Faith Venture

Luke’s first chapter packs so much information that it’s hard to comprehend at times. One of the many interesting stories is where Mary, newly pregnant yet unmarried, leaves her home town (and probably the questions on everyone’s minds) and visits her relative Elizabeth–an older woman who also has become miraculously pregnant.

I imagine they knew each other despite the difference in age. They probably had large family gatherings such as one I’m about to endure, er, enjoy, this weekend. So, Mary could find some friendship and understanding with Elizabeth.

Thing is, when Elizabeth sees Mary, she is filled with the Holy Spirit and spontaneously announces, Blessed are you among all women. Mary, probably still coming to grips with what’s happening to her and finding trouble articulating them, responds with a song.

We call the song the Magnificat. It is a revolutionary song. First Mary responds personally to the call of God. Then she describes God’s mighty works of humbling the proud, honoring the poor. Read it–I know that Catholics recite it, but take your time going through this song and meditate on the phrases. What would the world be like if these all came to pass in the world as we know it?

Are you like me in thinking that this is the one time Mary sang this song (just because Luke didn’t give us the melody, doesn’t mean it wasn’t sung)? Why then did someone remember it so well that they could tell Luke about it?

John Ortberg who is senior pastor at Menlo Park Presbyterian Church opened my eyes a little last week when he talked about this song as a sort of lullaby that Mary would sing to Jesus when he was little. Don’t forget, Jesus came into the world human. He was a little baby just like we were. Someone had to train him and bring him up. Jesus often used these themes in his teaching. It makes sense.

So it makes sense that we return to these words on occasion and ponder them–just as Mary pondered the miraculous ways of God.

Spiritually wise people for centuries have counseled the wisdom of living only in the present. Those who live  in the future are usually filled with anxiety about what might happen, while those who live in the past usually are either basking in faded glory or full of recrimination for things done or left undone. Only in the present are you fully alive. Only this moment counts.

On the other hand, the calendar of the Christian church calls this the season of advent. This is the time of year where we recreate the anticipation of the coming of the Messiah in our lives. The Jewish people lived in anticipation of the coming of the Messiah–the Savior of the nation–for hundreds of years. At this time of year, we try to recapture that anticipation. When will he come? What will he be like? Will he cast out all our enemies and set us free?

Trouble is, we already know the end of the story. When Jesus did arrive in Israel, few people recognized him. He was a shock. Read Acts carefully, and you’ll discover that the early preachers and teachers spent their time in the current Scriptures explaining how they prove Jesus as Messiah. But, we know that.

So, I wonder if that’s why we have substituted Santa Claus. We live Decembers in anticipation of Santa and what gifts he’ll bring. It’s hard to live in anticipation of Jesus and the gifts he brings.

Knowing the story and living it are different things. Jesus still breaks through into people’s lives. He does still cast out our enemies and set us free. We just don’t understand it–at least, until it happens to us.

It’s true that you should live your life in the present moment, neither regretting the past or anxious about the future. But even now we can live anticipating Jesus breaking through the barriers we’ve erected around our lives, conquering our foes, bringing healing, peace and freedom.

Paul calls us “offspring” of God during his Greek argument for God and Jesus in Athens. Jesus often referred to us as God’s children. Paul began his argument by saying God is the creator of the world. He created us so that we would search for Him. Then we can be considered His children.

So, I have been wondering what this means. Since I am a student of science, I naturally begin to think of DNA. As children of our human parents, we inherit DNA from both of our parents. There is still a lot we don’t know about how DNA works, but we know some things. We know that the DNA we inherit gives us our skin, hair and eye color. We know that the DNA we inherit predisposes us to certain diseases or strength against others. We know as children of our human parents, especially if raised by our parents, we inherit how we look, but we also learn how to speak and act and live.

I guess we need to figure out what God’s DNA equivalent is. What is it I inherit from God? What is it I learn from God? If I am living with God, then I should pick up His mannerisms just as I picked up mannerisms from my parents.

Or, did I toss away God’s inheritance like the young man that Jesus describes in Luke? And then realize what I’d lost and return to God begging for forgiveness and acceptance–not as a son, but as a servant?

The translation I am now using has Paul say that we are to “grope” for God. When I read that word, the picture is sort of like this scene–I’m a child; it’s dark, maybe I was hiding in a closet; I can’t find Dad, but I know he’s around and I need his security; I grope in the dark knowing he’s close but I can’t find him. Ah, but when I do, it brings such a relief. Sort of like God, who is right here beside me. But I can’t see Him. Then I grope for Him. And when we make contact, then I know all is well.

In the space of a few days, I went from the Christkindlmarkt in Nuremberg to the Christkindlmarket in Chicago. A few German women I knew remarked while walking through the market in Nuremberg, “I just love Christmas.” I guess most of who live in nations that have predominantly Christian traditions do. The inviting red and white striped tents (peppermint?) emanating aromas of food and drink or stuffed with beautiful decorations and gifts certainly lifts your spirits.

Thanksgiving is often one of the few real breaks I take. I read a couple of books. Only watched one football game, though (as a kid I watched many). Visited downtown Chicago.

One of our recent family traditions has been to view the windows at Marshall Fields in Chicago. It had exquisite window decorations that told a magical story. Since the takeover by corporate retail giant Macys, the charm has disappeared. First they cut the number of window displays. This year, the theme was wishing and the few displays showed characters wishing for brand names of items that could be found inside.

Well, I’m thankful for much in my life. Although there have been the inevitable struggles, I’m blessed in so many ways. And I wonder what God has in store for me for the last third of my life (or whatever, who knows?). But I’m not wishing. Wish doesn’t cut it. It’s more like anticipation. Sort of the meaning of advent–putting ourselves in the attitude of anticipating the birth of Jesus.

We know the story. That’s not the point. Our attitude is the point. I’m not wishing, or looking for more stuff. I’m waiting in anticipation of Jesus coming into my life. Thankful for what God has done and thankful for what He will do.