We are officially in the Advent season. I love that this is the traditional beginning of the Church’s year–the time we mark, waiting expectantly for Jesus. Living as we do so long after Him, we obviously know that He came…but we continue to pause and reflect and await Him, because we also know He is still coming.

And we pause and reflect and await Him just as Christians have been doing since His first coming. That, too, is a thing of beauty.

For the last two years, my family has been doing a daily devotional together that aims to bring together Christians from all walks of life, from all denominations, through the liturgy. One of the things the authors said in the introduction that had a huge impact on me was that the “magic” of the liturgy is that it links us, first, to Christians all around the world–because on this same day, Christians everywhere are praying this same prayer. Reading this same Scripture. Meditating on these same Truths. And that second, it links to every other Christian throughout history who has done or will do the same.

I don’t know about you, but as a historical writer and lover of history in general, this makes me go, “Whoa.” That’s just amazing, isn’t it? We know that the Church is to be one body…but I’d never paused to think of it as one eternal body. That, however, is exactly what it is–and what is must be, because we are partaking continually of Christ Himself, who we know is eternal.

Our brothers and sister are not just the men and woman beside us in the pews. They’re not just the ones celebrating Christ and worshiping him down the street or across town or even elsewhere in our country. They aren’t even just the Christians around the world who are being persecuted or martyred or enslaved. They are the people all throughout time who have loved the same Savior. Who have waited in ripe expectation for Him to come again. Who have believed in Him for healings, for intercession, for mercy, for grace.

What kind of Savior is this? What kind of king?

Other men have saved people–physically, yes. Other men have contributed to society in ways that are lasting. Other men have sacrificed themselves for a cause. But no other savior has given everything and still promised more, still promised eternity.

Other kings have reigned, have built kingdoms, have created systems of justice that inspire us still today. But no other King has ever created a kingdom incapable of crumbling, incapable of being torn apart. Christ is the Eternal King. And we, my friends, are His eternal co-heirs. We and every Christian who has come before. We and every Christian who will come after.

This year, I wait with an eager heart. I will celebrate Him with expectation as we count down the days until He first came. I will pray, standing ever amazed that others are praying the same prayer, praying their own prayer, praying His prayer right along with me. I will rejoice, knowing I am part of something so much bigger, so much longer, so much more than any earthly thing, any earthly king could ever be.

He is the coming and eternal One. And we have been given the most amazing gift in the world–we get to be His people.

Those who are wise shall shine
Like the brightness of the firmament,
And those who turn many to righteousness
Like the stars forever and ever.
~ Daniel 12:3

Having not grown up in churches that strictly follow the Liturgy, I didn’t realize until recently that the Christian year actually begins with Advent–but how appropriate is it that we mark all our time by the coming of Christ? I love the beauty of this. And so, as this year draws to a close, I wanted to actually look at the liturgical reading for the week, quoted above. The old year ends and the new year begins with a focus on Christ’s return, before we shift our focus toward His first coming.

And that verse from Daniel really spoke to me this week. It’s talking about the final judgment, when the dead shall rise into eternity, some to punishment and some to glory. Now read those words again. Those who are wise shall shine … those who turn many to righteousness like the stars forever and ever.

Does that speak to you like it does to me? Shine like the stars. That’s what we’re called to do–to be wise, to turn many to righteousness. This, my friends, whatever our jobs or our vocations, is our ultimate calling. We should be pointing others, always, to Him. We should be leading them to righteousness. Our words, our actions, our lives should be a testimony.

As Christians, we never get a day off. It isn’t just that people are always watching (though of course they are). It’s that God is always watching. We know this, of course, but I think far too often we hide behind the adage of “Well, I’m only human.” Obviously this is true, and we’re going to falter and stumble and get in bad moods and snap at people and grumble. But then what? Do we say, “Who cares, we all do it? I’m only human.”? Or do we apologize and seek to repair any damage we’ve done? Do we make people say, “Well if they’re a Christian, then no thanks” or do we lead them to Him?

As the Christmas season approaches, we’re all going to see stars everywhere–decorations, lights, on top of our trees. Those stars are a reminder of the one that led the wise men to Christ…but they should also be a reminder of how we are to lead others to Him today too.

May we be wise, may we guide people in righteousness. My friends, may we shine like the stars.

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son…”
~ John 3:16

It’s the most memorized verse of the Bible. One we know so well and see so often that we probably don’t really pause to think about it anymore. But the other week in church, it was one of the verses our speaker highlighted in his message of God’s love…and it followed a praise and worship chorus that reminded us of how He is worthy of our efforts, worthy of our sacrifices, worthy of anything we can do for Him. And it got me thinking.

How amazing is it that God loves us this much? That Christ loves us so much He was willing to do this for us? Let’s look at what He sacrificed:

• His home in heaven–He gave up a seat at the right hand of the Father to come to earth and walk in misery for us. His entire earthly existence was overshadowed by the cross. But He did it. For you. For me.
• A life of ease on earth–look at most ancient mythologies, and you’ll see gods who were selfish and demi-gods who used their divine blood to achieve fame and fortune. But Jesus defies all that. He came to live a humble life, not a kingly one.
• Daily comforts–not only was he born to modest circumstances, He gave up even those things in order to preach and teach about the Kingdom of God. He had no place to lay His head. No guarantee of the next meal. No nice house or fancy car–er, horse or even donkey–no savings account or college fund or good insurance program.
• And of course, His LIFE.

He did this because He loves us. The Father asked it of Him because He loves us. They PROVED their love for us in the most spectacular way imaginable–by giving up everything. Absolutely everything.

And what do they ask of us? A portion. A percent. Those are the sacrifices prescribed in the Old Testament. Then in the new, Jesus asks us to make what is strangely the hardest sacrifice of all: He asks us to give up our sins. He asks us to give up what’s coming between us and the Father.

Have you ever really paused to think about that? Let me say it again. He asks us to give up our sins. They are what’s coming between us and the Father. Give up our greed. Give up our hatred. Give up our bitterness. He asks us to give up our biases and our prejudices and our judgments. He asks us to give up the idols we’ve built with our own two hands, the things we spend more time worrying about and thinking about (aka worshipping) than we spend on Him. He asks us to sacrifice the bad so that we can grab hold of the Good with both hands.

And yet we struggle with that. So, so much. Just like the Israelites of old struggled to stay free of the snarls of idolatry. Why? Because idols offer us pleasure in the short term. A comfortable life. An exciting “romantic” encounter. Wealth. Fun.

The Lord teaches us what happens in the long term, of course. But as a race, humanity is short-sighted. Always have been and still are. That, too, is what He asks to give up–our own limited vision. He asks us to give up the illusion of being in control.

He asks us to trust Him instead. To admit that He sees what we can’t. That He knows the Good, not just the pleasant.

That thought really humbled me as I sat in church, thinking about how He gave up glory for us…yet we’re unwilling to give up sin for Him. He loves us so much that He gave us life…we love Him so poorly that we won’t relinquish our idols.

I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again: it’s true that He doesn’t ask all of us to give up everything. But He DOES ask all of us to give up something–namely, whatever we value above Him. He asks us to sacrifice those idols. Are we willing?