instrument of incarnation

During this season of Advent, I have had a heightened sense of anticipation about the arrival of the newborn King. As I have had the privilege of being involved in worship planning for our Advent services at Immanuel, as I have listened intently to my pastor's thought-provoking sermons, as I have read Scripture aloud in worship, as I have listened to choirs sing, as I have sat quietly alone in a beautifully decorated sanctuary during my morning devotions, the story of Christ's birth has fallen freshly upon my ears. With childlike wonder I have been struck by the vibrancy of the story. As Mary contemplated all the events surrounding the birth of her precious son, Luke tells us that she "treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart" (Luke 2:19). Like Mary, I have been doing a lot of pondering these days.

One morning this week I came across these words in Calvin Miller's The Christ of Christmas: Readings for Advent: "How much convincing does it really take to share with someone the blessings of Christmas? The world rarely responds to our profound arguments. It is rarely moved by our wise perspectives, even when we present them well. It is more often won by our thoughtfulness than our theology. It is more often drawn to God by His presence in our lives than by our persuasion. It is our Christ, not our creed, which captures people's hearts." In his concluding prayer, Miller wrote: "Lord, make me an instrument of your incarnation. Live in me until my life is so submerged in Yours that I am invisible. Wherever I go, whatever I do, may I hear those around me breathe the word Immanuel, suggesting that I am nothing and You are everything."

What does it look like to be an instrument of incarnation? That's what I'm pondering today.

career choices

This evening when I was on a quest to find a particular memento in my childhood scrapbook, I discovered the "Career Planning Report" I received in the ninth grade after taking a differential aptitude test. According to this informative report, my first choice of career goals was in the "Literary and Legal" group. "The occupational group which you name fits well with the school subjects and activities that you like," the report stated. "It also matches your educational plans and your tested aptitudes. On the basis of these facts, it looks like an occupational field which is a good match for your abilities and interests."

With great interest, I flipped the report over to learn which careers fell within the "Literary and Legal" group. Five choices were offered: book critic, librarian, editor, lawyer, and reporter. While I did aspire to be a reporter for a stretch during my childhood - when I was in the sixth grade I briefly published a newspaper that featured my own reporting on major league baseball games, with a strong emphasis on the Cincinnati Reds - I never considered any of the other four options.

Curious, I began to read through the groups of jobs and occupations listed on the back of the report to see which category "pastor" fell into, and I was surprised to discover that no ministerial career options were included at all. The closest thing I could find was the "Education and Human Welfare" category, which included: school teacher, college professor, guidance counselor, social worker, and clinical psychologist. I never considered any of those options either, despite the influence of my mother (school teacher) and my father (college professor).

I found the following instructive words in the report's fine print: "Remember that this report tells you how things look at the present time, and that your interests and goals may change." Indeed. I imagine that the percentage of high school freshmen who accurately predict their career path is fairly low. Not only may their interests and goals change over time, but they may discover career options that have never been on their radar screens - or their career planning reports. Thanks be to God, who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us (Eph. 3:20).

The Christ of Christmas

In my devotions during Advent, I am using The Christ of Christmas: Readings for Advent by Dr. Calvin Miller. I had Dr. Miller for five classes at Beeson Divinity School - three preaching classes, one on church leadership, and a memorable course called "The Writing Minister." At the beginning of today's devotion on Luke 1:28-30, Dr. Miller writes: "A God big enough to make you afraid is powerful enough to accomplish all He is about to ask of you."

Do not be afraid, the Lord insists. That's easier said than done, I respond. The prayer that accompanies today's devotion speaks to anyone who has wrestled with feelings of inadequacy in the wake of God's call: "Lord, may I quit trying to figure out the mathematics of grace. You have chosen me because it is Your nature to use the bewildered. And that is enough for me. What would you have me to do?"

The Griever's Holiday Bill of Rights

Tonight I attended a very helpful and meaningful program at Alive Hospice about "Grief and the Holidays." During the program, grief counselor John Baker shared "The Griever's Holiday Bill of Rights":

1. You have the right to say "TIME OUT!" any time you need to.

2. You have a right to TELL IT LIKE IT IS.

3. You have a right to SOME "BAH HUMBUG" DAYS.

4. You have a right to DO THINGS DIFFERENTLY.

5. You have a right to BE WHERE YOU WANT TO BE.

6. You have a right to SOME FUN!

7. You have a right to CHANGE DIRECTION IN MID-STREAM.

8. You have a right to DO THINGS AT DIFFERENT TIMES.

9. You have a right to REST, PEACE, and SOLITUDE.

10. You have the right to DO IT ALL DIFFERENTLY AGAIN NEXT YEAR.