New Thoughts (8/22/04-8/27/04)
Shepherds around Bethlehem: workers on the very edges of the wilderness, pushed out to the fringes of their own society. Once, almost the whole nation of Israel had been shepherds. Now, those few who continued to labor amongst the sheep were hardly deemed worth one's consideration. Theirs was the task of the women, the slaves, the hirelings. Nobody with any self respect would allow himself to live in that fashion. The tent of the shepherd, once a sign of life in the desert, now was a sign of the desert itself, a sign of desolation and lack.
Even with the rise of David, the shepherd king, opinion of shepherds in general had not been much changed. Certainly, Israel was proud of David, but he was an exceptional man, hardly the typical shepherd. David was given the labor because he was the least of his family, the youngest, and therefore, perhaps, the one with the least prospects. How God had used that time in the fields to shape this young man, though! We do not, I think, sense the lowness of his beginnings. We do not comprehend fully just how bleak was the future laid out for him before God decided to change the picture. David himself does not appear to have thought his present or his future bleak, but took opportunity amidst the sheep to praise his God. He may not have found cause for concern in his lot, yet he was clearly conscious of what the public at large thought of shepherds. It was an awareness he would carry with him throughout his reign over Israel, and it was this character-shaping aspect of the labors that God turned so fully to David's advantage.
So many take to the throne sensing only the halls of power, the ability to command as one will. No great amount of thought is given to those who are ruled, other than how to cause them to comply. David, however, was not power hungry. He was a shepherd, with a shepherd's temperament. He knew how to defend his charges, and he also knew how to care for them. He knew that to push his charges harder than they could tolerate would do more harm than any enemy could. He knew the propensity of his people to stray, and he knew the importance of bringing them back, every last one. He knew accountability. The shepherd was responsible for ever sheep in his flock. Should one be lost, it would be his to account for.
"I have not lost one," Jesus would say at the end of his earthly days (Jn 18:9). He can still say that today. He has not lost a one of those with whom God was pleased to make peace. Great is His faithfulness! David, the shepherd king, might have improved the perception of the shepherd somewhat. Around Bethlehem, birthplace of the king, one might expect that they were given at least a bit higher regard than perhaps in Jerusalem. In Jerusalem, they had their own gate, though I don't think it was an honor particularly. More likely, it was to keep them out of the way of more important traffic. Fitting, at any rate, that the birthplace of the shepherd king would also be the birthplace of the Great Shepherd, the King of kings! And fitting, also, that the announcement came first to those with whom he shared most his characteristic compassion.
Jesus, I cannot let this thought pass without singing Your praises! Truly, You have proven Yourself the Great Shepherd. You have willingly taken upon Yourself the responsibility for every one of those whom God has called 'child.' So faithfully You watch over us! So faithfully You defend us against every attack that seeks to slay us. So faithfully You cry out warning that we may seek the security of Your protection when troubles loom. What can take us from You? There is nothing! The greatest storm cannot sweep us from Your caring arms. The most dire attacks of the enemy cannot tear us from Your grip. Yes, there may come persecutions in this life - indeed, there will come persecutions in this life, but these cannot do more than prick the flesh. In Your strength we will hold fast. By the power of the Holy Spirit imparted to us at Your behest, we will stand and stand some more! Oh, Holy Christ! Thank You that You have taken charge over me! You have called me Your own, and that I am. Thank You, big Brother! Thank You, my King, for taking up my protection. Thank You, Mighty Warrior, for being my strong defense in times of trial! Thank You, Wonderful Counselor, for being my good sense when good sense has fled me.
There is one other aspect of the shepherd I would do well to consider, and it is that aspect which is brought to the fore in the present narrative. Shepherds must be watchful, extremely watchful, for their sheep are not. The sheep are intent on one thing, and one thing only. Their eyes are on that next mouthful of grass, and nothing much beyond that catches their attention. If the grass is good, they would probably chew their way right up to the very lap of danger. The shepherd must keep watch over such as these. He must remain attentive to every nuance of his surroundings, lest trouble take his charges unaware.
Again, I am put in mind of my Shepherd, He who neither slumbers nor sleeps! He is ever watching over me, calling me back when I stray, leaping in to guard when the wolves of sin would shred me. Oh, blessed Defender! All that I am, my very being, I owe to You and You alone! Because of You I am still standing, in spite of myself, and in spite of those who would gladly destroy me simply because I am Yours.
This great watchfulness, this perpetual high alert, only became more intense in the night. We have all, I suppose, at some time or another found ourselves alone in the dark. Perhaps it was in the confines of our own homes. Even then, awakened in the night, we know the effect of heightened senses. Every little sound, every least glimmer of light signals warnings of danger to our brains, until we have discerned their source in full, and then laughed at our own overwrought imaginations when we discover their source. The shepherd knows this heightened state, but without that relief of finding all was just imagination. He sits in a darkness more wild, amidst dangers more real, and he knows himself the only defense between those he guards and those that would tear them to pieces. His every sense is tuned to the sounds of the night around him. The least snap of a twig, the slightest rustling of the grass will have him on his feet with weapon in hand, for he knows that his enemy roams the night. His enemy is stealthy, hoping to catch him off guard, and knowing this, he watches all the more carefully.
This, Luke records, is what was happening outside Bethlehem that night. A very few shepherds remained awake. It was the night watch, the time of tension, the time of vigilance. How strange it seems that God should choose this moment in this place amongst these people to announce the King! Bethlehem: least of the cities of the least of tribes in Israel. Indeed, the tribe of Benjamin had long since been absorbed into Judah, long even before David had been born. And in this town on the outskirts of the desert, there were perhaps none meaner than the shepherds who did not even dwell in town, but remained in their tents among the surrounding hills. Yet, this was not sufficiently obscure for God's purposes. The word was not delivered to every shepherd in the hills, only to those few on the night watch.
There was a message for Israel in this announcement. The nation had come to think itself secure simply because it was Israel, the chosen nation of God. They had been duped into believing that circumcision, a mark made at birth before they could even exercise their own will in the matter, was sufficient to see to their security. They had come to trust in the building again, forgetting the lessons of Shiloh and Jerusalem before. Here, then, is the symbolic image of this passage. It was not even to all the shepherds that Messiah had come. Many of the shepherds of Israel, those responsible for the spiritual well-being of the nation, had ceased to pursue their profession properly. There was no concern for their charges any longer, no accountability, no sense of responsibility for the apostasy around them. Their only concern was their own food, their own power, their own grandeur. Yet, there was that remnant, the faithful few who were keeping the night watch. It had been a long, dark time for Israel and only a very few held fast to faith, only a very few still knew in their souls that God remained in heaven and the Messiah He had promised would come. It was to these alone that Messiah was announced.
What of us? It can seem, certainly, that we are left watching in the night. Certainly, the world around is growing dark as he sins of the sinful grow ever worse. Certainly, we have reports constantly of wolves discovered amongst the shepherds of faith. The perverseness of sin has infiltrated the very ranks of those whose job it is to warn mankind of that sin! When the watchman is bound to the enemy, who will warn the sheep? Yet, there is a remnant, ever and always there is a remnant! Because of God's own goodness, His own faithfulness, and His own power, there are those who remain awake and alert, who see the wolves for what they are and strike them down.
God, I thank You yet again that You have kept faithful watchmen amongst Your people. I thank You that, in spite of the deceivers that have populated the pulpits of the land, who spread lies about You in hopes of justifying their own sins, there remain those whom You have truly called, those whose trust is in You, whose standard of righteousness is in You, and who continue to serve You faithfully and truthfully. Thank You, Holy Father, for leaving amongst us those who still cry out warning, who call the situation as it is, even if we might be offended to hear it! Thank You, Lord, that there remain preachers who will preach fearlessly, who will proclaim the Truth, rather than pander to desire!
Yet, the question remains: what of us? What of me? Am I keeping the night watch? Am I remaining on the alert against any creeping sin that might seek to sneak into my fold? Am I compassionate to those in my charge, or am I simply impressed with being in charge? When the Chief Shepherd comes, will He be pleased with the service I have given? Keeping the night watch: it's a lonely place. It is a place which does not allow relaxing. It is a place that demands full attention.
Lord, this phrase caught my attention the moment I saw it. You have a purpose in that phrase. You call us to keep watch for You, to anxiously await Your return. That is part of it, but that is not the part You are pointing me towards right now. It's the issue of guard duty. Keeping watch against the creeping sins that would invade this little fold of mine. Lord God! I cannot even claim to have fully warded off my own sinful ways and yet You have called me to stand watch over these two in my charge! Am I doing any better at it than once I did? I know, my King, that only by You can I even hope to do it, and I know it is to You that I shall give account at the end. I know this, and knowing it, I am forced upon Your mercy. Teach me, Teacher, to know mercy in the face of sinfulness. Teach me, Compassion, to know compassion for those who are, after all, just like me. Work upon me, my Shepherd, that I might serve as You serve, guard as You guard, love as You love. When You return, sweet Jesus, may I say as You said, "I have lost none of those You gave me charge of!"
The night-watch is a place of attentiveness, but it can also be a place of great loneliness. Though others may watch the night as well, we feel that we stand alone. We are isolated. There is none between the enemy and our charges save us alone. This is the sensation of the night-watchman. All is threat. All is nerves steeled for immediate action. These are hours spent like a lion crouched for the pounce, every fiber of one's being tuned for that instant of action, should the instant come. But, oh! The loneliness! Where is one we can call upon should trouble come? Where is the one we can speak to who can strengthen our wavering confidence as the sounds of the night creep in upon us? Who can we turn to, should we falter?
Thanks be to God, there is One upon Whom we can call in the darkness of our watch! Elihu lay this condemnation upon the peoples of the land as he berated Job: "No one says, 'Where is my God, my Maker? Where is He who gives songs in the night?'" (Job 35:10). There is One we can call to our side in the darkest night, and He will come stand beside us. He will stand before us, our shield against the enemy. Indeed, He comes to our side, and He brings us that which our shaking resolve needs, a song in the night! Here is a wondrous truth! He gives us songs in the night. When all around us is unseen threat, a peril felt but not yet perceived, nerves might well give way. But, He brings a tonic for our nerves, songs in the night, words of confidence, reminders of His very present help in time of need! Here is strength for the night-watch! Here is power for the powerless. When threats real and imagined are crowded around us, what wonderful power there is in singing. "Our God is an awesome God!" I shall dread no enemy, for the LORD is in my midst, great and awesome in power (Dt 7:21). He is God of gods, Lord of lords, the awesome God of justice (Dt 10:17), who stands with me. He preserves His covenant, and His love for those who love Him is steadfast (Ne 1:5). "Who is like unto Thee? Who compares to Your majestic holiness, Your awesome praiseworthiness, the wonders You alone work? At the merest move of Your right hand, they were swallowed by the very earth itself! Yet, in Your love You have redeemed this people, and in Your strength, You have guided them to Your own Holy Home! Nations tremble at word of You! Fear grips them, and all Your enemies melt away from Your presence." (Ex 15:11-15). When all is doubt and worry, what wonderful words these are to hear! This is the wisdom of the night-watch, to sing always those songs He gives, that we may remain steadfast beside our Companion, our Hero, our Lord who stands with us. Indeed, if God is for us, who can stand against us (Ro 8:31)?
During that final night in Gethsemene, our Lord and Savior experienced His own night-watch. There with Him were the sheep we have come to know as the apostles. These were His charges, and He, the chief Shepherd, would give account to His Father who owned the sheep should any of them be lost. There in the garden He had established their fold, and He had set Himself in the gate. Yet, good watchman that He is, He knew what was coming. He sensed the signs of approaching threat, and He knew His sheep were not capable of defending themselves. He knew also what was to happen to Himself, and what this would do to these poor sheep of His. He sought out the Giver of night songs, but the loneliness of His position was unrelieved. The concern for what must come was unrelieved. He would cry out to his companions, "I am grieved, I feel I am dying! Come, keep watch with Me!" (Mt 26:38). This was the loneliness of the night-watch. It was an expression of that weakness felt by every man who ever stood that watch alone, the sense of an utter inability to stand against what might attack the fold under cover of darkness. Yet, He was not alone, and He knew it. Though His words were directed to His earthly companions, it was His Father who came and stood watch with Him, and strengthened Him to face the worst attack, what would be for a time a lethal attack, by His enemy and theirs.
What was it, in that moment, that gave Him strength? What song had He been given to sing in the midst of that dark night? I think we hear it in the prayer He offered up. As He spoke to His Father, He spoke this wonderful truth, "I was keeping them which You gave Me. I guarded them and not one of them perished" (Jn 17:12). He spoke this in the past tense, yet it held true in the present and the future tense as well. "I keep them You give Me, and I will keep them, and not one of them shall perish from My hand!" That was the song in Jesus' night! That was the confidence to stand and stand some more! "By the power of my God, I will be faithful and true! I will complete that which He has given me to do, because it is He who is at work in me both to will and to work!"
Now, recognizing the marvelous nature of the Shepherd of our souls, consider this which is said of those who labor with Him! "Obey your leaders! Submit to them, for they keep the night-watch over your own souls, and they will give account to the chief Shepherd for their duty. Insomuch as it is in your power, make this labor of theirs a cause for joy and not grief, for their grief does not profit you" (Heb 13:17). The pastorate is a lonely place, a place of night-watches. He keeps the night-watch over our souls. When we have ceased our watchfulness, when we enter the easy forgetfulness of sleep, he must continue to be vigilant. When our spiritual state has forgotten the wilderness in which we stand, he continues to search out the dangers, to call out the warnings, to stand as the defense of his charges. Why does he do this? Because he will give account to the One who put these sheep in his charge! Recall: any loss from the flock must be made up by the shepherd. The sheep are not his own, but belong to Him who hired the shepherd, and it is to Him that the shepherd will be accountable! Woe, indeed, to those shepherds who are corrupting their sheep!
James, the brother of the Shepherd, would write that we ought not have too many who would be teachers, because the teachers bear a stricter judgment (Jas 3:1). Paul warned young Timothy of those who wanted to become teachers, and spoke with great confidence on their chosen subject, but didn't even understand that which they would teach (1Ti 1:7). The teacher who is not keeping watch is no teacher! He is but a braggart, a mouthpiece of his own pride, without understanding. The teacher, I have to think, shares that responsibility of the pastor, to shepherd the flocks of heaven. If our teaching leads the sheep astray, we, too, will give account to Him who put us in place, if indeed, He is the One who did so. If, instead, it be found that the teacher came of his own accord, watching flocks to which he was not assigned, is he not a thief awaiting opportunity? Will he not be punished by the Judge whose flocks he would rob?
It is not enough for the teacher to teach. It is not enough, even though he teach truly. If this is where he stops, he has stopped short of his purpose. The teacher must also know the concern of the night-watchman. He must join the pastor in defense against the terrors of the night. He must stand shoulder to shoulder, yet submitted. This is not simply a matter of joining in the shouts of warning, it's a matter of standing in the place of defense, of blocking the way against the intruder who would destroy. How is he to do this? In a position of prayer. He is to stand as one who cries out to the God who gives songs in the night!
Father, I know I have been failing in this regard. You have, through Your Providential ways, brought this plainly to my attention both in this time of study and outside. Through one of those You have given me to teach comes the very message that You are giving me here. Forgive me, Lord, if I have lifted technique up over content! Help me, Lord, to teach as You would have me to teach, to care for these You have put in my charge. Give me that compassion that will not push them harder than they can bear. Give me a love for Your sheep, Lord! Engrave them upon my heart with Your word, that I may be ever prayerful for their security! Let not my desire to create better students of Your Word cause me to lift up my own ability above Your Spirit working in these students. Teach me, Lord, how to pace things for their benefit and not for my own pride.
Into the very midst of these few, highly alert men comes an angel. No sound of approach has warned these men of his coming. He simply appears standing before them, and with his appearance, the area is suddenly bathed in light. Now, I'm no sheep expert, but I should think this sudden brightness would tend to awaken just about anything that was sleeping! If the light were not enough, certainly the sound of many angels shouting praises to God would serve to bring them to wakefulness. Yet, nothing is said of these sheep directly. It has led me to wonder if, perhaps, those accompanying angels had been charged with keeping the sheep peaceful. There is not really anything one could determine with finality on this topic. We quite simply are not told what became of the sheep.
However, the more I think about this, that very silence of Scripture suggests that the sheep, however they reacted, reacted quite normally for the circumstances. Had they remained sleeping through all of these events, surely that would have been cause for remark! However, the fact that sheep were acting like sheep is not likely to register all that much on the minds of those who tend them. There is also this to suggest that the sheep had also been witness to the event: When the shepherds react to this announcement, their determination is to go into town immediately to see this King (Lk 2:15). This, they could hardly have done if all the camp were not already awake and prepared to move. Alternatively, they might have left the sheep in the fold, but this seems unlikely for those who would have to pay for any losses incurred by the flock. They might, perhaps have left them in the charge of other shepherds, but if all were going into town, what other shepherds were there?
So, can we imagine this scene? These shepherds, men used to dwelling amongst the hills, men used to rough living in rough surroundings, suddenly come into town - all of them together. And with them, they bring their sheep, sheep a bit confused to be awake and moving at this hour, and doubtless bleating questions to each other all the way. What a noisy procession this must have made! I'm thinking that by the time this crowd reached that place where Mary and Joseph were, they were no longer the only ones awake in the night-watch! One can imagine the questions in the marketplace the next day. Had they already departed for the hills once more by that time? Apparently not. Again, looking ahead to the next section, we read that 'all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them' (Lk 2:18).
Why did the shepherds go into town? Well, obviously, with such an apparition having occurred, and with them able to confirm to each other that it truly had occurred, there had come a moment of decision. It is possible, I suppose, that one could hear this message and simply say, 'OK.' It is possible, I suppose, that one might choose to simply take these messengers at their word. Surely, the events in the field were sign enough that something big had happened. They didn't really need any further proof that the angel had spoken truly. That was settled then and there!
The angel, however, had declared a sign for them. Here's an interesting thing. They had declared a sign, a miraculous occurrence that would confirm the message - like a host of angels singing in the hills of Bethlehem weren't confirmation already! "A miracle is set before you: A baby lying in a feed crib." Now what, I might ask, is miraculous about that? What great setting aside of natural order was required for this event to take place? Absolutely none! Any person alive could have accomplished this thing, had they so chosen, or had they been forced to by circumstance. Yet, there is a miracle here, a miracle such as we would see occurring daily in our own lives, if we paid attention. The miracle is not the event, but the fact that the event occurred at all. It is, as I said, quite possible for anybody with a mind to to have put a baby in the feed crib for lack of a better place. It is, as news stories bear out too often, entirely possible for a mother to leave her baby in even worse surroundings for reasons less compelling. What is miraculous, in this case, is that in His Providence, He had provided Joseph and Mary with the necessity to do just this thing on just this night in just this location.
The miraculous thing is always about God's Providence. The miraculous thing is that His Providence chooses to take us into account at all! In this tiny miracle of events being timed and placed to satisfy the prophetic word, we could stand to learn quite a bit. We are forever impressed with the great miracles, the visible healings, the raising from the dead, things of that nature; but we tend to miss the miraculous intervention of God in our lives every day. Indeed, we are often tempted to be frustrated by those very things by which God is pursuing His purpose in our life. No, we are not impressed with God's work when He interferes with our natural order! It's well and good when He reverses an illness, frees us from destructive habits, or some such, but when He interferes with what seems to us to be good and normal order, we often refuse to look beyond the interruption to seek the cause.
These things are every bit as much a sign and a wonder, though, as those which grab our attention, and they are signs of no lesser worth. The miraculous, the sign, is always pointing to something else. Think about it. When we are traveling, our goal is never to reach a particular sign, to find a particular sign. No, the sign serves to point us to the place we are trying to reach. The sign is never the point! Yet, we have come to think that healing and deliverance are the point. They are not the point! They are the pointer! The value of a healing is not being healed. How valuable is it to repair a body that's going to decay and pass away eventually anyway? The value of Lazarus being raised from the dead was not that he walked the earth again for a time. Lazarus returned to the grave eventually. He was still a dead man. Hezekiah was miraculously healed, yet fifteen years later he was in the grave anyway, and frankly, those were the fifteen worst years of his life. The value of the miracle was not the physical manifestation, the value was that these miracles, these signs, pointed beyond the event, pointed to Him who causes all things to be!
The preaching of the apostles, we are told, was accompanied by signs and wonders. Indeed, these signs and wonders were sent by God as confirmation that these men were His chosen spokesmen. However, we are also told that in the end times many imposters will come, speaking words that might even fool the faithful, and they, too, would have their accompanying signs and wonders. How, then, is the believer to discern the real from the charlatan? I would posit that the defining difference will be where those signs point. If the signs are then ends in themselves, if they point to nothing but the event, beware! If the signs point to the man who stands there performing these things, beware! The genuine miracle, the genuine sign, is precisely that, a sign-post pointing the way to God. This is a critical understanding for us to grasp, because we are so easily impressed with the miraculous. We have got to get it into our thinking and into our emotional reacting that the value of the miracle is not the miracle. The value of the miracle is where it leads, what it guides the spirit within us to pursue. The value of the miracle can only ever be that it forces our attention back to our Creator.
The value of our Savior being born in a manger was not that He had such an ignominious entrance into life. The value was not found, somehow, in having the animals around Him at His birth. The value was simply that it turned attention to God, Who had chosen to orchestrate this scene for the benefit of a few tired shepherds. The value was in those shepherds coming to town in the middle of the night, sheep in tow, awakening the town, and awakening questions in the townspeople. It was a sign that would require attentiveness on the part of those to whom it was given. It was not a big, obvious sign, no flashing neon over that particular location. No, they had to search about town.
Look at it in this way: They could not come quietly to their Savior. They were going to have to make a stir. Several hundred sheep being led through the narrow streets of the city were not going to pass unnoticed. A bunch of nomads stopping by every likely location and asking if they might view the stables was not going to go unnoticed. They would, indeed, be there as the first to pay homage to the King of kings, but they would by no means do so in secret.
How many of us can say the same? How many of us have been trying to come to the King in secret. Yes, we believe, yes, we trust in Him, but we would just as soon that all these non-believers around us didn't know about it. They might laugh. They might think less of us. Oh, we can give our self-righteous justification for it: how will we reach them for Christ if we seem like aliens to them? Face it, folks! We are aliens! We are, like no others, strangers in a strange land! By all that's right, this world should be a strange and alien place to us, and we strange and alien to the natives. This earth is not my home! That's the Christian confession. In the midst of the Roman empire, the Christians were compelled to declare that as important as Roman citizenship might be, it was not important. We are citizens of heaven! When the highest appeal was to Caesar, to one who felt himself god-like in power, the Christian was compelled to appeal to a higher Authority, to deny Caesar this one thing which was not his due. When men threatened to take their lives, the Christian was compelled to turn to Him who has the power to sustain hope even through the jaws of death. And we are concerned that somebody might find out!
We cannot come secretly into the presence of the King! The kingdom of heaven, Jesus told us, suffers violence, and violent men take it by force (Mt 11:12). Does the enemy, then, prevail against our God? Not at all! Surely this cannot possibly be the meaning! No, the message is this: Though we are called upon to be the humblest of men that can be found, when it comes to the kingdom which is our true home, there is no place for meekness any longer. When it comes to the issue of ending our sojourn, of finding our way back, of pursuing all those sign-posts God is putting out, we must pursue it with every ounce of energy. It's a noisy pursuit, full of shouts not unlike the shouts of attack. We cannot sneak home under cover of darkness. We won't see the signs. We come home with torches glaring, with the noise of energetic pursuit, and we tolerate nothing to prevent our progress towards the gates that welcome us!
Even the prodigal son, when he came home, was not silent about it. He did not sneak in quietly to seek out his father for forgiveness. No, he came wailing and bemoaning his own foolishness, crying out for forgiveness even as he sobbed out how little he deserved that forgiveness. He made a scene. We will not find a welcome in our attempts to come home by stealth, to slip into our rooms unheard. Homecoming is going to be a messy business, a noisy business, a sign-post of God for those still wandering lost, and praise God for it!
One must recognize this, though, as violent an affair as our coming home may be, the violent noise is not going to be the noise of angry attack. The shouts may be loud and gut-wrenching, but they are not going to be shouts of fear or shouts of blood-lust. They are going to be the releasing of the great joy that is in us, the giving way of a calm delight that can no longer be contained! That was the good news! A great joy had been give by God for all the people! It occurs to me that my attempt at paraphrasing this matter may not have got it quite right. The word is not that a cause for great joy had come, but that great joy had come. He Himself is our Great Joy! Yet, I think I can still reasonably put forward that a cause for great joy had come. That is the good news: You, who have been miserable, trapped in your sins, serving a master who has your worst interests at heart; you, a prisoner shackled in the rock-yard, Redemption has come! There is release for the prisoner! There is a cure for your spiritual sickness! When the chains fall away, when you find yourself at liberty to pursue the course of righteousness, how can you possibly think to contain the joy of your liberation?
I heard on the news yesterday that Paris was celebrating the anniversary of its liberation from German occupation. Sixty years on, and the joy of liberation still hasn't subsided! There is great joy, still, in that city for their freedom. Two thousand years ago, the whole world was occupied. For many, that occupation still continues. They are the captive subjects of a terrible tyrant who gleefully works them to death. By their labors, he robs the Creator of the land of the fruits of His creation. But, the Liberator has come. He moves amongst the captives, removing the bonds that have held them, declaring an end to the tyrant's reign. It took some time in Paris for the announced end of the tyranny to become the experience of the whole city. It is taking time for the message to reach all the many millions imprisoned on earth.
But, when that news arrives: great joy! What meaning in that! Joy: a calm delight, cheerfulness. Yet, it is now great: it is on the grand scale, abundant, intense! We, who had only toil and sorrow are suddenly free to seek our Maker. This is not just a matter for cheerfulness, for a calm sense of well-being. This is cause to shout! This is delight of a great intensity, exploding from our lips, a shout raised to heaven, to seek out the King who freed us, to welcome the Liberator in our midst. This is abundant reason for rejoicing! Compared to this, there can be no reason to rejoice. The only thing that will ever bring us such a cause to rejoice again is the return of our King into His kingdom once and for all, the termination of the tyrant to whom we once were tied. Oh, we have cause to be cheerful as no other, we have cause to be cheerful on a grand scale! We have cause to be cheerful whatever may come.
This is what empowered the martyrs in Rome. They took Polycarp from his home, thinking that his age would give him a willingness to recant of his faith. They came with force, but he went with them quite willingly, asking only a time to pray before departing. They threatened him with death most cruel, they thought to throw him to starving wild animals for their play. He welcomed it joyfully, seeing only his Redeemer drawing nigh. The animals showed no interest in him. They threatened him with fire. He stood in the midst, singing songs in the night, praising his Savior to the last breath with joy unspeakable, for he knew that he had abundant reason for uncontainable joy. He had entered the kingdom by force.
This news, this reason to celebrate, has been spreading to the captives through the years, yet every year new captives arrive. The news must be given again to a new generation of slaves to sin. The good news, of course, is only good news to those who hear it with understanding, who hear and respond. Returning to Paris occupied, there were those in France who sympathized with the Nazi occupiers, who worked willingly with the enemy. These, if they heard that liberation was coming, would not find this good news. They would not be rejoicing as the army rolled in. They would sense an end to their own dreams of power, perhaps an end of their life on earth, if their efforts were found out. In the world today, there are certainly those who labor for the tyrant of their own accord. They think to gain some power or prestige from their service to the enemy of all life. They think, perhaps, that they shall escape the death penalty that hangs over them by serving so gladly the prince of death. They have a sorry reckoning coming. The Redeemer lives! The Redeemer comes, and He will be victorious when He comes for His kingdom. The tyrant has indeed killed many of the Redeemer's men, thrown them from the vineyard in hopes of claiming it for himself with finality. But the King comes! And, like a bow-wave before His coming, news spreads in the land that there is hope. There is liberty. There is reason to rejoice.
Many hear the news and thrill to it. They immediately turn from their slavery to this One who has broken their chains, and they enlist instantly in His service with shouts of joy. Angels rejoice in heaven with each act of liberation. Consider what we read here of their excitement at the mere announcement of the campaign's beginning. A Redeemer is born. As yet, He is but a helpless baby lying in the meanest of circumstances, and still the host of heaven comes down to rejoice in the presence of a few shocked shepherds. Just imagine the sound of their rejoicing when the plan born that day bears fruit, when the Redeemer releases another captive once and for all! Angels rejoice in heaven every time the good news is heard by one who thinks it good news indeed! What about us? Have we lost the excitement that should be ours every time another fellow human comes to life? Are we no longer impressed by this greatest of miracles? Are we too concerned about our own comfort and health to find God's work in another sinner reason to shout?
This is the shout that brings down the enemy's walls! Consider: when Israel was circling Jericho, they had not yet seen a display of power. It was not power they were impressed with, not power that caused them to shout. It was simply the dawning recognition that there was a Redeemer, a Victorious King who - though He had as yet made no apparent move - would be victorious. The shout that they let forth was not a cheer for some great move already made. It was a shout that announced that victory was already certain though not a thing seemed to have happened yet. It was a shout that declared to the enemy that however much the odds appeared to be with him, victory was with God.
For us, that same shout is declared when we see a life turn to Christ. This is our victory announcement to the enemy: that we shout and rejoice at the first turning of life. Face it. In that first moment, there is nothing much to show that a life has changed. The person who turned is by all appearances the same person they were moments before. They likely still have the same habits, the same sins to deal with. Our shout at their coming to the Savior is a declaration that whatever the odds may seem to be, however much that life may still appear bound to the enemy's service, those bonds are broken, and the Redeemer will have victory. In coming years, things may look bleak for this one. It may seem as though he is returning to his chains. Our shouts of joy at his first conception in new life are a declaration that He who brought new birth is able to finish what He started. Indeed, He is still before the Father, and He can still declare, "I have lost none of those You entrusted to Me!" Who can be silent in the face of that?
God has broken in! A miracle of far greater import than those we tend to crave has occurred in our very midst! Life has appeared where before there was only walking, lingering death! What response can we have but awe? How can that awe not break forth in joyful sound? I tell you, though, that there is even greater cause than this! God has broken in upon the our life once more, and still we are not destroyed!
Consider: There is only one reasonable response to God's presence - an awed reverence. There can only be the recognition that perfect holiness has come, and in that recognition it is impossible for us to miss our own sinful condition. When God breaks in, there is awed reverence, but it cannot help but be accompanied by the fearful recognition our sin, and the death it deserves. Isaiah saw it. He saw the Lord, and it about destroyed him! Moses learned it. He wanted to see the glory of God full on. I wonder, did he have a bit of a death wish in that? Surely, he understood that to see that glory in truth was to die. Yet, the merest glimpse of the edges of God's wonder sufficed. Abraham knew. Even as he entered into covenant with the perfectly holy God, he knew that it could only kill him. He knew his own sinfulness, that he could never keep the terms he signed onto, and he saw before him the penalty for his failure. "So may You do to me…"
But, there was a flip-side to that covenant. God had also signed on, "So may you do to Me…" In this was promise, and hope of life. It was this promise and hope that Moses was sent to serve, and it was to preserve the promise that the Law was handed down through him. In His mercy, God looked upon a people that could not help but offend Him, and gave them the means to understand how they might please Him instead. Isaiah experienced the full power of promise firsthand. Knowing himself thoroughly in despair as he recognized his own sinfulness when held up to the Standard, the Standard reached out to him and gave him a purity not his own. He was not made righteous in that he was suddenly able to comply to the Law. He was made righteous because "this has touched you." Righteousness had touched Isaiah, and in that touch, Righteousness had imparted itself to him.
This is the greatest cause of joy for us! We have come face with the truth. We have been shown by incontrovertible evidences that we are guilty of breaking the only Law that really matters, and our Judge has shown us the sentence. We know what we deserve. We are guilty of treason against heaven's King, every one of us, and treason has always drawn the death penalty. We have been brought into the courtroom of this King we have rebelled against, and He is as aware of our crime as we. He takes the sentence in hand, looks upon such as you and I, and, though we tremble, awaiting the final verdict against us, He looks upon us and declares that the sentence has been served! Justice has been maintained! The debt we owed, the debt of our own lives, has already been paid! The crimes of which we have been accused have already been dealt with, and He will not allow this double-jeopardy. No, it is not our condemnation that He reads in that verdict, but our salvation! We, who so fully deserved to be thrown in the dungeon to die forgotten and forlorn, have been handed terms of peace! We, who had joined the rebel forces, being caught in the act have now been offered positions in the very government we had opposed! Where we had earned disfavor, we have found trust.
What an awesome thing this is! Words fail as I try to convey the full wonder of this realization upon my own life. Words cannot capture the joy of discovering love where one expected only hatred. There is only that great shout, the shout of a joy so great that it cannot be contained, cannot even be wholly expressed. A lifetime will not suffice to express my thanks to this One who paid my debt. Fortunately, I shall have far more than this short lifetime to do so. There will be an eternity to spend in that Presence. There will be an eternity to spend, freed of the sinful ways of the world, freed of my own imperfections, an eternity to be wholly conformed to the ways of my Christ! Praises be unto His name!
That whole scene, the whole business of our sin and God's holiness, is wrapped up in that title that God gives His Son. He is the Christ, the Messiah, the Anointed One. These words don't have as great a significance to modern culture, perhaps, as they once did. We still recognize the significance of having been anointed for a particular purpose, I suppose, but it's lost some of its power. Instead of signifying one's fitness for the purpose, it's often been abused such that anointed for office now feels more like the effects of some sort of nepotism. But, God did not operate that way then, and He does not now.
Here, we are dealing not with man's appointment but God's alone. None has moved Him to choose this One, no higher counsel has sat in advisory session with Him. He has determined what the situation needed, and He has furnished what is needed. Therein is the great significance of Messiah. He it is who furnishes what is needed. Indeed, in Him what is needed is furnished. He is what is needed! There is nothing further. There is no other alternative. If we would come to peace with our Creator, here is the Way. He is the exclusive way. There is none other to whom we can turn. "This is My beloved Son. Obey Him!" That was an exclusive endorsement. It was far and away beyond, "hey, this guy's really good! You should listen to him!" No other name has been given us by which we might be saved. There is One who has been anointed for that purpose, and to Him alone may we turn, for He alone has furnished what is needed. He has paid our debt to heaven in full, and now sits at God's right hand, our Advocate, our Eternal Attorney, blessed be His glorious name!
Perhaps, there will be some who read this, even read this far, and have not met this Savior. Perhaps there will be some who have heard others talk about God speaking to them, but have never experienced that direct connection with Him. Perhaps, even amongst those who would declare themselves believers, this is an experience that is outside your own. You may, perhaps with good reason, be skeptical of those who would claim to hear His voice. But, I'll tell you this: He is not silent!
Perhaps, you suppose He might speak, perhaps has spoken in the past, back when folks were more willing to listen to Him, but that He has long since stopped doing so. Perhaps, you think He speaks to the religious leaders, but not to the commoners. I tell you, no! He is not silent. We have, perhaps, become hard of hearing, but He is most certainly not silent!
I'll tell you this, as well, and this is a lesson the shepherds were learning that night. It's one thing to know God speaks. Every Jew in Israel knew that God had spoken to their ancestors through the course of their history. Every Christian in the west knows that God spoke to their ancestors, though we may deny it. Every Muslim knows that God spoke to their ancestors, though they have muddied the message quite beyond recognition. Fair to say that all humanity knows that God speaks. Well, it's one thing to know He speaks, but it's another thing entirely when He speaks to you!
Thanks be to God that He does still make these personal visitations! In all truth, it can be said that no man has ever come to Him, except He has had that personal visit. It is the power of God speaking to you personally that draws you to Him. You may think it's the preacher. You may think it's the friend, or the spouse, or the parent, that drags you to church one day. I tell you, no. All their efforts to convince you to come home to God will prove utterly worthless unless He speaks to you. When He speaks, you may not realize Who has spoken. I didn't realize what had taken place for a day or two when He called me into His kingdom. It didn't have all the fanfare and light of this visit to the shepherds, but the impact was as great.
Let me put this another way for you - the same truth, but in a different lighting: It is one thing to sit in the church, to read the Bible, to even have memorized the Bible. It is one thing to absorb the message of the preacher, to nod in agreement with the moral standard he sets out. Yet, none of this brings salvation to you. None of this will give you cause to stand when the Judge reviews your case. None of this will even cause you to seek the means of standing. It is when God speaks, when He points you in the direction of Messiah, and says, "This is My beloved Son. Obey Him!" Only then will you avail yourself of the salvation He so freely gives.
James saw yet another application of this truth. The hearer of the Word was nothing. It was the doer of the Word who showed himself justified. Know that it was not his doing that brought justification, it simply gave proof of the justification that was his. The doing of the Word will earn no man a place in heaven. However, the one who has heard God speak, the one who has had that personal visit, who has heard the Judge's promise of pardon, will do. It is the manifestation of that justification which is his. It is the first fruits of the sanctification that is ongoing within him.
Behold! A Savior is born, an Anointed King for all the peoples of the earth! He is the One who will save His people from their sins (Mt 1:21). As Salvation walked the earth, He came upon a Samaritan woman, one in egregious violation of the Law of righteousness, but He spoke not condemnation to her, rather salvation. God spoke. A life was changed! But, more than a life! A town was changed. The change in her life gave strength to her own words as she broke forth in great joy! Come see this Man! There was power in her words, the power of that glory which had been planted within her. They came. They were impressed by the change in this woman, so they came. Perhaps they came looking for no more than entertainment. Perhaps they came hoping to see some faith-healer, a soothsayer, or some other curiosity. But, having come, what was their reaction? Now, we don't believe simply because of your testimony! Now, we believe because we have heard for ourselves! We have heard the voice of God, and we now know that this One is truly the Savior (Jn 4:42)! Again, it was the personal encounter with God, with Salvation, with Messiah, He in Whom was furnished what we needed! That has made all the difference.
Truly, He is the One! He is the One God exalted. Anointed by the Father, sent by the Father, now exalted by the Father. He lives eternally, pursuing His office at the right hand of God, God with God. He is the Prince. He is the sole and supreme Authority. All other claims to that title of prince are charlatans and deceivers. The prince of the powers of the air? An imposter! A claimant to authorities not his to wield, and he will bend his knee to the true King, by choice or by force. He will bow, and he will be deposed. Jesus is the Savior! In Him and Him alone it has been granted that we might repent! Imagine that! It is granted to us that we might repent! It's a privilege, a gracious gift from our Creator! He could leave us to our sins, could allow us to dig our own graves, but He has granted us to repent. In Christ, in His beloved Son, His appointed and anointed Salvation, we have been allowed to see what we were doing, where it was leading, and we have been empowered by the Holy Spirit to truly leave it all behind, to turn around, step away from the cliff, and begin the long walk back towards Home! Not only repentance is granted to us, for that would not have been enough! Though we turned fully from our wicked ways, and walked in perfect righteousness all the rest of our days, still we would stand in violation of the Law, for to sin once is to be guilty of the whole! No, the power to repent was not enough to bring salvation. It also required forgiveness, the paying of our legal debt. It required the removal of our legal burden in heaven, for the mercy of repentance must stand in unity with the justice of holiness. He who is Mercy cannot cease in His mercy to also be Justice. The Laws of righteousness have been violated, and there is a due penalty for that violation. Thanks be to God! He has paid our fine. He has given His life that we might live!
Who, indeed, is like the Lord our God! There is none like Him! There is no other Name under heaven that can even compare! There is not greater hope than this! There is no greater joy! He who created us has saved us! He who formed us in the womb has called us His own children! He who set the standard has furnished what is needed for us to conform to the standard! He who is righteousness has given us to be righteous. In our weakness He shows His own strength. In our inability to remain clean, He shows His incredible power to make us clean. In our struggle to do His will, He is made manifest inasmuch as we do so at all. As we learn to react to the situations of life by the way of the cross, rather than the ways of man, we give evidence that He is alive and He is not silent. He is still speaking to His own, and to those with whom He speaks, life will never, ever, be the same again!
