My journal entry for February 6, 2022 reads in part: “It’s hard to imagine life without Sunday worship with our family at Incarnation—and all too easy to imagine dreariness and loneliness in its absence.” It seemed so certain a prediction the year before we moved to Kazakhstan—and yet! Sunday services here, both with our Kazakh church and the English service we do in our home using your order of service, have been life-giving, just as they were (and are! And will be!) for us at Incarnation.
In his book The Two Towers Tolkien describes waybread made by elves and given to the party of hobbits and others as they continued on their way to destroy the evil Ring of Power. Their waybread, the elves explained, would sustain them more and more fully as their other food supplies ran low and they were required to rely on the waybread more fully. That picture has come to mind often as I join with my family and the few others the Lord has brought to our English services. Especially in that first winter when we had been stripped of so much and could not yet see how the Lord would renew any of it, I anticipated and yearned for those times of Sabbath worship “as in a dry and weary land, where there is no water” (Psalm 63:1). And the water our Father provided us within those services—even himself!—was truly life-giving: water turned into celebratory wine, wine made for us into the life-giving blood of our Savior.
In this season of Epiphany, we remember how Jesus grew “in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man” (Luke 2:52). What would it look like for us to grow as Jesus did, to be so fully dependent on the Father that we are able to receive fully, unmixed with any food of our own making, the nourishment He offers? In her book Sacred Seasons Danielle Hitchen urges: “If we want to be conformed to the image of Christ, then we must spend time doing the things that Jesus did: He practiced prayer, solitude, and silence, routinely desiring time away to be with his Father. He prayed with and for others. He fasted (forty days in the wilderness). He served others. He went regularly to the temple and synagogue for communal worship and to learn the Scriptures (Luke 2:41-52). He kept sacred time, remembering the Sabbath as well as the Jewish calendar of feasts. These are the spiritual disciplines. If you want to be like Jesus, do these things. These habits formed the rich inner life of Christ that shaped his visibly abundant outer life.”
As we consider our resolutions for this coming year, we do well to consider how our Lord lived his life. Resolving to attend Sunday worship and to prayerfully attend to the Scriptures might seem too little, as unassuming as the little wafers of the elves’ waybread. But in so doing, we will be following the example of our Lord Jesus, as well as our brothers and sisters in the faith whose story we heard read from Nehemiah 8:1-12 this past Sunday. As they listened to Ezra and the other priests and Levites read and explain the Scriptures, those men and women (and children!) worshipped and wept—and then feasted with joy as they were commanded to. There will be times for all of us when that command, “do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10) will seem harsh and out of reach. And yet! “This God—his way is perfect; the word of the LORD proves true; he is a shield for all those who take refuge in him” (2 Samuel 22:31).
In her explanation of Epiphany, Hitchins says: “As image bearers of God who take up Christ’s specific call to be the light of the world (Matthew 5:14-16), we are transformed into walking epiphanies, mini-manifestations of God shining forth in the dark world.” What a beautiful vision! Would you shine more brightly, reflect more faithfully the light of your Savior? Take these children’s songs to heart: “[Go to church!], read your Bible, and pray every day, and you will grow,” for, “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”
Give us grace, O Lord, to answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation, that we and the whole world may perceive the glory of his marvelous works; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Hannah
Better Wine
The master of the feast called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and when people have drunk freely, then the poor wine. But you have kept the good wine until now.” This, the first of his signs, Jesus did at Cana in Galilee, and manifested his glory. (John 2:9b-11a)
If you read the book of Hebrews, you will hear (many times!) that what God has done in Jesus is better than what he did in the previous ages. The later wine is better than the prior wine, in other words. Jesus’ priesthood is better than that of Aaron, his role as a son is better than Moses’ role as a servant, the sacrifice he offers is better than the old sacrifices, the altar he offers us to eat from is better than the altar in the temple—the list of “better wine” in Hebrews is long. God’s later work is better than his former work, not because the former work was inadequate, but because he keeps outdoing himself with a better perfection.
We take for granted that Jesus’ sacrifice is better than the sacrifices of the old covenant. But how often do we forget that there is still better wine to come? How often do we live as if the wine we have received so far is as good as it gets? How often do we treat what God has done in our lives so far as the end of the story? There is a later work that God will do that will completely surpass what he has done so far—there is better wine still to come!
The Bible ends (before the closing valediction) with the cry, “Come, Lord Jesus!” I have oftentimes thought of this (and prayed it) as a cry of desperation. But what if we heard it as what it is—not a cry of desperation because of the brokenness of the world, but instead the ecstatic cry of the bride awaiting her groom? What if we said it with joyful longing for the better wine to come? In other words, what if our cry, “Come, Lord Jesus,” were driven by eager hope, not frustration and sadness?
There is better wine to come. When the bride is united to the bridegroom, we will see the glory that God is still waiting to reveal in Jesus Christ, glory that is full of grace and truth.
Steven+
What does it mean to think like a Christian about the government?
On Sunday, January 19, Adult Sunday School restarts. We are going to use this time over the next few months to talk about a Christian view of government.
Talking about this issue is risky; after all, few things divide Americans more than politics, and sometimes it is safer to just steer clear of the whole conversation. But if we can’t talk about an important issue at church, how can we learn how to think about the issue in a specifically Christian manner?
The series will actually focus on a Christian view of government, not politics. There is a subtle difference—in other words, this is not going to be a time where we parse the specific political issues Americans fight about. Instead, we are going to step back and ask, “What is our relationship to government itself, based on the Bible? What is the purpose of government—any government—in the plan of God? How should we think about ourselves, as Christians, in relationship to the state?”
I hope that you are at least a little intrigued. And I hope that you show up! Our first session (January 19) will be a time to examine the Biblical foundations for this conversation. This will lay the groundwork for the rest of the series, so make certain that you come. As always, childcare for younger children and Sunday School for the upper elementary students will be available. (The middle and high school students will be at Booyah Brrr this weekend.)
In Christ,
Steven+