Are You Really Ready for Christmas?
Advent is a time for us to return to what this season—and our lives—are to be about: worship. Not just for Advent, but for always.
Surely by now you’ve been asked, “Are you ready for Christmas?” By which we generally mean, “Do you have all the presents bought and wrapped, all the decorations hung, all the food bought, and all the other to-dos crossed off your list?” We know we need to be prepared for something—but what?
Most often, we assume we are to be ready for that magical moment of Christmas morning when we gather around the tree and distribute gifts to our loved ones.
Like me, you might find yourself asking, “Is that what it’s really about?” Your gut tells you you’re somehow missing the mark.
CHRISTMAS BEGINS AT AN ALTAR
Thankfully, Scripture gives us a clue as to how God wants us to prepare for Christmas. We need look no further than the surprising beginning of the Christmas story. We presume the opening scene to be of a Jewish man carefully accompanying his donkey-riding, full-term fiancée through a snowstorm to the Little Town of Bethlehem.
But the Christmas story actually begins about fifteen months earlier with an elderly, childless couple—not a couple waiting for the arrival of a baby, but a couple defined by waiting for a child, and welcoming none (see Luke 1:5-25).
Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth are descendants of Aaron, the first Jewish High Priest, and are described as “righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord” (Luke 1:6). As a priest, Zechariah served regularly at the temple, a responsibility he’s fulfilling when an angel suddenly appears to him.
The location of this angelic appearance does not happen by chance. Gabriel could have appeared to him at home, while he was working in the field, or during a long journey. However, God intentionally chose to reveal his plan to Zechariah while he is in the temple, at the altar. God intentionally brought his first Christmas announcement in the place of worship, alerting us that this is a story about worship.
ISRAEL’S WORSHIP PROBLEM
Israel had a long history of cluttered altars. The people had often abandoned the God who redeemed them and made them his own special people. Such a great beginning makes it all the more tragic when their story consistently turns towards rebellion, rejection, and idolatry. They regularly turned their back on God and literally cluttered their altars with idols and false gods (e.g. 2 Chron. 33:4-5). They habitually adulterated their worship and kept God at bay by filling their lives and altars with other things.
When Zechariah the priest entered the temple to burn incense, he was, essentially, leading the nation in worship (Luke 1:10) and representing them before God. Even though he is described as righteous and blameless, he belongs to a people who have constantly been mired in idolatry, confusion, and waywardness. They are turned away from God, in conflict with each other, ignorant of God’s ways, and walking in disobedience.
Israel’s worship problem is the context of the angel Gabriel’s announcement.
WE HAVE A WORSHIP PROBLEM, TOO
Like the Israelites of old, we too have a worship problem. And Jesus has come to solve it. Thus the angel Gabriel’s announcement to Zechariah, declaring the work that his future son, John the Baptist will accomplish:
“And he will turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God, and he will go before him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, to make ready for the Lord a people prepared” (Luke 1:16-17).
John’s job will be to go before Jesus and bring about a threefold turning. The first turning was repentance, turning “many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God,” away from the idols that clutter their altars. The second turning was reconciliation, turning “the hearts of fathers to their children.” When God makes people right with himself, he also does the work of making them right with one another. The third turning was transformation, turning “the disobedient to the wisdom of the just.”
The Bible regularly juxtaposes the wise and the foolish. The wise are just, righteous, and obedient, while the foolish are unjust, wicked, and disobedient. God is in the business of making foolish men wise, and disobedient men just (see Jer. 31:33-4; 32:36-41; Ezek. 36:26-27).
WHAT WE’RE PREPARING FOR
Ultimately, John’s job would be “to make ready for the Lord a people prepared” (Luke 1:17). But prepared for what?
Two connected passages give clarity on the purpose of this preparation as well as insight into the purposes of our own Advent preparations; that we are to be prepared to see God’s glory and respond in worship.
Prepared to see God’s glory. Isaiah lined out a job description for John the Baptist hundreds of years before his birth:
“A voice cries: ‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken’” (Is. 40:3-5).
The metaphor is that of a cluttered path—valleys, mountains, and the uneven, rough ground that marks the difficult paths of the world and of our lives. These are the paths we create on our own, attempting to walk them without God. It is a path for God, yet we are the ones who’ve cluttered it! John’s job was to be an earth-mover; to run a spiritual bulldozer over these self-made roads and level out a path upon which God himself would come to his people.
The path that John was to prepare (and that Advent mimics, in a way) was a path of welcome. It was the path of the King, upon which we are to roll out the red carpet in welcome. Advent is a time of preparation for welcoming the King!
The ultimate purpose of this leveling work is “for the glory of the Lord [to] be revealed and all flesh [to] see it together” (Is. 40:5). God is making it possible for us once again to clearly see His glory. In order for that to happen, the path has to be cleared. It has to be decluttered.
Prepared to respond in worship. When John is born, Zechariah’s mouth is opened for the first time in nine months, and he sings a song of praise to God. In it, he prophesies to his son, “And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people in the forgiveness of their sins” (Luke 1:76-77). All this, Zechariah says, so that the people might “serve him [i.e., worship God] without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all our days” (Luke 1:74-75).
As a descendant of Aaron, John too was a priest. His would be preparatory in nature: cleaning house, decluttering, and removing obstacles so that nothing else would distract from what Israel was made for: to worship God.
So, what are we preparing for during this Advent season? We are preparing to worship.
ADVENT: A SEASON TO DECLUTTER
Advent is a season meant to prepare a people for the coming of the King. It’s a time of decluttering from all the things we’ve thrown into the path and onto the altar that bog down our worship, replaced Jesus in our affections, and distracted us from him.
Advent is a yearly rhythm of intentionally entering into practices that help us to declutter our spaces, calendars, wallets, minds, and hearts. It’s a time to intentionally get our house ready for the one who came as a baby. Decluttering is an act of hospitality, of rolling out the red carpet, of preparing, and of going all out in order to make room for and welcome the King.
Advent is a time for us to return to what this season—and our lives—are to be about: worship. Not just for Advent, but for always.
Mike Phay serves as Lead Pastor at FBC Prineville (Oregon) and as a Staff Writer at Gospel-Centered Discipleship. He has been married to Keri for over 21 years, and they have five amazing kids. You can follow him on Twitter (@mikephay) or check out his blog.
What the Wise Men Teach Us About How We Read the Bible
Those wise men shouldn't be in your nativity scene. The reason why reveals three common problems with how we approach Scripture.
We all have one in our homes this time of year—a cute nativity scene. There’s baby Jesus, of course, right in the middle, flanked by Mary and Joseph, a collection of donkeys and sheep, a few shepherds, perhaps an angel above, and, last but not least, three wise men. Let’s talk about those wise men. The thing is, if your nativity scene has wise men in it, it’s wrong.
Let’s revisit the story.
Revisiting the Christmas Story
Mary, fully pregnant and ready to give birth, finds herself riding a donkey beside her faithful husband, Joseph, as they make their way to Bethlehem. After arriving, they find there’s no room for them in the local inn. But there is a manger, or stable, that has some room.
Having nowhere else to go, Mary and Joseph cozy up in the manger alongside what surely would have been a variety of animals. Once inside, Mary gives birth to her firstborn, a son. But not just any son. This was the very Son of God. They name him Jesus after having received earlier angelic instructions to do so.
Shortly after, angels appear to nearby shepherds and announce the good news that the Savior of the world has just been born. A choir of angels appears and explodes into song: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” Then, just as quickly as they came, the angels disappeared.
Awe-struck, the shepherds head off to Bethlehem to see this newborn boy. Once they arrive, they find the boy lying in a manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes.
Then, the wise men see a bright, shining star and start heading east, following it towards Jerus—not so fast.
The Case of the Missing Wise Men
This is where things go wrong. We assume the wise men were there at the manger because their story directly follows the birth narrative of Jesus in chapter 2 of Matthew’s Gospel. But our assumption leads us astray because the Bible never says the wise men were present at the birth. Instead, it says they visited Jesus when he was about 2 years old.
We know this from the tragic and gruesome details of Herod’s slaughter of young boys in Matthew 2. The wise men, in an epically unwise move, go to King Herod in Jerusalem to ask where this baby boy, the new “King of the Jews,” has been born.
Immediately sensing the threat to his throne and an opportunity to snuff out this newcomer, Herod plays along with the wise men. He tells them to go to Bethlehem and find this new king, then report his location so he could come and kill him. The wise men did find the baby boy, and yes, they brought him gifts of frankincense, gold, and myrrh. But they were warned in a dream not to return to Herod, so they went home a different way.
Herod, realizing he’s been duped by the wise men, does what all dictators do when things don’t go their way—he starts killing people. Since he didn’t know which little boy to have killed, he orders every boy age 2 and under to be murdered.
This is how we know when the wise men came to visit Jesus. Herod deduced the time when the star appeared, then calculated how old the baby king would be. See for yourself:
“Then Herod, when he saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, became furious, and he sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem and in all that region who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had ascertained from the wise men.” –Matt. 2:16
So now you know your nativity is wrong. At the end of the day, I’m not really concerned with whether you have the magi in your manger.
What I am concerned about is what this error reveals about how we read the Bible. In particular, it reveals three common problems with how we approach Scripture: we don’t read it for ourselves, we assume other people have read it for themselves, and we don’t see what we read.
We Don’t Read the Bible for Ourselves
Bible engagement is, to put it bluntly, abysmal, even within the church. You might even call it an epidemic. In American culture where unfettered access to the Bible exists in a variety of formats, more than half of Americans have read little or none of the Bible. After their recent study of Bible reading, LifeWay Research concluded that Americans are fond of the Bible but don’t actually read it.
Scott McConnell, Executive Director of LifeWay Research, highlights the problem, saying, “Even among worship attendees less than half read the Bible daily. The only time most Americans hear from the Bible is when someone else is reading it.”
The reason most of us think the wise men were at the manger is that most of us haven’t read the Bible for ourselves. We haven’t exposed ourselves to the text first-hand, let alone examined it. Most Americans seem content to live in Old Testament times where God’s Word had to come through the mouth of a prophet. Francis Chan writes,
“A mentor of mine lives in India. Last year, he called me on the phone crying, distraught over the state of the church in America. ‘It seems like the people in America would be content to take a selfie with Moses. Don’t they know they can go up the mountain themselves? Why don’t they want to go up the mountain?’”
One of the reasons we don’t want to go up the mountain is because we assume the people we hear the Bible from went up themselves, which leads us to our second problem.
We Assume Other People Have Read the Bible for Themselves
Millions of people missing a small detail of the manger scene is only possible when those people assume others have read the Bible closely and will tell them what they need to know. Perhaps this is why “good Bible teaching” is most important to American churchgoers—we need good Bible teaching or we won’t get any Bible for the week.
Whether it’s teaching in a weekend service, small group, or Bible study, we assume the people talking have read the Bible for themselves. That assumption leads us to believe we can trust what they say about it. And even when they say something that sounds off, we haven’t read enough of the Bible to know where to check their understanding.
One of the big takeaways from LifeWay’s recent study was that “people who really like the Bible don’t necessarily really read the Bible.” If the statistics are true—and if we care deeply about eternity—we would be wise not to assume people talking about the Bible have actually read it.
But what about those of us who do read the Bible? How have we read the birth narratives in Matthew 2 and Luke 2 without noticing the time gap between the shepherds and wise men? Because even when we read the Bible, we don’t see what we read.
We Don’t See What We Read
Of the small percentage of Americans who read the Bible, an even smaller percentage know how. Literacy, or knowing how to read, is not the only skill needed to read a two-thousand-year-old collection of books written in ancient cultures by people from a world that looked vastly different than ours. A solid grasp of hermeneutics, or the science of interpreting ancient documents, is crucial for people in 2018 to read a book written in Rome or Israel thousands of years earlier.
At a basic level, everyone in the church should have access to other, more mature believers who can show them how to rightly handle the word of truth (2 Tim. 2:15). The value in teaching something like hermeneutics is in helping Christians properly interpret what they’re reading in the Scriptures. The real goal, though, of hermeneutics is to train people to see the Bible.
Most of us read things at such a speed that we don’t notice much of what’s there. We miss context, innuendo, previous references, etc. We see so little because we don’t give ourselves time to look. We read through passages so we can check the box on our reading plan, or swipe right in our Bible app.
If we want to learn to read the Bible, we must learn to see the Bible. That takes time and effort. But the reward is like sweet, like honey in the mouth (Ezek. 3:3).
A Way Forward
Do you need to throw away your nativity if it has wise men? No. But you might need to chart a way forward with your own Bible reading habit. There are a few ways to get started.
First, read the Bible. Just read it. You won’t learn to love the Bible until you learn to read the Bible. So, tolle lege—take up and read!
Next, find someone to teach you how to read it well. If that’s not an option, make use of one of the great online resources available, like David Platt’s Secret Church session on How to Study the Bible, or Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary’s class on Interpreting and Teaching the Bible.
Finally, pray for God to give you a hunger for the Bible. Ultimately, we don’t read the Bible because we don’t delight in reading it. Pray for that delight as you continue to immerse yourself in the wonders of the Word.
Please don’t put your eternity in someone else’s hands. Read the Bible for yourself.
Grayson Pope (M.A., Christian Studies) is a husband and father of three, and the Managing Web Editor at Gospel-Centered Discipleship. He serves as a writer and editor with Prison Fellowship. For more of Grayson’s writing check out his website, or follow him on Twitter.
The Marvelous Condescension of Christmas
“Yes,” said Queen Lucy. “In our world too, a stable once had something inside it that was bigger than our whole world.”
These words from Narnian adventurer Lucy Pevensie in C.S. Lewis’ The Last Battle articulate well the irony and majesty of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ. Only the wisdom of the Creator and Lord of the universe could turn our notions of normal on their ear in such a profound way, revealing to us a manger whose “inside is bigger than its outside.” It seems he delights in astounding his creatures with his infinite ability to exceed and confound their expectations.
No doubt the news of Christ’s birth came as a jaw-dropping, thrill-inducing revelation to those shepherds so long ago: “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11). The very God whom Solomon had described as uncontainable, even by the heavens, confined himself to the womb of a woman? How could it be?
But, while the physical wonder of what God accomplished in the Incarnation is colossal in its display of power and wisdom, that is not even the point of the angel’s announcement to the shepherds—it is simply the paper on which an even more marvelous proclamation is embossed forever.
UNTO YOU IS BORN
If I put myself in the sandals of the shepherds, I cannot help but notice that there is a special message, a stunning declaration embedded in this announcement. It is “unto me” that a Savior has been born! Unto me? Surely there must be some mistake. Why would God go through all that trouble just for me? Surely there is some greater person for whom this announcement is meant. Did the angel take a wrong turn on his way to the king’s palace or the temple in Jerusalem?
I’m a nobody. How could this historic pronouncement be meant for me? Yet there the light is, and now the whole choir of angels is singing. It must be true!
And, indeed, it is true. For our sake, not only does the God of the universe wield kingdoms, topple obstacles, and overcome adversaries—he sacrifices his very best, his very dearest. God sent his only begotten Son into the world to die for little, unimportant, who’s-ever-heard-of-them individuals. As a result, whosoever believes in him will not perish but will have everlasting life.
It is “unto you” that a Savior was sent, that a baby was born, that the Christ was crucified.
A SAVIOR WHO IS CHRIST THE LORD
When most of us see a manger scene, our response to the reminder of what God became for us is limited to a placid, “Oh, isn’t the little baby Jesus sweet! How precious that Jesus was once an infant, so weak and helpless.” While it is appropriate to marvel at the smallness of the parcel into which God packed our Redeemer, let us not get the wrong idea about this child. He is Lord.
Paul tells us in Colossians 1:17 that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was “before all things,” and in him “all things hold together.” One of the greatest wonders of the Incarnation is that somehow the very baby that Mary held was at the same time holding her together, along with the rest of the universe.
The hand that rocks this cradle doesn’t rule the world—but the baby in the cradle does! The little finger that held hers was also holding the Roman Empire, guiding the Arctic Tern in its migration from Africa to Antarctica, and keeping Mars in its orbit around the Sun.
Just because Jesus became an infant human doesn’t mean he ever gave up being Lord. This is the clear implication of the angel’s announcement: “unto you is born a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” Jesus Christ—the Alpha and Omega, the same yesterday and today and forever—ruled and sustained the universe from his cradle. No wonder the magi who would later come to see him would fall down and worship him—they knew they were in the presence of the Majesty, even when he was cloaked in familiarity.
LYING IN A MANGER
If we pretend we have never heard the story of the Incarnation, doubtless this is among the most shocking statements in all of the Bible. The fact that angels would herald the birth of the God-man is no great surprise—surely he deserved that and more. That others would come to worship him is also to be expected—certainly, the Christ is worthy and demanding of such reverence. But here is the rest of the royal birth announcement: “you will find the baby”—where?—“lying in a cattle trough” (Luke 2:12).
A cattle trough? As if the humiliation of becoming human and living among sinners was not enough! Surely he deserves to be born into one of the palaces he has sustained, or even just a nice, middle-class apartment.
But no. The Son of God was born into the world and had only a trough for his cradle.
MARVELLOUS CONDESCENSION
What marvelous condescension we see in Christmas! Condescension to come at all, condescension to become a human, and condescension to live his life in abject poverty and rejection. Surely such a Savior is to be praised; such a Christ is to be followed.
How can we who take his name on ourselves as Christians and expect a life of lavender and rose petals? Surely to follow this Lord means following him in all his glorious and voluntary humiliation, suffering, and sacrifice for the glory of God.
The shepherds who heard the angels’ doxology responded by saying to one another, “Let us go … and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.” What is your response? Do you want to look further into this matter of God becoming a man? Is your appetite whetted for more of this exalted Lord who humiliates himself for our sake?
Let’s hurry into his presence and beg for a greater glimpse of him this Christmas season.
Justin Huffman has pastored in the States for over 15 years, authored the “Daily Devotion” app (iTunes/Android) which now has over half a million downloads, and recently published a book with Day One: Grow: the Command to Ever-Expanding Joy. He has also written articles for For the Church, Servants of Grace, and Fathom Magazine. He blogs at justinhuffman.org.
Missional Lessons for the Holidays
GOD CREATED HOLIDAYS
Cultural celebrations are not man-made institutions. Like much of God’s creation, holidays can be—and have been—distorted for all sorts of less-than-holy purposes. But what if “Santa” really isn’t an anagram for “Satan”? What if we can we redeem this holiday season, and use it for God’s work?
Seen throughout the Old Testament, and most clearly in Leviticus 23, God commanded His people to pause several times each year, simply to feast and celebrate. Here are far-too-brief summaries of Old Testament Israel’s national holidays:
- The Festival of Trumpets (Rosh Hashanah) kicked off the Jewish New Year with the blast of a ram’s horn. God’s people gathered as one, as Israel kicked off each year with ten days of feasting, celebrating God, and ceasing work to rest in Him.
- The Day of Atonement was an annual reminder of Israel’s sin and God’s forgiveness. In a solemn service on the most important day of the Jewish year, one ram was killed as a symbol of appeasing God’s wrath, as another symbolized God’s removal of sin, being sent into the wilderness never to return.
- The Feast of Booths saw Israel praying for her upcoming harvest. To visibly recall God’s past deliverance from Egypt, they lived in tents for a week. As they then returned to their homes—seventeen days in total after gathering for Rosh Hashanah—they celebrated God’s gift of their permanent dwellings, symbolic of His giving them the Promised Land.
- Passover remembers the biggest event in Israel’s history: God’s original rescue of His people, in His plaguing power over Egypt. Israel sacrificed and roasted a lamb, and still tangibly recall God’s work through readings, foods, and glasses of wine.
- Passover kicked off the Feast of Unleavened Bread. For seven days, Israel recalled the speed with which their ancestors fled Egypt the night of the original Passover.
- The First Fruits Offering marked the beginning of the harvest. A day of thanksgiving, the celebration included offering Israel’s best produce to God, and recalling God’s power and grace in sustaining and providing for His people.
- The Feast of Weeks (called Pentecost) again pointed to God’s provision. Another offering made; more feasts occurred; more thanks shared—this time at the end of the wheat harvest.
LESSONS FROM THE STORY OF ISRAEL
This is more than a bit of Jewish history. Each feast foreshadows God’s work in Jesus’ death and resurrection. These celebrations were celebrated by Jews for centuries and by Jesus Himself. And they inform our own celebrations:
First, Leviticus shows that God instituted intentional celebration into the annual rhythm of His people. God’s people ceased from work and partied. They cooked meat—a luxury in those days—and enjoyed good drink. They made music, relaxed, and played together. They laughed and grieved together. Celebrations are right and good.
Celebrations also cut to the heart of mission: God’s people didn’t celebrate by themselves. They included those around them. Even people with different beliefs. Consider this instruction: “You shall rejoice in your feast, you and your son and your daughter, your male servant and your female servant, the Levite, the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow who are within your towns.” This idea echoes through the Old Testament Law: “sojourners” were foreigners in Israel who joined the feasts; “servants” from various nations celebrated with God’s people; “strangers” and “aliens” weren’t Israelites but joined their events.
A final Levitical lesson is that people, events, and even milestones themselves were never the focus of Israel’s celebrations. Israel celebrated one thing, in many ways throughout each year: God. They didn’t celebrate grain; they celebrated the Giver of that grain. They didn’t celebrate their power over Pharaoh; they had no such power! They celebrated God’s power. These lessons combine to show us not only that not-yet-believers were invited to Israel’s feasts; they observed—and in ways, even participated—as God’s people celebrated God, on days God created for just that occasion.
REDEEMING THIS HOLIDAY SEASON
If Israel—geographically set apart from the rest of the world—publicly celebrated God in the midst of strangers, foreigners, and sojourners, there’s hope for us as we consider holidays. Jesus probably wasn’t born on December 25, and God didn’t invent Halloween or Thanksgiving. But these and other annual days have been carved into our culture, to cease work, celebrate, and engage others. Gifts abound in December, giving us an easy chance to surprise coworkers and classmates with cookies or a brief note. And the world still rings in the New Year with gatherings and far more pomp than Israel’s trumpet blast.
Instead of celebrating this Christmas season, New Years Eve, and other occasions alone or with just-Christian friends—and instead of creating “Christian” versions of special events already happening in our city and neighborhood— let’s celebrate these occasions on mission. Let’s display the gospel through generosity, grace, conversation, and joy. And let’s declare the gospel through stories, toasts, and prayers. Sure, many cultural celebrations have long forgotten God. But we haven’t, and we’ve been sent to those who have. God is sovereign, even the fact that someone declared certain days holidays. God uses even the most broken things—and days—for His mission. How can we do the same?
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Ben Connelly, his wife Jess, and their daughters Charlotte and Maggie live in Fort Worth, TX. He started and now co-pastors The City Church, part of the Acts29 network and Soma family of churches. Ben is also co-author of A Field Guide for Everyday Mission (Moody Publishers, 2014). With degrees from Baylor University and Dallas Theological Seminary, Ben teaches public speaking at TCU, writes for various publications, trains folks across the country, and blogs in spurts at benconnelly.net. Twitter: @connellyben.
(Editor’s Note: Used with permission from the authors. This is adapted from A Field Guide for Everyday Mission by Ben Connelly & Bob Roberts Jr. available from Moody Publishers. )
