Jesus Christ

December 15, 2019 | Leave a Comment

The herald angels sing

They look like giant bibs, or maybe just gaudy jackets. The Victoria & Albert Museum in London had several. Truth be told, the V&A (as it’s known) is full of several of just about everything. It’s called “the attic of the empire” for a reason. It’s enormous. By the third hour wandering its galleries with my family on vacation this summer, I was ready for a break. In the gift shop, I found—gulp—another tabard, this one sized for a baby. Tabards are apparently a thing with the British.

You see, a tabard was worn by a herald. A herald was a royal messenger, sent to deliver proclamations to neighboring kingdoms. The tabards were their uncomfortable uniform.

“Hark the herald angels sing, ‘Glory to the newborn King!’…” we belt out every December. The angels in our drawings and lining up in our pageants wear white bathrobes, though. Maybe they should have been wearing tabards.

After all, the angels were royal messengers, sent by God from the kingdom of heaven to proclaim to the earth that a Prince of Peace had arrived.

“Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests” (Luke 2:13-14).

Maybe we need to start dressing our preschoolers in tabards on Christmas Eve, after all.

The proclamation these heralds came to deliver was one of “peace and goodwill toward men.” The word traditionally translated “men” means “people,” so we don’t need to get hung up on it. The proclamation is for all people, young or old, rich or not so rich, working hard or looking for work, certain or confused, hurting or whole, or all of the above.

Peace and goodwill are in short supply for many of us. Hope comes and goes, until the herald arrives to bring good news.

Remember “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever,” in which the horrible Herdman kids arrive to wreck the Christmas pageant? Gladys is the Angel of the Lord, who hurdles herself down the aisle of the church, hollering, “’Hey! Unto you a child is born!’ as if it was, for sure, the best news in the world.”

It is the best news the world has ever or will ever hear. Of course, to hear the proclamation, we’ve got to open our ears and our hearts. We’ve got to summon the courage to believe that healing and wholeness and love are possible.

It was the late Frederick Buechner who gently suggested, “Turn around and believe that the good news that we are loved is better than we ever dared hope, and that to believe in that good news, to live out of it and toward it, to be in love with that good news, is of all glad things in this world the gladdest thing of all.”

Now, that’s a proclamation we can trust, by any herald who delivers it, tabard or not.

Photo credit: http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O115774/tabard-unknown/

May 8, 2019 | Leave a Comment

A different Mother’s Day

This Mother’s Day is different. I’m getting ready to send my firstborn baby out into the world. In less than ten days, she’ll graduate from high school, and in three months she’ll head to college. Hand me the Kleenex now, and keep them coming.

Parenthood isn’t easy. Remember the Proverbs 31 woman? She’s a mother who works in the home and outside of it, gets up early, goes to bed late, buys land, plants a crop, gives to the poor, helps out the needy, and finds time to make her own clothes. She gives up a lot, mostly sleep, and probably a little free time, too, but what matters is what she gives: she gives confidence to her family, and wisdom, and kindness.

Like every mother of every generation, she gives for no better reason than love.

If any mother tries to tell you differently, on one of those lousy days when we’re feeling sorry for ourselves because the kids won’t behave and the school called again, the car won’t start, the washer’s leaking, and the paycheck didn’t quite stretch as far enough, and you hear us moaning, “Oh, I’m doing it all for the sake of my children…Oh, I think nothing of myself!,” don’t believe her. Just smile, and nod, and hand her another cup of coffee.

Here’s the little secret mothers like to keep to ourselves on those bad days: We get back just as much as we give. No mother gets paid for being a mother, not in dollars and cents. A mother’s payment is love in return. That’s why we do it.

This Mother’s Day, let’s thank our moms profusely for all they’ve done for us. Let’s thank God for them. Let’s remember and give thanks for all the kindnesses, large and small, and especially for the gift of faith in Jesus Christ, which so many of our mothers passed on to us.

But, also, we mothers might take the opportunity to thank our children, for all they have done and are doing to make us wiser, more patient and holier people, and for bringing us joy.

As my daughter heads off into adulthood, there’s a certain peace that comes with knowing I’ve done all I can do. Of course, the peace alternates with terror. What if all I’ve done wasn’t enough? Both the peace and the terror are eventually overcome, though, by gratitude. Thank you, baby, for letting me be your mother.

Finally, let’s all thank God, the source of life and love. We love, after all, because He first loved us.

April 25, 2019 | Leave a Comment

Grace

“But by the grace of God I am what I am,” Paul declares, “and his grace toward me has not been in vain.” (1 Co 15:10)

Grace is never in vain. Grace is the undeserved favor of salvation in Jesus Christ, unearned and unworthy. Grace, truly received as the gift it is, fully in our hearts and minds, can’t be ignored. It calls us to live out of gratitude. It calls us to live in gratitude to Jesus, for the gift of life He’s given us.

Because Jesus Christ is risen, the powers of death and sin are defeated. It’ll all be okay, because it really will be okay now. Whatever happens: whatever burns down, whatever messages we get from the school, whatever the diagnosis tells us, whatever, the victory will belong to Jesus in the end and we have nothing to fear, not tomorrow, or the day after, or any time, ever again.

The herald angels sing

A different Mother’s Day

Grace

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