The Advent Wreath: Finding Comfort in the Light of Jesus

OCIEANNA FLEISS|GUEST Christmas music played softly as I leaned on the counter at the Christian bookstore where I worked alongside my new husband. “Advent?” I said. “Isn’t that when churches light candles around Christmas time?” We were in our twenties, still establishing our own family culture, and had been dabbling in some of the Christian traditions we hadn’t explored before. “Yeah, but I heard you can also celebrate it at home,” he answered. “How?” “I’m not sure, but I think we should start with an Advent wreath.” I agreed, and after some shopping, we settled on a gorgeous wooden wreath decorated with a Celtic knot that would sit nicely on our coffee table. It had four candles—three purple and one pink—to represent the four weeks of the Advent season. Later we added a white one, the Christ candle, to light on Christmas Eve. With joy I set it up in our California apartment, and each Sunday in December, as the sunshine filtered through our windows, we lit the candles and read the accompanying Scriptures for each week. The weekly Advent themes of hope, preparation, joy, and love nurtured a rhythm of worship our hearts needed—and have continued to need. We didn’t know then how, over the years, these themes would play out in our lives...

The Advent Wreath: Finding Comfort in the Light of Jesus2023-11-15T21:57:49+00:00

On Joy and Glimpses of Heaven

REBEKAH COCHELL|GUEST Architecture communicates through its structure. A government building with Greek columns speaks of democracy, justice, and order. The type of house we choose to live in can communicate our values and personalities. A church’s structure can tell us about the theology of the community that worships there. Typically, I prefer ancient Gothic cathedrals to any “newer” church buildings. Within an hour from my German home are at least three such churches that date back to the 1100s. Gothic cathedrals are symbolic “books.” They visually preach the gospel through the exterior of the structure’s flying buttresses and jambs (sculptures) and inside through stained glass windows, paintings, and more sculptures. Every aspect of a Gothic cathedral is symbolic, pointing to a reality greater than this present world. For a medieval worshipper, entering a cathedral was a symbolic entrance into heaven. An aspect of medieval semiotics (the study of signs and symbols) that is often overlooked is that symbols were more “real” than the present world to medieval worshippers. Since the reality of God and heaven was eternal and earthly existence was fleeting, symbols of the greater reality were more meaningful than the actual reality of Earth. Recently, my husband and I took a trip to Barcelona, Spain where there is a cathedral which has become the second most visited tourist site in the world. The Sagrada Familia looks unlike any other building on Earth, with its myriad of neo-gothic spires that could easily have been created for a science fiction or fantasy film set. Sagrada Familia broke ground in the late 1800s and is still not finished due to a myriad of political and financial reasons. I desired to see it but had no expectation that it could compare to a church built 800 years ago. I thought it would be gaudy based on some of the photos I saw. I was mistaken...

On Joy and Glimpses of Heaven2023-11-15T21:59:29+00:00

Love Letters of Scripture

SHARON ROCKWELL|CONTRIBUTOR The letter finally arrived. Acceptance to a Christian university along with a scholarship for tuition and housing. I was on cloud nine! As I read the details of the scholarship requirements, I recognized the expected minimum grade point average. But there was another requirement and this one was not expected. The scholarship I was awarded came from an anonymous donor who simply requested that I send her a letter after each semester, updating her on my academic progress and personal goals. With a grateful heart, I looked forward to sending those letters at the end of each semester. I would tell her how much I wanted to live up to her expectations, and that was doing my best. I proudly sent her a copy of my grades so that she could see the results of her investment. Though I never met the woman, I grew to think of her as a confidant and friend as I shared my academic progress, spiritual growth, details about happenings in my family, and about the boyfriend I fell in love with and then married the week after graduation. All possible because of the generous gift from a woman I never met. I continued to send letters after college so that she would know I put my degree in chemistry to good use. Love Letters to the Church I love letters – both sent and received. Last year my Bible study read through Acts, which records the establishment of the early church through the ministry of the Holy Spirit. Its author, Luke, detailed the missionary journeys of Paul in establishing local churches and giving direction to their work, worship, and organization. Acts 1:8 provides a summary of what was to come for those charged to be witnesses to the Lord Jesus Christ: “But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.” When our Bible study ended in the spring, I wanted to know more details about what happened next. The answer comes in the form of letters. Paul wrote letters to the churches he planted and hoped to visit again, and through those letters Paul gives practical definition to the Christian faith. How thankful we can be to God who preserved Paul’s letters for our edification. “For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.” (Rom. 15:4). I usually do my personal Bible study by reading a chapter and then using a commentary for further understanding. But I changed my study this summer to reading the entire letter sent to one of the churches or one of Paul’s spiritual sons, at one sitting. Reading the letters this way gave me a whole new perspective. Paul’s letters are really love letters. He never fails to communicate his love for the church and his intense desire to see both Jews and Gentiles come to know the saving grace of the Lord Jesus Christ. He also wrote to convey a plan for organizing and managing the church...

Love Letters of Scripture2023-08-15T13:43:26+00:00

John 16: From Sorrow To Joy

PEY CHU|GUEST I am a huge fan of modern medicine. My first three children were born in North Carolina with the marvelously numbing help of an epidural. Sure, I felt uncomfortable but I did not feel the excruciating agony of childbirth. This was not the case for baby number four. He was born in East Asia where the epidural was not often administered and so, it did not take. I did not know that birthing a baby was actually supposed to be so painful. At one point, I was so convinced that I was dying in childbirth that I tearfully looked into my husband’s eyes and apologized for dying and leaving him a widower to care for three, possibly four, children. From Sorrow to Joy In his farewell address to his disciples, Jesus compares his impending earthly departure with a woman’s sorrow in labor. This metaphor would not have been a new one to those listening to Jesus. It was used in Old Testament biblical literature to allude to “the birth pains of the Messiah refer[ing] to a period of terrible trouble that must precede the consummation.”Jesus uses this imagery to show his disciples that they were at that point. The misery of Christ’s death would be countered with the bliss of Christ’s resurrection. In the Upper Room Discourse, Jesus has been preparing his disciples for what was about to come. As he looked ahead to his own death, Jesus tells them in John 16 that soon they would not see him. Their sorrow at his departure would be like the pains of childbirth. But their sorrow would not be the end; their sorrow would turn to joy. The intense agony of labor (and their sorrow) would be followed by inexpressible joy just as a woman “no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world” (John 16:21). Jesus follows with, “So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you” (John 16:23).

John 16: From Sorrow To Joy2023-03-24T18:00:32+00:00

Flourishing in Christ

MEAGHAN MAY | GUEST She was simply selling magazines door to door. I never caught her name, but she asked me a question that left an impression. She asked why I would buy a magazine from her, and thinking a visual image may stick, the word “flourishing” fell from my lips. Flourishing in Relationship with Christ In Mark 10 we read the story of a man who by most standards was a success. He ran up to Jesus and asked, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus engages him with a question, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.” Asking the man if he recalls the Commandments, the man responds, “Teacher, all these I have kept from my youth.” Like this rich young man, we spend a lot of energy trying to succeed on our own. Instead of sending him away in frustration, Jesus invites the young man into deeper fellowship.

Flourishing in Christ2023-03-24T18:07:19+00:00

The Presence of Joy, Even in the Midst of Tears

KATIE POLSKI | CONTRIBUTOR I lost my dad to cancer when I was twenty-three years old. We were close, and my dad was, in many ways, an anchor in my life, so I struggled immensely in the months following his death. One of the cards we received during this time had Nehemiah 8:10 printed on it: “The Joy of the Lord is my strength.” I remember staring at the words longing to understand what it meant to have joy in the midst of my pain. A few years later I sat in my sister’s living room while she battled the side effects of treatment for breast cancer. The world felt weighty. I pushed back tears as I looked through her music, hoping to find something uplifting, joyful. I saw a song entitled, “Joy,” so I played the music anticipating a fun and light tune. What filled the room were the words of the familiar childhood song: I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart… But the singer sounded…sad. It was almost as if she was crying as she sang the heartfelt words. I dropped to my knees and prayed. Is this what it means to have joy in you, Lord? Can I cry while remaining joyful?

The Presence of Joy, Even in the Midst of Tears2023-03-24T18:07:24+00:00

A Time to Mourn

JESSICA ROAN | GUEST She really was extraordinary—funny, loving, and firm when she needed to be. If a perfect teacher exists, she would be at the top of the list, in our house anyway. Thankfully for us, our younger son was in her class, not once, but twice. When we found out he would have his kindergarten teacher again for 5th grade, we were elated. The unpredictability of 2020 was especially difficult for him. While we couldn’t be sure which activities, even school itself, would go on, we could be sure about one thing: Mrs. W. And she delivered—suddenly breaking into song, encouraging dance-offs, dressing up in wild costumes. If there was anything an 11-year-old would love, she did it. Now that life has resumed some normalcy, we have tried to embrace change. My boys started new schools this year. While they were excited to move on to new adventures, the subtle dread of leaving this enjoyable relationship behind haunted us all. My son periodically says, “I miss Mrs. W.” After six great years under her tutelage, we all miss her. We mourn this transition in our lives. Mourning comes in all shapes and sizes. Not only has our family mourned transitions, we’ve mourned broken relationships, and the passing of dear family members. Life is filled with losses and each one brings us great grief.

A Time to Mourn2023-03-24T18:10:27+00:00

The Wonder and Joy of Advent

BARBARANNE KELLY|CONTRIBUTOR The anticipation of Christmas begins building earlier and earlier these days, doesn’t it? The past couple of years have been especially hard on us all, with the common hardships and losses of the pandemic combined with stridently divisive voices shouting at us from every source of media. Our fears and isolation magnified until we are numb. It’s no mystery why we start looking forward to the Christmas season even before the first leaf falls in autumn. Amid all the tumult and strife of our weary world, we long for peace. Bombarded by cynicism and sarcasm we seek for simple, childlike wonder. Drowning in heartache and pain, we hope, however faintly, for joy. Peace is the great need of mankind, but it won’t be found in the traditions and celebrations of a mid-winter holiday. Wonder doesn’t come wrapped in shiny paper and bows, and joy can’t be manufactured and ordered with one-day shipping. The Peace We Need Most The peace we need is a person—our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. We need Jesus because the root of all our tumult and strife isn’t the wars that rage between peoples and nations, between political parties and factions, or even the strife between family members which drives loved ones apart. The source of our unrest is that we were born at war with God—enemies with our Creator. Because of the sin resident within our hearts, we cannot make peace on our own. We need the peacemaker. We need Jesus. During this Advent season, we anticipate the celebration of his birth, which was foretold by the prophets of old: But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days… And he shall stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. And they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth. And he shall be their peace. (Micah 5:2, 4–5a) True wonder wells up in us as we learn who this child is, born to Mary, wrapped in swaddling cloths, and laid in the manger: 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 Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forevermore. (Isaiah 9:6–7) Very God of Very God Isaiah drew a strong prophetic sketch of the child who is Mighty God, the Everlasting One who will establish David’s throne and rule his kingdom of peace forevermore. The apostle Paul filled in the sketch with blazing colors: He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross. (Colossians 1:15–20) This is the child who is born to us, the Son given to us. He is, as the creed so boldly declares: “very God of very God.” Our Creator humbled himself to be born of a virgin in order to reconcile to himself all things. The Son of God, born to bring peace by his death on the cross...

The Wonder and Joy of Advent2023-03-24T18:12:22+00:00

Stewarding the Struggle

KAREN GRANT|GUEST The rough concrete scratched my toes as I focused on keeping my nose above water at the Fun in the Sun Club pool in Arlington, Texas. My goal that day was to touch the bottom. Water pooled in my ears and my hair swayed like seaweed in my eyes as I learned to hold and release my breath while flipping upside down to touch the bottom. Then I could swim toward the light. My parents applauded as I ventured into deeper and deeper water, opening my eyes to churning legs and feet, and watching my breath in measured bubbles. Discovering that less and less effort was required to break the surface, I began to trust air and water to do what they do. Where were you in the murky pool called the pandemic—that time of uncertainty, fear, and crisis? Were you upside down, attempting to avoid the churning chaos, swimming for the light before you ran out of breath, looking for cheer from someone, anyone out there? To gain perspective, we must somehow step outside of our own view. I believe the only healthy way to do that is to open God’s word to a relevant passage, engage with it, wring it out, cry into it, and ask questions until we get to the bottom. We submerge ourselves and trust Christ to do what He does when we engage with the living and active breath of God. We burst through the surface into His world, His thoughts, His reality, and it does what He does: it reveals areas where we must repent, restrains us from wrong, and sheds enough light for at least the next step. Stewarding Our Sorrows I remember the image of my pastor many years ago as he related the death of over ten friends or family within the span of a year. He and his wife were left empty; they could only be still and listen. They realized that stewardship is not only for money, gifts, and time, but also includes stewarding our sorrows. He held his hands out in the shape of a bowl before the congregation and told us that all he had to offer the Lord was ashes. This image continues to guide me as I’ve come to Jesus with my own offerings of ashes due to losses, severed relationships, and broken dreams, laying them at His feet and trusting Him to make them beautiful in His time. My question to Jesus in 2020-21 then became, “How can I steward this unto Your glory? Would you use me, and re-form me to bring comfort and encouragement to others?” He took me to Isaiah 12, and I was stunned. The truths in this chapter are clear for both its original and prophetic audiences, the covenant people of God. Gratitude, Opportunity, and Joy This is what I found: Our stewardship comes through gratitude, opportunity, and joy. Look at verses 1 and 2...

Stewarding the Struggle2023-03-24T18:13:47+00:00

Covenant With a Cranky Woman

SUSAN TYNER|CONTRIBUTOR Do you tend to avoid cranky people? Go out of your way to avoid the teen who just got grounded or an exhausted coworker who started her day by stepping on a Lego? But what if I am the cranky one? I can’t escape me. Sure, I have tricks up my sleeve to stuff my frustrations so I can function at work. I can fix a smile during lunches with friends so I do not hint at the dark musings of my heart. However, my guard drops back at home and my crankiness is more obvious as I bang dinner dishes, yell “shut up” to the dogs, or give the silent treatment to my family. I see them avoid me, and I wish I could escape from my cranky self, too. I wonder if Naomi felt the same way. In the Book of Ruth we see Naomi’s story unfold. Her family left Bethlehem and went to Moab in search of bread, and though they found actual bread, they did not find what they really went for: health and life. Ten years later, Naomi’s husband and boys are dead, and she is left alone except for her two Moabite daughters-in-law, Ruth and Orpah. A widow without male protection doesn’t have many options. She hears the famine back home is over and returns, her daughter-in-law Ruth in tow. They arrive back in Bethlehem, and Naomi tells her hometown friends, “I went out full, and the LORD has brought me home again empty. Don’t call me by my old name, Naomi (“pleasant”) but call me Mara (“bitter”).” Empty. Bitter. Maybe even a little cranky? In chapter 2, Naomi comes across almost numb and depressed when Ruth goes to find work in the fields. Only when Ruth mentions the name Boaz do we see a spark as Naomi responds, “blessed be he of the LORD, who has not forsaken His kindness to the living and the dead” (Ruth 2:20). By the end of the story, we see Boaz taking both widows into his family and Naomi holding a grandbaby. But even though the writer does not explicitly say it, the real hero is God, not Boaz. We as the audience see what was happening all along. God was sticking close to Naomi because she was part of His family. Another way to describe His loving-kindness is with the term covenant, a solemn promise that God would never leave His children, His sheep. Covenant even with the cranky. In the flock of God, Naomi was a cranky sheep and God kept His covenant with her anyway. Sometimes you and I are cranky sheep, too. Perhaps our losses of dreams, expectations, or loved ones leave us dry and brittle. Or maybe we look up one day, and we are far from the community of God’s people and don’t like how our cynicism compares with their contentment. We wonder if God wants to avoid us because we are really not that fun to be around. Thankfully, God doesn’t keep His covenant promises only to the happy faces, the productive hands, and the hearts that sing with VBS vigor, “I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart.”  He sticks with cranky women too—the women out of energy to pray; women bitter from hard work and empty bank accounts; and women haunted by mistakes that can’t be undone. Where do I go if I’m cranky?...

Covenant With a Cranky Woman2022-05-04T22:59:31+00:00
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