CLOTH FOR THE CRADLE ADVENT DEVOTIONAL
December 1—A Personal Story: The Parable of the Sew-er
When I was a boy, I’d watch my mother sewing clothing for us. She’d pick up a pattern from the fabric store, along with cloth and thread and buttons and zippers. She’d spread the cloth out on my sister’s bed because she didn’t have a sewing room, and with straight pins attached the pieces of the pattern to the fabric. With attention to detail, she’d cut pieces out and stack them on the side of the sewing machine; and then she’d go make supper. And there the pieces would wait, sometimes for weeks or months until she decided to circle around and start putting the project together.
To my eye it was just a stack of unassorted scraps. Long rectangles that might be sleeves or pantlegs. There were small pieces that might become pockets or collars or cuffs or just leftover bits that would eventually end up in scrap pile to be repurposed in some other project, but who could tell? They were abstract and inscrutable. How do these scraps fit together?
It’s a parable for many of our experiences in life. We experience pain and loss, and wonder how that fits into God’s plan for our lives. We take detours in life that start out exciting but end at a dead end. So many stories are held in suspension, and we ponder, “How God is going to pull it all together?”
That’s part of the wonder of the Christmas story for me. Emerging from the broken fragments of the stories of Israel and the Jews—emerging from the broken fragments of the human experience—Jesus is born when so many hopes and dreams were held in suspense. There were things spoken by prophets who probably didn’t understand how a future Messiah would bring new life to almost-forgotten words. Even the characters of the Christmas story have disconnected storylines that seem to be pulling away toward the horizon with the tide of time; why do foreign astrologers show up to worship a Jewish baby? Where did they come and where did they go? But in the advent of Jesus Christ among us, the God who is hidden and manifest in all these stories, like a skilled quilter, takes these scraps of human experience and joins them into something beautiful.
While many think of the season of Advent as a season of Christmas parties and celebrations, if you’re not familiar, the Advent is a season of prayer and personal reflection. These weeks are not simply intended to prepare us for joyful Christmas Day, they’re intended to prepare us for the coming of Christ into our lives every day! This Advent, we’ll explore many of those fragmented stories like Elizabeth and Zechariah’s story—they had waited for years for a child and had given up hope. And Joseph—when he proposed marriage to Mary, I’m sure he had no idea the bumpy ride that was in store for him. But God masterfully took the fragments of these lives and wove or quilted or sewed them together into the beautiful story that is the Christmas story.
What are some of the scraps of your life story that you’re still trying to fit? Events that are misshapen or out of the ordinary? Experiences that seem to lie to the side, unused or even unusable? As you begin this Advent journey, pray that perhaps God will reveal some deeper connection.
December 2—A Story from the Old Testament: Heads and Heels
The Lord God said…
“I will put enmity between you and the woman,
and between your offspring and hers;
he will strike your head,
and you will strike his heel.” Genesis 3:15
Growing up I always felt a little self-conscious about my sister Sherry, who is deaf, and who lived at home with me and my parents. When friends came over, I tried to keep our interactions separate. Sometimes it was difficult to communicate with her, she didn’t get my sense of humor, and sometimes she had some annoying traits. We lived in the same house, but, reflecting back, a lot of the time I think we more or less just walked around each other. For years I wondered what that story was about, until I became a pastor and realized what I had missed: for all the ways that her disability set her apart, I was the one who was broken and imperfect. I had a lot to learn about the importance of love and acceptance of everyone. It was an uncomfortable and irreconcilable scrap of a story until I was convicted of how I had failed and sinned, but it was also a path toward redemption as I learned from my error and grew as a person.
In the opening chapters of Genesis there’s a passing prophecy that no one in Scripture seems to have picked up on. In Genesis 3, the man and woman had just sinned, tempted by the serpent, and while serpent is receiving his comeuppance from God, the Lord slips in a line about Eve’s offspring “crushing the serpent’s head” as the serpent strikes her offspring’s heel. A line that had been there from the beginning. A line that even the writers of the New Testament seem to have overlooked. But it caught the attention of some second century Christians who saw that this was more than an offhand remark of the animosity between humans and snakes—for Christians this was a prophecy that one day the Messiah would crush the head of Satan. It took a long time to realize what that strange story was about, but the path of redemption was already hinted.
It was just a scrap of a sad story, hidden in plain sight, but in Christ that scrap has been sewn together into the beautiful fabric of the Gospel story. God asks us to listen closely and pay attention, even to things that don’t seem to fit. In God’s genius, there might be a stunning revelation waiting just under the surface.
Dec. 3—A Christmas Hymn: “O Little Town of Bethlehem”
O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight
There are a number of inaccuracies in many of our favorite Christmas hymns. “Away in a Manger” says that the mooing of the cows awakened the newborn babe, but “Little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes.” I feel confident that cows awakening a newborn would have resulted in plenty of breathy newborn cries.
And the song “Little Drummer Boy”, as sweet and sentimental as it is, if a snare drummer had shown up that first night and started tapping out a drum solo, I’m sure that Mary would have gone into conniptions barking at the young percussionist to cut it out.
But there’s something genuine with “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” The town is quietly sleeping while the savior of the world slips in unnoticed. To me, that rings true. The ruler and creator of all creation came into this world in a small village without fanfare or a large retinue, yet “the hope and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.”
The hopes and fears of all the years; that’s a rich line. All the hopes and fears of Israel and the Jewish people; all the hopes and fears of that small village; all the hopes and fears of my small city; all the hopes and fears of humanity; all of them are met in Jesus.
How has Jesus met you in your hopes and fears? What hopes and fears are you still waiting upon?
Dec. 4—A Christmas Prayer
Lord, in this holy season of prayer and song and laughter, we praise you for the great wonders you have sent us: for shining star and angel's song, for infant's cry in lowly manger. We praise you for the Word made flesh in a little Child. We behold his glory and are bathed in its radiance.
Be with us as we sing the ironies of Christmas, the incomprehensible comprehended, the poetry made hard fact, the helpless Babe who cracks the world asunder. We kneel before you with the shepherds, innkeeper and wise men. Help us to rise bigger than we are. Amen.
Dec. 5—A Prophecy of the Messiah: The Suffering Servant
“Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter,
And like a lamb silent before its shearer,
So he does not open his mouth.
In his humiliation justice was denied him.
Who can describe his generation?
For his life is taken away from the earth.” Isaiah 53:7-8
In the book of Acts, chapter 8, the Ethiopian Eunuch is bumping along in a chariot, reading the passage from Isaiah above, probably for the first time, completely befuddled by what he’s reading. “About whom, may I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?” the Eunuch asks of Stephen, one of the first Christian evangelists, who was riding in the chariot with him. I’m sure the Eunuch wasn’t the only one who stumbled through this passage of Isaiah. We sense there’s a meaningful story behind it, but how do injustice and humiliation connect with God’s plan to bring redemption to the world?
I wonder if the Eunuch felt some personal connection with that Scripture? I’m sure he knew what humiliation and denial of justice felt like. Because of his physical condition the Eunuch would have been treated as a social pariah in Jerusalem. Though traveling a thousand miles in pilgrimage from Ethiopia to Jerusalem like any other faithful and dedicated Jew might do, the Eunuch’s entry into the Temple in Jerusalem would have been strictly forbidden! The Scriptures are clear that any physical defect such as the Eunuch’s made him not only unclean, but an outright abomination. I’m sure the Eunuch’s experience in Jerusalem was just one more misshapen fragment in a lifetime of micro-aggressions and outright humiliations.
But Stephen replied with the good news. This was a prophecy about Jesus, God’s Son, who came to give his life that everyone might be a child of God. Jesus was the lamb who suffered and died for us. Jesus is the suffering servant of Isaiah, the one who gave his life for everyone, even for the Eunuch. Though some prefer to marginalize the Eunuch, God does not. There is nothing to prevent the Eunuch from being baptized and fully welcomed among God’s people! As the puzzle piece of the suffering servant fell into place in God’s design, so the Eunuch’s fragmented life fell into place too.
For the early Christians, it was the Holy Spirit that helped open their eyes and hearts to see and read the Scriptures, and the world, with new light and insight. And it is still the Holy Spirit that guides our hearts and minds today as we read the Bible, as we read our lives, and as we read the world around us. Say a prayer that the Holy Spirit will guide you to see the deeper connections in God’s word and in your life.
Dec. 6—From the Gospels: Christmas with Matthew’s Family
An account of the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham.
Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, and Judah the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar, and Perez the father of Hezron, and Hezron the father of Aram, and Aram the father of Aminadab, and Aminadab the father of Nahshon, and Nahshon the father of Salmon, and Salmon the father of Boaz by Rahab, and Boaz the father of Obed by Ruth, and Obed the father of Jesse, and Jesse the father of King David. And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah…Matthew 1:1-6
Matthew’s Christmas story begins with an important reminder that this is, fundamentally, family story. It’s a genealogical list, 42 generations long; one of those long catalogs of names of people, many of whom we don’t know, but many about whom we do know something.
It’s often been pointed out that in all the “begetting” that’s going on, Matthew lists, almost exclusively, men as the “begatters”. Everyone knows that women are a key part of that whole “begetting” thing. Also, it’s been pointed out that when Matthew refers to a woman in Jesus’ lineage, he’s rather selective. We all know that Abraham’s wife, Sarah, was a part of that lineage, but her name isn’t mentioned. And Jacob married two women, Leah and Rachel, but neither of them are mentioned. However, Judah, the son of Jacob, had a tryst with his daughter-in-law Tamar; she got pregnant and of course they were never married. Curiously, despite the scandal of it all, Tamar made Matthew’s list. Rahab, a prostitute who lived in Jericho, is mentioned the lineage. And so is Ruth who clearly used her feminine wiles to seduce her future husband Boaz. And finally, there’s Bathsheba who is referred to as “the wife of Uriah”—that whole story is quite indelicate and scandalous. If you’re keeping score, the only four women named in the lineage of Jesus all have some shadowy stories in their life.
I guess all that’s to say, Matthew reminds us that Jesus was born to a very human and imperfect family. Even in the 21st century it’s not uncommon to hear concerns that so-and-so has been involved in something shameful, and it’s brought shame and scandal to themselves, to their families, to their entire network of relationships. People scoff and shake their heads and wonder how anything good could ever come of that family after that happened. The story of Jesus’ family reminds us that nothing and no one is beyond God’s redemption. Even situations that seemed destined for apocalyptic collapse might find God can resurrect new possibilities out of the ashes. Even in your imperfect and human family, Christmas means God is at work, redeeming your family story too.
December 7—From Paul’s Letters: A Life Razed and Redeemed
I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has strengthened me, because he considered me faithful and appointed me to his service, even though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance: that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost. But for that very reason I received mercy, so that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display the utmost patience as an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life. To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen. 1 Timothy 1:12-17
The Apostle Paul was “on the way” when he found Jesus, or Jesus found him. Paul was on his way to Damascus to raise Cain with the Christians there. Here’s a hint to all young people on choices of profession: if you’re ever looking for a good career choice in life, find a bunch of people who can be labeled and scapegoated, and then start doing everything you can to marginalize and persecute them—people will pay you good money to watch you work. Paul wasn’t just on his way to Damascus to cause trouble; he was on his way in life. He was head and shoulders above his peers with an unimpeachable reputation. He had a clear target to aim for in trying to marginalize and dismantle the Christian faith, and he had the support of those in power.
And with a bolt of lightning, a voice from the skies, Paul saw himself for who he really was: “a blasphemer, a persecutor, a man of violence”, and the “foremost of sinners”. He had the adulation of everyone; everyone except the One who really mattered.
Paul, who was a tentmaker by trade, had been crafting his life as a seamless piece of canvas, but God tore it apart and then sewed it back together. The foremost of sinners became the foremost evangelist. Moving forward from his conversion, many looked at Paul’s life as a shredded mess, but Paul saw the beauty of God’s grace and mercy, mending and redeeming and making him whole again.
This story is repeated countless times in the Scriptures. Jacob’s life fell apart several times, and God was faithful to redeem him and transform him into a new man named Israel. David’s life was a series of interruptions, failures and undeserved grace.
According to the Christmas stories of Matthew and Luke, Jesus came into the world knowing that he was and would be recognized as ruler of all creation. I’m sure the things about Jesus’ glory that the angel and Elizabeth and Simeon and Anna told Mary were repeated to Jesus as he grew up. But the path to recognition of ruler of all creation led him first to the shame and defeat of the cross. Jesus’ life was razed before he was raised!
Has your life, or the life of someone else you know, fallen apart? We can trust that God is crafting a story of redemption, given time and faith. Let us humbly cry out with Paul: To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen!