Benevolent Dictator: Everlasting Father

The third title to consider from the Isaiah 9 prophecy this Advent is “Everlasting Father." 

As Christians, we confess that Jesus is the fulfillment of that prophecy, and we further confess him to be the Son of God, the Word made flesh. As a consequence, this particular title might cause confusion. How can the Son be the Father? As we discover, the title refers (as do all in the passage) to the promised davidic king, who ushers in a reign of justice, righteousness, and peace. This title anticipates the fatherly nature of his rule.

That God was a father to his people is evident in the compassion that he felt toward them. In Psalm 103, the writer gratefully acknowledges this: “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.” (see As dust, humans are finite, limited, and woefully ignorant. And the psalmist suggests that God took this into account in his merciful dealings with his covenant people, despite generations of rebellion and idolatry. That remembering on the part of God is an expression of abundant grace, prevailing pity. 

A consistent portrayal of God is that he cares for the poor, the fatherless, the widow. These represent those most vulnerable to the abuse of power. Israel’s kings were to reflect God’s compassion as they exercised their authority. There were few that did, however. The overwhelming testimony is that they “made [Israel’s] yoke heavy.” (1 Kings 12:4). The promise of a king who exercised fatherly care for his people must have fueled their longing daily. Doesn’t it yours?

And as the king was to the people so the father is to his children. We, too, are to reflect God’s character. As we can see, compassion is a vital component of parenting. The children put under our care are as vulnerable as those whom Jesus looked upon and considered like sheep without a shepherd (Mark 6:34). He was filled with compassion for them and we should be for our children. This does not excuse bad behavior but it should temper our anger. It apparently does so for God. The writer of Hebrews observes that discipline from a father is a sign of love. It follows, therefore, that love should govern our discipline, not anger. What a tragedy to think that our un-compassionate parenting might create longing in our children similar to that of Israel. Rather, may we seek God for the grace to make our parenting a foretaste of the Messiah’s fatherly care.

Benevolent Dictator: Mighty God

We currently see the rise of the “strong man” in many parts of the world. This is a ruler who plots to gain complete authority, either through brute force, political manipulation, the weakening of governmental structures, such as the undermining of the judiciary, or a combination of all of the above, along with the silencing of critics, particularly the press. The pattern is consistent and not subtle. And despite the terrible consequences that have historically followed such accretions of power, there are still people who hail the strong man’s rise. Blinded by self-interest, motivated by fear, or fatigued by societal problems, the hope is that the man, by possessing complete control, will straighten things out. Alas, it never goes well, does it?

But there might be something in the desire for a strong man that reflects human longing on some deeper level. If we are part of a creation that exists of, through, and for God, then there is likely something within us that yearns to have someone take over and put an end to all the tumult. If we examine Scripture, we discover that that is indeed where history is headed. There is coming the ultimate strong man, a king who has all authority and possess divine power: 

For to us a child is born,

to us a son is given;

and the government shall be upon his shoulder,

and his name shall be called . . .

Mighty God . . .

What would possessing divine power allow a king to do? I would suggest three things: he would be able to subdue all enemies, completely carry out his will, and withstand all assaults. Can we discover those capacities in Jesus’ ministry? Mindful that his name means Savior, and that he is also called Immanuel, God with us, we should look for the power to be present as he accomplishes his primary task, to save his people from their sins. His declarations in John 10 show unfettered capacity to carry out his will: “I lay down my life for the sheep. And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice . . . I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.” In Luke 18, Jesus warns that he will be assaulted, but not overcome: “the Son of Man . . . will be delivered over to the Gentiles and will be mocked and shamefully treated and spit upon. And after flogging him, they will kill him, and on the third day he will rise.” Lastly, in Acts 2, we are confronted with his ability to subdue those who plotted against him, bringing them into his fold: “Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified . . . Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart . . . and there were added that day about three thousand souls.” 

While among fallen humanity, the rise of the strong man is something to be feared, in the Kingdom it is something to be longed for. God’s Strong Man came as the promised child, bringing salvation. He returns to establish a rule of justice and righteousness. Tumult will, indeed, cease. Let us hail his rise this Advent season!

Benevolent Dictator: Wonderful Counselor

God has built authority into his creation. It originates with him, and is mediated through others. The Bible, and history, record the often ruinous ways in which God’s authority has been wielded by those who have had the privilege to possess it. Ahaz, the king of Judah at the time when several familiar prophecies were given, is an egregious example. In an attempt to preserve his power, rather than trusting Yahweh he sought to make an alliance with a pagan ruler, sending him the gold and silver stored in the Temple. Additionally, he sacrificed his son to a pagan god in an attempt to curry its favor. He then shut up the temple and set up alternative altars in Jerusalem. And most foolishly, he discounted the signs and ignored the stern, yet gracious, warnings from the God who had placed him on the eternal throne of David. Ahaz was a monumental political disaster. 

Yet, in the midst of this debacle, Yahweh offered a vision of political power that would be wielded with perfection. “Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulder . . .” Here is one who will rule with all authority and will do so with wisdom, justice, and righteousness, for he will be the “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” (Isaiah 9:6,7) What an extraordinary hope to set before us!

We can be grateful that in our country we have not had to suffer the sorrow and heartache of a despotic ruler, such as Ahaz. The framers of the Constitution were wise enough to understand that tyranny results when a person, or particular faction, is allowed to have absolute authority. The separation of powers effected by establishing three branches of government has proven to be a hedge against such an accretion of power. But it is a sad commentary on the untrustworthiness of fallen man that a such form of government was thought necessary. As Lord Acton famously observed, “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

Advent is the season when the church looks backward and forward, simultaneously. We look back to the fulfillment of the promise of a coming deliverer, and forward to the fulness of his deliverance. And that fulness entails his assuming the role of benevolent dictator. During his brief earthly sojourn, Jesus inaugurated his rule, but he promises that one day he will return to establish the envisioned peaceable kingdom. We pray with faith and live in hope of his return. May God hasten the day. 

Advent: The Politics of Christmas 4

The English word advent comes from a Latin word meaning arrival. It’s an appropriate term, therefore, with which to label the time of year in which we await the arrival of Jesus, the Savior. Usually, the focus of this season is on his entering this world as a baby born of a virgin. Historically, however, the church has also included his returning to “judge the living and the dead,” as the creed states. This second and final arrival will realize the fullness of the salvation he came to effect.

Our focus over the past few weeks has been the political nature of Advent and Christmas. We’ve considered how prophecy foresees his righteous rule; how the language surrounding his birth alludes to his assuming the throne of David; and the way in which his birth anticipates his being crucified for being the “king of the Jews.” But when we contemplate his second coming we find it to be the most political of all, for as the opening of Revelation declares, he “is coming with the clouds.” Such a coming signals the political nature of his arrival for it references another piece of apocalyptic literature. In Daniel 7 we are given a glimpse into the heavenly courtroom where ruthless kings are being judged and condemned by the Ancient of Days. Subsequent to that judgment, Daniel reports, “I saw in the night visions, and behold, with the clouds of heaven there came one like a son of man, and he came to the Ancient of Days and was presented before him. And to him was given dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him; his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom one that shall not be destroyed” (7:13-14). The vision is potent! The deposed kings are likened to ferocious beasts, yet the one coming with the clouds assumes a breadth of rule that these wannabes wish they could possess.

Apocalyptic literature is just what Christians need to read in our current climate, a climate confidently described as “post-Christian.” Christianity’s influence has undeniably waned and followers of Jesus are the object of scorn. Such marginalization can have a corrosive effect on the church’s faith. We either lose heart, or we yield to the seeming greater power. In his mercy, God has seen fit to raise up a kind of literature that gives us a glimpse of "the bigger picture." And this genre teaches us that we should not fear the powerful for the God who rescued us from hell will cause us to triumph over all the forces that war against the Lord and his Anointed. In the end our faith will be vindicated and rewarded. 

So take heart. Grace and peace from the triune God is ours!

Wilt Thou Love God, as He Thee?

Wilt thou love God, as he thee? Then digest,
My soul, this wholesome meditation,
How God the Spirit, by angels waited on
In heaven, doth make his Temple in thy breast.
The Father having begot a Son most blest,
And still begetting -- for he ne'er begun --
Hath deigned to choose thee by adoption,
Co-heir t' his glory, and Sabbath' endless rest.
And as a robbed man, which by search doth find
His stol'n stuff sold, must lose or buy 't again:
The Son of glory came down, and was slain,
Us whom he'd made, and Satan stol'n, to unbind.
'Twas much that man was made like God before,
But, that God should be made like man, much more.
— John Donne (1572-1631)

A Christmas Primer: Lesson 4, The Mystery and Mercy of Christmas

We know from personal experience the outrage felt when laws are wantonly disobeyed and the disobedience is met with a shrug. It roils the soul. We instinctively know that lawbreaking should not go unpunished otherwise laws would be meaningless. What is true in earthly justice, is true in the heavenly. From the beginning human beings have been breaking God’s law, and to allow such lawbreaking to go unpunished would make a mockery of the law and of the One who established it.

Though everyone from the first has been receiving the just penalty for lawbreaking, death, there is yet a day when the full force of the sentence will be carried out. When will that be? On the Day of Judgment. On that Day all lawbreaking will be brought before the Judge and dealt with according to the rule of His law. Every person will have to give an answer, to make a defense, and none will be found righteous, “no, not one” (Romans 3:10). Unless . . . unless they are found to be “in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1).

God has acted to provide evidence that the guilty can present to the Judge to escape condemnation. He has sent His Son to fulfill the law and allow those who place their trust in the Him to have His fulfillment of the law put on their account, therefore wiping out their record of lawbreaking (Romans 8:3). This representative accomplishment of the law’s demands is a gift of God’s mercy.

But what kind of person could this be who could actually accomplish all righteousness and so stand in our place on the Day? It would have to be one, as the Heidelberg Catechism teaches, who is “a true and righteous man and yet more powerful than all creatures, that is, one who is at the same time true God” (Q. 15). This is the mystery and mercy of Christmas. The baby born in Bethlehem had been sent to be Immanuel (God with us) so that he might be Jesus (Yahweh saves). God seeing our lost condition fully enters into our existence to do for us what we could not do for ourselves. In this, God is shown to be “just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus” (Romans 3:26). May we give thanks this Christmas for his grace.

A Christmas Primer: Lesson 3, Rejoice? or Reject?

The reactions recorded in the Gospels to the news that the time for the appearance of the long-awaited Messiah had arrived tell us much about the meaning of Christmas. They fall out in one of two ways: joy or dread. There is no middle ground. The strength of the responses suggests that the people involved knew what was at stake. The coming of the King meant that the status quo could no longer stand. For some, that prospect was thrilling; for others, deeply troubling. 

Though the implications of the advent of the Messiah have been layered over with all manner of cultural and religious practices, to the extent that many are not even aware of his arrival let alone the implications of his coming, the initial reactions remain appropriate. His name is Jesus, a name given to him because he came to save people from their sins. This salvation is not just to release people from the futility they might feel about their lives, but to provide them with a righteousness that will allow them to stand on the Day of Judgment. Without that righteousness no one will be able to bear the scrutiny of the holy judge. And the subsequent sentencing will be devastating. That is why the response to the coming of Jesus is just as vital today as when the Messianic age dawned.

Of all the people who rejoiced at the news, Mary is central and most compelling. Though a young woman (she is believed to have been in her teens), she exhibits a mature knowledge of Scripture, a discerning spirit, a humble heart, and extraordinary faith. At every turn she responds with a readiness to bear the cross laid upon her. “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord . . .” She will receive a great reward on that Day.

On the other hand, Herod is the prime example of those who felt threatened. Firmly ensconced as the ruler of a small patch of the Roman Empire, he desired to remain such, even if it meant killing members of his own family. Upon hearing of the Messiah’s birth, his only thought was to destroy him. He will have much to answer for on that Day.

The Messiah has come. As Simeon prophesied, he is “appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed.” This was fulfilled then, and continues to be now. But it’s ultimate fulfillment will come on the Day when all will stand before him and be compelled to declare him King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Advent: Holding Fast

Abraham had been waiting a long time. God promised him a heritage that would bless “all the families of the earth,” but fulfillment of the promise had not been realized. What at first seemed like an extraordinary gift had become a source of frustration and disappointment. In the face of the delay, Abraham’s faith had faltered more than once and he made decisions that had unwelcome consequences. Finally, a propitious wind blew and fanned the flames of his faith and he was transformed. The promise settled into his soul and he was able to heed and trust the word of God, even a command that seemingly negated everything God had previously spoken.

Abraham’s Advent experience is instructive. He had his own period of waiting that placed huge demands on his ability to hold fast to the word that God had spoken. And though he is remembered for his willingness to raise his knife over the promised heir to slay him, convinced that God had the power to raise him from the dead, such bold believing was not always his. He lost confidence and settled for shortcuts and man-made solutions. 

His wait, however, turned out to be a mere 24 years. How long has it been since the church received the promise that Jesus would return to judge the world and gather to himself his own? Nearly 2000 years. 2000 years is a long time. Long enough to cause a soul to doubt that he's ever going to return. Long enough to drift from the teaching that promised reward on that day for the faithful, the “one who overcomes.” Long enough to convince a disciple that deferred gratification is not as sensible as immediate gratification.

This Advent, let’s ask God for the grace to hold fast to our confession of faith without wavering, believing that the one who came and gained the victory over the deceiver and the evil he unleashed is coming again to bring full restoration to all that he has made.

The Call of Christmas

From a blog post of Dr. Jennifer Myhre, of World Harvest Mission, serving in Kenya:

“Having spent 17 of the last 20 Christmases in Africa, the wind which blows in a drier hotter season now feels familiar, and the flashing spastic lights we bought in our capital a couple years back (our first electrified season) feel appropriately chaotic. Last year was our first in Kijabe (Kenya), and I remember the church Christmas pageant which included a band of skinny little camouflage-clad Kenyan boys as Herod’s soldiers marching in like a rebel resistance army, and Jesus’ parents fleeing before them like any other refugees. I don’t recall much focus on this part of the story in America as I grew up.  Our plays ended half-way through Matthew 2, with the gifts of the magi, while the scene was still serenely beautiful and triumphant.  

“The slaughter of innocent children gives the story a jarring, uncomfortable ending, dangling, unresolved, and terrible.  Rachel weeping for her children, because they are no more . . .

“We should not have dropped this part of the Christmas story all these years, because slaughter is the context of Christmas.  The whole story hinges on the presence of rampant evil. When masses of children are violently killed, it becomes hard to deny the reality of injustice and suffering, the horrible brokenness of our world . . .

“On this continent, it would be absurd to deny the horror and heartache of evil, just as absurd as it would be to do so in Newtown [CT], or in Bethlehem, when the bloodied bodies of baby boys were being buried.”

Matthew’s inclusion of Herod’s atrocity in his Christmas account, powerfully signals that God is not removed from our human condition. He understands that, as Paul states, “. . . the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God . . [for in that day] the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” After all, it is He who, in Revelation 21, puts before us the vision of an existence, an earth, a new earth, in which there is no more death, sorrow, and, therefore, no more mourning.

So, as Dr. Myhre acknowledges:

“Evil is real. Innocents suffer. But the story does not end there . . .

“The birth of the child, who is God, ushers in a turning point in the story. A foe capable of meeting evil, and defeating it, disguised and humbled in human flesh. The incarnation sets in motion a complete reversal of all that is wrong, all that is sorrowful, all that is painful, and in the course of this battle, a lot of people die. The baby survives and becomes the man who will refuse to ride against Roman powers as a King. That is a victory too small, a territory too temporary.  This King will choose a path of suffering, voluntarily taking on all that evil could throw at him, in his own body, nailed to a tree -- like the teachers at Sandy Hook who put their bodies in the path of bullets, trying to protect the children. This King will defeat evil. He will walk out of a tomb so that every 6 and 7-year-old gunned down, every starving baby, and even the Adam Lanzas of the world, can be redeemed.”

We who are followers of Jesus, while we look forward to that day in glory with him when mourning will be no more, must not ignore the path he trod to get there. His mission was a mission lived out in the real world, to overcome the evil let loose upon the real world. From first breath to last, Jesus bore the burden of sin and its evil evidences. Sin caused him to be greeted by the sound of weeping as he came into the world; he confronted its malevolence as he walked about the highways and byways; he succumbed to its power as he yielded up his life on the cross. He did not, however, overcome evil so that we would not have to confront it. He confronted evil so that we might join him in overcoming it. The call of Christmas is to pick up the cross and follow him.

This requires us to be more than passive, secret followers. Jesus did what he did in plain view, and those who had eyes to see, saw, and were overwhelmed by his love and sacrifice. While our work will not redeem anyone in any eternal sense, it will serve to expose others to Jesus and, with his help, push back against the effects of evil in the world. Dr. Myhre: “. . . it is not so much the power of armies that keeps evil at bay, but the ordinary acts of courage and kindness that preserve our world: the community outpouring of love which will heal hearts in Newtown; the tenacious pushing of a teenage girl who gave birth to a baby; and the steady painful walk he took towards death; the daily self-sacrifice of his followers who sweep streets, and teach children, and suture wounds, and defend the fatherless.” Such actions on the part of his followers celebrate the coming of the Christ, who came not to be served but to serve and give his life as a ransom for many.

Adoration of the Magi

The news created a stir. Visitors from the east, magi, men who spent their days discerning the times, had arrived in Jerusalem claiming they had seen a sign. A star appeared in the sky that indicated the promised king of the Jews had been born. Apparently, this was good news to them as it provoked them to travel a long way provided with gifts to express their adoration. Perhaps through their studies they learned that the one they now sought would bring peace and blessing that would be for all peoples, including gentiles like them. That such a one may have actually been born was a matter for great rejoicing.

Not everyone was of the same mind, however. For Herod the “king,” the news posed a threat. The notion that one had arrived that the Jews would laud as the Messiah, the true king, would only spell trouble for his already troubled rule. Then the scribes and priests, who at first displayed alarm, appear to have constructed an explanation for the strange phenomenon that allowed them to go about their business with indifference, despite their knowledge of the Scriptures that foretold of the coming one. Only the “wise” men were provoked to awe and joy at the advent of the Christ.

Such disparate responses to the person of Jesus persist. There are those who, like Herod, respond with virulent hostility. Others, despite the wealth of information available to them, appear unmoved by Christ even though his presence and teaching altered the landscape of human history. Thankfully, there are those who understand the significance of the one born to the virgin and respond with joyful worship. May we all be numbered among them.

What's in a Name?

What’s in a name? Most names have a meaning. How about yours? My name, Kirk, means church. It’s pretty ironic that I ended up working in a church for the past 25 years. Sometimes destinies are bound up in names, at least that seems to be the case biblically. It's certainly so for the one whose birth we anticipate during the Advent season.

In Matthew’s account (1:18-23), we learn that the baby who is to be born to Mary is to be named Jesus, the meaning of which is “God saves.” The name will have particular significance for the child, as he will “save his people from their sins.”  But Matthew also sees in the birth of the child the fulfillment of a word given by God through the prophet Isaiah that the child born of a virgin is to be named Emmanuel, which means “God with us” (Isaiah 7:14).

What’s in a name? In this case, the identity of the perfectly suited mediator between a holy God and sinful human beings. We needed a thoroughly righteous man to accomplish what we could not do -- live a sinless life -- and so be our champion, who at the same time was powerful enough to bear the eternal wrath of God. Only the heavenly named redeemer would do.

God knew that we could not save ourselves. If we were going to be rescued he would have to do it. And wonder of wonders, our savior is a baby, sent from heaven to be for us Jesus, Emmanuel. Advent is intended to be a time when we reflect upon the circumstances that prompted the loving and gracious act of God sending his Son. May our hearts be humbled and filled with gratitude.