Wilderness Wanderings

And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near (Hebrews 10:24-25).

Here's a tidbit of personal information. At our house, for many years we were immersed in the Harry Potter saga, both books and movies. There is a scene in the sixth movie that has, for me, been an image of the church.

Harry's guardian, mentor, friend, and father/grandfather type figure, Albus Dumbledore, has just been murdered by a trusted friend. Horror-stricken people are gathering around the fallen body. Dumbledore was the leader of those fighting against the rise of evil. Now he lies dead, at the foot of the Hogwart's walls. Thus far in the story, Hogwarts was the only truly safe place against Voldemort's encroaching evil regime. It is a scene of despair and hopelessness.

Then one of those standing around the body raises her wand in the air: the tip glows with light, as if it were a candle. It's a statement of defiance against evil. One by one others raise their glowing wands. Soon there is a small halo of light above those who will continue to resist the forces of evil. Hope is still alive. (Here's a link to the scene: Dumbledore's Farewell Scene - YouTube).

In Tuesday's devotion, I reflected on the opening words of Hebrews which introduces the grand themes about Jesus which are worked out in the rest of the book. But Hebrews can be summarized in these four words: Jesus is the greatest. The thing is though, at Christmas, Jesus is little more than a flickering candle: he lies without spectacle in a feed trough.

After his resurrection, when he returns to the glory of heaven, he leaves behind a group of disciples who have no idea what they are up against. They don't know what they are supposed to do or how to get started. They don't even really understand what Jesus was doing. Yet, they are the ones whom he leaves behind to continue his work.

Those of us who call ourselves Christians are the descendants of those first disciples. 2000 years later the church is now an international organization, and one would think she would have her act together. But truth be told, she still seems to flounder, not quite sure what she is supposed to do or how to do it.

Christmas reminds us of our humble beginnings. It also reminds us that Jesus told us to remain humble. The mission of the church is accomplished through acts of service. It was after Jesus got down on his knees to wash his disciples' feet that he told them to follow his example.

Hebrews is a heady book, picking up grand themes from the Old Testament arguing how Jesus is far superior to anything that took place back then. Its often a slog for people to get through the book. When it finally gets to the application the author simply tells us to spur one another on to good deeds and to keep meeting together.

On our own, the flickering candle of our faith and love tends to get snuffed out by the winds of evil and selfishness. But together our combined faith and love dispels the darkness, at least a bit of it. That is why that scene from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince reminds me of the church. We need each other.

As we head into another lockdown, we need each other.

On my ornament today, I am going to draw lighted candles (or wands) as a reminder that I am not alone.

For something to do: call, email or text someone to remind them that they are not alone.

The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross. (Colossians 1:15-20)

Colossians, like the text in Hebrews Pastor Michael mentioned yesterday, gives an incredible, cosmic view of Christ. He is the one who is before all things, through whom all things are reconciled to God, and in whom all things hold together. Christ is at the centre. And that makes Christ the solid and trustworthy point around whom we can orient our lives. Much like the North Star is for mariners navigating choppy seas, so Christ is the light that can help us fix our bearings.

It takes eyes of faith to see this, because life's clouds and storms continue to blot out the sky: forces and powers with names like 'cancer' and 'lockdown' cause our world to feel like it's falling apart.

I think that's why Paul reminds us that the reality of Christ as the cosmic one who holds all things together is anchored right here in the reality of this world—through the cross.

So even when the heavens are hidden from view—Jesus is for us the reminder and promise that God has dwelt with us in the mud and muck of this earth, suffering the worst of it with us, dying and rising again to new life within the concrete history of the world in which we live. He knows the powers we face, and He has defeated them through the cross.

If you're searching to be filled or to feel fulfilled, look no further—the fullness of God dwells in Christ. If you're looking for life in the midst of much that leads down paths of death, look no further—Christ is the firstborn from among the dead, the promise of new life for us also. If you need assurance that all this is not some pipe dream hidden in the clouds—look no further—this cosmic Christ is also the earthly Jesus, God with us.

Jesus Christ orients our lives and our living. He gives us the identity that fixes our bearings. And so, as in most letters Paul writes, he goes on to tell us in the letter of Colossians how this orientation point in Christ changes the rest of our journey. These then, are the words I'll leave you with, from Colossians 3:

Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:12-17)

On my ornament today, I'm going to draw a picture of the North Star shining in the sky to remind me that Jesus is the orientation point for my life. Or maybe you'll think of it as the star over Bethlehem orienting the world to Christ.

As for an Action today: I wonder if there is one invitation from the Colossians 3 passage I just read that stuck out to you that you might put into practice in your relationship with someone else today. One concrete way the Holy Spirit might be inviting you to orient your living in light of Christ.

Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high (Hebrews 1:1-3). My first Christmas as a preacher, I choose these words for a Candle light Christmas Eve service. I said some nice things about light and glory which I had learned at Seminary. I'm sure it was all true, but I had the distinct impression that my words left no impression on the congregation. I've rarely gone back to this text for preaching purposes. Probably, initially because that sermon seemed to have no glory. But in more recent years, I steer away from this text because I find it too profound. My words will continue to muddy the beauty of the scriptures. How can I convery how much God wants to communicate with his people? At many times and in many ways, it says: Adam and Eve in the garden in the cool of the day, God calls out, "Where are you?" God leads Israel out of Egypt with fire and cloud. God chisels his intentions for Israelite life on stone tablets with his own finger. God calls Israel back to himself with fire by burning up Elijah's alter. To Elijah he comes in a quiet whisper, "What are you doing here?" All of these manners of communication pale in comparison to His Son. He now speaks to us through His own Son. And this Son? What can we say about Him? This is the Son who will inherit all things. When the history of this age comes to its grand conclusion, this Son will reign over all. What can we say about this Son? This is the Son through whom God created the world. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made" (John 1). What can we say about this Son? He is the radiance of God's glory, the exact imprint of his nature. If we care to see God, all we need to do is look at this Son. What we see Jesus doing and saying in the gospel is what God does and says. What can we say about this Son? Not only will the world be his in the end, not only was the cosmos created through this Son, this Son continues to hold the universe together by his powerful Word. Because we can see the smallest details through microscopes and far away galaxies through telescopes, we tend to forget that if it wasn't for this Son, the entire universe would disintegrate. And this magnificent Son, he became flesh through the womb of the Virgin Mary. He made the journey from heaven's glory to die on a cruel cross to reconcile us to God. This Son who laid helpless in Mary's arms, who lay exhausted in a tempest tossed fishing boat, who lay dead in the tomb is now seated at the right hand of God in glory. There is a mystery hidden in all this grandeur. God speaks to us through his son, a babe. The light of the world voluntarily reduced his splendour to that of a candle. He is the radiance of the glory of God. He is the exact imprint of God's nature. He is a babe in his mothers arms, as volunerable as a flickering candle. I hardly dare write about these words. How can my words do justice to the majesty of these words? No. These are the kinds of words you take to the top of a mountain (or the roof of your house), look at the stars and mull over. These are words to which there can be only one response, to fall on our knees in amazement. On my ornament for today, I will draw a scene that brought me to my knees. And for something to do, some days, thanksgiving and awe is enough.

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. (Ephesians 4:1-6)

This series of Advent Devotions runs with the title "Immanuel, God with Us," because at Christmas we remember that God came and took on our flesh to walk in our world, our space, in the history of our time. We also look forward to the day he will come again to dwell with us face to face, on the day he makes all things new and sets all things right. That is the one hope to which we have been called. And we wait for it eagerly, especially these days.

In between those two comings though—the Christmas Day of Christ's first coming and the future Advent Day of his coming again—we still have a life to live. A race to run.

And just as Jesus took on human body as he was born a baby in Bethlehem, and just as he'll return in his resurrection body someday, so his body is still present and at work in this world in between. But in a different sense.

The body of Christ in this world right now, between those two comings—is us. The church. We are the body of Christ. The body filled with His Spirit to accomplish His kingdom purposes in this world and in our lives until, as Paul will later write in this chapter, "until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ."

So the body of Christ that is with and in this world right now, is us. We are that body. That tangible representation in the flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are the message of the Gospel, in flesh. The ambassadors of reconciliation who bring words of confession and forgiveness in the name of Jesus. The Spirit within us makes it so.

And lest we think this is all just a nice bit of fantasy or merely some illustration—remember the very first words that Paul speaks in this chapter.

"As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received." Paul had no illusions. He was in chains. In lockdown, as we are today. Of course, Paul's personal situation was a lot worse than ours. But even in our situation, we can appreciate the urgency of his plea. This isn't fun and games, it's not playing around and dreaming. This is dead serious.

In the days when you can't attend church anymore because you're locked down: you've got to live this gospel message where you are, being completely humble, gentle, patient, bearing with one another in love—especially those you're locked down with. Or those in the government who have put you there. Or those neighbours who you do still see.

It's an easy time to drift away, to fracture off, to split apart because of the intense pressures we face outside and in: but take heart! We have been united to this body of Christ—a union the Spirit brings and keeps and enables us to keep. We follow One Lord who still sets before us the one hope, that when he comes again—every bit of sin and evil will be set aside, every sorrow healed, every tear dried.

So stand firm, together with your brothers and sisters in the body of Christ. And continue to be that body in this world, even in a time of pandemic lockdown, even on the darkest day of the year—praying and living the prayer: "your will, O Father, be done. On earth as it is in heaven."

On my ornament today, I'm going to try to draw some depiction of the body of Christ, the church in the world. Not the building mind you, but the people. I'll write the words: "be the body."

And for an action, is there one concrete way that you can bear with someone else in love? Perhaps it's someone that annoys you or that you're in a fight with. Show love to them today.

It's the 4th Sunday of Advent! This then is the 4th Sermon in the series on Romans 8, "A Pregnant Creation - Working for the Good"

The text is Romans 8:28-30 from the New International Version of the Bible. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

DIVE IN QUESTIONS

1. What is your favourite part of this passage? Why? What part are you most curious about? Why?

2. What wrapped gifts await us from God? What gifts do we have already, unwrapped? Are some in between, partially unwrapped?

3. Pastor Anthony says that we sit between two great horizons: the beginning of creation and the end when the world will be made new. Where does that leave us now, and what's it like here in the middle?

4. What sort of suffering do you see in the world around you right now and in your own life? Have you caught yourself or others attempting to ignore it and move to the end where everything is fine?

5. What if Romans 8:28 says, as Pastor Anthony suggests, that "God works together with those who love him to bring about what is good"? How does that change your understanding of this passage? How does it change the way that you might engage with God in times of difficulty or sorrow?

6. How is God working with you to bring about what is good right now?

As Jesus went along, he saw a man who was blind. He had been blind since he was born. Jesus' disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned? Was this man born blind because he sinned? Or did his parents sin?" "It isn't because this man sinned," said Jesus. "It isn't because his parents sinned. He was born blind so that God's power could be shown by what's going to happen (John 9:1-3).

We are exploring together what it means that Jesus is Immanuel, "God with us." Already in the Old Testament, light is an image attached to Immanuel. John picks up this picture in his gospel and its meanings sort of explodes on the page like a light bulb given power in a dark room. Our text is one of those detonations. The disciple's understanding of the world is turned on its head.

In this story the disciples are asking the questions. "Why is this man blind? Why is he this way? Did his parents sin? Or was it he, himself?" The disciples are trying to understand the condition, meaning, and purpose of this man's life. If he is blind, if he is disabled, isn't it because he or someone has sinned? Why would he be this way if no one had sinned? Whose sin caused this man to be born blind?

In their way of looking at the world, a problem like blindness was always the direct effect of someone's sin. Today, we think such ideas are old fashioned. We are too educated for such simplicity. But just hold on. What is our gut reaction when someone is homeless or a refugee? For many of us, our first response is to ask why. To stand back and analyze the situation. And isn't that exactly what the disciples were doing? Analyzing the situation, making it fit into their worldview.

They don't see a man in need of healing, do they? They're blind to his pain. They see an example from the Theologians Case Book! This promises to be an interesting discussion.

Likewise, we try to explain what we see as unfortunate, lamentable, disadvantageous, regrettable. But in doing this we place ourselves at the centre of our questions. In such thinking, God is put in the sidelines.

In our text, Jesus flips the disciples' thinking on its head, as he so often does. How does he respond to their questions, "who sinned?" Jesus responds by shifting their focus from the blind man to God and to Himself as the Light of the World. He says to them, "Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God's works might be revealed in him." This is not just about the blind man; this is about God's work and God's plan.

Jesus intends to point us beyond the problem to the possibilities it presents. When we see an afflicted individual, we should not start with blame, but rather how can peace, comfort, and healing for this person show the glory of the God. We should be about the business of trying to bring such wholeness to him and others.

Jesus continues to rebuke his disciples when he later says, " While it is still day, we must do the works of the one who sent me. Night is coming. Then no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world." In other words, don't let your opinions deflect you from the task that God has put you here to do. How often do we analyse and dissect rather than act to bring God's light into the world? How often do we apply our theological minds to working out why something is the way it is, rather than doing what we can to right the wrongs we see?

To paraphrase Jesus, "Whoever has eyes to see, let them see!"

On your ornament, you can draw one of two things: an eye, suggesting that we need to see the world in a new light, or a light, indicating that Jesus is the light of the world, who will show us a new way to look at the world.

As for something to do: as you go about your day, ask Jesus to show you how your opinions are keeping you from bringing God's glory into other people's lives.

Jesus said, "Have the people sit down." There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down (about five thousand men were there). Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish. When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, "Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted." So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten. (John 6:10-13)

Yesterday we heard from Pastor Michael that Jesus likes asking questions. We also heard that Jesus brings his mercy with him wherever he goes. In today's text, Jesus is doing both—asking questions and bringing mercy.

In the lead up to these verses, Jesus sees crowds coming and asks Philip where they should get bread to feed them all. "It would take more than half a year's wages to buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!" Philip replies. Peter points out the five small loaves and two small fish of boy, then asks "but how far will they go among so many?"

The disciples may have had some money, and a boy had some food, but faced with such massive need, all they seemed to possess was scarcity.

That's not how Jesus saw it though. When the camera shifts to Jesus, all of a sudden the language shifts from the "small" of the disciples to the "plenty," "as much as they wanted," and "enough" of Jesus. It's a shift as stark as Kansas' black and white giving way to the colour of the merry ol' land of Oz. A desert of dusty tumbleweed scarcity is transformed to a lush, warm world of colourful possibility.

There was plenty of grass for the people to sit on. There was thanks to be given to God for his abundant provision. There was all you can eat bread and just as much fish. Not only was there enough to satisfy the hunger of all, but there were twelve full baskets leftover. In the hands of Jesus, there was a colourful world of plenty.

Surely this was the Creator of the Heavens and the Earth that had stepped into their midst. The very same God who produced manna in the desert—the what-is-it kind of provision that transforms a wasteland into a buffet table though you know not how.

And indeed, that's just the sort of image John is aiming for. At the top of the chapter he lets us know that "the Jewish Passover Festival was near." The meal of provision, of salvation, of anticipation of the heavenly wedding feast of the Messiah where there would be plenty enough for all.

It's not long after this that Jesus declares that he himself is the bread of life. Hearing that, we often think of Jesus' spiritual benefits to us. And that is a very right thing to think. But don't lose sight of the fact that the chapter begins here at the feeding of the 5,000 with Jesus' materially abundant care for the crowds. His mercy is not only spiritual, Jesus is also the God who is with us in our physical world and needs. After all, he created all this physical stuff. His mercy is as tangible as tonight's supper.

That also means that wherever there is hunger in our world—that's very much something Jesus cares for and invites his church to care for too. Because the world Jesus created and invites us to thankfully steward is a colourful world of abundance, not a tumbleweed desert of scarcity.

On my ornament for today, I tried to draw a colourful basket of bread and people on a hillside. Whatever God's colourful world of abundance might look like to you: draw it!

For a tangible activity today, make a donation large or small out of what God has given you in cash or non-perishable food items to a food bank like the one right next to our church, Neighbour 2 Neighbour! The link to their site is here in the notes!

Jesus went up to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish feasts. In Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate is a pool. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie down. One person was there who had not been able to walk for 38 years. Jesus saw him lying there. He knew that the man had been in that condition for a long time. So, he asked him, "Do you want to get well?" "Sir," the disabled man replied, "I have no one to help me into the pool when an angel stirs up the water. I try to get in, but someone else always goes down ahead of me." Then Jesus said to him, "Get up! Pick up your mat and walk." The man was healed right away. He picked up his mat and walked (cf. John 5:1-9)

Jesus loved to ask questions. Some were innocent enough, like "Will you get me some water?" as he asked the Samaritan woman in yesterday's devotion. Sometimes he used questions to get people to leave him alone, like the time he asked the Jewish establishment, "Where did John get his authority, from man or from God?" Some were meant to help his listeners probe deeper into His identity as the Son of God, like when he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" Others, like the one in our text, seems to ask the man to probe himself, but it was really a set up.

The question does seem a bit strange, but the setting helps us get a handle on it. John tells us that Jesus went up to Jerusalem, the city of peace. He went there to celebrate one of the Jewish feasts, which were always times of joy, celebrating God's great work of deliverance in the past. John doesn't specify which feast, so that is not important, but he brings us to a pool named Bethesda, which means 'house of mercy.' To recap, the setting is peace, joy, mercy.

We are expecting a happy story.

Instead, we are told that this pool is surrounded by a great number of disabled people. Jesus focusses our attention on one person who has been lying there for 38 years. That's a long time by anyone's reckoning. We might want to know about the magical nature of this pool. How is it that only the first people who touches the pool after it is stirred gets healed? Was it really an angel of the Lord who stirred the pool?

But Jesus does not oblige our curiosity. He wants us to focus on this person lying here for the past 38 years. How many times has he seen the water stirred and he has not been able to touch it because someone else was always faster? Has he given up hope? Has he given in to his condition and expects to live out his life begging for scraps from passing feast goers?

Why does Jesus ask, "Do you want to get well?"

Some suggest that Jesus wanted to know if the man had any hope left. Then Jesus would heal him. Others have suggested that Jesus wanted to expose for the man that he had become comfortable in his paralysis and did not really want to get better. The man needed to start taking responsibility for himself.

Anyone who has suffered from long term illness knows that these are real issues, but I don't think they are part of this story. The man doesn't really answer Jesus' question. He just says, "Hey man, what I want doesn't really matter. I can't get to the pool. I won't get healed."

The man's got nothing, but Jesus heals him.

His mercy is free. He comes to bring it to those who are without hope. He comes to bring it to those who don't expect it anymore.

Are you looking for God's mercy? Are you trying to figure out how to answer Jesus' question? The answer is not important, the important thing is that Jesus brings mercy where ever he goes.

On my ornament for today, I am going to simply write the word "Mercy."

As for something to do, be ready to receive mercy, especially when God brings it through an unexpected person. Is it possible that God wants to use you to bring his mercy to someone not expecting it?

Now he had to go through Samaria. So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob's well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon. When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, "Will you give me a drink?" (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.) (John 4:4-8)

We're reflecting on how Jesus came as our Immanuel, the God who is with us. Part of Jesus' coming to be among us was not just His presence here among us, but was also his total identification with our humanity. He quite literally walked in our skin, taking on our humanity as his own. He was completely God. But he was also completely Human.

That meant that before the great plan of salvation got anywhere, God first submitted it and Himself to the human responses of a mother ("may your word to me be fulfilled" Luke 1:38) and a father (Joseph "took Mary home as his wife" and "gave him the name Jesus." Matthew 1:24-25) who agreed to participate in the plan.

God's humanity also meant that God attended wedding parties and made wine, because he was a member of a family and of a community and he shared with them in the honor and joy of a feast gone well. Pastor Michael reminded us of that story yesterday.

God's humanity also meant that God got tired and thirsty. And so that very God put himself in a position where he needed someone's help: "will you give me a drink?" He had no bucket to draw water. He was in the middle of a desert and a journey through that desert. The guys with the supplies had left him there.

And so the Almighty God found Himself tired, parched, and in need of some help. From a woman, no less. And a foreign woman at that. The story that unfolds from here about the "woman at the well" has caused the church a lot of reflection on Jesus' relationship with foreigners, women, ethical outcasts, and how he himself is the living water who refreshes every one with salvation.

But it all begins with Jesus being tired from the journey, sitting down, and asking for help. All quite humble, human stuff. Indeed, "he did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage" (Philippians 2:6). And perhaps because of that lack of pretentiousness and his fullness of humanity, a conversation opens up across the lines of race, gender, and the hard stuff of broken relationships. Immanuel, our God was with us.

Pastor Michael mentioned yesterday that our participation in the Kingdom of God is about offering our generosity, yes. But it is just as much about our ability to receive humbly with joy and grace. It is both giving and receiving. An offering and a needing. Because without a healthy ability to receive, how on earth can we take joy in what God has done for us? And God does intend for us to receive his gifts with joy!

Jesus did. He, the Almighty God, was not afraid to reveal his fully human needs and limitations, nor was he averse to receiving help with joy and thanks. We are called to follow Him.

So on my ornament today, I've drawn a well in the desert with the words "Will you give me a drink?" over it. Because, sometimes we're the ones who need to ask that question, and at other times we're the ones to answer it with a cup of cold water in the name of Jesus.

As for an idea of how to live it, the reciprocal mutuality of giving and receiving is the foundation of relationships and of hospitality. Last week, our Youth Group, led by Ruth Ann, talked about hospitality as a Spiritual Discipline. Here's one of the ideas she gave: Take time to really listen to someone today—when someone is talking to you, actively listen to them and receive what they're saying. Give them your full attention and ask questions to show that you're interested. It is a way to both give and receive at the same time.

What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him (John 2:11).

This Advent, we are focussing on Immanuel. During the first week, we looked at a variety of Old Testament stories in which God showed up on this earth. These gave us hints of what would happen when Jesus finally arrived. Last week, we meant to look at the nativity stories. But we ended up spending several days immersed in John 1:14.

This week, we are going to head deeper into the gospels to see what else there is regarding the theme of Immanuel in the life of Jesus. We are not going to get far, today. Reflecting on John 1:14 got me thinking about the Wedding at Cana.

There is significant mystery in this story. There is no mention of who the happy couple are or why Jesus and his disciples and his mother are even there. There is no explanation as to why Jesus tells his mother its not his time, but then does a miracle anyway. Everything focuses on the problem and its solution.

The problem is that the wine has run out. This was simply not allowed. Hospitality was paramount in Jewish culture and a wedding with out wine…that was the worst of the worst. It would be the story of the town for generations.

But Jesus intervenes and provides an abundance of excellent wine. And I do mean an abundance. The six stone jars that are suddenly filled with wine have a combined capacity of over 700 litres.

John tells us why he included this story in his gospel. It was the first of the signs through which Jesus revealed his glory. The glory of God's kingdom revealed in an abundance of wine? "Is that wise?" you might ask.

Well yes, it is. It says two things about God's kingdom. First, it is a kingdom of plenty. Many Christians in North America wonder, if we ought to feel guilty about the abundance of wealth we possess, compared to most of the residents of this globe.

Its good to ask such a question. But the answer is that we do not need to feel guilty. Everywhere in the Bible, God's kingdom is shown to be a kingdom of plenty. Guilt should not be our reaction to our wealth. Rather, a true understanding of God's kingdom causes us to become generous. If God has plenty, then we can share what we have because God can replenish our bank accounts. That, I think, is, a least in part, what Paul communicates in 2 Corinthians 8 & 9. It's worth the read.

The second thing this story tells us about God's kingdom is that it is characterized by joy. Years ago, I was walking alongside some colleagues who were struggling with their churches. They just couldn't get on the same page as the leadership. It was painful to watch. I remember wondering if it was alright for me to be enjoying ministry so much, because I really was.

Then a retired pastor told me that it was permitted to enjoy ministry. He reminded me that the kingdom of God is one of joy. Jesus brought joy with him.

The second Sunday of Advent was about 'Joy'. I think we should write it on our ornaments again, along with abundance. Let these words fill us with longing for the fulness of God's kingdom. Many things in this life do not bring us joy, and at times they do seem overwhelming. Write joy and abundance on your ornament and look forward. Our tears will be exchanged for dancing. It is the promise of God.

As for something to do? How about sharing some of your resources with those who have less? Or maybe, when you receive a gift from someone, receive it with grace, recognizing that God is inviting you to enjoy a taste of his kingdom.