The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. Go! I am sending you… –Jesus

Rebekah has been reading the Lord of the Rings Trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkein to me as we drive along the Missouri roadways visiting churches and speaking about Mexico. It’s a wonderful thing, hearing my daughter read what to me is a classic piece of literature. It is classic because, even decades after it was written, its message can still be heard and applied.

The story is basically about Hobbits, small and self-sufficient creatures, sheltered from the world, suspicious of strangers, with eyes that look no further than their bit of earth beyond their little holes. They had heard rumors of what went on outside their borders, but their small existence kept them from comprehending the ramifications of those strange and foreign goings on in their day to day lives. Until, one day, a not so adventurous Hobbit named Bilbo got swept off of his feet into an adventure. Suddenly, the hope of the world depended on this small, shy, and unassuming lot.

The disciples too had not seemed to seek out the adventure that they found themselves in as followers of Jesus. Most of them were outsiders, blue-collar workers more concerned with the ebb and flow of the Sea of Galilee than of the rise and fall of the religious “powers that were” in Jerusalem to the south. They busied themselves in their own routine of catching fish or collecting taxes, perhaps much like the Hobbits, without even categories to speak about saving the world. That is until Jesus came, and with the words, “Follow me,” they too were swept off of their feet, suddenly at the center of God’s plan to redeem mankind.

They had, no doubt, seen the harvest field before, but not as Jesus had shown it to them. It was a harvest, not of grain, but of souls. A common scene was given new meaning, and a common need, that of workers to bring in the harvest, was given new importance.

So Jesus called them, not to mobilization, but to prayer. However, as they prayed, they found that the answer was to be found within their own small band. The appeal to pray was not an impersonal one. It was not a way to “pass the buck.” It was a way to hear the cry of God saying, ” Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?” and to respond as Isaiah, “Here am I. Send me,” or as the disciples with their feet as Jesus said, “Go! I am sending you…”

Let’s bring this, then, out of the realm of fantasy and out of the distant past to where we go about our daily lives. We wake. We work. We eat. We sleep. We certainly hear and see more than the Hobbits or the disciples, but too often those impersonal rumors on talk radio or the digital images on the screen seem incapable of grabbing us, seemingly impotent at their attempts to move us.

Except when we pray, and, all of a sudden, what seemed so far away has reached out and touched our hearts, and we hear the cry, “Who will go?” and we find ourselves, in our own small voice responding as Frodo the Hobbit before the leaders at the Council of Elrond, “I will (go), though I do not know the way.”

It is a dangerous business, therefore, to pray, but what more exciting business could you ever hope to aspire to?

Photo “Archway” by Syriloth on Flickr

As part of the theme, video clips were shown during the large group meetings, showing how several of our missionary colleagues had seen God help them realize dreams that He had given them. There were those who had planted now thriving churches and those who had birthed ministries that are now international in scope. There were reports of high-powered children’s ministries teams and thriving national missions departments sending missionaries from the mission field to all corners of the world. Truly, things are happening in our region!

Still, for all of the encouragement that such videos bring, I couldn’t help but ask the question, “…and the Godzwas? What have we done in comparison?” The progress that we have made all of a sudden seemed to pale in comparison to the reports of victory being broadcast before our eyes. On top of this, our son Jonathan had come down with a fever, leaving Kelly and I taking shifts staying in the hotel room with him, instead of participating as we had expected.

I was in a funk by the time Doug Clay took the stage to talk about restoring the joy of our calling to the ministry. As he finished his sermon, he asked for those who would like to experience a fresh touch of that joy to meet him at the altar. I walked forward, knowing that that was something I needed. A group gathered around the altar, and after a time of individual prayer, Doug led us in an exercise. He told us to look around and find a partner ten years removed from our age. As I looked to the left, standing beside me as Dale Coad who, 17 years prior, was a missionary on the field in the Dominican Republic where Kelly and I had taken our first short-term missions trip. As the speaker told us to join hands, I reflected on the time I had spent there on the mission field with Dale and his wife Patti. I remembered wondering, as I watched them go through their day to day ministry, “Do I have what it takes to be a like them? Do I have what it takes to be a missionary?” Now I was standing next to him as a co-worker singing, “He has made me glad!”

We then were told to widen the circle, and there, in our group stood Ron Hittenberger, a missionary that attended AGTS with me when I was in the first year of my masters degree program. At that time in my life, the mission field seemed farther away then when I was 18. I had a growing family and an uphill climb to complete my studies, but here we now stood together in our circle, Dale, Ron and I, along with other missionaries, sharing in the joy of the realization of our dream of serving our master on foreign soil.

It was unmistakable. God “opened my eyes” that night to see past the little pity party that I was giving myself. He has made my dream come true. He has completed what He had promised, and what He had confirmed so many times before has become a reality. I am a missionary!

Of course, this is only the beginning. God has bigger dreams, dreams I am only now becoming aware of after spending the last four years on the field. One such dreams is the dream of a relevant, outward-focused, Mexican church that reaches across cultural boundaries and generational assumptions to practice true Christianity in everyday situations. God has done it before in my life and in the lives of so many whose testimony was on display during our retreat; He can do it again.

How about you? What dreams have you seen God bring to fruition? What dreams does God have you dreaming right now?

The problem to solve in this episode? The Spirit of Christmas, in the form of and icicle, was melting away. No, it wasn’t because of global warming or climate change, however it is referred to these days. It was because people all over the world had forgotten the true meaning of Christmas, which, from what I could gather from my mobile eavesdropping on the movie, was watching Christmas tree lightings and singing Christmas carols. Now, while this favorite time of the year has traditionally been kicked off in our household with the decorating of the tree accompanied by Nat King Cole’s version of the “Christmas Song,” it would appear that “Santa Buddies” has the trimmings mixed up with what Christmas is really about.

The Star of Bethlehem

This brings us to a presentation that we had the opportunity to hear last Wednesday. Richard Hammar talked, from his extensive knowledge of astronomy, about what he felt the Star of Bethlehem, the star that led the Wise Men to the child Jesus, really was. As he dismissed several theories, he made mention of what one scientist at the NASA Jet Propulsion Center said. He said that he felt the Star of Bethlehem was a comet, because that would have been the most impressive astronomical event that could have been observed. Now this was said even though a comet would not have fit any of the evidence that the biblical record presents.

OK, you’re wondering, “What does the Star of Bethlehem” have to do with “Santa Buddies.” Give me a minute to explain. I can make the Star of Bethlehem to be whatever I want it to be if I don’t accept the reality of the historical birth of the Christ Child. I can confuse Christmas traditions for the reason for the season if I reduce the Christmas story to just another fable or fairy tale. What it all amounts to is a lot of heat without light. It may warm our spirits through December 25th, but it leaves us with Christmas hangover and little else when the bills come due in January.

Hammar concluded that a miracle occurred to lead the Wise Men to Jesus. He stated that the glory of God was what formed the star that shone on the stable the first Christmas morning and what eventually guided the Magi to the place where they found the one who would be the Savior of all humankind. And while not all who lived at that time could see the light, those that sought the Messiah, the shepherds and later the Wise Men could. I believe this still holds true today.

So as we complete our shopping and scurry to put together the “Perfect Christmas,” lets take some time to look to the reality that made this season special. Let’s turn again the the truth that God came near, that His light shone in the darkness and illuminated the way to restore our relationship with Him.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from our family to yours!

Still, what I have found out since then is that what works with machines and operating systems rarely applies directly to work with people. Some events that have happened this week have brought this reality into better focus for me.

AGTS Day of Renewal: Each year, the Assemblies of God Theological Seminary has a Day of Renewal, a time when they set aside the day to day practice to focus in on their pursuit of God as a corporate body. This year, being in the US, I had the opportunity to attend the morning service. In it, Dr. Sheri Benvenuti spoke of her impatience with others and what she thought were their petty problems until her eyes were opened through her own suffering. She said that that suffering, combined with the pentecostal experience enables us to comprehend the situation of those around us in a whole new way that facilitates true ministry.

Ezra Chapter 9: My Bible reading has me currently in the book of Ezra. In chapter 9, he is alerted to a grave problem. The Jews who had returned from Babylon were falling into their old ways. They had married wives from among the pagan nations who had led them astray before the they had been taken away to captivity.

Something had to be done. One would expect the scribe Ezra to sit down at his desk and begin dialing the offenders one by one in order to schedule their discipline meetings, but instead he tears his clothes, sits down in the dust and weeps over the situation.

A conversation with my dad: My dad spoke to me today asking for advice: How do you get a person to see the error of their ways and accept the logical solution, be it spiritual or social? So often, he related, he was met with the rejection, “You just don’t understand what I’m going through.”

Each one of these situations seems against us fixers and our desire to rush in with the solution. Of course it’s not that the people don’t need a solution, but rather we fixers forget that true comprehension of the situation is the first step to solving the problem.

Now, I’m not just talking about hearing all sides of the story. I’m talking about feeling the pain of the situation along with those who are suffering. Dr. Benvenuti admitted that she was quick with the solution before her personal pain, but now she more effectively ministers because she’s “been there” with those who suffer. Ezra hadn’t sinned, and certainly he had the right and the responsibility to meat out justice for the wrongdoers, but it was his public display of sorrow, not his administrative prowess that bought about a spontaneous renewal of the population. Furthermore, the offenders were the ones who carried out the solution to the problem, not Ezra.

So it would seem that people need to see more than the error of their ways. They need more than some set of logical steps to a better life. They need someone to weep with them over their present situation. They need to see that there is someone who truly cares enough to comprehend–to treat them as fellow human being and not just as a problem to be fixed.

A challenge for us “fixers?” To be sure. Still, when it comes to people, God has called us to do more than fix; He’s called us to love.

2009 Bethel Graduation

Since we’ve been in Mexico, we’ve witnessed the passing of a generation. No, we haven’t been here in Mérida for 20+ years, although looking at the growth of our kids during this term has made me wonder at times. I’m talking about the recent Bible Institute graduation service celebrated this past Monday, where Generation 06-09, walked the platform to receive their diplomas from the District Superintendent. This marks a milestone as it means that the students that I had the chance to teach from the first year of their Bible school experience are now being launched into ministry. The freshmen from my Personal Cvangelism course of December 2006-February 2007, my first solo class taught in Spanish, are now moving into their vocations.

Watching them receive their charge as graduates I had mixed feelings. There is a sense of joy in knowing that I had a part in their formation as ministers, but there is also a sense of regret. So often I had wished that I could have had certain sessions over again, where my lessons could have been more polished. On more than one occasion I’ve wish that I could have another chance at conversations that I’ve had knowing now that my Spanish could have been more understandable. In spite of my wishing, though, what was taught was taught, and the encouragement, advice, and prayers have been spoken. And that’s OK, because I believe that, though at times stammering or searching for the words, we communicated. As we learned we grew, each one of us offering to the other what we could not acquire on our own.

It wasn’t by chance that God brought me together with this generation at this moment in our lives. I so as I said goodbye to each one I prayed that as we part our ways, the graduates to their respective positions, and my family and I to the US to intinerate, that God will help us to remember the ways in which our being together expressed the manifold wisdom of God (Eph 3:10) that saw fit to join us together during their generation in the Bible school.

As the Agustín, the gardener, was removing the remnant weeds, he looked over what used to be a flower border. “You want me to take these out too?” he asked. The border was a disaster; it looked like a mess of limp grass. Still, I said, “Let’s keep it. Maybe it’ll grow back.” So the limp-grass-once-upon-a-time-flower-boarder remained. Perhaps just to suck up water that would be better spent on the new lawn, I thought, but I had hope.

And that hope wasn’t disappointed. After about one week of watering, one sunny morning I was greeted by the picture above–dozens of tiny white flowers where once only limp grass stood. It was amazing to see the power of life in what seemed to be a hopeless situation.

Nevertheless, a dying flowerbed pales in comparison with the hopeless situations that many of us face. While we’ve been on the field, we’ve watched sadly as many of our friends were hit with what seem to be knock-out punches–unemployment, sickness, and divorce just to name a few. They are situations that are devastating for the parties involved and that leave those of us who must watch confused and questioning. “What is going on?” we ask, “Where is God in all of this?”

Of course, we have just celebrated the triumphant outcome of another seemingly hopeless situation–the resurrection of Jesus after a his death on the cross. The disciples had fled for their lives. Peter had gone as far as denying that he had ever known his former teacher. Jesus Himself, while dying cried out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” The situation was irrevocable, or so it seemed. Nevertheless, just when it had seemed that God’s plan had been checkmated, the table was turned and the outcome was forever changed. That is the reality of Resurrection Sunday, the reality that still reverberates even two thousand years after the event.

I was reading Amy Maxwell’s blog the other day, when I happened upon some free music downloads. One of the songs, Rescue, by Ten Shekel Shirt, caught my attention when I was in the middle of thinking about one of my friends’ seemingly hopeless situation. The chorus of the song reads, speaking of God’s power:

You rescue, you redeem
You save, you intervene
You rescue, you redeem
Our lives, the stories of our lives.

It’s true. As the flowers reappeared from the dust of our yard, so God is able to redeem us even in the most difficult of situations. Like the prodigal son who’d cast away the riches he’d demanded, if we turn to Him, God is ready to receive us and restore us as His sons and daughters, even if we have squandered the chances we’ve been given.

So, if you have a chance to download the song, I highly recommend it, and if you happen to be in one of those seemingly hopeless situations, or know someone is going through one, renew your hope in the fact that God redeems. His empty tomb stands as a testimony to the fact that a restored life is possible.

Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. –Luke 23:34

Beaten, bloody and tired, Jesus now hung from the cross. Just hours before, He moved freely about the city, teaching and celebrating the Passover with His disciples, but now He had been arrested, judged, and condemned. The hands that had healed the sick, the arms that had reached out to children, the feet that had walked in search of the lost had been stopped–nailed unjustly to the wood.

Jesus, the only truly innocent one of all now paid a debt that He didn’t owe. He never blasphemed God, yet the priests handed Him over to Pilate for this offense. He never tried to raise up a rebellion against Rome, but over His head was the charge, “Jesus, King of the Jews.”

In this moment, He exemplified the classic picture of a victim: a man who, for no fault of his own had to suffer. Nevertheless, Jesus Himself rejected this description. Moments before, Jesus redirected the pity of the women who had met him on the way saying, “Don’t cry for me. Cry for yourselves and your children instead.” In front of Pilate, Jesus rejected his intervention, explaining that that the authority that He recognized came from a place higher than Rome, and in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus allowed His power to flow when the soldiers who came to arrest Him fell down before Him. Obviously, it was something else that held Him to the cross.

It was love. It was the power of the only One who knew what He was doing. Among all of those who played a part in His crucifixion, Jesus was the only one truly free. The others were like the priests, who had been blinded by their rage, or like Pilate, deceived by his supposed authority, or like His disciples, trapped by their fear. Jesus suffered from none of these delusions.

From the beginning, Jesus understood his purpose–to give His life as a ransom for us all. Whatever doubt that he had held on to left at the Garden with his declaration, “Father, not my will, but yours be done.” Now with these words, “Father, forgive them,” He shows the culmination of His power. Jesús, as the only one who never sinned, as the only one who remained pure, as the only God-Man, refused His right of vengeance, and in that moment, in that act of pure love, He granted them their pardon.

He freed those who were still cursing Him, those who couldn’t understand that that man on the cross was their only hope They didn’t know what they were doing, but Jesus knew. He knew that it would mean His humiliation and His death but even so, He did it. What is more, in His love He removed their guilt.

But it wasn’t only the soldiers and the priests and Pilate that crucified Jesus on that day some two thousand years ago. You and I are responsible as well. The Bible says that all of us had gone astray to commit sin, and Jesus carried all of those sins on the cross. He died for us even when we had not yet realized our need for Him. In other words, while we were blind like the priests, or deceived like Pilate or tormented like His disciples, Jesus extended His forgiveness to us. He removed our guilt for His death from us as well.

In addition, with the words, “Father forgive them,” Jesus extends to us an opportunity. Jesus promised, before He returned to the Father that, in this word we would have trouble, but counseled us to take heart, for He had overcome the world. But, how did He overcome? Certainly not by His miracles or by His teaching, because, having done all of that they still crucified Him. No, He conquered it through His love–the love that put up with rejection, that endured the Roman lashing, and that suffered the crucifixion, the love that gave forgiveness instead of condemnation. And we, being His hands and feet can follow Him in His example.

What problems do we have? Abandonment? Rejection? Pain? Jesus suffered all of these, but never became their victim. Now, what will we do? We have the opportunity to triumph with Jesus. We have the opportunity, today, to extend forgiveness. Maybe those who have mistreated us don’t deserve it, but neither did we, and we accepted it. Let’s follow Christ then. Let’s be victors and offer, like Him, forgiveness.

Seminar participants raise The Lord's cellphones.

Stuff. We all have it, and it seems that there is no end to the amount that we accumulate. From flat panel giant screens to the latest GPS system for our car, there are countless items on our wish list as “must haves” that weren’t even on our radar screen a few years ago. Now, as we can justify the usefulness of such items, we ask, as we watch what the future holds , do we really need them?

It’s really no different here in Mexico. Case in point: I was doing holding a talk in the town of Chunchucmil. As I was nearing the place we were to hold the meeting, I reached for my cell phone to make a quick call to the pastor. However, in this small town near the Campeche/Yucatan border, there was no signal. Nevertheless, as I entered the church, I noticed that it seemed that everyone, including some kids, had cell phones. Behold, the power of advertising! The basic idea is this: you need a cell phone, even if you can’t use it where you live.

It all boils down to this question: our stuff–are we controlling it, or is it controlling us? I’ll be the first to admit my love for gadgets, but has this “technolust” boiled over to the point where we’ve scalded our reason? A family loses its house because it can’t pay the mortgage, but it owns two large screen TVs. Another can’t put food on the table, but owns three computers. What’s going on?

Our priorities are out of whack. For that reason, we’ve been excited to have been able to tour the district with our stewardship seminar. It is a two part series, based on the Howard Dayton book, Your Money Counts. It’s goal is to get its participants to understand that in order to achieve freedom to follow God’s will for our lives, we must recognize and submit to His plan for our finances.

Part of that plan is turning over everything that we have to it’s rightful owner, namely, God. It’s a liberating exercise in that it helps us to relinquish the worry that our stuff produces in us, and to depend upon God again for our needs. It also inoculates us from the power these things can have over us, helping us to recognize that proper stewardship, which leads to the freedom to follow God wherever He leads, may ask us to forgo certain items, like say recharging that cell phone instead of paying down debts.

The picture above is of our most recent event, where I asked the question following the exercise, “How many of us are carrying the Lord’s cell phone?” It’s encouraging to see the response as those who perhaps had previously lived “compartmentalized” began to recognize the role that God plays in every facet of our life.

How about you? In this economic crisis, have you taken time to reflect on your stewardship practices? If you have a minute, why don’t you drop us a line and share with us what you’ve discovered.

Teaching in Opichen

Around this time of the year, I start to get anxious. It’s been almost three months since the end of the World Series, and we’ve got only a few short weeks until pitchers and catchers report to start the 2009 baseball season. I’m looking forward to the date with anticipation, knowing that soon they’ll be playing baseball, and hoping that this will be the season that the Yankees win it all again.

In order to prepare, I start to watch baseball movies. One such movie is The Rookie , that Disney released some years ago. It’s the story of a high school science teacher who gets another shot at playing in the majors. In one scene, travailing in the minor leagues, traveling the lonely miles and feeling the pressure of his responsibilities at home, he decides to throw in the towel. “I’m just wasting my time,” he says to his wife over the phone. She asks back, referring the the game, “Do you still love it?”

He hangs up the phone and goes for a walk to think it over once again. Along the way, he encounters a night little league game, and in it he finds the joy and the hope in the game that he played as a child and had been given a chance to return to as an adult. With a renewed outlook, he heads back to the locker room. As he enters he asks another player, “Do you know what we get to do today?” Then, answering his own question he says, “We get to play baseball.”

Why am I waxing eloquent about baseball? Because I’ve been thinking about our job as missionaries. Lately, we’ve been really busy, rushing from place to place. I celebrated my daughter’s birthday on Saturday and directly after I was teaching our first session of the District Stewardship conferences that I had been invited to teach. Since that time, I’ve been on the road 3 of the past 4 nights, getting to bed later each night. When this finishes, I’ll be on the road again, this time to help in an evangelistic campaign that will take place two hours outside of Merida, where we have our home.

At times like these, I find myself missing my family, looking forward to getting home, and sometimes wishing that the events would be over. But then I have to ask myself what it is that I am actually doing. I received the call to missions when I was 15 years old, and since that time, my life had been centered around making it to the field. We prepared ourselves, obtained the necessary approvals, and raised funds for the purpose of becoming missionaries. Now, we’re doing it. How many times have I hoped, prayed, and dreamed of the day that God would allow us to make it to the field, and now it’s a reality.

Thinking about it again I’d have to say that, sure there are times when we find it hard, but we’re doing what we’re called to do. God’s fulfilled our dream, and every moment that we have here is another moment that we get to step out into another adventure with our Lord.

So I want to say thanks to all of you who have had a part in helping us to get here and stay here. I’d also like to ask you to pray for us. Pray that the words that we say would be what God would ask us to share, and pray that these events will reach the people that He’s preparing. And while you’re doing that, stop for a moment and thank God for the journey that you’re on with Him. After all, “We get to play baseball!”

Thumbnail appearing on the excerpt of this article from B Tal’s photostream on Flickr.com

While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
–Luke 2:6-7

The temperature has dipped and another page on the calendar has turned. The holiday sales have begun, and the bonuses are being paid (“El aguinaldo” or 13th month of pay is a right of the worker in many Latin countries.) It’s official, the holiday season has begun. In our house, the tree is trimmed and the manger scene has been set as our thoughts turn toward December 25th and the celebration that is Christmas.

Still, though, I’ve been wondering lately. Although it seems that this is a season that we anticipate from the start of the year, could it be that it has caught us unaware? Although we’ve made the preparations in our homes and our budgets, have we overlooked Christmas in our minds and hearts? Will Christ be relegated to the outer confines of our lives because there is no room for the what He desires to bring into our lives?

Two thousand years ago, Jesus left the glory of heaven to become flesh and live among us. God literally broke into history to take up residence here on earth. Luke allows no questions about this fact, dating the time, “in the days that Caesar Augustus issued a decree” and the place, “Bethlehem the town of David,” that Immanuel, God with us, was born into this world.

The God who fills the heavens had come down. He who in the Old Testament could not be approached but once a year, and only then according to a strict ritual, had decided to take up permanent residence among us. He who invoked fear in the hearts of His people who dared not come near to the Mountain of the Lord in the book of Exodus, now invited this world to reach out, to touch Him, to hold Him near to their hearts.

Still, we read that this God-child received a less than wholehearted reception. Instead of a royal palace and a team of mid-wives to ensure a successful delivery, his birthplace was a less than accommodating stable. Luke, the physician, mentions no attendants at the birth of the Savior, instead we see the image of a solitary woman wrapping her new-born in the cloths that she could find and placing him in a bed borrowed from the animals that dozed nearby. A misfortune wasn’t it, that Joseph couldn’t find a spare room on this night of nights, or was it? Was the holy family turned away because they lacked reservations or because the innkeeper simply didn’t want to receive the new-born king?

No room could mean a lack of space, but it could also mean discrimination. The Jews during the time of Jesus followed strict laws of ceremonial purity. Those who desired to worship had to follow a strict dietary code as well as avoid situations–sicknesses and certain household uncleanliness that would contaminate this purity. One of those situations that a faithful Jew needed to avoid in order to maintain their ceremonial purity was the birth of a child.

The woman who gave birth during this time would be unclean for at least seven days. For those seven days, she would have to withdraw herself from contact with others. Those who were unfortunate enough to have contact with her would be subjected to a bath and be unclean at least until the end of that day. So it would have been in the best interests of any self-respecting businessman or head of the household, if in fact the inn was nothing more than a guest room, to shut out the hassle and potential contamination that a first-century birth would bring. Therefore, it is a distinct possibility that the conditions that Mary and Joseph faced were brought about because the people who received them just didn’t want to be bothered.

The shepherd boy: Truth or Fiction?

This certainly seems to work together with the surrounding details. Directly following the account of Christ’s birth we read of the angel’s announcement to the shepherds. For this reason, our Nativity scenes usually include a rosy-cheeked boy with a lamb around his shoulders–a placid picture of what we consider a pleasant occupation, but reality presents a different situation. Shepherds in this day were the outcasts of society, a smelly dirty lot, so disdained that they were inadmissible as witnesses in a court of law. And therein lies the irony, who better to witness to the birth of an outcast king than this society of outcasts?

There we have the original Christmas scene. Jesus, God made man had come down, but instead of receiving Him, His own people shut him out. They looked on Him as a problem to be avoided, a situation to be deal with instead of a King to be worshiped.

Over two-thousand years have passed since that day, but still the question nags me. Have we truly received the Christ that we celebrate during this season, or have we continued to shut Jesus out in the cold? Of course, it’s possible that each of us place the nativity scene in a central location in the house, and we might proudly wear our buttons that read “Jesus is the reason for the Season,” but does He still exist on the fringes of our lives? Many of us adore the child of Christmas, but have we prepared ourselves to receive the Christ of Christmas?

A case of mistaken identity

One time, I was walking on the campus of Evangel University. I was working there while a group of Chi Alpha campus pastors were meeting. In this group were several that knew my twin brother, Mike, but had never met me. On this day, as several members of this group approached me, they began to greet me as if we had know each other for some time, but I was, in their eyes, oddly silent, unable to return their greeting. When I asked them if perhaps they had mistaken me for my brother, they thought that I was joking. Only when I produced my driver’s license did they understand their error.

How do we see the Christ of Christmas?

Perhaps, as we get closer to Christmas, we’ve committed the same error. Perhaps we’ve mistaken Jesus for someone He isn’t–a baby and nothing more, or much worse just something to fit into our schedules that are overwhelmed with activities, gifts to buy, and family to visit.

Jesus is so much more than that, but in order to find out who this Christ of Christmas, we need to open our Bibles to the ninth chapter of the book of Isaiah and the sixth verse. There, we find the hope of a Messiah that the Jewish people had, and there we find the complete identity of the Savior whose birthday we celebrate.

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Wonderful Counselor (With recognition given to Dallas Willard for much of this content.)

The age in which we live is called the Information Age. CNN the 24 hour news network has as it’s tag line, “Because you need to know. Always.” (Translated tag line from CNN en español.) Those that know, win. Those that don’t, lose. Therefore, when we look for someone who can give us advice, we usually look for those who are the most up-to-date in our area of need.

But what happens to Jesus in this Information Age? If he remains as a baby in a manger, we push him aside. Statistics state that the majority of Christians don’t consider Jesus as someone who has reliable information about their lives. Not even one in a 1,000 people would describe him as well-informed, brilliant, or intelligent, but could we imagine that Jesus could be Lord if he wasn’t intelligent? Being divine, could he be dumb? I believe that our response has to be no.

Like Isaiah says, this child, our Savior Jesus Christ is the Wonderful Counselor. Paul the Apostle says that Jesus is the one in whom is hidden all of the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Still, how do we accept Him in this way if we’ve lost our respect for Him as one who can inform our present situation? We can start by letting Him redefine our existence.

During the Christmas season, I believe more than the rest of the year, we experience the struggle between the world’s way of thinking and that of the Bible. The world tells us that the children that have the most gifts are the happiest, as are the parents that are able to buy them, but in this commercialization of Christmas, we can see the world’s philosophy–the lust of the eyes and the boasting of what man can do–creeping into our hearts and minds.

On the other hand, Jesus says to us that we are more than our bank account or the sum total of our possessions; we are eternal beings that need to know God more than the latest fashions. Therefore, if we really are eternal beings, we must understand that true happiness doesn’t come from what we can get at Wal-Mart on Black Friday but instead from our growing dependence on Christ’s counsel for our lives.

A stanza of the hymn “The Steps of the Master” reads:

I want to follow the steps of the Master.
I want follow my King and my Savior,
And allowing Him to mold my character
I sing with joy to my Redeemer.

When we reach the point of recognizing the Christ of Christmas, our Wonderful Counselor, we won’t only sing these words, we will live them.

Mighty God and Everlasting Father

This seems to be the paradox of all time. How I wish that I had been with Isaiah when he penned the those words. How can a child be God Almighty and a baby the Everlasting Father? Certainly the innkeeper couldn’t understand that the child that Mary carried was his Creator. If he had, he certainly would not have denied Him a room on that day.

Jesus’ neighbors couldn’t recognize this either. When He taught them, years later, in his hometown of Nazareth they marveled at His words and asked, “Isn’t this Joseph’s boy?”

Even His disciples, those who had placed their faith in Him, failed to understand who He was. Philip, one of the twelve who had been with Jesus from the beginning asked, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough.” He couldn’t see that Jesus was, as the writer of Hebrews tells, the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of His being, sustaining all things by His powerful word.

And we as we unwrap and hold that porcelain figure of the baby Jesus in our hand we are just as incredulous; how can it be that this baby so beautiful, so innocent, can hold together all things? We forget the fact that this child grew to become the One who fed the multitudes, the One who healed all those who came to Him. The One who defeated the powers of darkness, humiliating them by His death on the cross, and the One who triumphed over even the grave with his resurrection on the third day. We take Him for nothing more than a baby.

Maybe it is for this reason that He remains in the perimeter of our lives. We have problems with our health, our families, our faithfulness, but we have the tendency to hide it as if we were trying to hide candy out of the reach of a child. Have we forgotten that the child that was born on that night was God Himself? Have we forgotten that He still lives and is waiting to help us, to guide us along the path that we should take? Have we forgotten that this child is the One who knew us even before we were born?

Prince of Peace

Imagine the scene. Jesus had arrived, and what’s more, He arrived early. There was so much to do: dishes to wash, a table to set, food to prepare. And, instead of helping, it seemed as if everyone had sat to hear Him talk. This was the situation of poor Martha.

In the manner that Luke describes it in the tenth chapter of his gospel we can almost see her going in circles in her kitchen. “But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made.” And the frustration grew with each circle until she exploded and said to Jesus, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

But Jesus’ correction reveals the problem:

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Christmas can be a season of stress much like the first two thousand years ago, but now, instead of a census that calls us to travel, the calls of relatives urge us to leave. Or maybe it’s our turn to host the family. We have to prepare the house, buy the gifts, and make the traditional meal, all in order to celebrate this special holiday. We’re upset, worried about lots of things. Maybe we’re lacking peace because we haven’t recognized this Prince of Peace. Like Martha we treat Him like any other guest when in our home is One who can calm us and speak to the storm, “Quiet! Be still!”

Thinking about my attitudes, I have to admit that I’ve failed to recognize the One that we celebrate each Christmas. There are times when I act like the innkeeper, worried more about completing my list of chores than about preparing a place for my King. It bothers me that Jesus might yet remain outside of His central place in my life, but tonight He makes us another invitation.

Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.

Jesus, the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace, wants to live with us this Christmas.

Maybe up until this moment we’ve failed to recognize His voice, but He continues to call. Maybe we’ve been worried about other things, but He waits for us. Why don’t we draw close to Him this Christmas? Why don’t we get to know Him as He is, the Master of our lives, the Author and Finisher of our faith and He who can give us the peace that passes all understanding. Why don’t we invite Him to to enter our lives this right here and right now?