Treasure

In the quiet of a Nazareth night, while her family slumbered around her, Mary lay awake, pondering what the angel had told her. She turned the words over and over in her mind, in no doubt of their meaning yet filled with wonder and even fear, at what was in store for her life. The Son of the Most High. Of all the mysteries the angel portended, this was the treasure she held closest to her heart. The Messiah, her child. She hugged her knees and smiled in the dark.

She cherished the secret alone until her cousin, Elizabeth, felt her own unborn child leap in her womb at the sound of Mary’s voice. Filled with God’s Spirit, Elizabeth spoke forth the truth of the holy one to be born of the pure young woman before her. Mary’s inner meditations became a song magnifying the Mighty One who had done great things for her.

On the night she gave birth in Bethlehem, a humble band of shepherds came to the stable to see the child. Their faces shone from witnessing the glory of heaven proclaim who this child was and what he had come to do. When Mary heard their story she treasured up all that they said, holding it close within herself.

As he grew, she stored up in her heart other events in the life of her unique son, knowing intuitively there was significance in each one. She was a simple country woman, yet she had been taught about the Messiah, a savior of his people, never imagining how his coming would impact her personally. Simeon’s words the day her child was presented at the temple and given the name of Jesus, and the visit of the Magi from the east, bearing treasure for a king; no detail of these occurrences escaped her keen observation. She absorbed them into her soul where they grew more precious with each remembrance.

Every Advent season brings us an opportunity to treasure up all these things and ponder them in our heart, just as Mary did. The scriptural narration of the coming of Christ is a beautiful, mysterious story, full of details and revelations never to be fully fathomed. Each facet sheds a glorious light on the treasure at the center, Emmanuel, God with us.

At a time of year when there are numerous distractions, it can be difficult to find quiet moments for our mind and heart to dwell on the Incarnation, to soak in the wonder of mighty God becoming a mere infant, to remember the purpose which compelled Him. But it is a worthy quest to seek after the riches found in all the Christ child brought to us at His coming. Like Mary, ponder them in your heart and the treasure who is Christ will flood it with His love.

“I want them to have complete confidence that they understand God’s mysterious plan, which is Christ Himself. In Him lie hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.”
~ Col. 2:2-3 New Living Translation ~

Advent Week 3 ~ V for Vessel

Entering week 3 using the word “Advent” as an acrostic for a series of devotionals, my prayer for each reader is for God to fashion you as well, into a willing vessel for His glory.

The seaside park blossoms with booths and tents showcasing the richly diverse talents of artisans and craftspeople. My favourites are the potter’s works; earthenware, stoneware, ceramics and porcelain made for beauty as well as functionality. I like to carefully handle the pieces that interest me, feeling where the potter pressed his thumb into the wet clay on a mug handle, or used her hands to narrow the neck of a vase formed on a potter’s wheel. Simply put, they make vessels, hollow containers for holding something but it is obvious that their creations are so much more.

In the nativity story, Mary, the mother of Jesus, became a human vessel to receive the Spirit of God. In His infinite, mysterious wisdom God chose this poor peasant girl to carry His beloved Son in her womb. She asked the angel, “How will this be, since I am a virgin?” (Luke 1:34 NIV) It is a question pondered by many since. The angel told her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.” (Luke 1:35)

What qualities did God look for in a human vessel for His Son? Did He lovingly hold His creation, Mary, in His hands, turning her this way and that, looking into her soul for those certain attributes only He knew would suit His purpose? What set her apart from all other young women of her time who could have borne the Son of God? I cannot fathom the answer to these questions but I can rest in the certainty that He chose the perfect vessel.

God chose a vessel, first of all, who was pure. In order for His Son to be born a sinless man, He could not be conceived in sin, but would be born of a virgin. As Isaiah prophesied centuries before, “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel, God with us.” (Isa. 7:14b)

Mary was highly favored by God, according to the angel, so the purity He required in the mother of His holy Son was not only physical but spiritual. In her simple faith Mary exhibited qualities which pleased God, such as trust, faithfulness, humility and obedience. All these traits are evident in the telling of Mary’s story in the first chapter of Luke. Most noticeable is her unerring faith and willingness to believe that what the Lord had said to her would be accomplished. “ ‘I am the Lord’s servant,’ Mary answered. ‘May it be to me as you have said.’” (Luke 1:38)

Not only was she a willing vessel to carry the Son of God, she also would have realized that judgement and condemnation would come with her role. Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph but they were not yet man and wife, so her pregnancy would bring with it shame and reproach from those who knew her. No one would believe in her purity, except Joseph, who had it revealed to him by an angel of the Lord. She graciously accepted the damage to her reputation for the singular privilege of bearing God’s Son.

A vessel is open at the top to receive the contents intended for it. I picture Mary’s spiritual posture as open, receptive to whatever her Lord would pour into her willing heart. I have much to learn from the mother of my Savior by her servant attitude and humility. The treasure of God’s Spirit is contained in this body of mine, this earthen vessel, so that the transcendent character of this power will be clearly seen as coming from God and not from me. (2 Cor. 4:7) My supreme privilege is to be poured out for Him.

Looking for the One

I think I was always looking even when I did not know who I was looking for. Like any child, my days were spent doing small things in my small world but I remember a vague yearning, a searching for something outside myself. Lying on my back in the grass, gazing up into the limitless blue sky, I wondered who had made it all so beautiful. Surely this amazing world had a Maker and if the Maker made the world, then he made me too. So I went looking for him.

The cardboard Jesus stuck on a flannel board at Sunday School hardly fit my idea of a Maker. His pristine robes and benign expression belonged to someone who appeared too mundane to explode a universe into being, no matter what my teacher said. So I kept on looking.

I looked within my family and friends, but their love stayed on the plane of earth, imperfect and variable. I looked for the ultimate answer in education and knowledge, but came away confused by too many contradictory ideas. I ran fast after romantic love, thinking all questions would be answered through the heart, but found it to be a tender organ, quick to bruise and slow to heal.

The gravity of this world held me down. My eyes saw horizontally, my time taken with looking after my physical needs day after day. Yes, I was looking, but through squinted eyes, instead of opening them wide to the reality of a Maker who is Messiah, the anointed, God with us. I didn’t bother to look up, to raise my eyes to the Risen One, to recognize that death had no hold on Him.

Years later when the words of God took on life for me, I saw my seeking self in the women who came to Jesus’ tomb after his burial. They expected to find an earth-bound Jesus, no longer reachable, his body cold and gray in death. Reality was much different. “The angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said.’ ” (Matt. 28:5-6 NIV) They were looking for the living among the dead, as the angel said. But Jesus was not there. He was alive again! And later he appeared to them in the flesh.

It wasn’t until the painful weight of this world pushed my face in the dirt that I truly looked. Looked up with sin-caked eyes, desperate to be loved no matter what, yearning for a life beyond this. Looked up because to look down meant death. Looked up to discover a free, forgiven, forever eternity with Jesus, the lover of my soul. He once said, “For my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.” (John 6:40) When I believed, then I discovered He had been looking at me all this time, waiting to welcome me into His embrace.

I am still looking, but not because I am still seeking. I have found who I was looking for all my life, even when I did not know who He was. I am looking to Jesus now because He is beautiful to me, in His perfection, in His power, in His compassion. And I will never stop looking.

“Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” (1 Corinthians 13:12)

 

 

Words to an Unborn King

The road is rough and long to Bethlehem, my child, so to distract myself from the discomfort, I will talk to you in my heart. Where do I begin?

My life was no different than any other girl in Nazareth. I came from a poor family, yet we found joy and comfort in our faith in the Lord God. My father had just pledged me to be married to Joseph, the man now leading the donkey we are riding on. He is a good and upright man, a carpenter from the line of David. That is why we are traveling to Bethlehem, to register for the census in his own town. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Do you remember the night the angel came? Of course you do; you sent him after all. I have never felt so afraid, until he spoke to me. How could I, never having been with a man, give birth to the Son of the Most High? For that is what he told me would happen. “The Holy Spirit will come upon you,” he said, “and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.” (1) You, my child! It is you the angel spoke of!

I remember often hearing the prophetic words of our forefather, Isaiah. “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: the virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.” (2) That I should be the virgin chosen to give you birth is beyond my comprehension. As the angel told me, nothing is impossible with God. When peace flooded my heart, even in the face of such an extraordinary announcement, all I could say was, “May it be to me as you have said.” (3)

I am so grateful the angel told me about the miracle of Elizabeth’s expected child. The reality of who you are came clear when her child leaped in her womb at the sound of my voice and the Holy Spirit caused her to bless me as the mother of her Lord. Those months I spent with her before her baby’s birth strengthened me for what lay ahead.

As I see Joseph walking steadfastly ahead of us, I am filled with gratitude for this man chosen by God before I knew about you. He had every right to set me aside before our formal marriage, once you were evident, but he chose to believe what the angel of the Lord told him. Even in the face of public condemnation and family scorn he remained obedient. He will be a kind and loving earthly father to you, my son.

All these months you have been growing inside me, child, I have considered your destiny. It is prophesied you will be a king who will save your people from their sins. Only God can save us from our sins, and you are He. It is a mystery to me how you will do this. Because you are Messiah, you will make a way. For now I wait for your coming, longing to hold you in my arms. Through the gathering dusk I see lamps glowing in the windows of Bethlehem. Can you wait until we get there, little one? Already I feel you stretching and pushing to be born, but let the world wait a little longer to see you. I want to keep you close awhile so I may treasure up all these things and ponder them in my heart.

1 – Luke 1:35 NIV     2 – Isaiah 7:14    3 – Luke 1:38