Who do we say that he is? "Prepare the way of the LORD"

Beginnings are important. Researchers and problem-solvers try to trace things to their beginnings. Authors and speakers know that their first words will set the tone for all that follows. The Gospel of Mark chooses this quote as the launching point for explaining Jesus:

"a voice of one calling in the desert, prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him." (Mark 1:3)

When Mark identified John the Baptist with Isaiah's "voice calling in the desert", Mark names John as the herald announcing the coming of the LORD (see Isaiah 40). The word "Lord" in our language or in ancient Greek may be ambiguous, but the word "LORD" in the original Hebrew was not ambiguous at all. It was the holy name of God, not to be casually pronounced, a name reserved for God. When Mark identified "the voice calling in the desert" as John the Baptist, Mark thereby implies that the one John announces is the long-awaited LORD from Isaiah's prophecy, the God whose arrival was good news, "good tidings", or (in older English) gospel. 

There are accounts of Jesus' life that introduce Jesus at his birth. Mark's introduction starts with his identity. Over the centuries we may have lost sight of the boldness of that introduction, but a first-century Jewish audience would probably get his point: the most joyful event in the world was unfolding, one which could not leave the world unchanged. God's arrival in our world is the good news, and the kingdom of God is among us. 

Advent: What does God look forward to?

While he (Joseph) considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:20-21)

This week we read what happened when Joseph learned of Mary's pregnancy. We know of Joseph's thoughts from Matthew, and of Mary's from Luke. Here we also see the Lord's thoughts through the voice of the angel: the point of all this is to save God's people from their sins. 

When I hear about saving "his people from their sins", the plural makes it easy for me to think of someone else's sins. That's human nature -- or self-preservation, if you'd rather. If we acknowledge our own faults at all, it is still easy to believe they are caused by someone else's faults. (Say what you will about Genesis 3:12's historicity, it has realism about peoples' reactions.) But what if the problem isn't your sins *or* my sins. What if it's both, and our tendency to blame each other, and the whole web of sinfulness that undermines all our human interactions? What if it's everything that keeps the world tense and fearful, hostile and distrustful? 

God's plan is to save us from all that. And whether I'm ready to acknowledge it or not, I need it deeply. 

Lord, come quickly in our day!

Advent: Looking forward to Restoration

Looking forward to the Day of the Lord, the prophets described how all things would be restored. All things, not just the things we usually consider. Deserts would blossom. Arthritic hands and old knees would be restored. The fearful would be encouraged. Disabilities would be healed. Danger and captivity would become things of the past. All this would be brought about because of the Lord's arrival.

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,

the desert shall rejoice and blossom;

like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly,

and rejoice with joy and singing.

The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it,

the majesty of Carmel and Sharon.

They shall see the glory of the Lord,

the majesty of our God.

Strengthen the weak hands,

and make firm the feeble knees.

Say to those who are of a fearful heart,

“Be strong, do not fear!

Here is your God.

He will come with vengeance,

with terrible recompense.

He will come and save you.”

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,

and the ears of the deaf unstopped;

then the lame shall leap like a deer,

and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.

For waters shall break forth in the wilderness,

and streams in the desert;

the burning sand shall become a pool,

and the thirsty ground springs of water;

the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp,

the grass shall become reeds and rushes.

A highway shall be there,

and it shall be called the Holy Way;

the unclean shall not travel on it,

but it shall be for God’s people;

no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray.

No lion shall be there,

nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it;

they shall not be found there,

but the redeemed shall walk there.

And the ransomed of the Lord shall return,

and come to Zion with singing;

everlasting joy shall be upon their heads;

they shall obtain joy and gladness,

and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

 

Lord, come speedily in our day!

Advent: Looking forward to safety and security

Advent is a time to focus on what is coming. It is easy to focus on problems in the world, or plans of our own. In today's lectionary reading from the prophets, Isaiah describes the days of the Lord by focusing on the ruler who is to come: 

The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him,
the spirit of wisdom and understanding,
the spirit of counsel and might,
the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.
His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord.

In him, justice spreads over the world. Righteousness will be the undoing of the wicked. The poor and oppressed will receive their relief. 

He shall not judge by what his eyes see,
or decide by what his ears hear;
but with righteousness he shall judge the poor,
and decide with equity for the meek of the earth;

he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.
Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist,
and faithfulness the belt around his loins.

In that day, the natural order will have a complete safety even for the young: 

The wolf shall live with the lamb,
the leopard shall lie down with the kid,
the calf and the lion and the fatling together,
and a little child shall lead them.

The cow and the bear shall graze,
their young shall lie down together;
and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

As much as this prophecy is full of hope, it did not start out with worldly power. Time and again, God starts out gentler than we would expect: 

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse,
and a branch shall grow out of his roots.

This happens when the ruler comes with the spirit of the Lord. 

May it come speedily in our day!

Advent: Looking forward to peace

Focus. Advent is about looking forward, calling us to focus on God's promises. So many things compete for our attention that it takes an effort to clear out the clamor and focus on what God has said. Life can have too much noise, too much distraction, for us to hear the words of God clearly unless we mute our worries for a time and listen. 

For out of Zion shall go forth instruction,
   and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.

He shall judge between the nations,
   and shall arbitrate for many peoples;

they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
   and their spears into pruning hooks;

nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
   neither shall they learn war any more.

(From Isaiah 2)

I consider what these words would mean today: "They shall not learn war anymore." No more boot camps. No more recruiting and training soldiers. No more seething hostility and debate about who stole whose homeland. No more shockingly large military budgets. No more disturbing loss of life. The nations' disputes shall be settled by an arbiter who knows how to deliver justice: "He shall judge between the nations, arbitrate for many peoples." 

And all the resources that had been dedicated to destruction and hostility will become resources of growth and prosperity: even the weapons will be scrapped and turned to other uses. "They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks." In our days, the money channeled to war could bring food to the hungry and warmth to the cold. We are told that the threat of nuclear war is closer than it has been in many years -- yet even those weapons could be repurposed or dismantled one day. 

Before we lay down our weapons, the hearts of the world would have to change. I expect that nothing short of God's presence will do that. 

And so here at the beginning of advent, we look forward to God's presence. 

Advent 4: The fullness of time

We live in a culture that does not do well with time. Sure, we're obsessed with time. We pay close attention to time. We are expected to make good use of time -- and may think of that in terms of over-scheduling. And we like to do things faster. So another approach to time may not make sense to us. 

Jesus taught us about the kingdom of God, explaining that it is like things that cannot be rushed: growing seeds in a field, growing a mustard plant in a garden, baking bread. They take their time. Going faster can spoil things that are growing at their own pace. 

In this week's reading in church, we read of Mary and Elizabeth -- both pregnant -- meeting each other. Babies are another thing that takes time. They take the better part of a year to grow to full term. We know how long to expect, and the end of the wait is usually blessed, in the fullness of time. 

God challenges our faith in his promises to be as fixed as the faith of a pregnant woman: someone who knows that the fullness of time will come, and at the end of it a child is born. The present hardships are not to be compared with the good that is to come; in fact, they will be forgotten in the light of what comes after.

Come, Lord Jesus!

Advent 3: It's the waiting that gets us

God promised Abraham a son. And he couldn't wait! So he had a son, Ishmael, by his servant-woman Hagar. The son of the promise, Isaac, came later. That impatience has complicated the history of the lands inhabited by their descendants for millennia.

In the desert, God promised to lead the Israelites, and Moses went up the holy mountain for 40 days. The Israelites couldn't wait. And so they made a golden calf as an idol.

In the Garden of Gethsemane, the disciples had a different kind of trouble waiting: While Jesus went to pray, they fell asleep. 

As human beings, patience is not our strong suit. When God asks us to watch and wait, we either don't watch, or we don't wait. Sometimes we try to force a miracle to happen on our own terms and our own deadline. Sometimes, when something important is happening right in front of our eyes, we don't realize and aren't paying attention.

Part of Advent is waiting -- where we remember not just Jesus' original arrival in our world, but look forward to his return. Until then we have been asked to watch and wait, among our other tasks. The Gospel of Matthew records Jesus teaching parables that I think of as the Parables of the Long Absence: where a whole collection of sayings and parables drive home the point that the wait will be so long that the wait itself becomes a problem (Matthew 24:44-25:30). We can't say he didn't warn us. 

The wait is a temptation to force our own solutions, or find other solutions, or give up our expectations. That's what people do, when we are asked to wait a long time. But even when we try to force a solution, God still has his own. After Abraham had Ishmael, he still had Isaac. After the golden calf was turned to dust, God still led his people, still sealed his covenant with Israel. Those who have kept their expectations in God's promises have seen God prove himself faithful.

Advent 2: The Wisdom of Hope

I remember watching a football game some time ago, professionals playing. The team with possession needed a big play. The receivers went deep, but they were tightly covered. They kept scrambling to get open, but the people covering them were sticking close. Meanwhile the quarterback's defenders broke, and the quarterback was dodging erratically to try to stay upright against the people who had gotten through the line. He was nearly tackled more than once. Still the receivers were scrambling to get or stay open. It's not an unfamiliar scene in football, but this particular down kept going, the scenario playing out longer than it typically does, so it stuck in my mind. The quarterback persisted and eventually found an opening -- and found one of the receivers who had shaken free of his pursuer by just enough. The quarterback completed the pass to the open receiver. Those who supported that team were elated at the victory. It was a game-changer, a momentum-changer -- but it was not luck. None of it would have happened if any of the players on the one team had given up. For such a physical game, that play had a large psychological element. The receiver trusted his quarterback, or at least still hoped. Hope was not delusion, it was a shrewd play.

It is not unusual to hear people mocking the idea of hope as wishful thinking, delusion, or mere stubbornness. Cynicism is often mislabeled as realism. I can relate: the one play from a long-forgotten football game stuck in my mind precisely because I thought it was silly that they were still trying after everything had clearly gone against them. I wondered if they would accept defeat graciously. They may have been mature enough to do that; I'll never know because they were professional enough not to assume a loss just because they had more obstacles than any one player could overcome. Even when we advocate for hope, it can be difficult to catch sight of that clear opening that we're fighting for. Sometimes it can be hard to believe that our effort makes a difference. 

And yet it does. Our action -- based on our hope -- makes a difference to ourselves and to the people around us. Despair is a psy-op of evil. We live in a time when some rising causes of deaths are labeled as "deaths of despair" and yet people still mock hope. Depression -- in which a large component is adopting despair into the worldview -- is considered a major mental illness, yet people still manage not to consider the essentially healthy nature of hope. 

The reason it is easy to lose hope is because it is easy to misplace hope: to base it on someone or something that will fall. But for those who trust in God, hope is a shrewd play. 

Advent 1: A promise that we trust

In the general thought of congregations that I've attended, "The valley of the shadow of death" means this passing world, as does "The great tribulation." A sober or even gloomy assessment of this world is not limited to the ancient world; far from it. Some modern publications seem to revel in talk of doom, blame, and fear. And so it is well that we interrupt this scheduled programming for an important announcement: God keeps his promises. And he loves us, frightened little kittens* as he might see us. We're frightened because we know that human solutions will eventually fail us (see: estate planning, and insurance).

The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: "The LORD is our righteousness." (Jeremiah 33:14-16)

Those who believe in the promises made by the God of Israel dare to hope: not in our own names but in the Lord's. It allows us to let go of the fear, to breathe more deeply, and to look forward to the days to come.

---

* Hatchlings would be more scriptural, with the gathering chicks beneath the wings, but I find kittens more relatable if you'll pardon the license. 

Advent: Season of Hope

Few things in life are as dark as losing hope. Without hope, our actions seem pointless and our motivation fades. Trying harder can cover for awhile, but it's not the same as hope. Trying to be optimistic can help for a time, but trying to look on the bright side is not the same as hope. Hope is the anticipation of something that will bring relief or meaning or light, will bring some kind of blessing or benefit.

We try to keep hope in front of our eyes. Many people keep photos of loved ones as placeholders until they see them again. Some people keep countdown clocks showing the number of days til a big event. Here in advent, we look forward to Christmas. We each have our own ways. We may keep an eye on the calendar, or select a thoughtful gift for a loved one, or decorate a tree, or plan a celebration, or hang Christmas lighting. The beauty and anticipation of Christmas are just as legitimate as keeping a photo of a loved one. When we are motivated by hope, the actions make hope an active part of our lives.

Christmas reminds us of life, new birth, new beginnings. When Christ was born, we could see the beginning of the new creation before our eyes. God who makes all things new has included us in his plans for blessing. When he creates a new heaven and a new earth, he will not neglect to renew our hearts as well. When light comes to the world, it comes for us into our own minds as well. Peace and joy may seem like isolated points of brightness struggling against the dark for now, but it will not be that way forever. Christ is born as the king, and the songs that the angels sang are just the beginning. Those angels are waiting to sing those songs again, not only to a handful of shepherds but to all of us at the fulfillment of days. Joy will become the norm. Peace will become the standard.

It is the renewal of all things when his kingdom comes. In Christ, we have reason to hope.

Sisyphus, Groundhog Day, and Solomon

A brief break from the current series, probably posting something more edifying than data analysis for the rest of Advent. 

In Greek myth, Sisyphus was the fellow condemned by the pagan gods to spend eternity moving a boulder up a hill -- only to watch it roll down again, so that he must start over at a job that he knew was pointless. A lot of us can relate to that feeling of endlessly working at a futile task, of that despair or even bitterness.

In the movie Groundhog Day, the main character found himself trapped endlessly repeating the same pointless and silly day. After many failed attempts to break the cycle, the main character found the real escape by accident as he persisted in trying to make the most of the day he had. He was slower to despise other people, slower to hate himself and his job. He became less judgmental, less cynical and therefore less arrogant. By the end, he made a genuine human connection and found his day worthwhile.

Solomon -- reputed to be the author of the book of Ecclesiastes -- wrote his frustration that any gains made in his lifetime were likely to be undone in future generations. Solomon reasoned that if God exists, then there is vindication for the long hours -- and long years -- of doing the right thing when nobody knew or cared (or faulted us for it). There is a right recognition of all our efforts, and that they have not ultimately been lost.

As we look outside of our endless cycle of days for some sign that it matters, I find myself glad to see Christmas on the horizon: a sign that human life matters to God. It's a sign that God keeps his promises. A sign that we are not stuck in an endless loop waiting for a crash. The manger, like the empty tomb, points to a hope that God is faithful, and because of that life has meaning.

Advent 4: A child is born

Of all the joyful celebrations, there are few that rival the birth of a new child.

Yesterday (as I write this), a friend of mine needed to organize her things and so briefly handed me her daughter Molly, born four months ago. Holding her awakened that deep human need to love.

I find that holding an infant is always something of a spiritual experience for me. Molly harbors no hate and no suspicion. She brings no ulterior motive. She practices no unkindness, attempts no manipulation, brings no emotional risk other than having my heart stolen. I am free to set aside any vigilance against attacks or traps, and simply connect. Little Molly is at the age where she can make meaningful eye contact, and can smile. Freed from any need to watch my back, I can experience genuine amazement at a remarkable little person. Holding an infant reminds me how much other human connections may be tainted in comparison -- and wondering how much of the cause is within myself. But the longer I hold a child, the more this self-cynicism passes -- not because it's wrong but because there are better things to do. No matter what's in me, the infant offers a fresh start. I find myself free to be more relaxed, more authentic, more joyful in return. There's a connection to be made, and nothing to poison it.

In reaching out to us, God chose weakness. Some scoff at the idea of God in a human baby: foolish! But the weakness of God is stronger than our strength, and the foolishness of God is wiser than our wisdom. That purity that I experience when holding an infant is something that many of us also experience when we are around nature, or any time that we find ourselves in the presence of the holy. Considering God as an infant reminds me how much my other connections with Him may be tainted in comparison, wondering how much of the cause is with me, and finally letting the self-cynicism pass. There's a connection to be made, and nothing to poison it. There's a fresh start: For unto us a child is born.

Advent 3: If Not for Mary?

God has chosen certain people for very specific roles at different times. Consider Abraham: without Abraham, how and when would monotheism have gained a lasting presence in the world? Or Moses: without Moses, how and when would the world have gained the idea that the worship that pleases God is when we treat each other with honesty and compassion? In both of these cases, Christians will see the hand of God -- and yet God chose to work through a person. We can honestly say that the world is different because of the people through whom God works, like Abraham and Moses. And in both cases they were just the beginning, and the world began to fill with a stream of people who saw their service to God in terms of honesty and compassion towards their neighbors.

It's unfortunate that so many arguments have occurred surrounding Mary, mother of Jesus. She also holds one of the era-defining roles in history. And the virgin consented to remain a virgin while others would think of her as an immoral woman. That is so different from the way of the world, where so many of us would gladly settle for the appearance of decency, for hiding our sins, if only we could keep our reputations. Here's the temptation: Will the appearance of being good become more important to us than the reality? For Mary, the reality was more important than the appearance. In some small way she shared in her son's suffering, if only for a short time: numbered among the transgressors, despised and rejected without deserving it.

And again God chose to work through a person. The world is different because of Mary. "Wait," someone might say, "All she did was bring Jesus into the world." Well, that's like saying "All Abraham did was move to a new place." Some of the world-changers didn't do complicated things. Some of the controversy about Mary has been this: By focusing on her, do people take credit away from God? How much mention of her is appropriate? In Scripture, she focuses not on herself but on her son. That's exactly how she brought light into the world.

Since everything happens because of God, it is easy to think that we do not matter. But God has chosen to make a world in which we matter. God typically works through people. When he heals people or rescues people, it's generally done through someone else with human flesh and blood. Our struggles matter. When he feeds the hungry or visits the sick, it's through us. Even in matters of redemption, at every point we see that people matter. That is, after all, the point of redemption.

In dark times, we are called to bring light into the darkness. We are the vessel that carries Christ. For those hostile to Christ, we carry a quiet and humble form of Christ: feeding the hungry, visiting the sick, and serving God by honesty and compassion towards our neighbors. Because God works through us, and we matter.

Advent 2: Centuries ahead of his opponents ...

Reading Matthew's account of Jesus' conception and birth, the second chapter recalls prophecy after prophecy of God's plans for the age of the Messiah. Centuries before, the prophets wrote: "born of a maiden ... called Immanuel (God-With-Us)", in "Bethlehem of Judea". But if Jesus was to be King of the Jews, then the man who held that title wouldn't keep it forever, or pass it to his own descendants. So he set out to kill an infant.

At that point in the narrative, it is easy -- and right -- to look with disgust on someone who would kill a child. We see a lot of evil in this world, and if we didn't already know how that story ended, it would be easy to worry if enough evil could overcome God's purposes for the world's redemption. How could God make so much depend on a baby who couldn't keep himself safe? Joseph and Mary were not incredible super-heroes. They were no match for the soldiers dispatched by a murderous king.

We know what happened: in a dream, an angel warned Joseph to take the family to Egypt. But the soldiers didn't know the exact identity of the child, and still killed the remaining boys of similar age in that town. And ... centuries before, the prophets wrote: "out of Egypt I will call my son", and "a voice is heard ... Rachel weeping for her children, and will not be consoled." God knew. He knew the evil of his enemies. He knew their plans. He knew how low they would go. While his enemies were trying to undermine God's plans, in reality they were fulfilling prophecies as God foresaw how they would try -- and fail -- to undermine his plans. So even their attempts to stop him were confirmations of God's predictions.

One reason we can worry about evil is because we have a suspicion that it could get out of hand. We worry that it is out of hand already. We recognize that the level of evil in our world is sometimes beyond our ability to overcome it (as it was beyond Joseph and Mary). We worry -- in some quiet, unrecognized part of our minds -- that it is beyond God, that things have gotten away from him. (That thought is behind some streams of atheism, as the common answer for why they do not believe in God: it's the evil in the world.) Almost all Christians agree on this: evil is contrary to God's will, by definition. If God does not desire evil -- and here it comes anyway -- does that mean that things are beyond his control?

I think that is one reason why God tells us some events in advance. He knew what his enemies would do then. He knows what evil is doing now. He knows what evil will do tomorrow. He told us in advance, centuries in advance. Evil has not outsmarted God, has not taken him by surprise, has not thwarted his plans. At this point in the world's story, it is easy -- and right -- to look with disgust on the evil in the world. But if we have listened to what Mary and Joseph's -- and God's -- son said, we may be a little less self-righteous, a little slower to blame God for not having eradicated us yet. We may begin to suspect that God is not a slacker, but patient. We may find ourselves trusting him.

Advent 1: The peace-bond

I think sometimes we forget, those of us who live in "melting-pot" countries, how much of human history has been lived in tension with people of different nations, where different bloodlines and different tribes meant the risk of war, where the enmity ran in the blood and was part of the cultural heritage. The ancients had a way of creating peace, of cementing a bond between two nations: to join the bloodlines. And in our melting-pot age, we generally only notice negative things about these alliance-marriages. But if we can drop our modern arrogance towards earlier cultures, we can see how an arranged marriage looks through their eyes:

                           ... The highly-famed queen,
Peace-tie of peoples, oft passed through the building,
Cheered the young troopers; she oft tendered a hero
A beautiful ring-band, ere she went to her sitting.

Beowulf, XXIX: 54-57

The woman became both queen and ambassador. And her child changed the relations further: the future king of the tribe had the blood of both nations. No warrior of either people could take up arms against the other without turning against their own.

In creating peace between God and man, Jesus is that child. He is the Word of God, revered by the angels, and the Son of Man. The ancients might see him differently, the mediator between God and man: The powers of heaven would not turn against man, because man includes one of God's own. The people of earth who acknowledge Jesus can no longer turn against God, for Jesus' sake. To turn against God becomes a form of self-betrayal now, because Christ is also one of our own.

For unto us a son is born, unto us a son is given, and the government will be upon his shoulder. His name will be called: Wonderful, Counselor, Almighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Heaven and nature sing

Nature's sounds tend to have a rhythm, from the birds to the wind to the crickets. The lyrics of "Joy to the World", where "heaven and nature sing" have always resonated with me. Here is a collection of some verses in the Bible about nature joining in the praise of God, beginning with the Psalms that were probably the most immediate sources of the hymn "Joy to the World":

Let the heavens rejoice and the earth be glad,
Let the sea and all within it thunder
The fields and everything in them exult
Let all the trees of the forest rejoice
At the presence of the LORD, for He is coming,
For He is coming to rule the earth,
He will rule the world with justice,
and its peoples with faithfulness.
(Psalm 96:11-13)

All the ends of the earth beheld the salvation of our God.
Raise a shout to the LORD, all the earth,
break into joyous songs of praise!!
Sing praise to the LORD with the lyre,
with the lyre and melodious song
With trumpets and the blast of the horn
raise a shout before the LORD, the King.
Let the sea roar, and all within it;
The world and its inhabitants
Let the floods clap their hands
The mountains sing joyously together
At the presence of the LORD
For He is coming to rule the earth;
He will rule the world justly,
And its peoples with equity.
(Psalm 98:3-9)

The floods (streams) have lifted up, O LORD,
have lifted up their voice;
the floods lift up their waves.
(Psalm 93:3)

The heavens declare the glory of God;
the firmament shows the work of his hands.
Day unto day utters speech;
night unto night displays knowledge.
There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard.
(Psalm 19:1-3)

If they should keep silence,
The stones will cry out!
(Luke 19:40)

When Gabriel came

There are only a few times in the Bible in which an angel is named. Gabriel is named twice in the book of Daniel, and twice in the book of Luke. In Daniel, he famously introduces the prophecy of the "seventy sevens" -- the 490 years until the coming of the Anointed. Daniel meets Gabriel in this way:

While I was still speaking in prayer, the man Gabriel whom I had seen in the vision at the beginning, flying swiftly, touched me -- it was about the time of the evening sacrifice. (Daniel 9:21)

In Luke, he is first seen telling Zechariah the priest that his prayers have been heard, that he and his wife will have a child:

According to the custom of the priest's office, his [Zechariah's] lot was to burn incense when he went into the Temple of the Lord. And the whole multitude of the people were praying outside at the time of incense. And an angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. ... And the angel, answering him, said, "I am Gabriel" (Luke 1:9-11; 19)

Zechariah is told that his child, not yet conceived, will fulfill the role of Elijah in the prophecy of Malachi: his child will be the forerunner of the Messiah (compare Malachi 4:5-6 to Luke 1:17).

These are not the only appearances of Gabriel, but they have some interesting similarities: Both times, Gabriel is given the honor of bringing good news related to the coming Messiah. (This occurs again when Gabriel announces Mary's blessing to her, to be the mother of the Messiah.) I wonder if Zechariah, when he found he was talking to Gabriel, might have remembered that Gabriel's last known appearance was the prophecy of the time til the coming of the Messiah, a time he would have expected was reaching its fulfillment. The similarity would have been made stronger in his mind by another aspect of the timing: Gabriel had appeared to Daniel at the time of the evening sacrifice. Here again, Zechariah seems to have been performing either the evening or morning sacrifice (when the incense is offered) at the time that Gabriel came to him. Do angels favor the time of prayer for visiting? For revealing the answer to a long-sought prayer?

Advent: Something Mary and Jesus have in common

I wonder sometimes whether Mary was the most pure-hearted, kind, or loving woman to have lived. She may have been the bravest, too. She was singled out of all women who had ever lived for a unique honor: to bear the Messiah. But it was an honor in the eyes of God only, for many years. In the eyes of people, it made her look bad. She risked the acceptance of her family, the love of her fiance, the security and status of an honest woman. She probably faced scorn and contempt for something she was assumed to have done. She may have been the best of us all, but serving God made her look like the worst in the eyes of a world that judges by appearances.

It is a lot like Jesus. He had a goodness that made others ashamed of themselves, and so he was accused of evil, tried for it, convicted of it, "numbered with the transgressors". He found himself on the wrong side of human judgment for serving the Father.

John the Baptist, Peter, Paul, and a long line of others have found that serving God is a ticket to being despised by the world, even being found on the wrong side of the law, or popular opinion, or a human court.

Sometimes I think that the church's life parallels Jesus: his life had a miraculous beginning quickly followed by persecution, some quiet years, then times of popularity and acceptance -- followed by people turning away, the leaders rejecting him and leading a persecution, starting a campaign designed to ensure his death. Jesus' miraculous resurrection started the church's story: a miraculous beginning quickly followed by persecution, some quiet years, then times of popularity and acceptance. It looks like now we may be in a phase of people turning away, leaders rejecting Jesus and leading a persecution, starting a campaign designed to ensure the death of the church. But man's opinions are not God's opinions, the world's condemnation is not God's condemnation, and the world's idea of how to destroy Christianity has backfired badly before.

At Advent, we remember Jesus' arrival some two thousand years ago, and look forward to his return. Come, Lord Jesus.

Magnificat - Adapted Lyrics

I have been toying with the idea of doing a musical arrangement of Mary's song, the Magnificat. I think I have the melody worked out. The lyrics that work with the rhythm will probably go like this:

My soul magnifies the Lord
My spirit rejoices in my Savior
   In my lowly state
   As I walk His ways
He remembered me
His eye turns towards the meek
His favor rests upon the humble
  He tells the proud to go
  He casts the ruler low
He remembered me

I'm still working to see if Elizabeth's response will fit in naturally as well. I picture it fitting in with some version of the O! Antiphons to round it out. We'll see. Wish me luck.

Good tidings to Zion: Handel in modern English

Handel's masterpiece, Messiah, has proved its staying power by now. But the English language has changed, and modern musical tastes are simpler. Handel's original is musically complex. I wanted an arrangement of Handel that could be sung by the congregation as a hymn or a song. Here is a simplified version of one piece from the Messiah in more modern English, something a congregation could sing:

O you proclaiming good tidings to Zion,
Go up onto the high mountain,
Call to Jerusalem, call out your tidings
Go up onto the high mountain.
Lift your voice
Have no fear
The glory of the Lord shall appear
The glory of the Lord shall appear
And all the world shall behold him!

Call out, call out to the cities of Judah
Proclaim unto the Lord's people
Oh beautiful feet bringing tidings to Zion
Call out to the cities of Judah!

Behold your God!
Behold your God!

Lift your voice
Have no fear
The glory of the Lord shall appear
The glory of the Lord shall appear
And all the world shall behold him!

The original was basically all from Isaiah 40:9 and 60:1; this works in parts of a related passage in Isaiah 52. I'm still tinkering with this adaptation, which is rough in places. Think of this as Version 1.0.