The Face of Christ

A short, roughly-cut black beard, olive brown skin weathered from spending most of his time outside in a warm middle eastern climate, a strong, straight nose and dark brown eyes. From what history tells us of the appearance of men during the time of Jesus, this is an approximate description of how He might have looked. Imagination might embellish with deep creases around His mouth from smiling, slight shadows above His cheekbones from a nomadic lifestyle short on sleep, and eyes like His Father’s, full of compassion and love.

This beloved face is described by the prophet Isaiah 700 years before Christ’s birth, as “having no beauty or majesty to attract us to Him, nothing in His appearance that we should desire Him.” (Isa. 53:2 NIV) He was an ordinary-looking man of His time, with no distinguishing physical features to set Him apart. Although prophesied as the Messiah, He wore none of the usual emblems of royalty, making His true identity visible only to the discerning eyes of faith.

Three of Jesus’ disciples saw His face in a new light when Christ revealed His glory to them. “There He was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and His clothes became as white as light.” (Matt. 17:2) Peter, James and John were privileged to see Christ in His glorified state, with the light of His holiness shining from His face.

As the time of His crucifixion approached, Jesus steadfastly set His face to go to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51 NKJV), facing the completion of His earthly mission with determination, even as He knew the inevitable outcome. Isaiah records the prophecy that the Messiah’s face would resolutely be set like a flint (Isa.50:7) toward the suffering He must endure. Before the crucifixion, His captors spit upon, beat and disfigured His face until it was marred beyond human likeness (Isa.52:14) Those who once knew His familiar face no longer recognized it. Nor did they expect to see it again after His death, yet He was resurrected to life, whole and identifiable by the many people who encountered Him before He ascended to heaven.

The features of Jesus will not always be a mystery to us. Some day we will behold Him in heaven, where we will see His face clearly. “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 Cor.13:12) In the meantime we have a purpose to fulfill, given to us when we first believed in Christ, our risen Savior. “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made His light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.” (2 Cor.4:6) We are to let this light shine from our own faces to a hurting world.

Do you want to see the face of Christ? Then look into the faces of those who love and serve Him here on earth, perhaps even your own face, and you will see the resemblance.

In the Wake of the Storm

At some point that evening I went from being exhilarated by the fierce summer storm raging outside, to fleeing in fear to the only windowless room in our home. I huddled with my husband in the dark while the wind roared and shook the house as if it were too close to a speeding freight train. Finally sensing a lessening in the storm’s clamor, we cautiously crept out to witness the utter chaos left in the wake of its violent tantrums. Broken tree limbs and debris littered the lawn, but worse was the uprooted cottonwood tree stretched like a slain giant across our crumpled fence into the yard behind, barely missing the neighbor’s house.

In the following days as we cleaned up the wreckage from the storm, I mourned the loss of the cottonwood tree. On hot summer days we used to rest in our lawn chairs under its cool shade, lulled by the lyric rustle of its leaves in the breeze. It had been a green sanctuary to myriads of birds which we enjoyed watching splash in our nearby birdbath. Our grandchildren once climbed the lower branches, safe in its woody embrace. Now an ugly stump was all that remained, and empty space where once a friendly giant stood.

My husband took a more pragmatic view of the loss of the tree. He saw how its absence allowed more sunlight to reach his vegetable garden, especially the rows closest to the fence which always did poorly for lack of light. We observed carrots and parsnips gradually flourish with more sunlight to strengthen them.

In her book, “Roots & Sky”, author Christie Purifoy writes, “God does not erase our losses, those empty places in our lives, but He does something almost more miraculous. He fills the loss with a sign of His presence.” Losing a tree cannot compare to losing a loved one, or a marriage or a part of who you are, but for me it was a picture of how loss opens up room for a new work of God.

There was a time in my life when I lost everything I had ever feared losing; my marriage, financial security, health and family unity. In the midst of these devastating losses, I could not imagine a future when all would be made new, even better than before. But God could. “His mighty power at work within us is able to do far more than we would ever dare to ask or even dream of.” (Eph. 3:20 TLB)

God takes loss and turns it into abundance. In the ashes of my pain, I discovered the abundance of God’s love, His perfect character and His always faithful promises. When life left me hollowed out, He filled the space with His own presence. As I discovered, this is God’s specialty, giving beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. (Isa. 61:3 NKJV)

In the equation of loss becoming abundance, He uniquely illustrates for each of us His supreme renewal project, the death and resurrection of His Son, Jesus Christ.

“I tell you the truth,” Jesus said, “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” (John 12:24 NIV) He was speaking of Himself as the Seed, abused, crucified, buried in a dark tomb. Then the Seed came bursting forth alive, His resurrection beginning a great harvest of souls for God’s kingdom. Death gave way to life. Decay became deliverance.

A mighty tree once stood in my yard where now there is just a weathered stump. However new light floods a healthy garden where many seeds now flourish in abundance. In our memory’s landscape, the scar of a loss does not need to be a place of pain forever. It may be remembered, even mourned, but more significantly, it is a landmark telling where God met us and how He brought restoration and renewal out of the darkest places of our world.

Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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.

In Simeon’s Arms

Simeon’s robes flowed out behind him as he strode to the temple. Blood surged strongly through his aged limbs, making him feel years younger. How eagerly he had waited for this moment! Long ago God’s Spirit revealed to him that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. This very morning in his prayers a fervency came upon him to hurry to the temple, for he knew the time had come.

The temple courts were crowded and noisy, the air thick with the smell of animals and smoke from the altar of sacrifice. The din reached Simeon as if from a distance as he listened in his spirit for the confirmation he knew was to come.

They were no different than many others in the crowd, yet Simeon’s heart hammered in his chest when he saw them, a young couple standing by a pillar, dusty and weary from travel. With one arm the man circled his wife’s shoulders protectively and in the other was a wooden cage containing two pigeons. The young woman held a child in her arms. This was the one.

Simeon was familiar with the prophecies about the Messiah coming as a child. “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel, God with us”, the prophet Isaiah foretold. Yet how could the Redeemer, the Prince of peace, he who would be King over all the earth come as a mere helpless infant? If Simeon had learned anything in his years of faith, it was that Yahweh was a God of mystery and paradox. He no longer questioned, only trusted the Spirit within him.

The woman’s gentle eyes looked at him in question as Simeon eased the swaddled baby from her arms. He smiled in reassurance and she nodded trustingly. Simeon suspected the young mother of his Lord was getting used to unusual happenings concerning her child. He cradled the infant close to his chest, feeling the warmth from the little body spreading deep into his soul. The child opened his eyes and gazed up at Simeon. There were no earthquakes or shooting stars, just an indelible imprint on his heart. Here in his grasp was the one who would bind up the brokenhearted and comfort all who mourn….the long-awaited consolation of Israel. Lifting the child towards heaven, Simeon sang forth a hymn of praise.
“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace.
For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light of revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.”

The young couple marveled at what was said about their son. Like all parents, they thought their child was special, but did they know who he was destined to be? Simeon gently placed the baby back in his mother’s arms, speaking a tender blessing over the family. His eyes filled with tears and his heart was heavy as he imparted to the woman what the Spirit impressed on him. This child was meant to suffer according to Yahweh’s sovereign plan, so his mother too would feel the sword of sorrow pierce her own soul. She nodded perceptively at what Simeon said, then bent over her son. A small hand reached for her face and she smiled. Simeon knew that for now this was enough. This beloved child would bring much joy to the world, as he had brought it to an old man waiting at the temple, who could now go home in peace.
(based on Luke 2:21-35)

painting by Ron DiCianni

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