Nehemiah 1:3-5

When you wake up every morning, inevitably two eyes will look you in the face. In some form or fashion, sin stares us down as soon as we awake. The brokenness of this world is inescapable, although we certainly do attempt retreat from it. In fact, that is one of the options you have every day when faced with the brokenness in your life: paralysis and retreat. You can see some broken relationship, some pain in your life, some tragedy, or even a besetting sin in your own life, and you can quit. You could throw your arms up, and feel so broken over the pain that you are paralyzed, unable to move in any direction but into yourself. However, there’s another option here, one many of us would prefer to take, and it is just as cowardly. We don’t even make it into the brokenness game, because we would prefer simply to ignore it. Act as if it isn’t even there. We live in this self made world where, if we see some effect of sin around us, we can operate in the bliss of ignorance. It is as if our chin is so turned up to the brokenness, that our eyes can see it. Or at least that’s the way we would prefer it.

But deep down inside of us, we all know these postures toward brokenness are a farce. Ignorance and paralysis are just two ways to make our own way out of the sin of this world. But unfortunately they can only get you so far. Consider Nehemiah here, who doesn’t run to either pole, but moves in a uniquely redemptive direction. His beloved city of Jerusalem is destroyed, and so how does he respond? He weeps, fasts, and prays for 4 months. He grieves. He mourns. He doesn’t let his heart get callous and jaded. He simply weeps. Yet at some point I imagine him, in the middle of this period or mourning and praying, remember the story that he is in. He gets caught up in the current of the river of redemption. He sees a picture of what God’s world is supposed to be like, and it includes a glorious city of Jerusalem, not a broken one. So he responds. He uses all of the practical, relational, political resources that he has, and he moves straight into the brokenness. He goes to the city to rebuild it.

What a picture of Jesus himself. Where would we be if Jesus looked at us with jaded ignorance, and just gave up? What if he just said, “They’re too far gone! There’s nothing that can be done!” And of course we know that he didn’t. He wept at the tomb of Lazarus. In the garden of Gethsemane, his soul was broken by the task before him. Luke tells us that “his sweat became like great drops of blood” as he considered the cross that was looming over him. And in this moment of conversation with his Father, time almost stands still. He could have quit then. He could have been so paralyzed by the pain he was about to feel, that he could have walked away. But he turned his face toward Golgotha, and he went. Our Savior wept, but he also redeemed. And that is our job as well. The world is broken, and we should let ourselves feel it. And then, with the power of the cross, we can move into the brokenness of this world as instruments in the hands of our blessed Redeemer.

Kyle

O God of my Exodus, Great was the joy of Israel’s sons, when Egypt died upon the shore, Far greater the joy when the Redeemer’s foe lay crushed in the dust.

Jesus strides forth as the victor, conqueror of death, hell, and all opposing might;

He bursts the bands of death, tramples the powers of darkness down, and lives forever.

He, my gracious surety, apprehended for payment of my debt, comes forth from the house of the grave free, and triumphant over sin, Satan, and death.

Show me herein the proof that his vicarious offering is accepted, that the claims of justice are satisfied, the the devil’s scepter is shivered, that his wrongful throne is levelled

Give me the assurance that in Christ I died, in him I rose, in his life I live, in his victory I triumph, in his ascension I shall be glorified.

Adorable Redeemer, thou who wast lifted upon a cross art ascended to highest heaven.

Thou, who as Man of Sorrows was crowned with thorns, art now Lord of life wreathed with glory.

Once, no shame more deep than thine, no agony more bitter, no death more cruel.

Now, no exaltation more high, no life more glorious, no advocate more effective.

Thou art in the triumph car leading captive thine enemies behind thee.

What more could be done than thou hast done!

Thy death is my life, thy resurrection my peace, thy ascension my hope, thy prayers my comfort.

Resurrection, a prayer from the Puritan Valley of Vision

I hope that your risen Savior is an encouragement to you today wherever life has taken you.

The whole host of American Christian experience lauds the death of Christ for our sins. In fact, that is what Paul does here: “That Christ died for our sins is of first importance.” We love that, and it is the flagship event for a personal relationship with Jesus. Yet, if you’re like me, we often pass right over the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. We forget that without it, the cross is nothing. More importantly, we forget the power that the resurrection brings to our lives. The resurrection changes our relationships, our work, our emotional life, the things we sacrifice for, the way we parent, and a host of other parts of our lives. If you haven’t taken this truth down into your bones, Paul says, then think about it. Think through all of the ways the resurrection must have happened, and even if you believe it to be true, think on it again.

There are innumerable reasons why the resurrection must have happened, among which Paul lists all of the people that the risen Christ appeared to. Yet, above and beyond those appearances, the whole world subtly but surely proclaims that the resurrection can’t not be true. If it isn’t we’re all hopeless. All of the suffering, pain, and death in our lives will reign forever if the resurrection is not true. Sadness will grow. Satan’s power will flourish. Yet, in the life of the Christian, little bursts of life begin to explode. The little deaths in our lives turn to little injections of heaven into a broken world. The non-Christian can’t know this, because it is only the work of the Holy Spirit, yet the longing is still there in every heart. To use the words of Mumford and Sons…

“And if your strife strikes at your sleep
Remember spring swaps snow for leaves
You’ll be happy and wholesome again
When the city clears and sun ascends.”

You see for the Christian, we not only embody the death of Christ, we take on the resurrection as well. If you find yourself closer to death than resurrection right now, take heart, for He is Risen!

Kyle

This is just one of the many delightful stories that were born out of the nativity. There are numerous moments during November and early December that I bemoan the nativity and wonder why we continue to put so much time and energy into it, yet every year I remember why we do.  Again this year I heard several first time “nativity-goers” exclaim that it was the most wonderful thing they had seen in a long time, that although they didn’t know just what to expect, our rendition of a trip through the history of redemption exploded their expectations. We even had over a hundred and fifty new “likes” on our facebook page in the few days following the nativity. So, yet again, in redemptive fashion, all of the blood, sweat, and tears of many workdays and workweeks has produced a broken splendor.

And that, of course, is what we are, a broken splendor. The gospel humbles us into the dust, and at the very same time exalts us into the heavens (Keller). In Romans 5 Paul tells us that “while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.” There are two glorious extremes in this verse that will change our lives if we let them. Christ not only died for us, he died for us precisely when we were ungodly. We carry these two great realities with us for the rest of our lives. At the very same time we are miserably sinful, more than we could ever know or imagine, yet also more loved, cherished, and adored than we could ever dream. We are justified sinners; honored failures; broken splendors.

If you are looking for something to meditate on for the first part of this year, take this truth deep down into your heart. Let it soak into your bones, so that pride diminishes and joy slowly but surely grows. For, “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ dies for us.”

Happy New Year,

Kyle

Isaiah 30:18

Kyle and I live in a quaint apartment downtown. We enjoy our personal space and particularly our respective recliners in the living room. There are many days where it seems if we can just make it to our recliners, all the problems of the day will fade away and we will be wrapped in the comfort of home. While this is not necessarily a false comfort, in the event of a catastrophe or deep personal anguish, a recliner doesn’t quite cut it. In the same way, our lives are filled with sources of assurance and comfort that are not inherently bad, but running to comfort or pleasure or money for refuge in times of trouble would be like running to a recliner during a nuclear holocaust. When we cling to idols to sustain us, we ignore the root of our problems and attempt to treat the symptoms instead of realizing the gravity of our disease.

God’s response to the Israelites in Isaiah 30 gives us a clear picture of His kindness in spite of our rebellion. Instead of allowing the Assyrians to pillage Jerusalem, God is gracious and merciful to His people and sends an angel to wipe out their enemies. Just like Israel, God does not make us clean up and get our act together before we come to Him. Our Creator cannot wait to give us the gift of his grace even when we have sprinted away from Him in rebellion. Just like Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh, we fill our lives with the stress and futility of insufficient shelter. At the first sign of trouble, our shacks we have built out of financial security or popularity or health tumble to the ground and leave us exposed. Instead of leaving us to fend for ourselves, our Heavenly Father cannot wait to invite us into His house. The assurance found in the House of God dwarfs the temporary comfort of my recliner and last so much longer than Kyle’s afternoon nap in his chair. In this advent season as we give and receive gifts, remember the excitement God feels when He gives us His grace and kindness. When you watch your kids’ faces as they marvel at the joy of the season, remember our Father and how He delights in giving us assurance.

Ben