Unexpected Great Expectations

Samuel was ministering before the Lord, a boy wearing a linen ephod. His mother used to make for him a little robe and take it to him each year, when she went up with her husband to offer the yearly sacrifice. Then Eli would bless Elkanah and his wife, and say, “May the Lord repay you with children by this woman for the gift that she made to the Lord”; and then they would return to their home. And the Lord took note of Hannah; she conceived and bore three sons and two daughters. And the boy Samuel grew up in the presence of the Lord...Now the boy Samuel continued to grow both in stature and in favor with the Lord and with the people. (1 Samuel 2:18-21;26 NRSV).

Samuel is a very interesting character in the Old Testament and in the entire bible. I believe is the only child ever given straight to the Lord as a gift for a gift. Many of you are familiar with Samuel's story but for those who are not, Samuel's mother, Hannah, after years of being unable to have children, in desperation prayed at the alter where Eli was priest. In the temple she prayed, “O Lord of hosts, if only you will look on the misery of your servant, and remember me, and not forget your servant, but will give to your servant a male child, then I will set him before you as a nazirite until the day of his death.” As she continued praying, Eli watched and he could not hear her for she was praying silently so Eli thought she was drunk. Eli chastises her, “How long will you make a drunken spectacle of yourself? Put away your wine.” But Hannah answered, “No, my lord, I am a woman deeply troubled; I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord.” Eli answered, “Go in peace; the God of Israel grant the petition you have made to him.”

Time came and went until Hannah discovered she was with child. When Samuel was old enough and weaned, she took him to Eli, presented him, and said, “I am the woman who was standing here in your presence, praying to the Lord. For this child I prayed; and the Lord has granted me the petition I made to him. Therefore I have lent him to the Lord; as long as he lives, he is given to the Lord.” And there she left him for the Lord.

There are stories throughout the scriptures that take your breath away or cause you to ask a lot of questions that begin with “why”. Samuel's story is one of them and I imagine when his mother would visit with his brothers and sisters, someone would eventually ask, “Why is Samuel not coming home?” I am sure while at the market place someone would ask Hannah, “Tell me again where Samuel is?” I am sure the rumors of the reasons why Samuel was living in the temple with Eli were beyond speakable and occasionally demeaning. Not that I have any proof of this, it is just an assumption based on knowing people.

Samuel's life reminds me a lot of Charles Dickens' Great Expectations. In Great Expectations, a little boy named Pip helps save an escaped prisoner and as the years pass, Pip receives a great deal of wealth from a benevolent benefactor. The book explains that there were great expectations for Pip (at least what I recall. I must admit that I did not get past the first chapter) and I imagine there were great expectations for Samuel as well. After all, Eli's sons were not pleasant fellows and according to our scripture passage, the Lord has intended to kill the boys. So, it would seem that as Samuel grew up in the presence of the Lord and grew in stature and favor with both God and the people, there would indeed be some heavy great expectations.

Samuel's story fascinates me because he does not really get a choice regarding his life. Many of us chose our professions, even if we felt called to do them, we still made the choice but the right to choose has been removed from Samuel's hands. His mother made the choice for him before she even had conceived him and throughout his ministry to the people he faces a lot of unexpected great expectations. He is expected to intercede before God on behalf of the people. Eventually he is expected to choose a king for the people and when chosen king does not live up to expectations, he is expected to choose another to take the king's place. These expectations are not unreasonable for a prophet and judge but they are great. If we think voting is a heavy task, imagine being responsible for the souls of the people and choosing the person who will be the king, those are some heavy expectations. Yet, we will see Samuel handle those expectations with grace and dignity and remain in favor with the Lord.

When Lacy and I were going through premarital counseling we were asked to make clear reasonable expectations of one another. For example, I expected Lacy to do the dishes. Lacy expected me to take out the trash. Honest, clear and reasonable expectations. Of course, ten years later, we end up both doing the dishes and taking the trash over. Expectations are good things and it helps to know those expectations. For example, you expect me to prepare and preach a sermon on Sunday mornings. I expect you to get out of bed and attend church. Reasonable. You expect me to fly and I expect you to read my mind, unreasonable. There are reasonable expectations and there are unreasonable expectations. In fact, most marriages and relationships fall a part because of unreasonable expectations of the person. It is surprising to me that Samuel is able to grow both in stature and in favor of both God and the people; specifically the people due to our often unreasonable expectations of one another.

Each of us have been victims of unreasonable expectations; whether it is in our marriages, friendships, jobs, relationships with our children or our parents or other family members, we have all been victims of unreasonable expectations. The problem is that our egos feed into those expectations. In other words, we believe we can live up to those expectations or we desire that challenge to live into those expectations. The biggest unhealthy and unreasonable expectation is that one in which we all think that one person can fix all our problems. We think if I just marry that right person, befriend that right person, elect that right person, hire that right person, work for that right person, attend that right church with the right people all my problems will be solved. We place messianic expectations on people and when those people fail us, we are bewildered and cannot fathom how it happened.

Take a moment and think about expectations you place on yourself and others. Do an honest reflection on those expectations, are they reasonable or unreasonable? Some are, like the ones I mentioned before, are reasonable. It is reasonable and healthy to expect your children to pass their classes and possibly attend college if they wish. It is reasonable to expect them to get a job if they choose not to and reasonable to expect them to get a job after graduation from either high school or college. It is reasonable to expect our parents to love us, care for us, and provide for us in the best possible manner they can. It is reasonable to expect our spouses or significant others to love us unconditional. It is reasonable to expect certain things but sometimes we do expect too much and people crumble under those expectations. Often the most important things in our lives fail to live up to our expectations because our expectations were just too much for any poor soul or poor thing. In the words of Doc Holiday, “We're just too high strung.”

What does this have to do with Samuel growing up before the Lord and growing in stature and in favor with God and the people? From a psychoanalytical perspective it is a deep part of the Samuel story. Samuel grows to understand the unreasonable expectations of the Israelites. They expect to not encounter any set backs or problems because they worship the one true God. The problem is that God often seems absent or does not respond quickly or in fact does not live up to their expectations so they will turn to things of their world and will long to be just like everyone else. People are okay with being different, living differently, being chosen, until the journey takes an unexpected twist and it stops living up to the expectations they set in their mind. Somehow, through a majority of it, Samuel does not fall prey to their expectations. He is comfortable with his role and understands his role as priest, prophet, and judge of Israel. He cares deeply for the people but when the people desire something that is not good for them or not of God, he is not afraid to speak out, he is not afraid of his prophet role. Samuel would make a terrible politician and pastor.

Thus brings me to my final point. If I might be honest, I would like to admit to you that I believe New Year's Eve and the New Year to be the most overrated, over-hyped, unreasonable and unhealthy expected days of the year. Every year people write out their little resolutions and some stick to them very well while others are lucky if they make it past the first hour of the new year. We place a lot of pressure on two days of the year and those days fail us continually. It is like attending every Broadway showing of Les Miserables and being a little let down when you watch the new movie. The event, the day, the person, will never live up to so much hype and that much expectations. It is why many of us are continually disappointed every year, every two years, every four years, etc. We expect too much.

As I said, this does not mean we should not have any expectations, it means we should set reasonable expectations for one another, for others, and for our world. We need expectations that can be met and reached. We need expectations that do not place others or ourselves above God. We need expectations that are healthy and seek to move forward the kingdom of heaven and not our own desires. We need to learn and realize that the people beside us are human and humans are not heroes or gods. They are good, decent people who will do what they can for you, and will not let you down, as long as you do not have unreasonable expectations of them.  

An Unexpected Journey to Love and Joy

http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=223276765

We live in a violent and dark time. At least that is how it feels. After watching Mankind: The Story of All of Us, I am not really convince it is more violent or darker than it was in years past but it feels that is. Perhaps it is because our world has grown smaller. It feels that when there is joy and love in the air, something/someone comes along and wipes it away. It is as if our broken world does not really ever truly want to live in peace and with joy and love. We come up with reasons why our world is like this. We blame poor gun laws and poor healthcare. We blame politicians and the so called removal of God from society. We blame violent video games and movies. We blame dark forces that inhabit our world. We are good at finding reasons why the candles of hope, peace, joy, and love are continually snuffed out just when they start to burn brightest.

Yes, it is important during dark days to ask ourselves why and to question our culture as a whole. It is equally important to ask ourselves the very question we avoid: Am I a child of love and joy or am I child of the dark and dejected? Do I prefer to live in the light of the kingdom of heaven? Or do I prefer to live in the darkness of my world?

John writes that the light came into the world but the world refused it but the light could not be snuffed out. The light of Christ shined in the midst of the darkness for the world to see even when those who claimed to follow the light of God hung God's light on a wooden cross. The light of God came into our world and attempts to immediately have it removed from our world began before Jesus ever had the chance to tell a story, change water into wine, or preach of what the kingdom of heaven is like, the world, the powers that be, did their best to keep us in the dark. Now, in the not too distant future, we keep finding ways to snuff out that light.

The light of God has come into our world. It has shone in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it. Micah tells us that the messiah will come from Bethlehem, the littlest of clans, the runt of the litter. From the littlest of places our hope, our peace, our joy, our love will come into being, God will come to us from the most unexpected place. The light shines from the smallest of clans in Israel, it is a light that if it shone today would shine out of the smallest of houses, the smallest of ghettos, the smallest of towns, the smallest of villages. If the light were to shine today it would shine brightly from the most of unexpected places in the most unexpected ways. The light of God would shine and we would deny that light to shine in our own lives and in our own world. Why? Because it does not shine from our expected places of power and prestige.

The breaking in of the kingdom of heaven during this advent season shines the light of God so brightly that it exposes all we hide in darkness. We see the imperfections in our lives, we see the plank that sticks out of our eyes and so we turn to see the speck of saw dust in our neighbors. We hold up our mirrors that expose who we really are to deflect the light so it might shine on others. We deny our own sins so we can cast our stones and place the blame on the sins of the world. We blame “them” for snuffing out the light when we have refused to allow the light shine out of church basements, Sunday school classrooms, sanctuaries, and from our homes. It is us who claim to love the light of God which brings us hope, peace, joy, and love, who snuffs out this light. We snuff it out because it did not come as we expected. It did not come in the corrupted ways televangelists and politicians have said it would come. The light shined out of the ghetto of Bethlehem, surrounded by animals and filth, and the light shined brighter and brighter as lowly shepherds ran into town, as wise men traveled years, all to see this light of God. That night the light of God lit up the heavens and the kingdom of heaven broke through.

I am drawn to Micah's words, “And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his god. And they shall live secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth; and he shall be the one of peace” (Micah 5:4-5a). His words captivate my own self and force me to ask myself this question: Have I snuffed out the light of God? And the answer is yes.

Every time I have denied someone something to eat, something to drink, something to wear, a place to sleep, I have snuffed out the light of God. Every time I have denied a child an encounter with Jesus because they have chosen to meet him in their own way, I have snuffed out the light of God. Every time I choose to respond in anger and in violence, I snuff out the light of God. When I put my own selfish needs before others, I snuff out the light of God.

Likewise, as I ask myself that question, the church must ask if they have snuffed out the light of God. Have we, as followers of Christ, extinguished the light of God? Yes, we have. Every time we choose tradition and rituals over God's call, we extinguish the light of God. Every time we choose power over service, we extinguish the light of God. Every time we deny others a place at God's table, at God's manger, we extinguish the light of God. Yes, when we seek to take tweezers to remove the speck of saw dust from our neighbor's eye before even touching the plank in our own, we extinguish the light of God.

Fortunately, for us, by the grace of God, the light does not go out. The light from these candles burn in spite of us. Hope, peace, joy, and love find away into our dark world no matter how many times we try to put out the flames. The light of the kingdom of heaven breaks through our drapes and curtains and shines brightly even when we wish it would not. The light of the kingdom of heaven shines brightly even in places and at time we did not think it could.

The beauty of the scriptures is God's light finds a way to shine through the darkness. The poet tells us that God spoke light into darkness. The gospels tell us that the light of God was in the world and the darkness did not overcome it. The light of God's hope, peace, joy, and love never leaves us or escapes. Yes, we may extinguish these candles but the light they produce is too great to not appear elsewhere.

Yes, the light burns us because we have lived in the dark for so long. We have grown accustomed to believe that peace requires war and bloodshed. We have grown accustomed to mass shootings, and epidemics, and poverty, and hate, and oppression that we fear the light because the light that John the Baptist speaks to is a light that burns away all that keeps us from God. He is like a refiner's fire and a fuller's soap and the pain of being made whole, of having our world turned right side up, is too new, too amazing, too real, too majestic so we bury ourselves in our hobbit holes hoping the star of the angel does not appear at our door and beckon us to the manger; for we know we will be changed inside and out and we are accustomed to our nice warm beds. We prefer to walk the crooked paths with our crooked backs than to walk straight and upright.

Yes, the light of God burns us all. Our imperfections are exposed but the light also exposes something greater: God's eternal, majestic, amazing, unyielding, unrelenting, omnipresence, captivating love. The light of God shines God's greatest gift of love because love hopes in all things, believes in all things, bears all things, and endures all things. Our human love may fail one another but God's enduring love continues to light these advent candles in the midst of the darkness.

Yes, I must admit to you these past few weeks and month have slowly extinguished these candles in my own life. I have felt the tears of the world drain the hope, peace, joy, and love out of me; often it has been done by others who share my own faith. I can attest to you that the darkness can be a very powerful thing. It can encase you in a moment before you even realize that it has happened. We have all been there before in some way. We have all had those moments it feels like every ounce of our love and faith have been wiped away. In those moments, like the psalmist, we cry out, “Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel, you who lead Joseph like a flock! You who are enthroned upon the cherubim, shine forth before Ephraim and Benjamin and Manasseh. Stir up your might, and come to save us! Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved.” (Psalm 80:1-3 NRSV).

But then something happens. A kind word from a stranger; a note in the mailbox; a hug and a thank you; a laugh or a kiss; something happens and slowly the light begins to shine in the darkness. Slowly we see the light of the kingdom of heaven breakthrough. Slowly our eyes begin to adjust and we see laying in a manger the light of God, the Prince of Peace, the King of Kings, the messiah, God's hope, peace, joy, and love. Slowly our faith is renewed, our path made straight, and yes, we begin to desire to bath in the light of God. Slowly the light makes its way into our hearts and our lives and we are lifted on the wings of eagles. Yes, slowly we are healed by this light and thank God almighty we are.

Yes, thank God almighty for the light that shines in the darkness and for the darkness could not overcome it. Yes, thank God almighty for this unexpected journey filled with hope and to peace, joy, and love. Yes, we give thanks in the midst of darkness for the light that shines from the manger. Yes, thank God almighty that we, who have walked in darkness, have seen a great light. Yes, thank God almighty for the star which shined so brightly that dark night so long ago. Yes, thank God almighty for Christ's unending, unfailing love. Yes, thank God almighty for the manger.  

My Dearest Connor,

You are safe in your bed right now after a fun night of playing games and toys. At this time the only worry you have is the cold you are currently getting over. I am sad to say that you are going to grow up in much more violent world than I did. Perhaps it is a violent as it ever was but if the world has grown smaller and by the time you are my age the world will be closer than it is now. One day you may ask me why your mom and I ever thought having a child in this crazy world and I am not sure what I will say.

Your grandfather used to say, "My greatest hope is that my son is a better man than I was." Perhaps that will be my answer. Maybe I will look at you on that day and tell you that I tried to do my best to make this a better and more peaceful world. Maybe I will look at you on that day and tell you why the world is the way it is. Or maybe I will look at you on that day and tell you that you will make the world a better place.

No pressure.

Do not worry, the pressure is all on me and your mother. It will be up to us to provide you with enough love to know that this world can be a better place. We will work to show you that violence does not have to be a response to anger or frustration. We will work to show you that every person is a gift from God and deserving of our kindness and love. We will work to show you that Christ's love belongs to all people. We will work to set the example of all that we will work to show you.

My promise to you is to work towards a day where you will not have to fear walking out the door, going to school or to see a movie. My promise to you is to love you, your friends, your neighbors, and everyone you know as I love you. I make these promises to you because you represent the hope of Christ to our world. You and every child on this earth represent the best of us and I promise to do my best to protect that. I promise that you will be a better man than I ever could be.

Connor, you are a beautiful soul and every person you meet will be changed by your smile. Every person you meet will change you. My hope is that change will be for the better, always.

You and every child are our best hope for a better world. I promise to not let you down.

Love,

Dad

An Unexpected Journey Filled With Joy

I do not have to preach this Sunday! Our youth and children are performing their annual Christmas pageant so I do not have to preach which is fantastic and sad at the same time. I treasure the rare moments when someone else preaches or something like the pageant is going on so I do not have to worry about writing a sermon during the week. Plus, I think the congregation likes the break from hearing me ramble on and on about the kingdom of heaven. Sometimes we all need a time out from something we've been doing consistently for several months without pause. I am a little sad though.

I am sad because I had this wonderful theme running for advent entitled, An Unexpected Journey to the Manger. Each Sunday the theme of advent would carry us to the most unexpected place, the manger. There would fine hope, peace, joy, and love. It is of course heavily inspired by The Hobbit which I finally read the other day, well listened to. I am sad that I will miss out on continuing the series. It's a four part series with only three parts. What am I to do? What am I to do?

I know! I will write it on my blog, right here, right now and you can read it! You saw that coming didn't you? Eh...what can I say I am somewhat predictable. BOO! Bet you didn't expect that.

I have not really ever connected well with advent, it was not something I grew up knowing anything about because our church did not celebrate advent. In fact, around Christmas time, I do not recall anything related to advent or Christmas until Christmas Eve. I could very well be wrong, in fact I hope I am because my memory is not what it never was. Any place. Since I do not have any specific church related memories of advent, I could never connect to it when it started becoming a tradition in a couple of the churches I was on staff at. I enjoyed the season and the preparation but I did not get the joy I was hoping for. Christmas came and went and it was nice but it was never impactful. It was never meaningful.

Now that is not to say that I did not have meaningful Christmases outside of my church experience. In fact I had several meaningful Christmas gatherings with my family. I absolutely love being around family during Christmas, moreso than Thanksgiving (that's a whole other issue. Seriously, we get, what, two days to celebrate Thanksgiving and most of that time is spent cooking and watching football, which I like, but the holiday feels like a rest stop before the big holiday). I have very fond memories of Christmas trees, gifts (still have several that were given to me when I was a kid) but from a church related standpoint, I could never connect to the advent story.

That all changed when Lacy was pregnant and I learned Connor would be arriving around February 17th. For the first time ever during advent, I connected to the story. I found myself relating to Joseph and Mary. I connected to the four pieces of advent: hope, peace, joy, and love. I finally connected in a way that I could not connect before. I was able to relate to the story, to the expectant coming of a child, in every sense of the word because I was in the midst of expecting a child of my own and it has changed my view and appreciation for advent.

The words: hope, peace, joy, and love were no longer words. The prayers for hope, peace, joy, and love were no longer empty or vain prayers. They were real and I cannot express the joy that I experienced when I finally connected to them. What has connected you to the advent season? What draws you in during this season and compels you to want to be a better person? What about this time of year brings out the good in you?

Do you find joy during this season of waiting? Do you find the joy of waiting expectantly for this little Christ child to come? Are you finding joy in waiting for this Christ child to return?

Is your heart full of joy when you hear the words of Isaiah: "Surely God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid, for the Lord God is my strength and my might; he has become my salvation. With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation. And you will say in that day: Give thanks to the Lord, call on his name; make known his deeds among the nations; proclaim that his name is exalted. Sing praises to the Lord, for he has done gloriously; let this be known in all the earth. Shout aloud and sing for joy, O royal Zion, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel" (Isaiah 12:2-6)?

Do you rejoice when you hear the declaration of the Lord in Zephaniah: "The king of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst; you shall fear disaster no more...At that time I will bring you home, at that time when I gather you; for I will make you renowned and praised among all the peoples of the earth, when I restore your fortunes before your eyes, says the Lord." (Zephaniah 3:15b, 20)?

If not, what is it that is preventing you from finding your role in this epic story God is writing?

The joy in these scriptures is not just in the promises but in the story God is writing. It is a story in which we are all being given a part and it is a story that can bring joy to a joyless world if we work to make it so. Let us sing with a grateful heart, "Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel."

An Unexpected Journey to Peace

http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=222066406

Money stresses me out.

It really does. No matter how much I have, I feel like I do not have enough. I could be a millionaire and I would still stress over money. Of course the stress may be a little different but I do not find any peace when it comes to dealing with money. I could take every Dave Ramsey “class” offered at a variety of churches, buy every financial book available, and be the best money manager in the world and money would still stress me out. It is impossible for me to have any peace when it involves money.

I have been told that if you want peace then you need to prepare for war; and of course, to an extent, it is true. Peace cannot be achieved without engaging in some conflict. Conflict though does not always have to be an extreme such as war. But if you want peace you are going to have work for it and give up something to achieve it. It is interesting that we light the candle of peace today because Jesus himself said that he has not come to bring peace but a sword; that sword, not meaning war, would be a divider. He would divide friends, families, neighbors, and kingdoms; yet, Paul tells us that Christ unifies us and that Christ is our peace. So, is there peace with Christ? Is there peace in this coming manger?

Yes, yes there is. The issue though is that the peace of the kingdom of heaven comes at a cost. If we are to prepare the way of the Lord and if we are to make his paths straight, then we are going to have to give up something. We are going to have give up our pride and sense of control and desire for power. The way of the Lord is not these worldly things. The way of the Lord leads to peace. The way of the Lord fills every valley, lowers every mountain and hill, and straightens the crooked, and smooths the rough paths; and the salvation of God is seen by all. The way of the Lord leads to peace.

If we do not expect to find hope in a manger then we also do not expect to find peace laying there beside it. Our unexpected journey to the manger not only gives us hope but it will bring us peace. The way of the Lord that John preaches is a way of life. To prepare the Lord's way is to set our own paths straight and to find peace in our own lives. What is it that steals our peace away and replaces it with stress, anxiety, anger, or frustration? What is it that seeps into our lives giving us restless nights of sleep? The way of the Lord leads to peace if we are willing to work for it; if we are willing to lay down our own arms at the foot of the manger we could very well find the peace we are searching for.

This past week has been a struggle for me. There is so much angst in our world and society that results in children being shot because they didn't turn their music down, or they crossed the road at the wrong time, or they stay out late. It seemed on every news page there was a link to a story about a murder suicide, a fight between friends that escalated into shots being fired, sports fans jumping and beating fans of other teams, and babies being orphaned because of violence. I felt tired this week. I began to long for a time when there would be no guns, knives, or weapons of destruction of any kind. I longed for a time when no one would die as a result of a violent death. I longed for a time of no illnesses taking people's lives. I longed for a time when the wolf and the lamb would lay down beside one another. I longed for the peace Isaiah writes:

For I am about to create new heavens
and a new earth;
the former things shall not be remembered
or come to mind.
But be glad and rejoice for ever
in what I am creating;
for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy,
and its people as a delight.
I will rejoice in Jerusalem,
and delight in my people;
no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it,
or the cry of distress.
No more shall there be in it
an infant that lives but a few days,
or an old person who does not live out a lifetime
for one who dies at a hundred years will be considered a youth,
and one who falls short of a hundred will be considered accursed.
They shall build houses and inhabit them;
they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit.
They shall not build and another inhabit;
they shall not plant and another eat;
for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be,
and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands.
They shall not labor in vain,
or bear children for calamity;
for they shall be offspring blessed by the Lord—
and their descendants as well.
Before they call I will answer,
while they are yet speaking I will hear.
The wolf and the lamb shall feed together,
the lion shall eat straw like the ox;
but the serpent—its food shall be dust!
They shall not hurt or destroy
on all my holy mountain,
says the Lord. (Isaiah 65:17-25 NRSV)

I long for such peace. I long for such a time. I long for such a time when we our Christianity is not judged by where we eat or who we voted for or what we drive but how we love. I long for such a time on the holy mountain. I long for our unexpected journey to the manger to lead us to the still waters and lay down beside the Christ child and forever be at peace. I long to prepare the way of the Lord so that everyone's mountains and hills will be lowered, their valley filled, their rough and crooked paths made straight and smooth. I long for such a day and as I gaze up on the manger and the expectant child, I find myself filled with hope and with peace.

Yes, I believe a day is coming when there will be no more tears, sorrow, war, or famine. I believe that day is being ushered in before our very eyes. I believe such peace is found in the unexpected manger. So I wait patiently for his arrival. Until then, until that day comes, let us work together to lay down our weapons of violence and hate; our arms of pride, prejudice, and envy; our destructive choices that lead us to death and chaos. Though it will take some work, we can help bring forth the peace of the kingdom of heaven, if we try; if we start with our lives and if we choose to work with God, the peace in the manger does not have to be a far off reality. The peace of the manger can be in the right here and the right now because God is doing something amazing in the most unexpected of places and we are being called to join with him as he brings forth the kingdom of heaven.

An Unexpected Journey of Hope

The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up; and he shall execute justice and righteousness. In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. 

                                                                                                               Jeremiah 33:14-16

“Even now we simply do not expect

           to find a deity in a stable.

Somehow the setting is all wrong:

           the swaddling clothes too plain,

           the manger too common for the likes of a Savior,

           the straw inelegant,

           the animals, reeking and noisy,

           the whole scene too ordinary for our taste.

And the cast of characters is no better.

With the possible exception of the kings,

          who among them is fit for this night?

          The shepherds? Certainly to crude,

          the carpenter too rough,

          the girl too young.

And the baby!

Whoever expected a baby?

Whoever expected the advent of God in a helpless child?

Had the Messiah arrived in the blazing light of the glory

          of a legion of angels wielding golden swords,

          the whole world could have been conquered for Christ

                    right then and there

          and we in the church—to say nothing of the world!—

                    wouldn't have so much trouble today.

Even now we simply do not expect

          to face the world armed with love.”

                                     Unexpected by Ann Weems

I imagine when the people read Jeremiah's prophetic words from the Lord, “In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land” they were not thinking about a baby in a manger. I imagine they were thinking of a great and glorious king on a gallant white steed, riding in from the east with the sun gleaming off his long blonde locks, waving a sword and an army of thousands behind him. At least when I hear of a Branch springing up and saving Judah and Jerusalem living in safety, that is what I imagine. Of course I grew up on He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, so that may have a small influence. Still, I seriously doubt the Israelites expected the coming Branch, the expectant Messiah to show up in a manger, as a baby.

The majesty of this coming Branch, the coming of the Lord, the coming of the Messiah, is that our wait takes us on an unexpected journey to the manger. The hope that Jeremiah declares from the Lord is a hope that we find in the midst of animals and hay. The hope is not some great warrior king but a little baby, asleep on the hay; that is the majestic magic of the Advent and Christmas story. We witness the breaking in of the kingdom of heaven, the springing of the Branch that Jeremiah promised, taking place in the most unexpected place. How beautiful is that? How majestic is that?

Hope comes in all forms. The problem is we often look for it in the greatest of forms. We look for it in people with money, power, prestige, or influence. We look for hope in expected ways. Often we miss the hope that is right before eyes in the simplest forms because we think, “God's great hope cannot be in such a thing.” But there it is, with every flower that blooms in the spring, with every child's laugh, with every wedding, funeral, or birthday, with every song that is sung, the branch of hope springs forth and shines its light upon our faces.

The kingdom of heaven gives us hope because we witness the majesty of God's kingdom in the tiniest of places, in a manger. Our search for hope takes us on adventure that leads us to an unexpected place and that hope is something that transforms our lives. When we encounter this hope, we do not return home the same. The beauty of the Advent story is this expectation of the coming Messiah. We wait with hope that he will arrive, bringing with him the kingdom of heaven. We wait expectantly and we are being taught to wait with patience. The Advent story gives way to the Christmas story and our waiting is over. There in the strangest of places, we encounter God's greatest gift, God's greatest hope, lying in a manger. Once we encounter that hope, once we see the baby, our lives are changed forever. The Branch that springs up is not a Branch of the status quo. It is a Branch that is changes the world, it brings righteousness, saving Judah and Jerusalem will live in safety. A Branch that carries the Lord's righteousness is a Branch that will change any who encounter it. Even the shepherds were changed by the encounter with the baby Christ. How beautiful is their singing? How majestic is their encounter?

Everything about the Advent and Christmas story is unexpected. How it all comes about, how it all plays out is unexpected. The kings who arrive a few years later are about the only part of the story we would expect. You would expect other kings to arrive and pay homage to another king. Everything else from the shepherds to the manger to even the slaughtering of the little ones a few years later is unexpected. We may be expecting this Branch to spring up but we are not expecting it to spring up in a manger.

I imagine the Branch breaking through the paved roads of Jerusalem and as people come into the great city they are taken back at this Branch, this tree, growing in the midst of the rubble and stone. The hope of this Branch feels magical to me. It makes Advent feel magical because we are waiting for this branch to spring up in the most unexpected way. I think, for many of us, we have lost the magic of this season. We get caught up in buying presents, decorating trees, arguing with stores who tell us to have a “Happy Holiday” instead of a “Merry Christmas.” We get up in the busyness of the season we come to church and we're not expecting much. Sure we look forward to our traditions and such but do they still feel as magical as they once did? Do the stories of Advent and Christmas still bring about the feeling of hope as they did when we were young? Do we still sit in front of our lit trees and feel the sense of awe and wonder we did decades before? Do we expect to find the hope of the Christ child in the unexpected manger?

Perhaps that is the real beauty of this Advent season in the church. It is the deliberate purpose of slowing down on a holy day to be mesmerized by a very holy moment. The beauty is found in the newness of the waiting and the expecting and the overwhelming beauty of God's love found in a manger surrounded by animals and shepherds. I hope we will slow down in the midst of this stressful month and fix our eyes on the unexpected hope found in a manger.