Christ our Hope Anglican Church Valparaiso

Jesus is the man the psalmist celebrates, and he is the “blessed one” spoke of in the beatitudes. He the man who walks not in the council of the wicked, the tree planted by streams of water. And his blessing looks like an all-powerful king descending into poverty; it looks like a man who mourns the consequences of a rebellion he did not authorize, so that the very ones who hate him might enter into joy. Jesus becomes poor to make us rich, and he invites us into a life that looks like his.

When Jesus shows up and invites us into the blessing of obedience, it’s likely to feel at the moment like a burden. But if we trust him, and say yes to his good plans, we will find that he gives us good things—often even better than what we thought we wanted.

In Christ—the fulfillment of the law and the fulfillment of Israel's calling—God accomplishes the promise and the purpose of the law and of Israel. In him, the God of Israel reconciles himself with the people of all nations, humans who have been so twisted by sin that even when we encounter his goodness our impulse is often to recoil from him so we can maintain our own illusion of control.

Here we have the hard and overwhelming word—all roads must lead us to this one and to him alone: Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God, who comes to proclaim good news to the poor. And the good news he proclaims is himself. He comes to set at liberty those who are oppressed, and the Liberty is him and only him. "Today, in your hearing" this word is fulfilled.

God has been preparing a great celebration and he invites us, not because we have anything to bring, but because "as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you".

But this beloved one, this chosen one —the very Son of God—even as he comes to bring justice, establish righteousness, and to weigh in the balance every grief, transgression, and wrong act that opposes the goodness of God… even in that, he comes in mercy. The sinless one steps into the waters of repentance, not because he has wrong from which to repent but because he's come to carry the weight of the wrong for us.

Simeon, in his prayer upon seeing infant Jesus, proclaims that Jesus - not just the actions of his life and work on the cross, but the person of Jesus - IS our salvation, in this world and the next. When salvation (Jesus) shows up, it's not comfortable, because God is at war with everything other than holiness. Christmas is a sure sign that God will keep coming into our messy reality to be our complete salvation.

Jesus comes to give us power and authority and freedom — to give us the right to become children of God. There is no power unless it is granted by God — we have no ability to force ourselves into God's family, no power to command him, or to demand from him. But Jesus comes, to give it freely. An invitation into a new family, and it just so happens that the Father of this family is the King of the Universe and the God of the Cosmos.

When God comes, he does so not in power, riches, and glory, but in humble obscurity, "despised and rejected.” Why? Mary knows. He does it out of mercy. He does it because he has seen us. Had he come as a great king, as a conquering warrior, with piles of gold and armies and beautiful garments, he would still be remote, distant, and unapproachable. But instead he comes all the way down into our darkness. "Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.”

We're not supposed to be manufacturing peace, or manufacturing rejoicing — they flow from our location: which is "in the Lord.” Are you lacking joy? Are you lacking peace? Run to Jesus, friends. Run to him and in him you will find joy, and you will find peace. You cannot make them for yourself, and they are to be found in no other place.

The life of John the Baptist is a picture of Advent, of what it means to long for and wait for Jesus. John the Baptist’s life reflects and represents the history of God’s people from Abraham to Jesus. John is the culmination of the Old Testament call to repentance in anticipation of Christ’s coming. His whole life is a pointer, a highway through the mountains and valleys of the corruption of Israel, to help people see Jesus. We are likewise called to live our lives waiting for, looking at, and pointing to Jesus.

“Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing — having nothing, yet possessing everything." This is the tension of the Christian life, and particularly the tension of Advent. Jesus has come. Jesus is coming. And here we wait, with the reality and glory revealed, but not yet fully realized.

The Kingship of Jesus Christ is the final, ultimate reality that levels anything else that might stand, and is the hidden reality that is invisibly at work in us and in the church. If we can see the regard and generous kindness of the King then we have the security of a comfort of being known and loved by the only one who truly understands us. Trusting in this unseen reality frees us from burdens that otherwise entangle us.

We are, like the disciples for those first 40 years, living in the time of the "birth pains”. We know that new life is emerging, we know that we have "died with Christ and been raised with him," and we're also walking around in these failing bodies, seeking to walk by faith in service that often looks a lot like "filling up in our bodies the sufferings of Christ”. We all live here longing for the King to return and bring our chaos back into order.

Our God came to bear witness to the pain and suffering of the world. He witnessed the sacrifice of the starving widow in 1 Kings, he witnessed the offering of the destitute widow in Mark, and he witnesses us in our brokenness. When we come to God with our little means, he knows the areas of our life which are impoverished and the depth of our sinfulness, and he will count it as more than the most perfect performance of the best religious leaders.

So this is the first commandment, the most important commandment, the aim and direction of all the cosmos — to respond in love to the God of love, to echo back in joy to the earth and the heavens the image of God as we were made to do.

Jesus always responds to those who call to him in faith. He never elevates his mission above the people who cry to him, because his mission is the people who cry to him. He's just told the disciples that he came to "to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many" — and here is one of them, this blind beggar who has the audacity and faith to believe that Jesus might have time for him, might have mercy for him, might be willing to help him in his need.

Jesus gives us an example of true kingship, but in our fallen humanity we, like the disciples, respond with three errors. We think we know what kingship means and we import our worldly ideas of kingship into our relationship with Jesus. We think we know what we want, though we are bad at recognizing the true desires of our own heart. We presume that we understand the implications of our petitions. Instead, Jesus is the definition of kingship and the author of our heart’s desires.

The young man says: "what do I have to I do to get life that actually feels alive?” He already has wealth and power—and he's a little bit desperate because he knows that it's not enough. At the very least, he knows that he will eventually die and then all that he has now will be lost to him. And Jesus, in love, invites him to enter life.

Jesus understands how hard marriage can be. In fact, Jesus, of all people, understands what it means to bind oneself in covenant to a broken person—to someone who has hurt you and will hurt you again. Jesus knows what it is to suffer in love for one who sometimes relates to you without appropriate regard or kindness. So it's not without regard that he calls us to goodness…

Jesus is the "stumbling stone and rock of offense." He's the boundary that defines in the kingdom, and out of the Kingdom, because his presence and life and way are the kingdom. Where he goes and what he does and how he lives — that's the only measure that matters. Jesus is the one who defines our belonging.

This father lays his broken heart down at the feet of Jesus and proclaims: here I am, in all my hurt and twisted despair. Here I am, with all my disappointments and doubts and questions. Here I am. Help me. Help me even though I don't have within me the strength to even fully believe that you can.

What Mark shows Jesus doing is a fulfillment of God's promise to overthrow the powers that stand against his people. We're told what will happen: The eyes of the blind will be opened, the ears of the deaf unstopped, the lame shall leap like a deer, the tongue of the mute sing for joy. Waters will break forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert. So what Jesus does for this man is both a fulfillment of Isaiah's prophecy and also a picture for us of what salvation looks like. Desolation—desolation and judgment—turned to celebration and joy.

According to Jesus, our holiness problem is deep inside ourselves, not something that's primarily external. And our wisdom is not sufficient to devise a way of escape for ourselves. And, ultimately, our washings only go skin deep. The purifications we invent for ourselves do nothing to cleanse the impurity of our hearts. We need Jesus to wash us.

If Jesus is the true bread from heaven—if he’s actually the source of divine life and truth—then the only thing to do is to fall at his feet in worship. The only correct response is to surrender everything to him, to gather up every crumb of wisdom he offers, and to devote ourselves fully to consuming him and being consumed by him.

After the feeding of the five thousand, the people want to make Jesus their earthly king, but then Jesus gives them a shocking and offensive (to the Jewish disciples) teaching: eat my body and drink my blood. This teaching both echoes the depth of our distress under the curse, and offers a foretaste of eternal, abundant life, which is found only through Christ.God transforms the flesh and blood of Jesus into the bread and wine of the blessing that is promised to all who come to him. Come to the table, and remember how God reached us in our deepest desperation to offer us his greatest blessing.

The heart of God is to rescue and to restore what we have broken. It is the will of the Father that none of those given to Jesus would be lost, that people would look on the Son and believe, and that Jesus will raise his own up on the last day. We trust that our Father, who calls us into the secure hands of the Son, fills us with the power of His Spirit. We delight in his power, rest content in our weakness, and trust ourselves to him.

Jesus instructs the crowds to aim their hearts, and their desires, higher. Higher than comfort, higher than ease, higher than the satisfactions we can expect from a life of “good days” instead of bad ones. We are meant to hunger for “food that endures to eternal life”, food which Jesus claims he can give to us.

What Jesus does by walking on the water is a thing that only God could do — only the one who formed the world from its formless beginning, only the one with power to order the chaotic waters. And Jesus shows us that this majestic power and awesome might is held by one with compassion, who makes himself known, who responds when we call to him.

Mark has given us a picture here of two kings. One hears the truth, and locks it up; he feeds himself, but does not care for his people. The other pours himself out for those under his care, feeding the hungry around him while he suffers lack. And this is how the God of creation reveals himself to us — through Jesus, we see the care, love, and kindness of God for us lost sheep.

When Jesus calls us to go, it is never to a place he has not already gone. When he calls us to deny our desires and submit to God, it is never in a way that he himself did not obey. When he calls us to take up our crosses and follow him, we have the comfort and assurance that he knows exactly what he’s asking and that we can trust him.

Jesus wants to be known for who he is. And since who he is is the infinite God, we can never stop listening—to believe in him is not to accept some fixed set of propositions that you (or anyone else) has carefully tidied and sorted out. To believe in the Jesus who lives is to sit at his feet every day and truly seek to hear, learn, and find anew this loving, generous, majestic King who offers himself to us.

Part of the work of worship is to offer up sacrifices of thanksgiving, both in our weekly service with the liturgy, and throughout our daily life. In our times of trouble, God may seem to be quiet, but he is there asking us to reflect on our fears - are allowing our fears to toss us in the waves, or are we in fear and awe of God in his greatness and his promise of deliverance? All God’s people are a royal priesthood, therefore we are all called to lift up sacrifices of praise and thanksgiving, together, as we serve God and care for one another.

It is like a grain of mustard seed, which, when sown on the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth, yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes larger than all the garden plants and puts out large branches. The seed is the Word of God, and in the parable of the Sower and here, we see this recurring theme — miraculous increase, that a seed, buried in the ground, should bring forth harvest — a plant that bears hundreds of seeds. This is a miracle.

Jesus told his disciples to cast out demons. Unclean spirits are real and desire to undo and thwart the healing work of God in our lives. As a priesthood of believers, we all can stand against the influence of demons, but, like all spiritual gifts, God has blessed some of his people with more gifting and discernment than others in this regard. As a community, we must spend time learning with Jesus and learning the work and character of the Holy Spirit, so we may more sharply recognize and renounce the work of oppressive, devouring demons.

Jesus upends the Pharisees accusations on the Sabbath: man was not made in order to satisfy God's expectations, God's expectations, commands, and laws were made to bless and ennoble us. There is no performative goodness that can increase our standing before God — we weren’t in fact made because he needed servants — and there is no goodness we can obtain for ourselves that is better than what he graciously offers. Jesus himself, the true King, the Son of God, came not to be served, but to serve, and to give himself as a ransom.

We have been taught that the Trinity is too challenging and mysterious a concept for us to consider regularly in our worship and study. However, the Trinity is a fairly clear and simple gift of God that can form our imagination and prayers and care for one another. The Trinity is a defining characteristic of God, and thus, as people called to love God with our whole minds, let us be eager to study it. This enigmatic paradox affirms the otherness of God and the reality that God is love.

Babel gives us a picture of human unity that can only deceive, only destroy and grind to dust—a unity of purpose that sets itself against the blessing of God, and which he, in his mercy, opposes and casts down. So, if that’s what Babel means, then consider anew the greatness of God’s gift in Pentecost.

The gift of the ascension is the infinite chasm between God and man bridged. It shows us a magnification of the fellowship that we lost in Eden. And yet, this is our hope: just as Jesus rises away from earth and into the place that God dwells, we too, following him, do not just re-enter Eden but enter into the throne room of God.

Philip walked an ordinary everyday life of faith in order to be used by God in exceptional ways. We won’t always hear from angels, but the Lord speaks to us, and the call is to listen and obey. Because whoever has His commandments and keeps them, that is the one to whom Jesus will manifest himself.

In his testimony to us of himself, the first thing we see God do is speak. In the world that we live in, words are imprecise descriptors of “the real stuff” like atoms and energy and space and time. But the Bible tells us something truer and deeper than that: words matter. When God speaks, He speaks with power and with authority. He speaks and kingdoms topple. He speaks and crops grow. He speaks and the universe is made.

Jesus has ascended. The spirit has come. The exchange of lives in the Pentecost is being lived out before our eyes in this story from Acts. This is the work for all who are given the Holy Spirit — all who bear the name of Christ live out his life. He departed, but he is not gone.

Jesus upends the Pharisees accusations on the Sabbath: man was not made in order to satisfy God's expectations, God's expectations, commands, and laws were made to bless and ennoble us. There is no performative goodness that can increase our standing before God — we weren’t in fact made because he needed servants — and there is no goodness we can obtain for ourselves that is better than what he graciously offers. Jesus himself, the true King, the Son of God, came not to be served, but to serve, and to give himself as a ransom.

Paul reminds the people of God that in all the hard places, in the burdens of subservience and the burdens of responsibility, that in the challenges of all our interpersonal relationships, we are actually called to relate in every case as if we are acting out Christ. We are caught up in the cosmic purposes of God to declare the glory of the Father through the glory of Son, by the power and the glory of the Spirit. And so, whether you’re relating to your boss, or your parents, or your spouse, Paul wants you to remember that you’re acting out the Jesus story that the whole universe was built to proclaim. Wives and husbands, that’s about Jesus. Slaves and masters: Jesus. Children and parents: Jesus. It’s all about Jesus.

The gospel is not just that God did something for us (though he certainly did) — it’s that is did something IN us, and he’s still doing it. And that doing is a calling out of darkness and into light. It’s a reshaping of the ways we’ve become twisty so that we can be God-shaped image bearers again. And so that’s the gospel. That’s what God is doing in us and to us and for us and for Jesus. And yet the old ways, the broken ways are still right there before us. And so we have to choose, all the time, which scales will I use? Which path will I take?

"I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called." (Ephesians 4:1) Which of us feels worthy by any standard? The truth is, we are called to walk worthy of the calling. But if you hear that and feel discouraged, unworthy, and incapable, then I want to suggest to you that you haven't really heard what Paul is saying. We are called to walk with Jesus, as Paul explains here in Ephesians 4.

We are a people plagued with a deep longing for identity, meaning, and purpose. We see in the world around us (and if we look closely, in ourselves) a constant churning attempt at BEING something. We labor to define ourselves and our place in the world in a way that makes us feel connected, valuable, and significant. And the gospel comes to us in that place of longing. Through the church God is telling his story, and for those who are in the body of Christ, the church, we are the means by which God declares his manifold wisdom.

How do we figure out what life is about through all the mundanity of living? Paul calls us to remember - what does that mean? In our own power we have no hope and no access to God, so that we can also see that in Christ— who has gone into the holy place on our behalf — we have access to the very throne room of God. Remember the futility of life without Christ so that you will not be tempted to turn away from God’s work back to your own.

Before the foundation of the world, before birds and trees and even before rocks or stars or time itself, God has this plan for you: that you should be holy and blameless. See God’s purposes lived out in Christ for us as shown in Paul’s first letter to the Ephesians. 

In our Advent longings, we are called to remember that our deepest need is unity with God, and our separation from Him is due to sin and guilt we have no power to wash away. But he has rescued us. He is rescuing us. He will rescue us. Let us hope in him.