Advent Devotions for Dec. 9 and 10
Oops! Sorry that I forgot to post Saturday's devotional yesterday. As you can see, it's about failure anyway, so it's strangely appropriate.
December 9, 2006
Luke 22:31-38 (read it here: http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=32754707 )
Failure.
The word burns like acid in our spirits, eroding our sense of self, eating away at our self-confidence, devouring our will to try again. When we fail, we bury it as quickly as we can, afraid to look at our failure again for fear it will consume us anew. Most of us are terrified to admit we’ve failed; if we do so, others will know that we have not always been everything we’ve intended to be.
Jesus looks at Peter. Peter will deny and abandon him; Jesus knows this. Peter will stand in front of a lowly servant girl, terrified, and will say he has never met the man who has shaped his life these last three years, the man who he once confessed was the Christ, the Son of the Living God. Inside, the travesty of justice ensues: Jesus is brought before the court and convicted in a sham trial. Yet Peter remains outside, scared to enter, scared to run, scared and failing, failing, failing.
Jesus knows this will happen. And so he says to Peter, “...once you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” Once you have turned back–once you have sinned and returned, once you have failed and been restored, you must use your failure to strengthen your brothers. That which you dare not even name for fear it will tarnish your reputation and hurt you again, that failure–that is precisely the instrument that God, in his amazing nature, will use to strengthen your brothers. It is not your successes that will strengthen others. Your successes may only discourage the other disciples, make them feel like they’re not capable of being like the great Peter. But your failures, your failures, these are things God can work with.
I wonder what this means for leadership in the church today. Maybe in years gone by, the church was led by Robert Schuller types: grand men in grander buildings, with grand pipe organs and orchestras and Powerpoints and fountains and doctorates and voices like thunder and thousands and thousands and thousands of followers who think they can do no wrong. But maybe today–and tomorrow–the church will be led by people who are not ashamed to say that
we fail.
Maybe today and tomorrow the church will be led by people who know that the only way failure can kill you is if you leave it buried and let it eat away at your mind. But if you expose your failure to the air, it dissolves, and indeed, the air is charged in a new way because of it; and those around you breathe the new air and find strength. When they know you have failed, they will be unafraid to try new things that might fail, but might just bring glory to Jesus in a way that has never been done before. When we share our failures, we strengthen each other. Maybe the church today will be strengthened because you were honest and humble and courageous enough to say
you failed.
Strengthen your sisters and brothers, failures.
December 10, 2006
John 3:22-30 (read it here: http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=32754653 )
In a famous poem, Langston Hughes asked, “What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up/like a raisin in the sun?”
Consider John the Baptist’s dream deferred, or perhaps gone altogether. Preparing the way of the Lord was his vocation. It was the name inscribed on its heart. It was what he was, quite literally, born to do. What happens to a man who lives to prepare the way of the Lord when the Lord actually arrives?
In John the Baptist’s case, this means that suddenly he has an awful lot of free time on his hands. Jesus is across the stream baptizing convert after convert, and John is suddenly baptizing no one. John–John the Baptizer, for goodness’ sake–has no one to baptize. He could no longer do what he was born to do.
The Jewish religious leaders are quick to point this out, hoping to drive a wedge of jealousy between Jesus and John, perhaps anxious to recruit the charismatic locust-chomping leader to their side. “How is it, John,” they hiss, “that Jesus is over there baptizing and you’re, well, alone?”
John’s not taking the bait, though. He says, “Perhaps I am not the groom at this wedding. But I am the best man–the friend of the bridegroom. And it would be a very foolish best man who would disrupt the wedding in order to draw attention to himself. After all, this is the bride and groom’s show–he must increase, and I must decrease.”
What happens to you when the dreams you have for your life are not realized? What happens when you hit thirty and realize that, despite your best efforts, you’re not going to play pro basketball for a living? What happens when you hit forty and realize that you’ve got a family to feed, kids to put through college, and the dreams you had of writing the Great American Novel fall by the wayside? What happens when it becomes obvious that the thing you always dreamed about doing, that one thing, is just not going to happen? Not today, not tomorrow, not ever?
It’s my prayer that in those times, you will know the same peace that John the Baptizer knew. Though he could no longer baptize, though he could no longer do what he longed to do, he took comfort in the fact that his deepest dreams were indeed being realized: Christ was increasing. Though it meant he must decrease, still Christ was increasing. When your dreams have failed to come true, take solace in the fact that Christ has overcome the world.
December 9, 2006
Luke 22:31-38 (read it here: http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=32754707 )
Failure.
The word burns like acid in our spirits, eroding our sense of self, eating away at our self-confidence, devouring our will to try again. When we fail, we bury it as quickly as we can, afraid to look at our failure again for fear it will consume us anew. Most of us are terrified to admit we’ve failed; if we do so, others will know that we have not always been everything we’ve intended to be.
Jesus looks at Peter. Peter will deny and abandon him; Jesus knows this. Peter will stand in front of a lowly servant girl, terrified, and will say he has never met the man who has shaped his life these last three years, the man who he once confessed was the Christ, the Son of the Living God. Inside, the travesty of justice ensues: Jesus is brought before the court and convicted in a sham trial. Yet Peter remains outside, scared to enter, scared to run, scared and failing, failing, failing.
Jesus knows this will happen. And so he says to Peter, “...once you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” Once you have turned back–once you have sinned and returned, once you have failed and been restored, you must use your failure to strengthen your brothers. That which you dare not even name for fear it will tarnish your reputation and hurt you again, that failure–that is precisely the instrument that God, in his amazing nature, will use to strengthen your brothers. It is not your successes that will strengthen others. Your successes may only discourage the other disciples, make them feel like they’re not capable of being like the great Peter. But your failures, your failures, these are things God can work with.
I wonder what this means for leadership in the church today. Maybe in years gone by, the church was led by Robert Schuller types: grand men in grander buildings, with grand pipe organs and orchestras and Powerpoints and fountains and doctorates and voices like thunder and thousands and thousands and thousands of followers who think they can do no wrong. But maybe today–and tomorrow–the church will be led by people who are not ashamed to say that
we fail.
Maybe today and tomorrow the church will be led by people who know that the only way failure can kill you is if you leave it buried and let it eat away at your mind. But if you expose your failure to the air, it dissolves, and indeed, the air is charged in a new way because of it; and those around you breathe the new air and find strength. When they know you have failed, they will be unafraid to try new things that might fail, but might just bring glory to Jesus in a way that has never been done before. When we share our failures, we strengthen each other. Maybe the church today will be strengthened because you were honest and humble and courageous enough to say
you failed.
Strengthen your sisters and brothers, failures.
December 10, 2006
John 3:22-30 (read it here: http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=32754653 )
In a famous poem, Langston Hughes asked, “What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up/like a raisin in the sun?”
Consider John the Baptist’s dream deferred, or perhaps gone altogether. Preparing the way of the Lord was his vocation. It was the name inscribed on its heart. It was what he was, quite literally, born to do. What happens to a man who lives to prepare the way of the Lord when the Lord actually arrives?
In John the Baptist’s case, this means that suddenly he has an awful lot of free time on his hands. Jesus is across the stream baptizing convert after convert, and John is suddenly baptizing no one. John–John the Baptizer, for goodness’ sake–has no one to baptize. He could no longer do what he was born to do.
The Jewish religious leaders are quick to point this out, hoping to drive a wedge of jealousy between Jesus and John, perhaps anxious to recruit the charismatic locust-chomping leader to their side. “How is it, John,” they hiss, “that Jesus is over there baptizing and you’re, well, alone?”
John’s not taking the bait, though. He says, “Perhaps I am not the groom at this wedding. But I am the best man–the friend of the bridegroom. And it would be a very foolish best man who would disrupt the wedding in order to draw attention to himself. After all, this is the bride and groom’s show–he must increase, and I must decrease.”
What happens to you when the dreams you have for your life are not realized? What happens when you hit thirty and realize that, despite your best efforts, you’re not going to play pro basketball for a living? What happens when you hit forty and realize that you’ve got a family to feed, kids to put through college, and the dreams you had of writing the Great American Novel fall by the wayside? What happens when it becomes obvious that the thing you always dreamed about doing, that one thing, is just not going to happen? Not today, not tomorrow, not ever?
It’s my prayer that in those times, you will know the same peace that John the Baptizer knew. Though he could no longer baptize, though he could no longer do what he longed to do, he took comfort in the fact that his deepest dreams were indeed being realized: Christ was increasing. Though it meant he must decrease, still Christ was increasing. When your dreams have failed to come true, take solace in the fact that Christ has overcome the world.
posted by Rev. Michael Jordan at 7:41 AM
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