Slight Delays

Hello, all. I know we're all coming into the holiday home stretch. I'm actually on the road trying to wrap up some "real work" before year's end. That's slowing down my ability to post as regularly as I'd like. But I hope to have some time this evening to catch up. Please bear with me! Thanks.

A Zealous God

He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on forever. The zeal of the LORD Almighty will accomplish this.

                        Isaiah 9.7

Coup d’Etat

An interesting aspect of Isaiah’s Messianic prophecies is how they approach “government.” In Isaiah 9.6, we hear “the government will be on his shoulders,” and verse 7 begins with: “Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end.” Thinking of this during an Advent that coincides with America’s quadrennial “lame duck” period is especially compelling. Usually, the transition goes uneventfully, the former government lacking a mandate to implement new policies and the incoming one lacking authority to act. But hard times have generated intense interest in the President-elect’s plans and for the first time in memory, the US has two Presidents.

Isaiah describes the transition from earthly rule to Christ’s reign as more abrupt and final. What is will be no longer—not that there’s much to begin with. In verse 10, Israel’s enemies see “the bricks have fallen down… the fig trees have been felled.” When Christ takes the throne, Isaiah says, He will establish and uphold His kingdom with justice and righteousness. Americans look at shambles piled high by eight years of incompetence and greed, hoping against hope the new President can sort things out. Isaiah tells Israel Christ isn’t coming to clean up their mess; He’s clearing house—kicking everything to the curb—to begin all over again. It’s not new leadership, but a coup d’etat driven by a zealous God.

Constant Surprises

We model our relationship with God on those with one another. Human relationships, though, thrive on anticipating needs and responses. They place high value on stability, often at the expense of personal growth. Once we reach equilibrium, we resist rocking the boat. Yet avoiding change also destroys relationships, as one outgrows the other and moves on. The shift from stability to stasis, from expectation to assumption is so subtle it stuns the abandoned partner to hear the other feels bored or boxed in.

While seeking predictability adds risk in human affairs, it dooms our relationship with God. As Creativity Incarnate, nothing delights Him more than change. The Bible inevitably finds Him approaching age-old problems from innovative angles. Life with God is full of constant surprises and its stability rests in expecting the unexpected, predicting the unpredictable. That’s the crux of Isaiah’s message to us. When Christ comes, He overthrows the pride and prejudices governing our lives to set new standards for justice and righteousness. 2 Corinthians 5.17 says we’re new creatures—“the old has gone, the new has come!”

Perception Is Everything

 “See, I am doing a new thing!” God exclaims in Isaiah 43.19. “Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” Perception, not predictability, is everything in terms of nurturing a stable experience with God. Recognition of what’s happening now prepares us for what’s ahead. If we concentrate on predicting His next steps—or, worse yet, His final say—we endanger the relationship. We expose our arrogance in presuming to speak for God. We expose our ignorance in thinking God will ever allow us to box Him in. And we expose ourselves to future grief by not mastering lessons He presently teaches us. Prediction implies controlling interests we clearly don’t have. Government rests on His shoulders. He’ll accomplish all He wants done and He’ll do it with zeal. Meanwhile, new things spring up all around us, all the time. They’re not to be missed.

Instead of predicting what God will do, we recognize what He's doing now.

(Tomorrow: Incomprehensible)

Stuck with Straw

She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

                        Luke 2.7

Unfit to Be Seen

Joseph and Mary have worked through their issues concerning her pregnancy. Mary’s family—especially her cousins, Elizabeth and Zechariah—fully support her. Joseph’s family is on-board, too, just as the angel promised. The couple has yet to marry, perhaps to offset potential confusion about the Christ Child’s paternity. Like all expectant parents, they mark the days remaining before Mary gives birth. Then Caesar decides to tally his empire and see who comes from where. Joseph’s trip to his hometown of Bethlehem falls exactly when the Baby’s due. He can’t leave Mary in Nazareth. Besides, as his wife-to-be, she legally must register with him. The couple sets out on its four-day journey.

The word “bedlam” derives from “Bethlehem” to evoke the chaotic overcrowding Mary and Joseph found on arrival. We envision bedlam because the Bible says they couldn’t get a hotel room. But let’s think this through. Why was housing a problem if Joseph had local relatives to put them up? Let’s run another scenario. They get to Bethlehem and, first thing, go to the census bureau. The registrar lists them as married, but Joseph corrects him, being honest and less wary of their circumstances after their families’ acceptance. The couple becomes the talk of the town. As they proceed to the home where Joseph assumes they’ll stay, they draw disapproving stares. His cousin explains he’ll be shamed if he hosts an unwed pregnant couple. Joseph tries a nearby inn, whose owner is more direct. They’re unfit to be seen in his fine establishment. Joseph pleads for Mary’s sake while smug guests eavesdrop. The innkeeper whispers, “There’s a barn out back where you can sleep provided no one knows you’re there.”

No Room

The Christ we carry inside us deserves the finest treatment, yet prejudice and self-righteousness often leave us stuck with straw. People we expect to welcome us as always turn us away. They tactfully appeal to our understanding that befriending us will cost them friends and respect. Others are less gracious. It’s less about them being seen with us as our being seen with them. We’re not worthy of their company. Then there are those who haven’t the heart to reject us outright or the nerve to embrace us openly. They’ll let us hang around, as long we stay out of sight. Every GLBT person has likely experienced all of these reactions, as well as numerous other variations. Lest we get caught up in misreading the Nativity as a metaphor for homophobia, however, we should view it as a parable for all believers. Sincere followers of Jesus quickly learn people and places once open to them quickly run out of room. If we think faith increases popularity and never offends, revisiting Bethlehem snaps us back to reality. And while it’s typical around this time of year to disdain the Holy Family’s inhospitable treatment, it’s also good to recall Jesus spent much of His life looking for somewhere to sleep. He informed one aspiring disciple that being shoved aside came with following Him: “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” (Matthew 8.20)

Seeing Stars

Talk like that didn’t help recruitment, but it was honest. Lousy accommodations and transient friendships were a way of life for Jesus, from His manger crib to His borrowed tomb. Though He deserved better, He didn’t resent doing with less, knowing He’d be vindicated in the end. Whether packed houses or patent hostility is why Jesus was born in a stable, you’ve got to love how the story ends. God responds to Joseph and Mary being tossed around by tossing a star through space to transform their dank, dismal surroundings into a warm, incandescent nursery. And if, just if, social stigmatization accounts for scuttling them out of sight, God ensures their significance to Him—and the Gift they brought into the world—won’t be ignored.

At some time or other, we all end up in Bedlam, surrounded by chaos and crowds incapable of overcoming their own fears and hatred to believe God’s given us gifts for their benefit. Deserving better doesn’t excuse resentment at doing with less. As Proverbs 18.16 tells us, “A gift opens the way for the giver and ushers him into the presence of the great.” When we’re stuck with straw, instead of looking at how we’ve been mistreated, let's start seeing stars.

 

Some think we're unfit to be seen and try to hide us from view, but God's light will shine on us in the end.

(Tomorrow: A Zealous God)

Before Birth

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.

                        Jeremiah 1.5

A Natural Fact

Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex—Woody Allen's bawdy satire of an early 70’s “how-to” bestseller—ends by splendidly sending up human reproductivity from the inside out. The bespectacled Allen joins other spermatozoa on a jump seat, waiting to leap into the future, as it were. Being Woody, he’s racked with anxiety as he looks at the other stronger swimmers and rules out completing his mission. It’s puerile and silly, but were I cursed with teaching sex ed, I’d run the clip on the first day, open the floor for any questions, and end by announcing every class thereafter will be spent in study hall. No biology text ever explained reproduction more effectively.

Because conception is a natural fact, we classify it under “science,” which literally means “knowledge.” Knowing how, though, sheds no light on understanding why. Science sidesteps this by retrofitting Darwin’s theory to the start of life. There’s nothing wrong with that—as long as we allow that our Creator has chosen to employ a random system for predefined reasons. Think of it this way. Science regards conception as the stepping off point of natural selection, the launch of traits and characteristics that affect survival. Faith sees it as the culmination of divine election, the result of what God decides to do.

Infinitely Aware

Each of us is a fact before becoming a fetus. “I knew you before you were conceived,” God told Jeremiah. “I endowed you with singular distinction before you entered the world.” We could take this to mean that Jeremiah was unique were it not for how often the Bible confirms it in other cases, most notably with Jesus. This is a regular topic here, typically discussed in context with confidence that God creates us—and therefore accepts us—as we are for His own reasons and purpose. But there’s another side not to be overlooked or undervalued.

How long and how well God knows us defy comparison with anyone, including us, because He supersedes time and intelligence. He’s infinitely—rather than intimately—aware of us in detail the likes of which we can’t imagine. It’s there that He loves and cares for us. Jesus explained this in astonishing terms for His time: “Even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.” (Matthew 10.30) On this side of nuclear medicine and the Human Genome Project, He would say, “Even your atomic sub-matter is accounted for.”

Micro/Cosmic

It’s illuminating to note that Jesus’s “hair-count” statement arises in a discussion about social and religious bigots who “will hand you over to the local councils and flog you in their synagogues” (v17). Don’t fear the wrath of those who kill the body but can’t kill the soul, He teaches in verse 28. Instead, be concerned about pleasing the One Who can destroy body and soul. Then, to avoid provoking the very response He warns against, He notes God misses nothing and nothing happens without His consent. Even sparrows, Jesus says, the cheapest sacrifices on the market, don’t escape His purview. Nor does one hair on your head. “So don’t be afraid; you’re worth more than many sparrows” (v31).

Our Maker’s unsurpassed knowledge—His eternal, bottomless catalogue of our individual biological and biographical data—precludes any notion He doesn’t understand us, can’t relate to us, or won’t attend to our needs, even those we’re taught to consider illegitimate and inappropriate to lay before Him. His microcosmic interest in us obtains cosmic significance that dwarfs any challenge we confront. Before we were conceived, He knew us. Before we were born, He set us apart. We’re different by design. Those who view us otherwise—as accidents of nature or products of nurture—belittle our Creator. Their darkness is not to be feared in light of God’s brilliant creativity and care.

A human genome sequence: breakthrough knowledge for us doesn't remotely scratch the surface of God's infinite awareness of how and why we're made.

(Tomorrow: Stuck with Straw)

Serve Him Without Fear

He has raised up a horn of salvation for us… to rescue us from the hand of our enemies and to enable us to serve him without fear.

                        Luke 1.69, 74

Old Enough to Know Better

In a feat of literary bravado, Luke kicks off his Gospel with parallel plots: the conceptions of Jesus and John the Baptist. It’s conceivable he brings John into the picture to contrast Zechariah, his father, with Mary. Luke finds Zechariah, a priest getting on in years, alone in the temple. An angel tells him his wife, Elizabeth, is pregnant with a boy, whom he’s to name John. Zechariah asks, “How can I be sure of this? I’m old and my wife’s not much younger.” The angel ignores him and essentially says if he’s that old, he’s old enough to know better than to doubt God’s messenger. Before the priest can utter a word, the angel strikes him dumb until his boy is born. Six months later, while Zechariah remains speechless, the same angel visits Mary. She takes the angel at his word. “I am the Lord’s servant,” she says. “May it be to me as you have said.”

Time to Think

For nine months, Zechariah has time to think about how he messed up. But did he mess up? Before embracing her news, Mary asks a very similar question: “How will this be, since I am a virgin?” Her response is no less mystified than Zechariah’s—or so it appears. Side-by-side, however, they’re radically different. Zechariah asks to be sure. Mary asks to understand. He’s uncertain of his possibilities. Her question rings with faith—how will this be, not how can it be. That’s the big difference Luke wants us to see between the old priest and the young girl. God’s promises aren’t for the hesitant and fearful. They don’t resonate with people who fall back on experience and precedent. But when we take His Word at face value and try to grasp where we fit into His plan, we find (as the angel tells Mary) “nothing is impossible with God.”

Where Doubt Leads

Doubt takes us one of two places: defeat or belief. Either we stick with our questions or we reach a place where we toss them aside. Zechariah chooses the latter. When John is born, family and friends rush to see the new baby, wanting to know what Elizabeth and Zechariah chose for his name. Everyone assumes he’ll be named for his father. When they hear his name is “John,” they draw back. “Nobody in your family has that name,” they say. Zechariah motions for a pad to write, “His name is John.” He’s sure this time. His written confession loosens his tongue and, having been trapped with his thoughts for so long, he starts to sing. He rhapsodizes about the imminent birth of Jesus, and his song remains thrilling to this day—especially coming from a fearful old man.

“God has raised up a horn,” Zechariah sings, referring to a symbol of strength, “so that people and circumstances that once inhibited our worship are powerless against us.” There’s no reason to doubt any more. There’s nothing and no one to be afraid of. God has rescued us from our enemies and enabled us to serve Him without fear. When experience and logic lead us to doubt, we can let it carry us away. Or, like Zechariah, if we take time to think about what our doubt signifies, it can lead us to faith. Others' opinions and beliefs about anyone’s right to follow Jesus are not our concern. Opposition from our family, church, and community isn’t our battle. Jesus is our strength. He has come to our rescue. He has enabled us to serve Him without fear.

Zechariah and the angel.

(Tomorrow: Before Birth)

Postscript: The Christmas Album

Well, actually, it’s a mix—and it’s really good! A number of you pitched in your holiday favorites to compile a “Straight-Friendly Christmas Album” as a gift we all can share during this season. In my appeal, I suggested it would also give us a musical snapshot of the fine, eclectic group of people who drop by. Well, fine and eclectic it is. Even the two different versions of two songs were too good to choose between. So I put all of them in. I know you’ll enjoy it—not just for what’s on it, but how beautifully it comes together! Here’s the list of songs and contributors:

1. O Come, O Come Emmanuel – Joan Baez (FranIAm)
2. Rejoice – Richard Smallwood & Vision (Tim)
3. Baby, It’s Cold Outside – James Taylor & Natalie Cole (Annette)
4. O Come All Ye Faithful – Nat “King” Cole (Cuboid Master)
5. Santa Baby – Eartha Kitt (Annette)
6. Joy to the World – Mariah Carey (johnmichael)
7. Wildwood Carol – Holly Cole (Tim)
8. Jesus, Oh What a Wonderful Child – Marva Wright (Tim)
9. Jingle Bells – The Mexicali Brass (Cuboid Master)
10. Breath of Heaven – Donna Summer (FranIAm)
11. Baby, It’s Cold Outside – Alan Cumming & Liza Minnelli (FranIAm)
12. O Holy Night – Josh Groban (FranIAm)
13. Grown-Up Christmas – Amy Grant (johnmichael)
14. Greensleeves – Vince Guaraldi Trio (Annette)
15. Joy to the World – Whitney Houston (Tim)
16. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas – James Taylor (Border Explorer)

You can download it here. 

Straight-Friendly Christmas Album 2008

(File size: 61 Kb. Total run-time is just over an hour.)

Joy to the world, everyone!

Good Will to Men

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

                        Luke 2.14 (KJV)

When Jesus Comes

The NIV translates the song the angels sang to the shepherds like this: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.” Its drive for accuracy is admirable yet it totally strips the happiest melody ever sung of all its music. And I detect an overly stern grammarian in the cockeyed phrase “on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.” That may convert Luke’s text word for word. But I can’t imagine it captures what he wanted us to hear the angels sing. It puts a lid on what the King James Version’s less fastidious translation conveys as an uncontained eruption of joy for all. Peace for all. Good will for all.

Isaiah 9.6 prophesies when Jesus comes, “the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” In short, a New Order goes into effect. The old standards that doled out God’s love and favor as rewards for good behavior are replaced by a lavish peace and good will for humankind. When the Prince of Peace reigns, good will to men is His modus operandi. This Monarch is not above the law—He is the law. As His loyal subjects, we are people of peace who obey His commandment to convey His good will through love for others.

Two Halves of a Whole

Peace and good will are two halves of a whole. Lose one and the other disappears. This is so obvious we should be baffled by how easily we forget it. When conflict supplants peace, everything goes up for grabs and all that matters is getting more than the other guy—territory, money, respect, status, and so on. When self-interest overwhelms good will, nothing is sacred—freedom, equality, tolerance, etc. Good will calls for understanding and understanding creates peace. Peace places the comfort of all over the desires of one or a few, which produces good will. Can it be any simpler? No.

Managing Conflict

Once Adam and Eve bit into the knowledge of good and evil, they developed an insatiable appetite to judge right from wrong for themselves. Regrettably, their craving has passed from generation to generation. Not one conflict, from the most terrible war to the most trivial spat, starts for any reason other than one person’s compulsion to prove another wrong. On the other side of the peace/good will equation, no conflict ends until one side wakes up and realizes the value of denying itself for everyone’s benefit. We describe such acts of self-sacrifice as “the Christian thing to do.” The description couldn’t be more apt, as the first proclamation on Jesus’s arrival was peace on earth, good will to men.

Conflict resolution experts and peace negotiators can invent all the highfalutin’ jargon they think we need to appreciate what they do. But, in the end, it still comes down to convincing one side to love its neighbor as itself. Anyone can do it and of all people, as Jesus’s followers, we’ve got no excuse for not managing conflict in our lives. If we’re entangled in tumultuous relationships and situations, we restore peace by offering good will. And we protect peace we enjoy by maintaining good will to the men and women with whom we share it. It’s so basic, if we think it’s easier said than done, we need to think again.

We may think that conflict management is as complicated as all this, but it isn't.

(Tomorrow: Serve Him Without Fear)

Keeping Watch

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks by night.

                        Luke 2.8 

In the Fields

I’ve said this so often I hesitate repeating it. But it’s so vital to us all, straight or gay, old or young, I’m compelled to keep stressing it. God created every one of us as we are and put us where we are for a purpose—for His purpose. We don’t arrive with detailed job descriptions or designated areas of responsibility. God is the greatest on-the-job-training advocate there ever was. He matches talents He’s given us with the position He puts us in. Why we’re as we are or where we are may seem random and inconsequential. But when the day comes for us to rise to the occasion as only we can, we get what He intended all along.

Look at the shepherds. Overall, shepherding is lousy. It’s shift work, all day or all night, day in, day out, far removed from family and friends, the latest happenings, and whatnot. It’s just you, co-workers as socially and intellectually deprived as you, and dozens of sheep that, darling though they are, make for dull company. Your only thrills come from predators and strays. Monotony is maddening out in the fields. Then the night sky lights up. An angel announces what generations have longed to hear, saying you’ll be the first people on the planet to worship the Christ. You’re catapulted to your feet by a stunning musical finale. You head into town, not looking back once at the sheep you’re leaving behind, and suddenly it hits you. I’ve been stuck out here all this time for a reason—for this reason.

Why Shepherds?

Once Jesus was born, the next order of business was third-party confirmation of His identity. Selecting shepherds to testify to His arrival was beyond brilliant. While everyone else slept, they were awake and alert, keeping watch; their account couldn’t be dismissed as a dream or drunken hallucination. Isolation from society’s political and religious wrangling exempted them from ulterior motives, discounting suspicions they hatched their story to raise their profile, because they were nobodies. Being completely out of touch, no way could they know Joseph came into Bethlehem with a pregnant wife, where they settled for the night, the birth that took place, or what the parents were told prior to that. The decision to abandon their flocks to greet the Christ Child was enough to make their story credible. They risked all they had to gain what they never imagined they’d live to see. Their testimony to God’s divine plan was impeccable.

Glory

Unless we’ve decided to plan our own lives and position ourselves accordingly, where we are is the best place to be. Whether or not we gather why, our responsibility is to stay alert, regardless how monotonous things get, because the time is coming when our purpose will be clear. In his prophecies of the Christ, Isaiah proclaimed, “The glory of the LORD will be revealed, and all mankind together will see it.” (Isaiah 40.5) That’s exactly what happened with the shepherds: “The glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.” (Matthew 2.9) The angel told them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people.” (v10)

Our position and place in life may seem like the worst of all possible worlds. We may feel far removed from everything and everyone, stuck in lousy jobs, stranded with small-minded people or sheepish followers. But three different times, the Bible connects suffering to glory. 1 Peter 4.13 says, “But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed.” When God’s glory is revealed, it may be so far over the top it scares us. But we have nothing to fear. It will be good news, great joy for everyone. We’ll have an amazing story to tell. Until then, our job is keeping watch over responsibilities we’ve been given in places we’ve been sent.

We keep watch over responsibilities we've been given where we've been placed. The moment God's purpose is revealed, His glory is revealed.

(Tomorrow: Good Will to Men)