Welcome 2008

I was looking at my Advent wreath tonight and feeling a bit sorry that the four weekly candles were burning out. Only the rose one, representing the joy of the fourth Sunday, is left as I write this, and it too is burning low. The remains of the day, if you will.

My eyes moved to the larger white pillar candle in the center, representing the birth of Jesus Christ and lit on Christmas Day. I comforted myself with the reminder that, since I purposely bought a fresh-smelling, non-holiday-scented candle, I can still enjoy it after I dismantle my wreath.

Theologically that makes all the sense in the world. Advent is a joyous time, but that joy gives way to the greater joy - that of the realization of our hopes, the birth and life of Jesus the Messiah, Emmanuel, God With Us, who saved us from our sins through His death and resurrection. Advent is sweet, but the realized presence of God is meant to bring overwhelming joy. The shadow is swallowed up by the reality - little candles burn down and a much greater Light rises up - one that will stay with us.

On January 6th, I'll get a little boost with my favorite Church and European holiday - Epiphany, celebrating the arrival of the Three Wise Men to pay homage to the infant Jesus. I discovered what fun this holiday could be while living in Switzerland. I was at the neighborhood bakery when I saw they were selling "couronne" bread - in the shape of a crown, with a surprise baked and hidden inside. When I bought mine, they gave me a golden paper crown to wear at home too.

I then went off to the Lausanne central post office, crown sticking out of my bag. The postal clerk was delighted to see I had this with me; she dashed off to bring back a colleague, a guy in his 30's who was waltzing humourously around work with his crown on. "Voila!" she said, very satisfied with herself, as if she'd just identified two certifiable but enjoyable nut cases, "He's like you!" Not that I was waltzing around in public with a paper crown on or anything. I told you, it was just sticking out of my bag, okay?

That night at home I dug through my couronne bread with all-out curiosity about what the "surprise" would be. I was not disappointed: a tiny ceramic Jesus, riding on the donkey of His triumphal entry, reminding me of the next major Christian holiday to come. I still have it, even though, tragically, it dropped once and the head of my Lord broke off and rolled under the fridge or something. I'd be delighted to get another one, if I just knew where to look!

So when I think about Christmas ending, I think about Epiphany, which reminds me of that little figurine in the bread, which points me to Easter. There's something to this Church calendar stuff, you know. It keeps us living the life of Christ, all year long.

On Sunday at church this week, I had the joy of singing the spiritual, "Give Me Jesus", like I did last year, but this time as a duet with my lifelong friend, Marni. We also had a time of open sharing in the service. I took the opportunity to declare to my church family the healing God had given me this past summer in my long-awaited return to Switzerland. I was inspired by the sermon that day on Psalm 30, which the Lord had previously given me in the dead of a summer night, as I went to bed in Nyon, the very home town of my persecuting former boss. Two days after reading that Psalm and knowing God was speaking through it about my life there, someone read it for us again at a church prayer gathering, moving me to weeping and grateful prayer aloud in the same living room I'd sat in seven years earlier. I know well that when God does something for you, it is mandatory to give Him praise in the presence of the congregation. Perhaps that's one reason why I keep writing this personal blog... His every vindication is that much sweeter when I'm not the only one watching for it.

I love the LORD, for He heard my voice;
He heard my cry for mercy.
I will fulfill my vows to the LORD
in the presence of all his people,
in the courts of the house of the LORD—
in your midst, O Jerusalem.
Praise the LORD.
~ Psalm 116

Psalm 30: Thanksgiving for Deliverance from Death.

A Psalm; a Song at the Dedication of the House. A Psalm of David.

I will extol You, O LORD, for You have lifted me up,
And have not let my enemies rejoice over me.
O LORD my God,
I cried to You for help, and You healed me.
O LORD, You have brought up my soul from Sheol;
You have kept me alive, that I would not go down to the pit.
Sing praise to the LORD, you His godly ones,
And give thanks to His holy name.
For His anger is but for a moment,
His favor is for a lifetime;
Weeping may last for the night,
But a shout of joy comes in the morning.
Now as for me, I said in my prosperity,
"I will never be moved;
O LORD, by Your favor You have made my mountain to stand strong."
Then You hid Your face, I was dismayed.
To You, O LORD, I called,
And to the Lord I made supplication:
"What profit is there in my blood, if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise You? Will it declare Your faithfulness?
"Hear, O LORD, and be gracious to me;
O LORD, be my helper."
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
You have loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness,
That my soul may sing praise to You and not be silent
O LORD my God, I will give thanks to You forever.

These two quotes are helpful to me now as I wait in a state of emptiness yet anticipation for God to move mightily on my behalf in the coming year:

"Humility is simply acknowledging the truth of one's position as creature
and yielding to God His place."
Andrew Murray ~ Humility: The Journey Toward Holiness, p. 17.

"When God intends to fill a soul, He first makes it empty.
When he intends to enrich a soul, He first makes it poor.
When He intends to exalt a soul,
He first makes it sensible to its own miseries, wants and nothingness."
John Flavel, English Puritan