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The Child in a manger. Sentimental Christmas cards and nativity scenes showing a sanitised environment. No poo in sight. Just a manger with some straw, a Child much older than new born, with a strange golden glow around His head, His father holding a crooked staff, and His mother kneeling at the side of the crib. There might be a cow or two and perhaps a sheep or a donkey in the shadows at the back. And above the stable is a bright star. A well-worn picture in our minds.

But whatever the reality of  Jesus’s birth, I have been challenged afresh about Who that Child in the manger really is. God incarnate. GOD INCARNATE!  Jesus could have come in many different ways and forms. But why a human baby?  So that right from the point of conception He could share our humanity, grow up like we did, facing the same issues that we do, showing us the way to eternal life. “For God so loved the world that he gave…”. No other entrance into our fallen world would have worked in God’s wonderful plan.

But what do we do about the Child in the manger? This divine Baby? We can’t just leave Him there, perhaps in a cupboard waiting for next year. Or in the recycling bin. We have to take Him out of the manger and place Him in our lives, our hearts, our families, our churches. And let Him grow within us, so that we get to know Him in a truly personal way. In the coming year, in the words of the 13th Century prayer, I want to “…see Christ more clearly, love him more dearly, and follow him more nearly”. Day by day.

Romans 12:15 (AMP). Rejoice with those who rejoice [sharing others’ joy], and weep with those who weep [sharing others’ grief].

A dear couple I know are grieving because of the loss of their daughter.  But sitting here this morning, I have this feeling of compassionate helplessness, feeling a little of the pain they must be experiencing, remembering our own daughter’s illness.  In those dark days twenty nine years ago, when the prognosis had no hope, when daily crises sapped our strength, we grieved. Grieving because there was no hope in the prognosis. Mentally preparing ourselves as we were locked into the slow downward progression of our daughter’s disease. And at my desk at work I tried to put the gravity of the situation to one side but it was never far away. The pain was always close by. I used to try and find a quiet place, where I could cry out quietly in my spirit to God. For comfort. For strength. For healing for my daughter. I rattled the gates of heaven in my desperation. No, she wasn’t instantly healed – that came much later. But His grace and love flowed without limit. He came through for me. Oh, how He came through for me! No – He didn’t take away the pain, but He gave me the resources I needed for the moment. And a peace for my soul.
I will keep praying for my friends, that His grace and love will be there for them as well. No, the pain won’t leave them, but the Holy Spirit will be there, whispering in their ears, “I’m here for you and I love you.”

Luke 11:43. When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”

The story of Lazarus, his demise, and resurrection, is recorded in the Gospels. Lazarus was the brother of Mary and Martha, a family living in Bethany near Jerusalem. They were friends of Jesus and He seemed to spend time there to “chill out”. So when Lazarus took sick, naturally his sisters called to Jesus for help. But He didn’t rush back to Bethany and instead carried on ministering where He was, for a further two days. But in the end, Jesus returned and was overcome with the sorrow and grief of the occasion, to the point that He wept (Luke 11:35).  Jesus asked to visit the grave, and at the tomb where Lazarus had been placed four days earlier, He commanded that the stone sealing the tomb was removed. There was a crowd of Jews there – the family was obviously well regarded in the local community – who were comforting the family in their grief. You can only speculate about what they were thinking, because it was unheard of to remove a gravestone in that climate so soon after a burial. Martha, the practical sister, explained, “By this time there is a bad odour.”  But they removed the stone anyway, and Jesus then commanded Lazarus to vacate the tomb – but you know the rest of the story.

But a bit of speculation – please indulge me. There was this man, Lazarus, taken ill with a disease or some other condition that led to his death quite quickly. Just imagine the sequence of events. Perhaps a fever incapacitated him, and he took to his bed. You can imagine his sisters sitting at his bed side, telling him of their love, communicating their concerns, holding his hand, but becoming more and more worried. And Lazarus, weakly battling the ravages of infection, would be lapsing into incoherency, his thoughts all a-jumble, in and out of lucidity, until he falls asleep for the last time. He would have had no idea of the outpouring of grief, the funeral arrangements, the burial. His body dead, but his spirit alive as it transitioned to a resurrected eternity. But then he heard Jesus calling his name! He would have remembered the illness, the lapsing into blackness, as a new life burst into his being, commanded by his Friend and Master. I wonder what he was thinking as he hobbled towards the tomb entrance wrapped up in a mixture of grave clothes and spices!

And now a bit of spiritual extrapolation. I don’t believe Lazarus was singled out by God for special treatment just for Jesus to make a miraculous point to confound the Jewish leaders present there, though I’m sure that was in the plan somewhere. I choose to believe that when I cross the “great divide” my next conscious thought will be Jesus calling my name. “Adrian!” How amazing is that! So if you haven’t yet put your trust in Jesus, don’t leave it too late. One day He can call your name as well.

Our world is scattered with lists of names. On Cenotaphs, war memorials, gravestones, church plaques, memorials, and so on. But such references apply to the dead, to men and women (and sadly some children) who have crossed over the divide between this world and the next. Some in a worthy way, having given their lives for their countries or other good causes. Some through acute sickness or old age. Some heading for Heaven; others … And occasionally the name of a worthy person, such as a sportsperson, celebrity or such will appear in public print. They had a moment of earthly glory, winning a race or competition, acting in a film or play, with their name appearing on a cup, plaque, notice board or plaudits in a film or newspaper. But such a moment fades into the past, and future generations wonder who it was that the name represented, if they can be bothered at all.

But I have been intrigued during my Christian life, of the Scripture in Isaiah 49:16, “See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands…”. I know that in context this is referring to Jerusalem, but as a member of God’s Church, it applies today. To me, as a child of God. Me! So my name is indelibly tattooed on the palms of God’s hands, along with countless numbers of my brothers and sisters in Christ. But why His palms? Why not somewhere else, perhaps His forehead, or sleeve? To me my palm is something used for touching, encouraging, communicating love and caring, perhaps direction. So there’s something significant about where our names are written. Over the years I have been greatly blessed and encouraged by the application of God’s hands. By His touch.

The second thought that struck me is that all earthly recording of names refers, sooner or later, to the dead. But I believe my name, engraved on God’s hand, is there forever. God is the God of the living not the dead! So when I cross over the great divide, my name will still be written on His hand, not as a memorial to a past life, but as a member and active participant in His kingdom. Is that stretching faith too far? I don’t think so. After all, as a child of God, He’s not going to abandon me. It’s against His nature. But face to face with Him in heaven? I don’t think reading my name on His palm will be necessary!

Luke 9:1-2 One day Jesus called together his twelve disciples and gave them power and authority to cast out all demons and to heal all diseases. Then he sent them out to tell everyone about the Kingdom of God and to heal the sick.

James 5:14-15  Are any of you sick? You should call for the elders of the church to come and pray over you, anointing you with oil in the name of the Lord. Such a prayer offered in faith will heal the sick, and the Lord will make you well. And if you have committed any sins, you will be forgiven.

I don’t know what is going on at the moment but so many people I know have cancer. An uncle, a niece. Two neighbours. The daughter of someone we know at Port Ban. Three ladies in our church. In two cases, funeral arrangements are already being made, though death has not yet closed the final curtain. The very word “cancer” seems to strike fear into individuals, families, and the society in which we live. Those who are so afflicted generally don’t talk about it, as though they are ashamed of the diagnosis. Some, usually those without the illness, are quick to say that it is not the death sentence it used to be. And, statistically, it isn’t, but that can be small comfort to the recipients of bad news. The medical remedies are usually intrusive and debilitating. Lives are put on hold while treatment takes place. And when the hoped-for good news emerges, it can be tarnished by a nagging concern that the cancer has returned, when an ache or pain intrudes.

But as Christians what are we to make of this? How can we step back and watch, and let it happen, filling the silence with nervous and pious platitudes? Wringing our hands as the medics do what they can.  In the Gospels, Jesus instructed His disciples to “heal the sick”. No qualifications. No prerequisites. And He didn’t say pray for the sick – they had authority to heal the sick. And no disease was exempt. (I can hear my son-in-law shout ‘Amen!’ as I write). Later on in the book of James, we read that the Elders in the church had the authority to pray over a sick person, accompanied by the annointing with oil, and the presence of faith, bringing about their healing. So rather than praying down a shopping list of sick people’s needs, should we be praying rather for healing authority to return to the church, starting with ourselves? O Lord! Please forgive us for our lack of faith, for our unbelief! Please bring revival to Your church.

Leviticus 25:10 And you shall consecrate the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you…

Luke 4:17-19 [Jesus] unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent Me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

The fiftieth year. The year of Jubilee. Anything significant? Time to reflect, or say, “Just another year”? Time to start something new perhaps? Port Ban has celebrated its fiftieth year this year, but more of that in a later post. But the “fifty years” bit has caused me to reflect.

I was saved in a Pentecostal church nearly forty years ago, at a time when the charismatic renewal was starting to reach every denomination with its refocus on the works and power of the Holy Spirit. Exciting times, with long worship services and sermons. Meetings that people didn’t want to leave. But that was then. What about now? God has been stirring my heart with the thought that He wants us, more than ever, to reach out to the oppressed and bring the message of hope, the message of liberty. Not necessarily by handing out tracts on a street corner, though that might be right for some. Not necessarily by inviting people into church meetings, nice though it would be if numbers swelled. But by bringing liberty to the marginalised at all levels in our society. Setting people free with a kind word, an offer of prayer, a visit to the lonely, imprisoned in their homes or by their circumstances, showing them the Lord’s favour. Jesus went after those who were lost right where they were at, going about “His Father’s business”. In this generation, I don’t think it will be liturgies that will turn people to God. We’ve done that and it doesn’t work. It is God’s love stridently shining in a society becoming increasingly secularised and dark; where love is replaced by “benefits” and the hope of winning the lottery; where people turn to drugs and alcohol to fill an aching, loveless void inside; where the stockbroker and the homeless find themselves united by a poverty of spirit; where the “haves” increase in material comfort, and the “have-nots” become increasingly oppressed and forgotten. It is God’s love making a difference, penetrating into the darkest situation, turning hopelessness into new beginnings. A new realisation that this is the year of the Lord’s favour.

Psalm 139:7-12 (NLT)
7 I can never escape from your Spirit!
I can never get away from your presence!
8 If I go up to heaven, you are there;
if I go down to the grave, you are there.
9 If I ride the wings of the morning,
if I dwell by the farthest oceans,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
and your strength will support me.
11 I could ask the darkness to hide me
and the light around me to become night—
12     but even in darkness I cannot hide from you.
To you the night shines as bright as day.
Darkness and light are the same to you.
Some words in a news report yesterday caught my eye. A tragic road accident in Gloucestershire on the M5 left 4 people dead and 3 more critically injured. A spirit of compassionate humanity arose amongst many other drivers who were caught in a tailback between police cordons. Some shared water and food. The news reporter wrote, “…motorists patiently wait with some eager to help. I overheard one asking if any prayer support was needed. While others talk to police officers about the sadness of what has happened.” Prayer support. A no-brainer for us Christians. We should always be looking for opportunities to pray for people. And if necessary, just pray. After all, we are God’s ambassadors to this sinful world, with a precious opportunity to open a door, revealing His  heart in a time of need.

The same news bulletin reported that a Humanist Society in Scotland survey revealed only a quarter of Scots claim to be religious. Another ploy of the enemy to divide and discourage those like us who know God personally. One day our humanist friends will realise that all along they have just been puppets strung along by the evil one. But God loves them as well. However, faced with an M5 disaster, they have nothing to say, no prayers to offer, just a hopeless future.

And I proceeded to dwell on how God is so very present in our environment and society, whatever others might say.  As the Psalmist wrote, “Where can we go from Your presence?” I wrote in my prayer diary this morning, “I thank You Lord, for Your amazing presence that prevails in the world today, impacting each one of us with Your grace and love. So much of You is interwoven in the world and peoples around us. And although the enemy will try and destroy what You have put in place, he fails miserably.” Amen?

Habakkuk 3:17-19 (The Message)
Though the cherry trees don’t blossom and the strawberries don’t ripen.
Though the apples are worm-eaten and the wheat fields stunted.
Though the sheep pens are sheepless and the cattle barns empty.
I’m singing joyful praise to God.
I’m turning cartwheels of joy to my Saviour God.
Counting on God’s Rule to prevail, I take heart and gain strength.
I run like a deer.
I feel like I’m king of the mountain!

In the last few weeks and months global events have brought worry and concern to people everywhere. Terrorist incidents, unprecedented floods, hurricanes, earthquakes, threats of war, political instabilities, famines – in fact Jesus warned His disciples about such things in Matthew 24.  But my Bible reading notes have taken me to Habakkuk for the past two months, in a review of what the prophet and his society were facing around 600 BC. Then as now, global ‘powers’ put their trust in their own strength. Then as now, world events were out of control, driven by sin. But God revealed to Habakkuk what He was going to do and, although initially devastated, Habakkuk came to a point where he wrote the text above. There has never been a point in history when there has not been some catastrophe happening somewhere in the world, so it is extremely comforting to know that God is in control of everything; always has been, and always will be. He may not act in the way we would like Him to, but ultimately His righteousness, justice and holiness will prevail. So can we write our own verses, in the style of the Message? Here’s my attempt:

Though terrorists kill and maim, and peoples everywhere “do what is right in their own eyes”;
Though world weather patterns become more extreme, and earthquakes and floods become more common;
Though our churches decline in numbers, and Christians fall away from their faith;
Though our government continues to marginalise Christians by more and more secular legislation, and our schools increasingly promote wrong values about sexuality and morality, and confuse and defile our children;
Though our hospitals and clinics continue to murder countless unborn children with society’s blessing, and that same society wrings its hands when a child dies following abuse.

I will trust in Father God, comforted that He has everything under His control.
I will lift up my hands and heart to Him, praising His wonderful love and grace.
I will rest in worship, meditating on His glorious presence.
I will never stop thanking Him for His Spirit in the lives of my family and friends.
I can jump into His presence whenever events threaten and depress.
I will pray that His rule and kingdom will prevail over all else.
I will not be afraid of anything coming my way, secure in His protection.
I can offer Him grateful thanks for each day, each breath, each heart beat.
I can look into eternity, overwhelmed by what is to come.
So…

Words cannot express adequately what is inside me, but God knows. Can you join me in writing your own verses?

John 1:1-4 In the beginning the Word already existed. The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God. God created everything through him, and nothing was created except through him. The Word gave life to everything that was created, and his life brought light to everyone.

In my prayer time this morning, I was struck again by the thought that God created all matter. By a word. Out of nothing. The universe, the world, and all that is in it. And then I looked at my hands as they typed, and realised that every cell, every part, in amazing and awesome complexity, was created by God. But matter is something that is inert – think of dust, sand on the beach, something metallic. Inert. But is it? How amazing it is that God has taken inert matter and formed it into complex shapes and then given it life. And the living world was created. Everything animal and vegetable, in seemingly endless variety. And there’s more. Each lump of living matter has the capacity to generate more lumps of living matter, each recognisably the same, but individually unique. And there’s even more. The capacity to think and be creative has been granted to mankind. And God has set us into the middle of this beautiful creative explosion, perhaps as a foretaste of what is to come to those who love Him? Wow! But sin tries its hardest to spoil everything, egged on by the rebellious forces of darkness. And creation-deniers abound, pompously and arrogantly declaring it all happened by accident. But God won’t be mocked. He will have the last word. He is the Word!

Psalm 8:1 Lord, our Lord how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory in the heavens.

It had been a windy day, the seas whipped up by a strong Westerly breeze, blowing clouds across the sky, rustling through the reeds and ferns that make up much of the vegetation around us. Blue sky appeared during the afternoon and we were finally treated to another wonderful sunset over Jura, accompanied by increasing stillness as the wind died away. An atmosphere of peace and tranquility, though the agitation of the waves continued, as though unconvinced that the wind wasn’t still there, waiting to return and stir them up again. As the sun dipped over the Paps of Jura, the sky increasingly assumed wonderful hues of yellow, orange, red, merging from one colour to another, seamlessly changing to a light blue above me. A single star appeared to the South West, winking away, increasing the beauty of the scene. I stood there for a few moments, looking up at the heavens, experiencing the wonder that God lives above the Heavens, looking down at His creation. And showing us a glimpse of His glory. Wow!