Looking Forward to Advent by Wil Triggs

When Lorraine was a girl, once upon a time not so very many years ago, when she was in church and the congregation sang “Visions of rapture now burst on my sight,” (from the hymn “Blessed Assurance”) she would sing instead, “Visions of sugar plums dance in my head.” 

I think of this, probably because of the sugar plum tie to the holidays, especially during Advent. Kind of a strange connection, I know, but when it came to mind this year, I asked a few other people if they recall other such modifications of original texts of the Bible or hymns.

Here are a few that people shared with me. 

One family calls the angel who announced Jesus' birth  to the shepherds “Mark” because their four-year-old insists everyone sings. “Mark the herald angel sings.”

“We bring you gifts of gold, Frankenstein and myrrh.”

“Let the God of salivation be salted!”

“For Paul has sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”

“Let the little children come to me, and forgive them not.”

“Him exalting, self a-basting...” (kind of a Thanksgiving turkey take on things!)

“Great is my faithfulness.”

We laugh at these because they’re funny. We know what children mean when they get it wrong. Children don’t know that what they’re saying isn’t right. They’re saying what they think everyone else is saying. (Well, I have a feeling Lorraine realized somewhere along the way that the sugar plum dance was just more fun to sing than whatever a rapture vision meant.) But for the most part, kids are saying what they think is right.

They’re not the only ones.

Even we adults don’t always get it right.

But do we realize it or do we, like children, believe that what we’re saying or thinking in every way is exactly just so, so right.

I’ll bet everyone loves love. Pastor Moody just preached about it in Hebrews. Philadelphia—love for the family. Philioxenia—love for the stranger. Standing with the persecuted. How we talk about marriage and how we should honor and elevate it.

Love may be the thing all of humanity, angry as we all seem these days, chases. Maybe we call it community or relationship or truth or peace; it is the thing we humans search for with relentless longing. In our searching, though, we may find that we stray from love itself. If not the word, well, the reality behind the word.  We say the word, but sometimes it comes out wrong: leave instead of love or laugh instead of love or loathe instead of love. But we think we’re saying love.

We so easily wander, like a lamb, head down, sniffing something it smells and following that away from the flock, unaware that it is moving itself away from the rest of the sheep and the shepherd.

We can become so committed to the part we get wrong and wander unaware and drift away from the flock and the shepherd, self-a-basting ourselves in commitment to forgive them not and give the gift of Frankenstein as we sing “great is my faithfulness.” We say or think or do the wrong thing like children confusing salivation with salvation.

We don’t always put away childish ways even when we think we have.

Yet Jesus is always ready to leave the flock to rescue the lamb who has gone astray. He bears us on his shoulders and carries us back. He believes not in us, but in God, where the source of true hope and endurance comes, the One who helps us know the real love that is so opposite from what we humanly say or do when we wander off on our own.

This week we light the messenger candle. The message that a child had been born was broadcast in full angelic splendor to outcast shepherds watching their flocks. One of them might be named Mark, but probably not. Nevertheless, the message was not to fear, but instead, go. Go and see the baby sleeping where the animals eat, go and see the shepherd of love. Just go.

Bearing, believing, hoping, enduring. Jesus our rescuing good shepherd lives them out.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

This description Paul wrote to the Corinthians . . .  what had he heard about the church in Corinth to prompt this? Which number was higher:  the number of temples to idols like Aphrodite or the number of factious divisions in the church of Corinth? Maybe these believers were too much like us.

Love, like its king, never ends. It doesn’t give up. Maybe when we speak with one another and with those outside the faith we need to take a dose of humility to recognize that we will be surprised someday when we see more clearly all that we got wrong along the way.  There have been times that I have backed away from talking about Jesus with someone out of fear of doing it wrong. But I’ve decided to just go for it. Somehow God has decided to use people like us instead of angels to be the messengers to the people around us.

We don’t know like God knows, but we do know the God who knows all things. And somehow Jesus uses us to offer his love.

Advent isn’t just looking back. It’s also looking forward to when all things become clear. And living and walking in love until that day. By the Spirit and the Word and with each other, we don’t have to wait even as we wait.

When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

Love Who? by Wil Triggs

By now, you have surely heard about the kidnapped missionaries in Haiti.

As I prepared this week’s prayer guide for the persecuted church, I found reports about them in both the secular and the Christian press. I don’t know why I didn’t click on all the articles I saw. I figured they would be critical of the missionaries.

But I was curious to see what the sending missions agency had to say about the situation. I don’t know the theology of this board, so I’m not endorsing them or aligning myself or College Church with them, but I do think the situation is worthy of our prayer support regardless, so I went searching.

I found a webpage on the Christian Aid Ministries website with the latest update.

They are asking prayer for the following:

• “Pray for the hostages—for their release, that they could endure faithfully, and that they would display Christlike love. Jesus, when nailed to the cross, said, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.

• Pray for the kidnappers—that they would experience the love of Jesus and turn to Him. We see that as their ultimate need.

• Pray for government leaders and authorities—as they relate to the case and work toward the release of the hostages. We appreciate the ongoing work and assistance of those knowledgeable and experienced in dealing with kidnapping cases."

These prayer requests demonstrate remarkable balance. They ask for prayer, not just for the hostage missionaries, but for the salvation of the kidnappers. And the third request, related to the human authorities in the situation seems refreshingly free of political slant, though one can never be sure about that kind of thing.

It’s surprising how much attention the story is getting in the press, and I couldn’t resist searching more and delved into secular news.

The New York Times wrote an article on a 24-hour prayer chain and quoted a mother of six who is praying at 2:45 a.m.: “We do believe God is in control,” she said. “When Daniel was put in the lions’ den, there was nothing logical about him coming out alive.”

And then I found this quote from a report on both NPR and Christianity Today:

“Weston Showalter, spokesman for the religious group, said that the families of those who'd been kidnapped are from Amish, Mennonite and other conservative Anabaptist communities in Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, Tennessee, Pennsylvania, Oregon and Ontario, Canada. He read a letter from the families, who weren't identified by name, in which they said, ‘God has given our loved ones the unique opportunity to live out our Lord's command to love your enemies.’"

Of course, we should be praying for these people. This email is an invitation for us to pray about their perseverance in situation and for their release, but I think it is also a challenge for us to remember, even as we pray for the kidnappers, to pray for our enemies as well, whoever they might be and in whatever sphere of life the word “enemy” might take us.

If kidnapped folks can pray for the salvation of those who have kidnapped them, surely, we can do the same toward our enemies.

43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. 46 For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? 47 And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? 48 You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. (Matthew 5:43-48)

As much as we might want to pray down fire and brimstone, Jesus calls us to do something counter-cultural; to love and pray for our enemies, not just for people we like or agree with, which is counter to our humanness. Maybe that was the point Jesus was making. Remember that when we were enemies of God, he went to the cross for us. So "enemies" doesn't have to be forever.

Is there anyone in your life who is, at some level, your enemy? Are you especially angered by a certain opponent of the faith? None of us are kidnapped, but let's take the response of those kidnapped to consider how we respond to enemies. Take the time to consider this.

The good news is that God in Christ Jesus turns enemies into friends—sons and daughters of the God that they/we once rejected. So even as we pray for the freedom of these missionaries, may we also pray for the people we call enemies, that God would work in them and set them free from sin and reconcile them to both him and us.

You can read ongoing updates from the missionary board here if you’re interested: https://christianaidministries.org/updates/haiti-staff-abduction/

Not-So Original Sin by Lorraine Triggs

What better way to teach Kindergartners about the Fall than with a bag of Starbursts and a bag of Lindt chocolate truffles? We corralled our teachers and Dan Burden to help execute our lesson plan. Dan would bring in the candy and explain that it was only for the teachers. He would put the Starbursts on one side of the room, and the chocolate on the other, emphasizing only for the teachers and only the Starbursts. The teachers could eat any of the Starbucks, but none of the chocolates.

One-by-one, the teachers would come up, fuss over the Starbursts, and reject them in favor of the chocolate. But shouldn’t one of us do what Dan said and not take the chocolate, a teacher asked. Well, no, not really. We all are sinners. The main verse we were studying was Romans 3:23 “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

I know you know where this is headed. I went first and checked out the Starbursts, but kept looking over at the chocolate. I really love chocolate I told the kids and walked across the room. I was about to open the bag—and we didn’t see this coming—Riley jumped up from her chair and shouted, “No, Mrs. Triggs, no. Don’t take the chocolate.” Sadly, the other teachers, one by one, took their turn, each of us falling to the lure of the forbidden truffle as other children joined Riley in shouting "No, don't eat it."

Riley should have been in the garden with Eve.

Nowadays, even in this post-Christian world, there is nothing original about sin. We all do it, and if we look closely enough, our response to sin resembles our first parents’ response—we doubt God’s Word and goodness, we blame, we deny, we twist things ever so slightly to justify and make ourselves look better than we are. We aren’t even original thinkers in our excuse-making. We will live and not die. We will know more fully.

English poet John Donne wrote these lines in his Holy Sonnet I
But our old subtle foe so tempteth me,
That not one hour I can myself sustain;

An hour? Don’t I wish. There are some days I can’t even sustain myself on the 10-minute drive to work without complaining about road construction and school buses. That old subtle foe of ours sneaks in a worry here and there, a doubt or two of God’s goodness in a difficult situation and a large dose of self-pity because life isn’t going my way.

The final lines of Donne’s sonnet bring hope to my lack of sustainability:
Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art,
And thou like adamant draw mine iron heart.

In his book The Soul in Paraphrase – A Treasury of Classic Devotional Poem, Leland Ryken comments on this first sonnet, defining the word adamant as "magnetic lodestone," a rare magnetic mineral that occurs in nature. The magnetism is permanent and cannot be undone.

When God reaches out to his beloved through his nail-scarred resurrected hands, his bride clings to him like metal to a magnet. They are together. The serpent’s head is crushed.

Nothing can pry us away. There’s nothing subtle about God’s amazing grace that draws cold iron hearts to his loving heart, rescues us from our not so original sins and sustains us as we walk with him.

By the way, Riley’s favorite hymn is “Holy, Holy, Holy,” I think that girl is on to something.

Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to thee.
Holy, holy, holy! Merciful and mighty,
God in three persons, blessed Trinity!

Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore thee,
casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
cherubim and seraphim falling down before thee,
which wert, and art, and evermore shalt be.

Holy, holy, holy! Though the darkness hide thee,
though the eye of sinful man thy glory may not see,
only thou art holy; there is none beside thee,
perfect in power, in love and purity.

Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
All thy works shall praise thy name, in earth and sky and sea.
Holy, holy, holy! Merciful and mighty,
God in three persons, blessed Trinity.

Grief: A Par

Gracious Father, many of us have felt some measure of grief in our lives. No matter its source or its duration, grief is not a welcome visitor to anyone.

That was surely the case, Father, for young Joseph in the Old Testament. The apple of his father’s eye, Joseph had no idea that he would be betrayed by his brothers, enslaved and imprisoned, and then separated from his family and country for what seemed like forever.

Thank you, Father, for Joseph’s story in the Bible. I weep whenever I read it. At first, my tears flow from deep sadness that Joseph endured so much anguish and loss. But when the story takes a turn—when Joseph rises to success and is reunited with his grieving father who thought his son had been dead for all those years—my tears spring from pure joy!

O God, in Joseph’s grief we feel our own grief. May we see that you are with us in our suffering too. May we understand that even when others intend harm, you intend good and can overrule evil to accomplish your perfect plans. With your help, Father, we can each become fruitful in the land of our grief.

Heart Health by Lorraine Triggs

The first ever heart transplant was on December 3, 1967. My father died from heart failure on July 9, 1967—six months too early for a new heart.

My father, however, would have been the first to say that he already had a new heart.

While my dad was in hospital recovering from a heart attack, my sisters and I turned our bedroom into a card factory that would have rivaled Hallmark. With an endless supply of construction paper, glue, tape and scissors, we created get-well cards for our dad. We cut out paper hearts, tore them in half, taped them back together with the cheery greeting, “Hope you’re on the mend.”

We made primitive versions of pop-up cards, gluing paper hearts to the end of “springs” we folded from the construction paper. “Spring back to health.” We drew pictures of the family dinner table with a big red arrow pointing to an empty chair: “Someone’s missing.” If we could have made a new heart for him, we would have from our craft supplies.

Last Wednesday, in my Women’s Bible Study small group, the discussion turned to hearts when we read Genesis 6:5, “The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.” There isn't a lot of wiggle room in that verse about humankind's heart condition.

One of the women commented that a co-worker has a mug with the saying “Follow your heart” on it, and she remarked to her co-worker that she would never follow her heart. She explained that the Bible describes the heart at deceitful and desperately sick. (Jeremiah 17:9)

We joked about starting a home business designing mugs and t-shirts that proclaim, “Don’t follow your heart.”

There is good news for desperately sick and wayward hearts—Jesus came to cure the sick and call back the wayward. Think of it as a heart transplant, a heart transformation, a new heart that my father experienced long before his physical one gave out.

Yet even that new heart can experience heart failure, and sin. I can overthink the slightest hurt, and it simmers in my heart, threatening to boil over. My complaint list has more entries than a thanksgiving journal (which I have started and dropped more times than I can remember). Anxiety sometimes rules both day and night.

And when Jesus hears this? He says to me, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” (Mark 2:17)

Jesus wasn’t fooled by the self-righteous then, and he isn’t fooled by the self-righteous now. He knows my heart better than I do and beckons me not to look inward at myself, but outward to the wonder of the new only he gives. He calls me back to his grace in our lives. He says no, don’t follow your heart. I'm giving you a new one. As his chosen one, holy and beloved put on the new compassionate heart— kind, humble, meek, patient. A heart that forgives and holds up others. A thankful heart ruled by the peace of God.

When some sinners and the self-righteous see that kind of heart, they won't look up to me, but see and follow the One who gives out new hearts in exchange for old ones.