OUT OF THE DARKNESS INTO THE LIGHT

A few years ago, while living in North Florida, I took the kids fishing at Watertown Lake. Like all of the lakes there in North Florida the water was very dark. They say it’s from all of the tannins in the oaks. I think it’s beautiful- like a tea that has been steeping for thousands of years. The lake has a long, L-shaped fishing pier that goes out beyond its weedy fringes into deeper water, and after the kids spilled out of the van, my oldest, Bowden, led the charge, clomping out over its rough wooden boards. He ran the length of the pier, with his younger siblings trailing out behind him like a sled dog team. They ran in order of age- Lucy, Jack and little Miles who was just four years old at the time

I watched as Bowden baited his hook and then cast a line into the water. His younger siblings also watched, and then they came running back to me clamoring for their own rods, which I had been carrying for them. I set up shop near the middle of the pier. Lucy  moved a few yards off to my left and gave her new fishing rod, which she had received as a Christmas gift, its inaugural cast.  I was busy untangling Jack and Miles’ fishing rods and baiting their hooks while they peered over the side of the dock looking for “alligator bubbles.” Going fishing with small children requires a lot of patience. Their lines are forever getting tangled, and they can't bait a hook or cast or wait patiently. Basically, they can't fish. Fishing with little kids is really more of an investment in the future. The hope is that they will grow up loving fishing with Dad and that when they are older it will become something for us all to do together. I had finally gotten their lines untangled and was busily baiting their hooks when I heard Miles say something about “bubbles.” I looked up just in time to see him slip head-first off the side of the pier into 10 feet of coffee-black water.

Jack instantly began shrieking at the top of his lungs, “He fell in! He fell in!” while jumping up and down in a tearful frenzy of fear and desperation. Lucy dropped her rod and yelled, “Daddy! Daddy!” A woman, who was also fishing just a few yards to my left and who had also seen Miles fall in, cried out “O, dear Lord, have mercy.” The black water suddenly looked sinister as it swallowed Miles up. Of course, I jumped into the lake after him. The adrenaline took over completely. I didn’t feel the cold of the water or the weight of my clothes. In such a moment a parent exists for just one purpose. I tried to open my eyes underwater, but I couldn’t see anything. So, I moved my arms back and forth until my fingers felt the bundle of sweatshirt and hair and warmth that was my little boy. I grabbed him with more strength than was necessary and brought him back into the sunlight.  I delivered him into the waiting arms of bystanders who hefted Miles back up onto the pier. By the time I had regained the pier myself, Sarah had already whisked Miles away to the van where he was being dried off and wrapped in a blanket. My heart threatened to beat right out of my chest.

But later that night, after I had put the kids to bed, I opened the book I was reading and found a bookmark that Miles had made for me earlier that morning. He had drawn a cross on a piece of paper and had proudly presented it to me. “The cross stands for Jesus,” he had explained. “You can use it for a bookmark if you want.” My heart ached as my mind filled with dread at the thought of what could have been. Then it flooded with relief that Miles was tucked safely into his bed down the hall. It felt like when you wake up from a nightmare and for a few moments you are not sure which world is real.

What if he had died? What if I had been on another part of the pier? What if nobody had seen him fall in? What if? That was too terrible a thought to entertain, and too ugly to look at for long. If Miles had died that day I’m not sure I would have had it in me to come back to the house. I would have wanted to seal the place off and never go there again. I can’t imagine the pain of seeing his bath toys gathered quietly near the drain, or his pajamas hanging out of the side of the hamper, or the spot near the front door where he had scribbled on the wall, or that bookmark he had given me. My life came all too close to being divided into before and after we went to that lake.

But he didn’t die. I jumped in after him, found him, and brought him back.

And this is a picture of Christmas.

I had told Miles not to go too near the edge, just as God told Adam not to eat of the forbidden tree, but when Miles fell in I did not stand on the edge of the dock and say, “Serves him right!” No, motivated by a fierce love, I jumped in after him. That was the behavior of a sinful man, how much more could we expect from the God who is love and righteousness. When all of mankind fell into a place of dark separation and death God jumped in after us as well.

Christmas is a celebration of the moment when Jesus jumped in after us.

Miles was powerless to save himself. He could not swim. He needed someone to come to him, find him in the cold and the dark, and deliver him back into the light. This is also a picture of our condition when we were saved. We were cut off. Hopeless. Helpless. Utterly lost in the darkness. We had neither the wisdom nor the power to move toward God, but he came to us. That coming to us is Christmas!

This is what Luke 1:78-79 says, speaking of Jesus, “…because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.” Colossians 1:12-14 says, “…giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”

"I HOPE JESUS WAITS UNTIL UNTIL AFTER CHRISTMAS."

A couple of years ago as I was driving my son to school we were listening to the news on the radio. After one particularly sad story I said out loud, “I hope Jesus comes back soon.”

 My son answered, “I hope He waits until after Christmas.”

I could relate because when I was a boy I would often have similar thoughts whenever someone spoke about Jesus coming back. It’s not that I didn’t know that this way of thinking was wrong. I did. I just didn’t feel the wrongness of it. Sure, I believed Jesus was going to come back, and I knew intellectually that His appearing should be preferred over anything and yet still it could not be said that I truly longed for it. In my heart of hearts, I thought of Jesus’ return not as the “blessed hope” (Titus 2:13) but as the end of all I had hoped to achieve and experience in life. 

So, even though I now long for Jesus’ return more than anything, I could relate to what my son had said. I used to feel much the same.

I felt the need to say something to him, but was struggling to find the words that would help him not just grasp the truth about Jesus coming back but which would actually stir within him a longing for it.

We drove on in silence for a moment and then I asked my son what his favorite part of the school day was. Predictably, he said “recess.”

“It’s the only part I like,” he added.

“What if you got to school today,” I asked, “and right as you were starting your math lesson, they called your name over the intercom and told you to report to the office? And when you got to the office your Mom and I were there and we told you that we were pulling you out of school--- not just for the day, not just for the week, and not just for the rest of the school year, but forever! And what’s more, the reason we were pulling you out was because, we were going to take you on a tour of the world’s amusement parks. We were going to ride every roller coaster in the world, travel, have adventures and eat the most amazing foods!”

“If that happened,” I asked, “would you say to me, ‘I wish you had waited until after recess to come get me?”

“No,” he said, “of course not!”

When Jesus comes it will be like that!  It will not be the end of our fun but the beginning of a higher, more excellent, joy-filled existence with God. It’ll make Christmas break or anything else we might prefer over his coming look pretty shabby. The best experiences in this life are but a pale foreshadowing of the joy to come. Look forward to that day! It’ll be amazing!

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. Psalm 16:11

“Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day--and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.”

2 Timothy 4:8

CHOCOLATE IN THE NOSE IS NOT AS GOOD AS CHOCOLATE IN THE MOUTH

When my wife, Sarah, and I were newlyweds I had a job working as a police officer in a small city up near the Canadian border in New England, and she got a job working the front desk at a motel. My shift would sometimes begin at 5:30 in the morning, and, because we only had one car, I would get up early and walk the mile or so into work so Sarah would have the car to get to work herself later on. My walk always took me past the city’s industrial park, which was home to a chocolate factory. Occasionally I would walk past as they were beginning production for the day and emanating from that factory was a heavenly aroma of cocoa that filled the whole south end of town. It was almost like the very air was flavored.

Thinking about those early morning walks and the smell of cocoa on the breeze reminds me of Christmas. Sometimes, at this time of year, I think we can catch just the slightest hint of what Heaven will be like. Christmas is a time when far flung loved ones are gathered home, and there’s a prevailing atmosphere of cozy togetherness--- The lights and decorations, the excitement, the special food and music, festive gatherings, gift giving, a merry sense of wonder, and special times of worship--- all of these things bring to mind that smell of chocolate as I walked down main street. It blew across town stirring within me a longing for the real thing. The smell of chocolate is good, but its taste is better. Chocolate in the nose is not as good as chocolate in the mouth. Christmas stirs within me a similar longing. This season is good but ultimately it points to something better and more substantial that I long to sink my teeth into, and that something is heaven. When Jesus comes back we will satisfy the hunger that Christmas arouses in our hearts. And It won’t be just for a season, it will be for always.

For nonbelievers tis “THE SEASON” to be jolly. It’s just a season, it’s temporary, and once December 26th arrives the tree is hauled to the curb, the credit card bill comes in the mail, the toy breaks, everyone is sick of the songs and sick from eating too much. All the goodwill and merriness burns away like so much mist before the sun. For those of us who know the full meaning of Christmas, however, this special season, although wonderful and exciting, is really just a pale foreshadowing of the pleasures yet to come. It is sad to think that so many will only ever celebrate the smell of Christmas, but will never actually taste it in its fullness. Christmas, and all the other highwater marks of earthly joy, are all just heaven on the breeze, but only those who have put their trust in Jesus for salvation will ever experience these things in their fullness.

So, brothers and sisters, during this Christmas season as we reflect on the first time that Jesus came into the world, and look forward to the promised day when he returns, let all of your celebration be full of joy and let it fill you with anticipation for the coming day when Jesus will gather all of his far flung loved ones home to be with Him. As Psalm 16:11 says, “You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

TEMPTED BY THE TREE

I remember one Christmas when we were living in the San Jacinto mountains of Southern California; I found there in the woods, way up on the side of the mountain, a white fir of perfect height and form. If ever there was a tree that begged to be cut down and hauled home for Christmas that was it. Most wild trees thereabouts were scraggly and unfit, but this one stood in the center of a sun-drenched clearing like the belle of a yuletide ball. Beautiful, thick boughs with waxy green needles tapered to a sharp point like a church steeple, and its branches swept out over the snow in such a way that it did not require much imagination to picture brightly wrapped packages underneath.

But, alas, this tree was just a pebble's throw inside the County Park where cutting down trees was strictly prohibited. Like my ancestors, Adam and Eve, I was tempted by the tree. Am I not made of dust? Money was tight, as it always seems to be, and the trees at the lot were wildly overpriced, as they always seem to be. "You could put that money towards presents for the kids," I reasoned. I returned often to the tree in my thoughts and even a few times in person. Once, with a saw in my hand. I felt weak, like Gollum, in its presence, but, in the end, I did not transgress.

It was the reason, however, for the scowl on my face when I forked over $50.00 for a dried up, inferior shrub of a Douglas Fir that we found on a lot in Temecula.

I came back the following year to discover that someone else had cut it down. Truth be told, I was relieved.

EMMANUEL- THE BARRIER DESTROYING GOD

In 1996 I witnessed the changing of the guard at the royal palace of Prince Albert II of Monaco. The spectacle was impressive, especially against the imposing backdrop of the royal residence. At precisely 11:55am Les Carabiniers du Prince, the royal guard, paraded in front of the palace’s main gate. They were dressed sharply in their dress uniforms and had M16 rifles on their shoulders. I wondered if they were loaded.  After much marching, pivoting, saluting and presenting of arms the old guard replaced the new who took their place standing at attention by the gate. 

The Prince himself was in residence on that morning. I know that because someone pointed out a white standard with a red insignia that floated lazily atop one of the palace’s soaring ramparts, and explained that it was the personal flag of Prince Albert II and when it was raised above the palace it meant that he was inside. I wondered what he was doing in there- watching TV? Drinking coffee? Taking a bath? Who knows?- and as I thought about that I was suddenly impressed by the many barriers that kept common people like me away from going into the presence of Prince Albert II. All of the walls, locked doors and M16’s were designed to keep people from entering into the presence of the Prince of Monaco.

How different is the Prince of Peace? We had been walled off behind an impenetrable wall of sin, and He behind a wall of holiness, but, according to Ephesians 2:12-13, Jesus came into the world to tear down the barriers that separated us from Him.  He was called Emmanuel, which means “God with Us.” Because Jesus was born in a stable, among the stink of animals and laid in a manger, the humble shepherds found no barrier keeping them from entering into His presence. What if he had been born in an imposing palace? With guards? The Shepherds would not have been able to come in and behold Him as they did. Jesus had lowered Himself to such a degree that He had become like one of them, a servant (Phil. 2:7) living among the animals. Only those who were too prideful to enter into the stink and the dirt of that place experienced a barrier that barred them from coming to Jesus. It is still the same today. There is no barrier but pride that keeps us from coming to Jesus. Only those who humble themselves and confess their need for a Savior can enter into His presence, but those who pridefully refuse to bend their need and confess their need cannot.

Philippians 2:3-11

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.