The Christmas decorations are still in boxes in my garage, waiting to be loaded into the attic, so it's hard to imagine moving into the Lenten season, but it really is almost here.
I have always loved this time of year, the transitioning from winter to spring that foreshadows how the pain of Christ's sufferings will take us into the glory of resurrection.
The Book of Common Prayer offers three invitations for our spiritual journey during Lent. These are:
Of course, words like repentance or self-denial or even fasting can fill us with a bit of dread. We wonder if this will be depressing or more costly than our souls can afford. I know these feelings well--I lived them a good part of my spiritual life.
Of course, words like repentance or self-denial or even fasting can fill us with a bit of dread. We wonder if this will be depressing or more costly than our souls can afford.
But the secret that's rarely spoken of, one that took me years to discover as I broke loose from the bonds of legalism, is that these kinds of spiritual disciplines are really just ways for us to open our hearts to receive from God. We don't earn our spiritual stripes by repentance, nor do we commend ourselves to our Heavenly Father through fasting. We really don't become better Christians by engaging in self-denial or meditation.
The long and short of it is that Lenten practices have little value except to the extent that they enable us to come humbly to God, holding out our broken, needy souls so that he can pour his life and love and holiness into them by his Spirit. Thus, we need not approach Lent with grand plans or worthy commitments or fervent devotion, but rather ask ourselves how we can be more intentional about opening ourselves up to the goodness of God.
We need not approach Lent with grand plans or worthy commitments or fervent devotion, but rather ask ourselves how we can be more intentional about opening ourselves up to the goodness of God.
To that end, I am providing a special web page for those who might want to journey together this Lent. It includes several opportunities for you to participate, as well as resources throughout the Lenten Season. I do hope you will join me. You can find that page by clicking on the button below!
READ: LUKE 2: 1-7, ISAIAH 9:6-7, ISAIAH 53:3-11, REVELATION 4:1-11 (CLICK ON VERSES TO READ)
CLICK HERE FOR A FAMILY VERSION OF THIS DEVOTIONAL
CLICK HERE FOR CHILDREN'S ACTIVITY PAGE FOR DEVOTIONAL
Have you ever taken the time to think deeply about what happened when the Almighty entered into the womb of a woman? When the Son of God became the Son of man -- flesh and blood, bones and joints, muscle and sinew? I love the picture Daniel Fuller paints in his book, Unity of the Bible, in which he describes the incarnation as a winding staircase, stretching from the glory of heaven down into a battered and broken planet. While God's redemptive plan was in His heart before the foundation of the world, humankind's first glimpse of it is in the stable that reeked of animal dung and moldy straw, where a newborn babe lay shivering in the chill of night, vulnerable in every possible way.
To me, the most stunning thing about Christ’s descent from glory was His choice to let go of His role in sharing equality with God. Though in essence He retained His Deity, in experience He chose to give up His rights as God, meaning He had to depend upon His heavenly Father for power or wisdom or guidance or even sustenance. What must it have been like for the all-sufficient Son of God to know that in coming to earth He would be at the mercy of weak and sinful human beings? Can you see Him there, standing on that staircase just before the Spirit placed Him in Mary’s womb? What kinds of thoughts went through His mind?
Can you see Him there, standing on that staircase just before the Spirit placed Him in Mary’s womb?
From that manger in Bethlehem, Christ’s descent from glory soon continued. His parents became vagabonds, settling as strangers in a foreign land where their livelihood depended upon Egyptians who probably detested them. Later Mary and Joseph would establish their family in Nazareth, a place of derision for its lack of any distinguishing mark, even among the Jews. As Jesus prepared for public ministry in the wilderness fast, the god of the world He’d come to save taunted Him for His fall from power, daring Him to reclaim His rights as the Almighty. He refused, and the descent went on.
For the next three years the Son of Man sought to do His Father’s will while sleeping in fields and hills, looking to benevolent women for financial support, seeking solace through prayer in the wee hours of His dark and lonely nights. Scorned by heathens, rejected by the religious elite, living under constant threat of death, the drumbeat of descent pounded out its rhythm day after difficult day.
Down and down and down the winding staircase Jesus went, as His closest followers denied and abandoned Him upon His arrest. Then mocked, spat upon, slapped, and scourged to a bloody pulp, He was paraded through the streets like a criminal and hung to die, while His earthly mother looked on in despair. And for six hours on Calvary, the Son of Man descended to the very depths of depravity as He took on the sins of the world, leading to the most painful predicament of all – a severing of relationship with His Father.
We will perhaps only grasp the scope of it when we see Him one day on His throne, radiant in splendor, attended by angels and worshipped by saints from every tribe and tongue.
This is just a smattering of the descent from glory that awaitd the baby Jesus when He entered our world . We will perhaps only grasp the scope of it when we see Him one day on His throne, radiant in splendor, attended by angels and worshipped by saints from every tribe and tongue. But there could be no better time to ponder such a thing than on Christmas Day, as we celebrate our Lord’s birth.
So as we read the Christmas story and exchange our gifts and share our meals, let us take time to remember what it really cost to redeem fallen humankind. May we muse on that manger scene through the prism of glory, where our King reigns over all; His beauty filling the temple of the heavens and splashing out across our world in wonders we are privileged to behold. And as we do, let us bow and worship the One who planned that descent to make us His own long before this world was formed. Worthy are you Oh Lord.
Today is one of celebration, family, sharing, and fellowship. Take a few minutes to give thanks for all of these things as you ponder that staircase. See Jesus going down it step by step. Read the following passage slowly and prayerfully, asking the Spirit to give you fresh revelation of what it meant for Jesus to humble Himself and become a man.
Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death— even death on a cross! (Philippians 2:6-8)
Now read the rest of the passage, turning into a prayer of praise and worship for the King of kings and Lord of lords whose birth we celebrate today.
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Philippians 2:9-11)
A CHRISTMAS ACTIVITY
Enjoy the day!
READ: LUKE 2:36-38, MATTHEW 5:6, JOHN 6:35 (CLICK ON VERSES TO READ)
Her name was Anna and she was the talk of the town. First there was that temple insanity. Day in and day out she’d practically lived there for as long as anyone could remember. Some claimed her pretense of piety had gone on for decades, ever since her husband died, leaving her a young widow. Praying and fasting, fasting and praying, ignoring priests and prophets, even wellborn Pharisees, who wagged their heads at her foolishness.
And now…well it was beyond belief. Just like that, they say she flew out of the temple laughing like a lunatic, cornering anyone crazy enough to listen to her babbling about some baby destined to be the Messiah. What in the world had gotten into her?
I find the story of Anna fascinating– three short verses that resonate with joy and intrigue. Luke tells us little about this woman he calls a prophetess, except that she’d been widowed at a young age and had given herself to temple prayer and fasting ever since. She was most likely well into her 60’s or 70’s at the time of her encounter with the infant Messiah.
The question that I can’t get away from when I read of this woman’s devotion, is why? What was it that kept Anna coming back day after day, praying… fasting… trusting that what she was doing was not in vain, though it had been centuries since Malachi had uttered the final prophecy about the Christ to come? Perhaps in the beginning it was a way to heal her heart at her husband’s loss, but wouldn’t a year or two have been sufficient to assuage her grief? And surely any ill-placed religious zeal or efforts to earn God’s approval with her piety would have petered out long before as well.
The answer might be found in bit of this woman’s heritage. Anna’s father’s name was Phanuel, derived from the altar Jacob built after wrestling all night with an angel. The name meant I have seen God face to face and I have lived (Genesis 32:30). Because names held great significance in the Hebrew culture, family members would have known well the meaning behind that of their patriarch’s. I can just imagine Phanuel holding little Anna on his lap and telling her the story of their forefather Jacob; of how he wrestled with God all night, refusing to let go until he blessed him. Perhaps Phanuel related the tale to the entire family with great dramatic flair, unfolding the details of the interaction that was so intense it put Jacob’s hip out of joint, causing him to limp for the rest of his life.
I have seen God face to face...and I have lived.
I have seen God face to face and I have lived. The meaning behind Anna's father’s name could well have been a seed that was planted in her young heart, captivating her with the idea that God in heaven sometimes peeled back the veil and allowed mere mortals to encounter Him and be transformed in the process. Perhaps in her most quiet moments as a child, she’d pondered that thought and prayed that one day she too could experience a divine visitation. Then, when she lost her husband at such a young age, her grief may have become like oil thrown upon the flame of desire, igniting her passion to see God like never before.
But what had caused it to continue burning so brightly those tens of years later when Mary and Joseph arrived in the Temple that day? I believe it was because there in the shadow of the holy of holies, Anna had tasted of God’s presence and knew from experience that nothing else would ever satisfy her soul. Her life became a testimony of a paradox all Christ’s lovers eventually learn, which is that we can both hunger for the Bread of Life and be filled by His tender touch, all at the same time. This is, in fact, our very destiny – to be both satisfied and yet driven by desire for more of Him, until the day we too see Jesus face to face.
Her life became a testimony of a paradox all Christ’s lovers eventually learn, which is that we can both hunger for the Bread of Life and be filled by His tender touch, all at the same time.
So as we look at this unique moment in the Christmas narrative, let us remember the woman who wouldn’t let go, the saint whose hunger for God shaped her entire life. May her zeal inspire us with fresh faith once again that God is a rewarder of those who seek Him. And with each foretaste of glory He imparts, let us be reminded that our hunger for Him is a promise of a greater fulfillment yet to come.
Jesus used the words hunger and thirst to describe the condition of our souls without Him. Why are these metaphors so powerful? Have you ever considered that when you feel a dissatisfaction with the fact that God doesn’t seem as near as you’d like, that this is hunger to drive you to Him even more? That He will both fill you and leave you with hunger at the same time?
Write a note to God seeking to describe your own hunger level for Him.
Now write a prayer of affirmation based upon these words of Jesus: He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.
A CHRISTMAS ACTIVITY
As you snack on Christmas goodies and prepare for special meals – shopping, cooking etc. – think about the meaning of food and what Jesus wants it to teach you about His relationship with you.
CLICK HERE FOR A FAMILY VERSION OF THE CHRISTMAS DAY DEVOTIONAL
CLICK HERE FOR COLORING PAGE FOR FAMILY CHRISTMAS DEVOTIONAL.
READ: LUKE 2:22-34, LUKE 18:1-8, HEBREWS 11:6, ROMANS 8:24-25 (CLICK TO READ VERSES)
"Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."
When my best friend Beckee and I said that to each other growing up, we were dead serious about whatever it was we were promising--to keep a secret or stay friends forever or give the class casanova a collective cold shoulder. Cambridge dictionary tells us that people say this to show that what you have just said or promised is completely true or sincere.
Here's the thing about promises; they rely on trust, and as such, bind us together in a certain vulnerability. But what if the one making the promise is God? If we take a risk and trust Him, what happens when it feels as if He isn't coming through? When days and weeks and years pass, and still there is no sign that He is keeping His promise?
Simeon understood this feeling well. We know little about this man, other than he was righteous before God and devout in the eyes of men, and that at some point God had given him a promise that he would see the Messiah before he died. When Simeon shows up in the Christmas story, he is an old man who has walked with God for many years.
But what if the one making the promise is God? If we take a risk and trust Him, what happens when it feels as if He isn't coming through?
Simeon's faith reminds me of my favorite parable, the one about the widow who kept coming back and asking for help, until she got it. Jesus says He told us this story for one reason--to keep us from losing heart and giving up. He ends the parable with this powerful promise: Because God hears the cries of His children, He will make what is wrong, right; and He’ll do so speedily. (Of course you have to wonder whatspeedily means to the everlasting God who dwells outside of time). Then Jesus asks this poignant question: When the Son of Man returns, will He find faith on earth?
Faith, it turns out, is a precious commodity in God’s economy. Day in and day out, the God of the Universe searches the earth, looking for even the smallest whisper of of a heart that still trusts.
Simeon's encounter with the baby Jesus and his parents is, at heart, a story of unfailing faith. He never gave up on the promise, even in the face of impossible odds. Year after year after year, Simeon kept showing up, expecting something to happen. Where did Simeon get this kind of faith? Interestingly enough, the name Simeon comes from a root word that means to hear, which is highly appropriate, because Simeon was a man who listened for God’s voice. Faith, for each of us, is birthed in divine whispers and nourished through intimate communion with our Maker, a secret Simeon had clearly learned. As a result, the aging saint ended up in the right place at the right time for God to fulfill His long awaited promise.
Day in and day out, the God of the Universe searches the earth, looking for even the smallest whisper of of a heart that still trusts.
But, here's the thing. We don’t know how many days Simeon had listened and heard nothing, or how many nights he lay in bed wondering if God would ever come through. Still, he kept himself in that tender place, ever ready to hear, should the Almighty grant him a word. This, it seems to me, is at the very heart of the kind of faith that makes God smile – ears that are ever tuned to hear His voice, waiting patiently and listening expectantly for Him to speak, even if it might seem the silence has gone on far too long.
So in these final moments before Christmas, let us remember a man named Simeon who showed us how to live, by hanging on to God’s promises, listening to His voice and never letting go of the hope of reward. He trusted till the promise was fulfilled, and only then was he ready to leave this world, full of peace. Let us honor the memory of this great saint by listening ourselves for the tender voice of our Lord, so that we too may be granted the gift of persevering faith.
REFLECTHow does Simeon’s story speak to you? Is there a promise from God you struggle to hold onto? Do you listen to the Lord as you journey with Him? Come to Him today, offering yourself afresh, asking Him for fresh faith, perhaps for a word that might sustain you in the waiting.
RESPONDPonder the reality that faith brings God pleasure, so much so that He waits to reward those who seek Him (Hebrews 11:6). Read the following promises and write prayers of thanksgiving to Him in light of them:
Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised. Romans 4:20-21
For no matter how many promises God has made, they are "Yes" in Christ. And so through him the "Amen" is spoken by us to the glory of God. 2 Corinthians 1:20
For this is contained in Scripture: "BEHOLD, I LAY IN ZION A CHOICE STONE, A PRECIOUS CORNER stone, AND HE WHO BELIEVES IN HIM WILL NOT BE DISAPPOINTED." 1 Peter 2:6
A CHRISTMAS ACTIVITYMake today a day to practice listening to the Lord. In your moments of greatest busyness, plan a timeout where you simply stop, acknowledge God’s presence, ask Him to speak to whatever situation you face at that time, and then wait and listen. You might be surprised at all He has to say!
Contact Tricia here.
Tricia McCary Rhodes
Author of 7 books and a professor for Fuller Theological Seminary, Tricia specializes in helping others experience God’s presence through practicing soul-care.