Easter Sunday 2018

“Come, Step into Easter” (John 20:1-18)

Rob Tennant, HillSong Church, Chapel Hill, NC

Easter Sunday, April 1, 2018

            The disciple Jesus loved; he was with Simon Peter, huddled, hiding, scared, defeated.  Jesus had died on Friday in the worst way possible, broken and bleeding on a Roman cross.  He, the beloved disciple, was there.  He wept alongside the women who followed Jesus, Mary Magdalene, the other Mary (the one married to Clopas), and, Mary, the mother of Jesus.  None of the male disciples other than him were there.  They had fled.  He stayed.  He looked into Jesus’ dying eyes. 

            That’s when the Lord entrusted care of Mary into his hands.  That’s when the lump in his throat became unbearable.  Then, they thrust a spear into Jesus’ side.  He was gone.  This disciple and the women returned home to find Simon Peter drowning in shame. 

            The longest Saturday in the history of Sabbath days passed.  At sunrise on Sunday, the women woke and headed out, arms loaded with spices.  They were going to anoint Jesus’ body.

            “The tomb will be guarded,” Simon Peter croaked.  Ignoring him, they stepped into the morning shadows, grief-stricken but resolute.  He dismissively waved them off and sank back down into debilitating sorrow.  The Beloved Disciple stared after them. 

            An hour later his heart stopped as Magdalene burst through the door.  “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him” (20:2).  Simon Peter staggered to his feet and was out the door.  The Beloved Disciple, for a moment, stood paralyzed, and then dashed after Peter.  Briefly, they ran side by side before the younger man sprinted past the husky fisherman.

            Arriving at the tomb, seeing the rock rolled aside, he paused.  He looked in.  The linen wrappings were there, but no body.  The head cloth had been intentionally, neatly rolled up and set aside. 

            As he stood pondering this, a wheezing Simon Peter barreled past him.  He followed Peter into the tomb.  And he remember Jesus’ words.  “When I am raised to life again, you will know that I am in the father, and you are in me, and I am in you” (John 14:20).  Raised to life again?  Was this …?  He looked at Peter.  Peter moved out of the tomb.  He followed.  Slowly, they walked back to the house.

            “They asked him, ‘You are not one of his disciples, are you?’  He denied it and said, ‘I am not’” (John 18:25).  If he ran for 1000 lifetimes, Simon Peter could not escape the moment he uttered those words.  As he fled into the bleak night, into the infamy of history, the weight of his denial settled upon him. 

            His self-pity grew more pathetic when, after he had made his way back to the house and sat brooding for hours, his reverie of shame was interrupted when the Beloved Disciple and the Marys’ returned.  How could he look at them?  How could he speak to them?  As briefly as possible, they described the crucifixion that he in his cowardice had skipped. 

            He stared vacantly into the eternal void.  Somehow Saturday passed.  He ate nothing.  He said nothing.  He just felt.  Again, the activity of those around him roused him, just a bit.  The women were headed to the tomb to perform burial rituals.  He barely noticed their departure. 

            A while later though, he was snapped out of his stupor when Mary burst in the door.  .  “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him” (20:2).  Simon Peter jumped to his feet, lumbered out the door, and moved as fast as his thick legs would carry him.  They have taken the Lord?  As he chugged up the bath, the lithe body of the younger man, the one dubbed the Beloved Disciple, zoomed past him.  He had only been vaguely aware of the quiet youth’s presence the last couple of days. 

            Now, he looked ahead to see him timidly peeking into the tomb.  Simon Peter pushed past him.  He saw what Mary had described.  The burial cloths were there, but no body.  Where was Jesus?  Oblivious to his younger friend, completely confused, he turned and headed back to the house.  Halfway there, he was aware that his young friend was beside him.  They shuffled along in silence.  He could see that the younger man had a strange gleam in his eyes.  He didn’t know what it was.

            The two men didn’t even notice Mary Magdalene as they headed back to the house.  Nor did she see them as she walked back to the tomb, her vision still clouded by sadness, blurred by a flood of tears.  Alone at the tomb, she looked in and saw two young men in white, radiant with purity.  She had never seen anyone like this.  She knew it, but it didn’t register.

            “Woman, why are you weeping?”  The voice was tender and fierce, if a voice can be both of those things.

            Trembling she said, “They have taken away my Lord and I do not know where that have laid him” (20:13).

            This was too much.  She couldn’t talk to these men.  As she turned from them, there was another.  There was something about this man too.  It was all too much.

            Though she thought it not possible, His voice ripped through her soul even more than theirs. “Woman, why are you weeping?  Whom are you looking for?” 

            Why do people keep asking me why I am weeping?  Her voice was not much more than a whisper.  “Sir, if you have taken him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away” (20:17).

            “Mary.”

            “Rabbouni!”  She flung herself at his feet.  She held him, a second time washing his feet with her tears.  His hand was so strong, so gentle on the back of her head.  Taking her by the shoulders, he raised her to her feet.

            “Go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God” (20:17).

            When she got back to the house she told them, “I have seen the Lord.”

            The first Germanic tribes in the ancient, tribal days of Northern Europe worshipped a fertility goddess called ‘Austron,’ the goddess of sunrise; the goddess of spring.  The frozen winter was over, melting snows receded, and flowers bloomed.  The worship of this goddess spread across the north as language evolved and ‘Austron’ became ‘Eostre,’ and then ‘Easter.’[i] [ii]

            Then St. Patrick and other early evangelistic missionaries came telling a story – the story of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  Bit by bit, tribe by tribe, Anglos and Saxons came to believe that Jesus was the Savior and that their sins were forgiven.  They were baptized as the Kingdom of God took hold at the beginning of the period known as Medieval Europe.  As these ancient Anglos and Saxons came to understand that the only true God is the God they knew in Jesus, they were left with a problem.  What were they to do with the stories told by their grandfathers and their grandfathers before them, stories of the Goddess of Spring and sunrise, the story of Easter?

            The story made sense but not as they had understood it.  They realized the resurrection of Christ was the eternal spring, the final sunrise, the flowering of forever.  Easter wasn’t the story they thought it was.  Easter was the story they had come to know, the story of new life in the risen Christ.  These Northern European Christ-worshipers preached the same simple sermon Mary Magdalene preached to Jesus’ male disciples.  They said, “We have seen the Lord.” 

            They stepped into Easter from the darkness of Pagan fertility cults.  Once they took that step, nothing ever looked the same again.

            Mary Magdalene and later Simon Peter and the Beloved Disciple and the rest of the disciples stepped into Easter from the midnight certainty of the permanence of death.  Read the accounts of Peter before the resurrection.  Read about Peter in the books of Acts, chapters 2-5 and 10-11.  He’s a different person.  But that is what happens when we step into Easter where we meet the resurrected Christ.  Everything we thought we knew goes up in flames. 

I see TV commercials about the mind-blowing technology of virtual reality and interactive TV and other new developments.  On one AD, the announcer is a motivational speaker who sparks our engines with the triumphant claim, “We are living the future we dreamed about.”  Humph!  Technology’s got nothing!  Resurrection is truly mind blowing.  Stepping into Easter is stepping beyond anything we ever could have dreamed, more than we could have “asked or imagined” (Eph. 3:21). 

Of course “stepping into Easter” does not mean colorful eggs full of chocolate; it does not mean going to church on that one day of the year, just to make mom happy; it does not mean fancy new dresses or hats to wear to church.  It does not mean the preacher dresses up extra nice.  Oh, those are fine things.  Those might be things we do around Easter time.  But stepping into Easter is something different altogether. 

            The song the ensemble sang invites us …

                        Come those whose joy is morning sun and those weeping through the night.

                        Come those who tell of battles won and those struggling in the fight.

                        Come young and old from every land, men and women of the faith.

                        Come those with full or empty hands, find the riches of his grace.

             Which are you?  Have you wept through the night?  Are you glowing with joy?  Are you right in the middle of a mighty struggle?  In the winter of life, can you tell of battles you’ve survived?

            We step into Easter when we come from where we are.  We don’t pretend to be something else.  We don’t “put on our Sunday best.”  We are honest about our own lives, our mistakes, messes we’ve made, failures.  We come to God as our messiest selves.  Simon Peter lumbered to that tomb with nothing to carry by his embarrassment and sorrow.   The Beloved Disciple came timidly, peeking in, waiting for others to lead, moving when prompted; but still moving toward Jesus.  Mary came under the shroud of death.  She was looking for a corpse.

When we see ourselves, our sins for what they are, we come in the same condition.  Blindly like Mary Magdalene, timidly like the Beloved Disciple, or shamefully like Peter, we come in our sin.  Receiving us in love, Jesus calls us by name and asks, “Why are you weeping?” 

            In that moment, our eyes are opened.  Mary’s sermon becomes our own.  Your own testimony is “I have seen the Lord.”  From personal experience I can say, “I have seen the Lord.”  Because the Holy Spirit has touched your heart, shown you that this story is true and real, you can say, “I have seen the Lord and he is good.  I know I am forgiven, saved.”

            We come from where we are.  We come to Jesus.  Yes to church, but church gets confused for a building or an institution; Easter is mistaken for a spring-time holiday.  From our deepest pain, we come to Jesus, and thus to a new way of seeing.  Death, shame, sorrow, failure – it is all behind us.  In the light cast from the empty tomb, reality changes.  The world is new and we become new creations.  Like Peter, we are no longer who we were before.  We have been made new.

            All that’s left is to go and tell; tell the world that in Jesus Christ, the Kingdom of God has come near.  In the risen Jesus, salvation has come for all who repent of sin and approach him in faith.  If you already know this salvation, go forth on Easter Sunday radiant in resurrection and find a way to share the Good News.

            If you have never entrusted your heart, your life to him, you can right now.  If you have never announced to the church and to the world that not only is Jesus Lord, He is your Lord, you can do that today.  Come.  Come and pray with me or with Heather.  Pray to receive forgiveness of sins, to receive Jesus into your heart, and to receive new life right now.  This is your invitation to step in Easter.  As we sing, come, enter the Kingdom of God as a born again child of God.

AMEN

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[i] http://www.religioustolerance.org/easter1.htm

[ii] https://www.etymonline.com/word/easter

By the Name of Jesus Christ (Acts 4:5-14)

Sunday, April 26, 2015

            Who are we?

            On the trips our church takes to Ethiopia, people from there see our group.  They hear us speak English.  They see us emerge from a guest house that is foreigners.  They watch us buy things designed to be sold to tourists.  They may not know our affiliation or that we are there to work with poor children.  But one thing is clear.  We are Americans.

            I travel back to Roanoke and spend time with old high school friends.  We reminisce about good times we spent as kids and a lot of those memories happened in the home where my parents still live.  Whatever else I am, in those moments, I am of the Tennant family.

            Who are we?

            Heather and I and other pastors gather, and it is clear, we are of HillSong Church.  Sometimes in an ecumenical gathering, I am the Baptist in the group.

            American; Tennant; HillSong; Baptist; who am I?  Who are you?  On what do we stand?  What is it that undergirds who we are, how we think and act, and all that we do? 

            It was a key moment for the apostles John and Peter.  Just before they entered the temple, a handicapped man asked for a hand-out.  He had been disabled from birth.  His entire life’s identity was built upon begging.  On what did he stand?  Nothing.  His role in society, his very identity, was that of one who could not stand and could only survive by the generosity of others. 

            Then Peter said, “In the name of Jesus Christ, stand up and walk.”  In the name of Jesus Christ; and this man who have never walked, stood and jumped and leaped and praised God.  Heather discussed this last week in her sermon from Acts 3.  Right there in the temple, Peter preached an impromptu sermon in which he accused the leaders of killing Jesus (3:15) and then invited them to come to faith (3:19, 26).

            On what do we stand?  What authority authorizes the way we live our lives? 

            The leaders in Jerusalem stood on shaky ground according to Peter.  They heard him clearly affix responsibility for the death of Jesus to them.  They saw clearly that Peter and John healed a man everyone knew – a full-grown adult who have never in his life walked.  They felt the movement of history as the crowds flocked to the disciples to hear them talk about salvation in Jesus.  The leaders in the temple needed to cut this off, before it got away from them. 

            The priests, the captain of the temple, and the Sadducees came to them “much annoyed” says Acts 4:2.  These officials of government and religion did not like the claim that in Jesus we have resurrection – his and ours when we put our trust in him.  No, they did not like any of this.  These officials stood on their own unique understanding of scripture, a perspective that assured them of power. 

            Do we dare confess a faith that upsets the conventions of our time?  Tolerance of all religions, which means saying all religions are okay and basically teach the same thing; this sentiment rules in our time.  Do we dare oppose this by saying Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life, and no one comes to the Father except through him? 

An individual person’s individual rights are sacred and not to be threatened in our culture.  We believe in the autonomy of the individual.  At least, that is what we claim to live by.  Do followers of Jesus dare say, no, my rights are not as important fully submitting myself to Jesus as my Lord and my King?

The priests and Sadducees stood on their privilege as leaders.  They expected all in Jerusalem to live by this foundation, so they were furious that the disciples of an already crucified man would continue defying their authority.  But they could not deny what everyone witnessed.  The man with useless legs was now completely healed and jumping around praising God.   

How could they maintain power?  Who were they?  Those in leadership positions in the temple may not have consciously wondered that, but the actions of Peter and John created a crisis for them.  They who understood themselves to be the ones in control now had to face forces beyond their reach.  Verses 14-15 say, “When they saw the boldness of Peter and John and realized that [these] were uneducated and ordinary men, they were amazed and recognized them as companions of Jesus.  When they saw the man who had been cured standing beside them [Peter and John], they [the officials] had nothing to say in opposition.”

All they could do was pose the question.  Their last gasp, their final lurch for control was to name this thing that was happening.  “By what power or by what name did you do this” (4:7)?

On what do we stand? 

What authority authorizes the way we live our lives?

Who are we?  Americans?  Tennants or Asbills, Johnsons or Bakers, Folliards or Sits?  Baptists?  Who or what makes us, drives and defines our actions and attitude, our thoughts, deeds, and words?

All the priests and Sadducees could do was throw the question out into the crowd, into the air, out where all gathered would hear and consider.  All Peter and John could do was give one answer – the only answer they had, the only answer that is true.  “Let it be known that this man is standing in good health by the name of Jesus Christ whom you crucified, whom God raised from the Dead” (4:10).

A few years ago I watched a film produced by an independent Christian film maker.[i]  It was about a couple professors at a Christian college in the late 1800’s.  They were debating morals.  Is it enough to speak and truth and do good works or must our truth and our deed of help and benevolence be done in Jesus’ name.  One professor said as long as good is done; it does not matter if it is in Jesus’ name or simply in the cause of doing what’s right.  His colleague disagreed.  He insisted that unless deeds were done in Jesus’ name, they could not be considered really true or truly good.

The film involves a time machine and caricatures that lack verisimilitude.  I found it silly.  But the debate between these fictional Christian college professors from the 19^th century is fascinating and is timeless.  In any context, we could ask, is a deed good in and of itself?  Simply speaking, yes.  It is good to give food to hungry people.  It is good to provide education to impoverished students so they can develop their minds, reach their potential, get good jobs and climb out of poverty.  These are a few of thousands of examples in which I see non-Christians contributing.  I have seen people who say, “I am not Christian,” contributing to the good of humanity.  Sometimes non-Christians outdo Christ-followers in generosity. 

Yet at a much deeper level, I side with the view that it is not enough to simply do good things.  At some point, after people have been healed, fed, clothed, educated, and given shelter, they gain power.  When they gain power, those who had been holding all of it will feel threatened and a confrontation occurs. 

“By what power or by what name are you doing this?”  The question is inevitable.  When it comes, we need more than groundless claims that love is self-evident and charity is self-evident and compassion is self-evident.  Where do these values come from?  Who are we that we dare stand on these things, and standing on these values, what gives us the gumption to help people? 

Unless we are in Christ, we are speechless.  If we are in Christ, our lives have purpose and we do not lack for words.  His Holy Spirit provides them.  “By what power?”  We answer, “We heal and we feed and we travel and we work and we love and we help in the name of Jesus.  He was crucified by sin, yours and ours.  He was raised by God.”  And we say as Peter said, “There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under given among human beings by which we might be saved” (4:12). 

I do not say any of this to reject the good things unbelievers do to help people in the world.  We have sponsors who support children in Kombolcha, Ethiopia who are not Christian.  We gladly receive their non-Christian sponsorship dollars and I affirm that what they do is helpful and is good. 

I find here in this story, in Peter’s word when the question is put to him that the intent of the Holy Spirit of God and the driving force in Peter’s actions not only heals crippled men at the temple gate and feeds hungry Ethiopian kids.  The driving force also transforms the giver of the gift.  The temple leaders, the Sadducees, some of the most lettered intellectuals of the day were silenced by uneducated fishermen from backwater Galilee.

How could that be?  Peter and John and everyone who acts in the name of Jesus by the name of Jesus speaks and works with power that is beyond what any human possesses. 

On what do we stand?  We stand on the name of Jesus. 

Who are we?  We are a community of followers of the risen, Jesus Christ, the King.  He is our testimony.  He gives meaning to what we do – transcendent, eternal meaning.  He binds us together as a family with God as our Father.  Under His banner, our acts, both the work in our day-to-day lives and the works we do that are explicitly Christian are part of a greater story – the story of the emergence of God’s eternal kingdom.  This included the work of home, vocation (our jobs), and the work of relationships, family, friendships, acquaintances, neighbors, and unexpected encounters.  In all works in every part of life, He is Lord and we speak, act, and think by His name. 

This week, you and I won’t be dragged before officials who want to know why we performed as miracle healing on a handicapped man who has never walked.  The world is different.  We will have opportunities to help people and do good things.  Right now we as a church body are invited to pray that God would ready us, so when those opportunities come, we’ll respond by His name in His power sharing His love.  Fueled by the Holy Spirit we will not only be inclined to do good and helpful things; we will also be ready to respond to anyone who wonders about us by pointing them to Jesus.

Please join me in silent prayer as we, the church, join our hearts together in asking God to fill us, empower us, and ready us to be His witnesses.

Now please join me in this responsive prayer.

Leader: Lord Jesus.

Congregation: You are the risen one.

Leader: Fill us with the hope and the power of the resurrection

Congregation: Help us to speak and act in Your Name.

Leader: Lead us, Lord Jesus.

Congregation: We commit ourselves to you.

AMEN

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[i] http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0295725/?ref_=nm_flmg_act_9

Christmas Day Sermon

For the Christmas Day message, I am going to share my heart as a pastor, as a person, as a Christ-follower in a very personal way. Often in sermons, I criticize much of 21stcentury upper middle class American life. I criticize the patriotism that sees America as more favored than other people. God loves Koreans, Chinese, Libyans, Mexicans, and everyone else as much as Americans. I criticize American consumerism. We buy too much stuff; consume too high a percentage of the world’s resources. American consumerism and materialism is sinfully unjust. In these ways and others, I am critical.

And yet, I love America. I love being an American. I am fortunate enough to travel overseas, and when I do, I go as a representative of the United States. I do so proudly. I feel a sense of mission; it’s like one of the things I must do in an international airport is represent America well. I don’t always succeed. But it is in my mind.

I especially love American Christmas. I know many of my critiques are especially on display at Christmas time. I heard and radio announcer who was doing a read for a jewelry store say, “Whether you are spending $50 or $50,000 ...” and I didn’t another word. $50,000 for a Christmas gift?? Insane! I say that, I love this morning, coming from the bedroom to the Christmas tree and seeing that Santa has come. I love it.

I love coming to the church and singing these hymns, true worship songs that put the birth of Jesus into story set to music. I love Christmas parties. We had several school Thanksgiving and Christmas events for our boys. I love Christmas lights on people’s homes. Our family drives around night after night to see how the town is lit up, acknowledging that this time of year is special. I wouldn’t trade Christmas in North Carolina in the United States for anything.

What I have discovered this year at Christmas is that all the preaching I have done in my time at HillSong has come back to me. Every spiritual challenge has been thrown upon me in this festive time of feasts, time off from work and school, hustle and bustle, and holiday cheer.

I have repeatedly said we can honor God and worship Him and represent Him in the world by doing our normal tasks with excellence. A simple example is a baker who is also a passionately devoted follower of Jesus honors God by baking good bread. His work is an offering. Similarly in our relationships, we strive for excellence. I want to be a great husband and dad, friend and neighbor for the sake of glorifying God. That has been a wonderfully difficult and rewarding challenge and I am acutely aware of how better I need to be –especially as a husband and dad and pastor.

Another mantra of mine, from this pulpit, is that we are called by Jesus himself to share the good news of salvation and forgiveness of sins. All Christians are called to tell about Jesus. Just a couple of weeks ago, UNC student came in asking what she would need to do to be baptized. As she and I walked through the building, I talked about forgiveness and new life in Christ. It was awesome, but, I don’t do enough of that. I have to improve in answering Jesus’ call to evangelism.

Beyond evangelism and beyond praising God by doing the daily thing of work and personal life with excellence, there other ways my own preaching has come back to me this Christmas. But I won’t go into more detail because the important thing is not for you to hear my confession. The important thing is that upon hearing my own story, you get serious about your own relationship with God. Where do you need to improve?

Do you know why I have become so aware of all I have mentioned? I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about evangelism every Christmas. Each year at this time, I don’t pause and think, “Rob, are you practicing what you preach?” This year though, I can’t think of much else. It is intensified in the joy I feel when I am getting things right and in my disappointment when I fail miserably. Why this year I am so concerned about becoming a better Christ-follower?

It’s the scripture – Psalm 97. The Psalms are the worship book in scripture, so this Advent, as a church, we’ve been praying the Psalms as a worshiping body and hopefully as individuals. Psalm 97 is one of the enthronement Psalms. Most Psalms are laments or praises. Some are categorized as Royal Psalms. The smallest category is the enthronement Psalm. Enthronement Psalms are sung only to God, acknowledging God. The Royal Psalms apply to Jesus, but originally they also applied to Israelite Kings. Enthronement Psalms are only for, to, and about God. When we sing an Enthronement Psalm with Jesus in mind, we’re saying Jesus is God.

We’re also saying Jesus is king, an un-American idea. I began my confession this morning saying how much I love the American Christmas traditions in which I have been raised. When Christmas comes around, I am flooded by happy memories.

As a follower of Jesus, I cannot think of his birth and think of carols and nativity scenes. Those things are wonderful, but the birth of Jesus is first and foremost the story of God come to earth. The eternal one stepped out of the limitless beauty of Heaven and the unbound power and majesty of divinity. God stepped out of godhood and into the fragile, perilous form of a human baby. God put on humanity in its rawest forms.

What did the wise men say when they came to see the baby Jesus? “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews” (Mt. 2:2)? They said “King of the Jews,” but they, Persians, knew this king was a king beyond Israel. They dropped everything in their lives because they knew from gazing at the star and studying the ancient Hebrew texts that this king was like no other. Yes, he was a Jew. Yes, they were Persians living in what today we call Iran. It did not matter. They would drop everything and come to him because was not just a king, but the king.

Today, we know how the story went from there. Jesus grew into a man who embraced children when more respectable people would say, “children should be seen and not heard.” Jesus was a teacher who paused to listen to and heal blind roadside beggars when more important people said the beggars should be silent. Jesus was a revolutionary who defeated evil itself by dying on a cross. And he was and is a King who rules with the power of love instead of the power of the sword or gun.

The way we Americans became a nation was by throwing off the yoke of king in a bloody revolution. We declared ourselves independent, fought, and today have a representative democracy. The idea of a king in America today is absurd.

Yet, in reading Psalm 97, I have felt more than ever, that the birth of Jesus, the season of Christmas, is a reminded that I am first and foremost a child of God. Being an American comes after that. As a child of God, born again in Jesus Christ, I am called to take on the yoke of a king.

My work as a writer of sermons and visitor to hospitals and spiritual counselor and church administrator is to be done at the pleasure of the king. My life as a husband, a dad, a son, a brother, a neighbor, a sports fan, a Carolinian – it is to be lived at the pleasure of the king. At any point, should the king command a change, it is to be made. At any point, should the king interrupt my daily life, I welcome the interruption. At all points, I am mindful that God is always present and I am always to love others as He has loved me and to act as he would have me act.

Of course, I am telling you my intent. There are moments when I succeed. In many others, I come up short. The UNC student I mentioned earlier who came in confessed to some pretty significant sins as she and I walked through the building. Right at the moment she was pouring her heart out, we were in this room, and I was able to point up to the cross and explain that Jesus covers our sins and we are forgiven. Right now, as I tell you my intent to live every moment of life in service to the king and I acknowledge how frequently I come up short, I turn myself to the cross. I am reminded that I am washed in grace.

I am also aware of what Jesus said. A moment ago, I recalled that America threw off the yoke of a king. As Christ-followers we take on the yoke of King Jesus. Do you know what a yoke is? It is a large, heavy wooden brace that connect two oxen together. Then the farmer can come behind and drive the oxen wherever he wants them to go. When we take on the yoke of Jesus, we are enslaved to God. We go wherever King Jesus directs us.

The good news is Jesus said, “Come to me all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light”(Mt. 11:28-30). The heavy yoke laid on oxen means heavy work is ahead. The yoke of King Jesus brings rest and revives the soul.

It’s a paradox. The more love we give, the more we have. The more we die to self and give ourselves to Christ, the more life we have. And the closing verses of Psalm 97 become our Christmas confession and our everyday reality.

“Light dawns for the righteous, and joy for the upright in heart. Rejoice in the Lord, O you righteous, and give thanks to his holy name” (97:11-12)!

The call I have felt to be a better dad and to be better in evangelism and to do it all for the sake of bringing glory to God is invitation to take on Jesus’ easy yoke and light burden. It is the reality that my life is lived in absolute slavery with Jesus as my master, and at the same time there is no freedom like the freedom one has when yoked with Him. To do more is to have more rest. It cannot be understood except by those who know the baby in the manger is the eternal King of all Kings.

Christmas is His day. Every day is His. I am thankful for what a blessing it is to know that, and I am thankful God has, this year, called me to live in that reality.

AMEN