’t. The world doesn’t work that way. World peace doesn’t arrive that way.   Fame, education, talent, power, and personality do not solve the world’s deep problems of injustice, evil, and war. In fact, we instinctively know this wedding likely won’t change a human heart outside the two central figures who exchanged vows and their future children. Here lies the problem: if all the talent, power, fame, and beauty in the world can’t defeat the anxiety, depression, anger, and angst within your own heart, how could it transform the world?  What can bring it peace? The promise in the Story of God says, a Child, a Son, and His government or rule. Isaiah 9:2-7 says: The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy; they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as warriors rejoice when dividing the plunder. For as in the day of Midian’s defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor. Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire. For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom,

At the center of the angel’s announcement on the first Christmas night is this phrase found in Luke 2:14; it’s what Linus quotes at the end of A Charlie Brown Christmas: “Glory to God in the Highest, and peace on earth towards men.” “Peace on earth” sounds so trite that most of us would rather ignore it. What kind of peace? Who’s peace? And for those that experience the pain of this world in real-time, the promise of peace on earth, even from the voice of angels, seems void on arrival. U2’s song, “Peace on Earth,” released at the turn of the century, they put words to what I often feel. The lyrics go in part like this: Heaven on earth We need it now I'm sick of all of this Hanging around Sick of sorrow Sick of pain Sick of hearing again and again That there's gonna be Peace on earth   No who’s or why’s No-one cries like a mother cries For peace on earth She never got to say goodbye To see the color in his eyes Now he's in the dirt Peace on earth   They're reading names out over the radio All the folks the rest of us won't get to know Sean and Julia, Gareth, Ann and Brenda Their lives are bigger than any big idea   Jesus, can you take the time To throw a drowning man a line? Peace on earth To tell the ones who hear no sound Whose sons are living in the ground Peace on earth Jesus, in the song you wrote The words are sticking in my throat Peace on earth Hear it every Christmas time But hope and history won't rhyme So what's it worth? This peace on earth These questions - What’s it worth, and what is this peace on earth? - I believe, are the questions of this cultural moment. They aren’t intellectual; they’re visceral. They’re emotional. Does Jesus make a difference on this earth? Does heaven touch earth? Will anything stop peace? Most of my neighbors and friends are, like Bono, tired of hearing about it every Christmas time. Sick of sorrow. Sick of pain. Sick of not knowing what to say to those whose sons are in the ground. So, what do the angels mean when they sing, “Glory to God in the Highest and peace on earth to men?” What is it worth? I think most people answer this question in three ways: Is Peace an Absence of War? Peace in this concept is no more war, battle, shooting, weapons. It is a cessation of conflict between nations that create violence. Essentially, we just all get along. We put our weapons down and cable news channels go out of business. This is found in the Bible throughout the Old Testament. We even read in a previous reflection about the lions eating alongside cows. Elsewhere we hear of weapons for death turned into gardening tools. The nations of the earth ending their wars with one another is part of peace on earth. The child born in Bethlehem will bring about an end to wars. But that’s not all this peace on earth is worth. Jesus doesn’t establish a United Nations, NATO, or a peace won through the principle of mutual annihilation. Honestly, most of us would settle for that value of peace on earth. Is Peace an Absence of Conflict with Each Other? Christmas and the internal sentimental demands create the perfect environment, not for peace, but for conflict. Spouses disparage each other’s abilities to decorate cookies, presents drain the bank account, and stress grows as you consider the bubbling family disunity that will be on display as you gather at your parent’s house. Does the peace on earth the angels announce vanquish the relational unrest? These micro-battles between persons are as self-evident as geopolitical ones. Does the arrival of Jesus throw us a line in redeeming the shame and guilt between humans that has fermented since that weary day in the garden when Adam and Eve saw themselves as naked and blamed one another? Yes. Jesus removes the walls of hostility as He bears our shame in His body and blood. Jesus gathers us from the domain of darkness and places us in the holy communion of saints centered on His rescue. In His body and blood, we find healing for wounds,

Christmas can be a time of lights, trees, parties, and decadent food, but it can also be a season of grief and sadness. For some, it’s the grief of a lost childhood; the holidays remind us of all the brokenness our young lives were immersed in. For many, Christmas is a strong reminder of the death of a spouse, parent, or child. Christmas was the last time my wife spoke with her mother. Throughout these first days, we’ve looked back at God’s faithfulness in fulfilling every promise of hope He gave His children concerning Jesus. The first prophets boldly proclaimed God’s coming amidst vast consumerism, greed, and a society that seemed “well off.” Then, in later years, prophets declared this hope amidst a broken society, exile, and confusion. As the people grieved the loss of everything, the prophets said things like, “Prepare the way of the Lord! The Lord will gather his people! The King will come and rule with justice and all will be made right.” The Psalmists also wrote in the same time, however, “The Lord watches over us!” Accompanying Hope Advent is a moment that pushes us into this odd kind of mourning—a mourning with hope. Grief or mourning described in the Scriptures challenges our notions of grief. It isn’t a Hemingway-esq burying of all emotions and denial of pain. It isn’t a journey to “getting over it” or moving on. On the other hand, it’s not a constant groveling in that pain either. Often, we’re prone to make our grief the central thing about ourselves and the central thing about God. We belittle people’s attempts to speak words of life, encouragement, or truth. The Scriptures don’t tell us how to grieve, but they tell us what we possess in our grief. The Bible tells us of the accompanying presence of hope. Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 (NLT): Dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died. And then in 1 Peter 1:3-6 (NIV): Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. The incarnation of God in Jesus guarantees hope in every trial and at the foot of every grave of every fallen saint. The core of your mourning contains a lasting hope in Christ’s arrival, His death, His resurrection, and His return. And this hope doesn’t expel weeping; often it welcomes it. When you are informed, as Paul says, of the hope of Christ, or when you’ve received the inheritance of hope, as Peter describes, you see the world more clearly. You see the fractured marriages, you see the pain of loneliness, the injustice of poverty, the horror of war, and all of creation itself cracking under the weight of pressure of human sin. You see those things, knowing this is not how Jesus intended His world to be. You also see those things and know that, through the sacrifice of Christ’s life and in the great wealth of His love, all of this will be made new. I invite you to spend time reflecting on this question: What hope does this Christ-Child Almighty God bring you? Where do you need that hope? How will you respond when it arrives in the ordinary and the humble?

“But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,     though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me     one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old,     from ancient times.” Therefore Israel will be abandoned     until the time when she who is in labor bears a son, and the rest of his brothers return     to join the Israelites. He will stand and shepherd his flock     in the strength of the Lord,     in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. And they will live securely, for then his greatness     will reach to the ends of the earth. Micah 5:2-4 Yesterday, we talked about the glorious arrival of God. Here is the mystery of a God who comes in awe and might to conquer all sin, death, and evil in the birth of a baby…born like you and me. Mary experienced the cursed birth pains as she delivered the Son who would set all free from the penalty of sin. Jesus was born like you and me, amidst chaos. In the moments after His birth, He had to be cleaned and swaddled. In the coming days, He had to learn to receive nourishment from His mother through breastfeeding. He had diapers that needed to be changed. He likely fell asleep tied to His parents as they walked home. The One who would walk on water had to learn to walk like the rest of us, stumbling, crawling, and clinging to our father’s pinkies. Jesus was a vulnerable, dependent child. The phrase of the angels, “born this day”, must alarm the senses when we allow it to sink in—Savior in a swaddle. One of my favorite authors and the original “ragamuffin,” Brennan Manning, writes this about the mystery and our response: Pious imagination and nostalgic music rob Christmas of its shock value, while some scholars reduce the crib to a tame theological symbol. But the [humble and needy] at the stable tremble in adoration of the Christ-child and quake at the inbreak of God Almighty. Because all the Santa Clauses and red-nosed reindeer, fifty-foot trees and thundering church bells put together create less pandemonium than the infant Jesus when, instead of remaining a statute in the crib, he comes alive and delivers us over the life that he came to light. We hope in a Child. We hope a helpless baby can restore all things, even us. God plans with purpose, from centuries past, for this child to overcome the world. Do We Reflect Our Savior’s Humility and Power in Our Lives? In Acts 2, we find ordinary people sharing meals in homes while surrounded by “signs and wonders”. In 1 Timothy, Paul commends us to “live such quiet and simple lives among the gentiles”. In Peter’s eloquent passage on suffering and serving Christ in his first letter, he quickly adds, “But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” The incarnation of humble hope in Jesus calls us into a life of humility and hope, too. As Christ came into our world, so should we enter our neighborhoods living ordinary lives with an extraordinary hope. Would your neighbors observe a humble people with a quiet strength? Would they see people marked by the humble and awe-inspiring arrival of the King of glory? Or, which is often the case, would they find frantic Christians coming to and from their house living a busy life at a church building? Does your life demonstrate a Good News which comes in the form of a dependent baby and a mighty King? .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,

Go on up to a high mountain,     O Zion, herald of good news; lift up your voice with strength,     O Jerusalem, herald of good news;     lift it up, fear not; say to the cities of Judah,     “Behold your God!”  Behold, the Lord God comes with might,     and his arm rules for him; behold, his reward is with him,     and his recompense before him. He will tend his flock like a shepherd;     he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom,     and gently lead those that are with young. Isaiah 40:9-11 When I was a kid, the #1 soccer player in the world was a handsome, Portuguese man named Luis Figo. If you remember him on the soccer field, you’re privileged. The way he passed, the way he ran, the way he shot the ball, was poetry. His #7 jersey flew off the racks in my hometown of Lisbon. He played for Real Madrid, the greatest and biggest soccer club in the world. Figo was transcendent. During spring break, my junior year of high school, I went on a choir tour across Europe in a big touring bus. We made a pit stop off the highway in Madrid on our way home. As my friends and I were buying candy and soda, the transcendent became imminent. Figo was pumping gas like a demigod while his super-model wife sat in the passenger seat. Our lives stopped as he came into the shop to pay his bill. Figo, the Portuguese patron saint of the people, was greeted by dozens of high school kids from his hometown. Some of us shouted. Some of us took pictures. Some of us were wearing his jersey and got autographs. Some of us were captivated by awe. We called our parents. We told all of our friends who missed the whole thing because they were asleep on the bus. It was, without exaggeration, the event of my high school years, standing in the same candy aisle as an icon, getting change from the same cashier (maybe our change was the same money he had!), hearing and feeling the energy of his fame, his worth, his power. His Arrival This is how Jesus comes into our world. Isaiah 40:9-11 is the call to receive Him on those terms. “Behold, the Lord comes!” The words of great news: “Behold he comes with might! His arm rules!” Jesus comes with might. This passage makes it clear; prepare to be afraid. Now, you might be thinking, “That sounds scary! Jesus doesn’t enter the world as a powerful King ready to make judgment and to rule. Doesn’t He actually come as a cute baby born in a birth story worthy of the entire blogosphere?” In the incarnation, God’s transcendent power becomes imminent power. The extraordinary receives ordinary swaddling cloths. But don’t be fooled. He arrives as King. Jesus isn’t born weak, but mighty. The otherness of God doesn’t disappear but comes close. He walks into the world—our world. Our mundane tasks are enveloped in His presence. Now, this is fundamental; the glory of Christ’s incarnation is good news. The weight and power of darkness is not too much for Jesus. The sinister shame of sin is not too much for Jesus. The powers of this world and all its injustice is not too much for Jesus. He is the greatest and He will be victorious. His fame is above all others. His worth exceeds them all. His might, judgment, and will overcomes this decaying world. You’re right. That’s scary. God’s transcendent power becomes imminent power. How do we respond to this incarnation? 1) We Herald the Good News of the King Christmas creates missionaries. “Go up, stand up, lift up your voice,” Isaiah says. Be strong and bold and tell the cities, “Behold, your God!” We shout the news of a Savior who can and who will save. We become highway signs pointing to the One who comes. Just as I tripped over myself telling my friends about Figo, we go into the world to tell about Christ’s coming. We become heralds, royal announcers, who tell this news well with clarity, strength, but also with tenderness, which leads us to the second response. 2) Curl Up into the Arms of the Shepherd “He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will...

As I mentioned previously, our family always cuts down a Christmas tree. Each year, we leave a stump in the ground—something that was once growing is now dead. Stumps in Oregon are a part of life. In fact Portland was built on the foundation of stumps. Bare hillsides in Oregon, where the forestry department utilizes a strategic plan for deforestation, make for haunting drives as you imagine the density and life that once filled skies and cast long shadows. The stumps whisper the story of life gone by, not the story of life to come. Yet, one prominent image of Advent is the stump. The stump, where you’ve been cut down. The stump, where you’re soul has gone quiet. The stump, where you’ve been destroyed. The stump is that tangible picture in everyday life that the world is not thriving but decaying. What are the stumps in your daily life? What are those visible images of sin, death, and evil? A Person Isaiah 11:1-10 says, get ready for the fruitful branch that will come from the stump. Read Isaiah 11:1-10. Out of death, there’s hope and it’s a Person. Yes, out of the stump will come a shoot, a frail glimmer of life that will become a branch that will then bear fruit. Then, verse 2, Isaiah says: Him. The Spirit will rest on Him. From the ground of death will come a Person. A Person who will make things right. He will be wise and judge. He will see. He will decide. He will make peace out of war. Out of the stump will come fruit. When He comes, death will be turned to life. He will rule and be in charge. Finally! There will be someone to care. Not only that. Isaiah goes on to describe the most bizarre picture of world peace! With the near naïveté of a beauty pageant contestant, Isaiah promises the shoot from the stump will make wolves sleep with lambs, calves snuggle with lions. Children leading the parade! Cows and bears together. The hunted and the hunter living at peace. The world no longer at odds. Longing for Hope While this passage speaks a message of great hope and sits in the pantheon of must-quote Christmas passages, I find many Christians bored with it. It doesn’t do anything for them. If anything, it doesn’t describe a life longed for in Jesus, but a life already received through the power of the holy supermarket, the wisdom of Wall Street, the counsel of consumerism, and knowledge and fear of the other. In fact, I frequently encounter Christians that have little use for the coming Kingdom of God. It unnerves them to imagine this world making way for the world of Jesus. Perhaps you are such a Christian. You, with the help of a few others, have already built a peaceful kingdom. You hope things stay the same. If God wants to add a cherry on top, so be it, especially if it comes in the package you envision. So long as it fits the decorative tastes of your kingdom. The hope described in the Bible feels like a luxury for the put-together, the self-sufficient, the safe, the secure, and the stable. Hope for the independently secure is like fine jewelry to wear around the house. It’s like the orange put in your stocking on Christmas morning. It’s a nice accent piece for an already secure life. Is the hope of Christ’s coming as a garnish? To a person who lives in chaos, who breathes in the atmosphere of injustice, who tarries in the tyranny of trauma: hope is currency. Hope that injustice will become justice. Hope that death will become life. Hope that war will become peace. Hope that wounds will become wholeness. Hope for Christ’s coming, for the needy, is the foundation of life. Isaiah 11:1-10 is that kind of hope. But it isn’t generic, blind hope. Its focus is on a King who is coming to bring justice. To make wrong things right. Sick things healthy. Outsiders insiders. Are you longing for hope? See, your level of expectation and longing for Jesus’ Kingdom is the barometer of your soul towards God. I’m convinced one of the main reasons we struggle to embrace our identity as missionaries in the church is becaus...