Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts

Thursday, November 10, 2022

The Music of Christmas, Day 4

 Anthem of Hope 

Read Luke 1:26-38

“May it be to me as you have said.” – Mary

 

 

Hope is a powerful thing. It keeps us going when we might otherwise give up. It inspires and challenges us to persevere in the face of great difficulties. It motivates us to strive for something better. And the absence of hope is despair, feeling that all hope is lost. 

 

When the angel Gabriel approached Mary, she was “greatly troubled.” (Luke 1:29) To encourage her, Gabriel said, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom, there will be no end." (Luke 1:30-33) 

 

Mary was going to have a baby. That’s good news! A baby who would be the Son of God, the Messiah—even better news! He would establish God’s never-ending kingdom. The best news of all! 

 

God had been silent for many years. Since Malachi laid down his pen four hundred years earlier, God’s people had experienced a complete drought of His word. The people of Israel were told that God would “rejoice over [them] with singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17) But instead, God remained completely silent for centuries … four centuries, in fact. Generations had been born and died without ever hearing God’s voice. It seemed the music had ended. Hope faded, and the silence became deafening.


But Gabriel came to Mary announcing that change was coming. The orchestra sat ready. An angel choir was warming up. God prepared to take center stage. Yet fear descended upon her rather than excitement or anticipation. 

 

Now, before we’re too hard on Mary, consider her perspective as a teenager living with her parents, engaged to be married, a good girl. She did her parents’ bidding and what was right. Never had she ignored her family's expectations or the tenets of her faith, especially when it came to her purity. She shouldn’t, no couldn’t, be pregnant. 

 

“How can this be?” she asked. The Bible doesn’t share Mary's innermost thoughts at that critical moment, but it doesn’t take much effort to imagine the many fears filling her mind. Shame and humiliation, as well as the mocking, judgment, and rejection that awaited her. The refusal of her family to believe her and perhaps the punishment that could result from Gabriel's “good” news.

 

Mary couldn’t hear the Good News Gabriel sang over the cacophony created by her own fear. That’s what fear does. It fills our heads and hearts with so much noise that it’s hard to hear anything else. Gabriel’s news did not, at first, bring Mary hope. Rather, it made her fearful. If Gabriel had promised the Messiah stepping down from the clouds in glory and might, her reaction surely would have been different. If only Gabriel had reported the name of some other more qualified, courageous, and happily married woman to bear the Son of God. Perhaps then his message might have been welcome news.

 

Isn’t that true for many of us? Consumed with our own fear and the difficulties of our circumstances, the song of hope sounds more like an ominous warning, the prelude to impending doom. We cannot understand the lyrics because we can’t get past the verse about surrender … giving something up, changing our ways, or laying it all down in order to give birth to hope. 

 

How is fear keeping you from hearing God’s anthem of hope this Advent season? How has the thought of change or personal sacrifice kept you from joining the song?

 

 

Son of the Most High,


I confess that, like Mary, I have let fear keep me from hearing, let alone singing, 

Your song of hope. Thank You for piercing the deafening silence of my sin. 

Give me the faith to let Your hope be born in me. I surrender to Your will. 

Let me join the chorus of people who sing Your praises. 
Amen.


The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.

Tuesday, November 8, 2022

The Music of Christmas, Day 6

 Metronome

Read Luke 1:5-7, 26-34
“For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end — it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay.” – the prophet Habakkuk


Have you ever found yourself anxiously waiting for an event or arrival? If what you anticipated was a welcomed occasion, it probably felt like time slowed or came to a complete stop. I remember when we were expecting our first child. Nine months had never felt so long. But even as we anxiously awaited our son, we understood the importance of waiting for all nine months. As much as we wanted to hold that little guy, we didn’t want him to arrive earlier than was safe. We waited with eager anticipation and hope.

 
Pregnancy is a good picture of hope … knowing that the time has not yet come but expecting that it will. The Apostle Paul described Jesus’ arrival the same way. He said, “When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman …” (Galatians 4:4). I don’t think Mary believed “the fullness of time” had come when the angel Gabriel announced her unexpected pregnancy. I’m guessing she viewed the entire circumstance as ill-timed and happening to the wrong girl. “It’s too early,” she probably thought. “I am not yet married, and still a virgin.” As young women sometimes do, Mary likely imagined, dreamed, and hoped for the day she would become a mother. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a baby. She simply didn’t want a baby so soon.


Meanwhile, in another town, Mary’s cousin Elizabeth was having exactly the opposite experience. She and her husband Zechariah tried for years to conceive. They prayed and waited, hoped and pined. But as days turned into years and years into decades, they gave up. Hope faded and finally died. Then an angel appeared to Zechariah and told him to break out the bassinette. A baby was coming — their long-awaited child. Elizabeth and Zechariah would become parents at last. “But we’re too old!” Zechariah protested, undoubtedly thinking God’s timing was off. 


From an earthly perspective, one baby came too soon and the other too late. A teenage pregnancy and a geriatric gestation. Hope seemed premature in one narrative and tragically delayed in the other. Though a child was the fulfillment of each family’s greatest hope, the timing was not what either imagined. Yet, according to God’s divine calendar, the time had come.


We live in a world of instant gratification and technological advancement. We can jump online at any hour, buy an item from virtually anywhere, and then have it delivered within hours or days. In fact, we’ve figured out voice-activated technology and we speak our will into existence. We are being conditioned to be increasingly impatient with anything and anyone who does not operate according to our schedule, including God.


Like Zechariah and Elizabeth, have you given up hope, believing time has run out? Perhaps hope has faded into despair. Do you trust God’s timing? “If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay.” (Habakkuk 2:3) 

 

Or maybe, like Mary, you have been confronted with the reality of a hope that seems premature. I once heard an old preacher say, “God is seldom early, but he is never late.” I understand what he meant, but the truth of the matter is that God is never early or late. His timing is right. Always. He who is outside of time and space –- who set our calendar and time itself into motion –- appoints the moment for the fulfillment of every promise.

 

 

God Who is Outside of Time,


Like Mary and Elizabeth, I am filled with expectations and assumptions about Your timing. Help me recognize Your sovereignty over time and calendars. Help me to let go of expectations even as I hold onto Your promises. May all my hope be in You and may I live with the confidence that You make all things beautiful in Your time.
Amen.


The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.