The author of Hebrews gave believers a task: "Let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds ... , not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the day drawing near" (10:24–25). One of the ways we, as the people of God, can stimulate and encourage one another is by sharing stories of God's faithfulness.

Rick Walker, a member of Oakridge Bible Chapel, shares some of what God has been teaching him over the past few years, months, and through various life circumstances. God is faithful, and Rick can—and does—attest to that!

The author of Hebrews gave believers a task: "Let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds ... , not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the day drawing near" (10:24–25). One of the ways we, as the people of God, can stimulate and encourage one another is by sharing stories of God's faithfulness.

Godsgrace Agu, a member of Oakridge Bible Chapel, shares an abridged version of how God has been demonstrating his faithfulness through the last number of turbulent and unpredictable years.

When I was thinking about what I was going to preach on today, I got thinking about how special it is when Christmas is on a Sunday, because it happens so infrequently. There’s no denying that these Christmas Sundays are special, and in some ways that can make it feel like a lot of pressure. I know it’s not uncommon for preachers to struggle with a real or self-imposed expectation when it comes to the advent season, to preach something new or unique, so we’re not just rehashing the same Christmas story everyone’s heard 100 times.  

Yet as I reflected on the significance of a Sunday morning Christmas service, and as I thought about that same Christmas story, it really seemed like there was no other choice that was fitting for such a day than to return to the heart of it all in Luke chapter 2. The reality is that there is a lot we remember or think we know about the Christmas story, but even after hearing it 100 times over, we can still mess up the details. We like to imagine the drama, to think about what that night would’ve looked like for Mary and Joseph. We want the birth story! Give us all the nitty gritty!  

But the Biblical account doesn’t actually give us that many details about the birth itself and so sometimes we end up filling in the blanks with information that isn’t actually there. But today, we’re going to do the exact opposite. We’re going to focus on what is actually written in the text. On a Christmas Day on the Lord’s Day, I want to be sure we’re reading what God’s word actually says about the birth of God’s son.

My full name is James Stuart Turner Rennie. It's quite a moniker to attach to a little baby! The Stuart part is from my Dad’s Scottish roots. The Turner part is from my mother’s English family roots. 

The James part is my Dad’s first name so I was named after him. James is a biblical name. He was the Lord’s brother. James comes from the name Jacob in the Old Testament. So many Bible names have a good meaning, but James or Jacob does not. It means deceiver or trickster, and as you may remember, that is what Jacob was. He tricked his father to give him the inheritance and then he tricked his brother to sell his birthright. My name reminds me of that old nature in me that can lie and cheat and steal just like Jacob. 

But I am so thankful that I got another part to my name: Rennie. Rennie comes from the French, Rene, and it means born again. So, you see my name is the story of my life. James the sinner is also Rennie, the one born again. That’s me, a sinner born again. 

Today we will look at yet another prophetic reference to the birth of Christ in the book of Isaiah, and it is about four amazing names of our Saviour.

On August 5, 2010, the collapse of a mine in San Jose, Chile trapped thirty-three workers 700-meters underground. For seventeen dark days they survived on tiny rations of food and dirty water. Finally, a 4.5” hole appeared in the wall. The attempt to reach the cave by workers above had worked and, through this tiny shaft the miners were supplied with food, water, communication, and hope. Obviously, a bigger hole was needed to escape, and this took time. But finally, on October 13, after weeks of non-stop drilling, all thirty-three men tasted fresh air for the first time in over two months.

In the initial days underground, I’m confident those miners were asking specific questions. First, who’s coming to help us?Second, what’re they bringing when they come? And, third, when’s it going to happen?

The same questions were being asked by God’s people during the ministry of Isaiah the prophet. Israel wasn’t surrounded by walls of rock but they were surrounded by walls of Assyrian troops—soldiers of one of the most vicious, wicked superpowers ever to exist. They felt trapped, abandoned, powerless, and hopeless. So, in their desperation, they ask Who’s coming to help? What’s he bringing when he comes? And, when’s it going to happen? Isaiah 11 records God’s answers to those questions.

C. S. Lewis once wrote, “There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.” Do you share his optimism? Do you believe, as a Christian, that your future is immeasurably greater than even your most precious experiences so far? I hope you do because this is one of the privileges that Christ offers his children: beauty and glory ahead.

But western Christians today can struggle with this sanctified anticipation because life is pretty good. We have full bellies, warm backs, and dry beds. Some of us may think, “If Jesus wanted to come back today, that would be fine. But if he decided to wait, that’s okay too.” Many have lost the urgency of looking ahead for things promised.

The Christmas season provides an opportunity to excise our anticipatory muscles as we imagine waiting for the first coming of Christ. And, while we do that, we also get to stoke the flames of our expectation for his second coming, that for which we still wait today.

A Christmas Carol is the story of a mean, selfish old man named Ebenezer Scrooge who is visited by a series of ghosts come to show him how his behaviour has affected others. At one point of this supernatural education, Scrooge is led to the home of his ill-treated employee, Bob Cratchit, and, looking through the front window, observes something powerful and foreign. He sees a family marked by contentment and generosity in spite of poverty, by joy and love in spite of hardship. Looking through that window, Scrooge sees what a family can and should look like. 

The closing verses of Colossians have a similar tone. As Paul extends his greetings and says his farewells, it’s as though readers are being brought to the front window of his ministry, looking in on a snapshot of the life he enjoyed. And as believers peer inside they see what a family can and should look like, that is, a church family.

Scripture is full of individuals who, when faced with a God-given task, immediately felt ill-equipped and insecure, sure that the Almighty had chosen the wrong person of the job. For example, consider Abraham and Sarah (Gen 17:17), Moses (Ex 3:11), Gideon (Jdg 6:15), Jeremiah (Jer 1:6), Mary (Luke 1:34), and Paul (1 Cor 15:9). These were real people wanting to serve a real God who had given them real assignments in the real world but were faced with real uncertainty because of real deficiencies.

Most Christians today can relate with these characters in the face of our God-given task to “make disciples of all nations” (Matt 28:18–20). That’s a huge and potentially overwhelming calling, one that leaves many believers wondering how to even get started, if they’re even capable of contributing, and if they have anything of significance to offer. It’s into this uncertainty that the Holy Spirit speaks clarity and reassurance through Paul’s pen.

Jesus is the absolute and incomparable Christ who preexisted all (Col 1:17), created all (1:16), is over all (1:15; 2:10), sustains all (1:17), and owns all (1:16). All the fullness of divinity dwells in him (1:19; 2:9), all things are being reconciled to him (1:20), and all the treasures of wisdom are hidden with him (2:3). Jesus is everything and, because of that, believers lack nothing. By virtue of our relationship with Christ we have access to all spiritual understanding (1:9), enjoy all assurance (2:2), can please him in all ways (1:10), are strengthened with all power and all steadfastness (1:11), forgiven of all transgressions (2:13), united to all the body (2:19), and are freed from all that is perishing (2:22).

But how do these lofty realities affect the daily life of a Christian? What practical difference do they make? In 3:18–4:1, Paul shifts from the extraordinary to the ultra-ordinary, from the heavens to the home, and explains how it is that the fullness of Christ changes family life.

This morning we are going to look at Psalm 47. This psalm has been categorized by some as one of several “psalms of the Lord’s kingship” or “enthronement psalms”; that is, it specifically deals with the acknowledgement of God as King.

One of the things I find particularly interesting about this one is that, while the majority emphasizes God’s universal reign as king over all the earth, there’s a little segment in the middle that is focussed more on Israel, and what God has done and will do for them, which adds a neat twist for us as New Testament believers.

Ultimately my hope for today is that as we spend time reading and learning more about the God we worship—his identity, his kingship, who he is and what he’s done—that in turn we will better understand what it means to worship him, properly, as the King of all the earth.