Wilderness Wanderings

Meanwhile, the people were waiting for Zechariah and wondering why he stayed so long in the temple. When he came out, he could not speak to them. They realized he had seen a vision in the temple, for he kept making signs to them but remained unable to speak. When his time of service was completed, he returned home. After this his wife Elizabeth became pregnant and for five months remained in seclusion. "The Lord has done this for me," she said. "In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people." (Luke 1:21-25)

The people begin to get restless, realizing that the old priest is taking longer than usual. Is something wrong? Should someone go in and check on him? Is that even allowed?

The people were waiting for Zechariah, because he was supposed to come back out to them at the end of this worship service and bless them. So: where was he? Why hadn't he come? Everyone knows the blessing is the most meaningful part of the whole service for those worshiping: it's one of those places where God's grace is given and spoken directly to us.

When Zechariah eventually did emerge, however, he had no blessing to give. He could not "say to the Israelites" the blessing that God had commanded the priests to say: he couldn't say anything! He was lifting his hands, but not in blessing. What was the old man up to?

It was not angry signs that he made with his hands: there must have been something on his face and the way that he gestured that communicated some strange mix of awestruck joy. The people clued in immediately: even though Zechariah could not use his words to tell them he had seen a vision, the people understood it all the same.

And even though Zechariah could not bless the people, I wonder if they weren't more profoundly blessed that day than they had been in a long time. Because here, before them, stood living proof that God had shown up among them that day. Living proof that not only could God act in their lives: but he had! Right there! They may not have known what exactly it was God was up to because, well, Zechariah just couldn't say, but they knew that God had somehow acted to silence the old priest. And in Zechariah's silence: God's own word spoke volumes. "Behold: I am with you" that silence must have said.

As Zechariah returned home, the journey remained silent. No one would know for quite some time what God had announced to the old priest in the temple that day. Elizabeth did indeed conceive, but kept to herself in seclusion for a few months, probably to weigh out if she could really take this pregnancy to be real and true and lasting and believe that God had indeed given her such a gift and enabled her to carry that gift to term and birth that gift to life.

In the silence of Zechariah's loss of speech, I'm sure those two did a lot of smiling. Slowly Elizabeth's trust and hope grew. "The Lord has done this for me," she finally whispered one day.

The Lord's blessing comes to Elizabeth and to his people in such delightfully unexpected ways. And, I think that's actually more often how God's blessing comes: unexpectedly.

Have you ever experienced God's blessing in an unexpected place or way? Take that memory out again today, turn it around and savour it in a few moments of your own silence before God.

Though you walk in darkness, may you see the great light. Though you live in a land of deep shadows—may you see light! sunbursts of light! May God increase your life, expand your joy. May you be glad in his presence! May God give you the joy of a great celebration, sharing rich gifts and warm greetings (cf. Isaiah 9:2-3 MSG).

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is Luke 9:28-36 & Acts 1:6-8. 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

1. Who are you? How much time do you wonder about this question. What factors are involved in shaping your self-identity?
2. How has the doctrine of the incarnation impact your self-identity? How should it?
3. What is the prophetic office? How does the story of Jesus' transfiguration shape our understanding of it? What were the disciples not hearing? Are you willing to hear this call of the gospel?

Zechariah asked the angel, "How can I be sure of this? I am an old man, and my wife is well along in years." The angel said to him, "I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news. And now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens, because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their appointed time" (Luke 1:18-20).

There is something marvellous about how Luke tells this story. Clearly, these are extremely significant events. God sends out his angels to ensure that we understand just how crucial these things are. Yet, it is also clear that, despite the lack of human cooperation, God is enjoying himself. It is good for our faith to know this.

Preachers tend to be hard on doubters like Zechariah and Thomas. But the truth is, many, if not most, of us Christians have found ourselves in a spiritual place like Zechariah's. Let's consider his life for a moment. He and Elizabeth are introduced as righteous, observing the Lord's commands and decrees blamelessly.

Let's not be cynical about this description but read it considering Psalm 42, "My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. Where can I go and meet with God?" (2). Through the long years of their lives, they had desired to be faithful to God. As a priest, Zechariah would have counselled many in the ways of righteousness and encouraged the faith of many doubters.

Often, this couple would have prayed that God fulfill that essential creational and covenantal blessing of human fruitfulness. One can imagine, as so often happens in our own lives, these prayers, once fervent, had become listless. Prayers, once uttered in expectant faith, were now shrouded in doubt. Zechariah means "the Lord remembers", Elizabeth, "my God is an absolutely faithful God." But, as month after month went by with always the same disappointment, it was difficult to remember.

Sure, Sarai was ancient when she had conceived. But in those days, God was in the habit of dropping in for afternoon tea. And now, well, no one had heard from him in about 400 years. Things are different.

Isn't that how we end up in doubt as well? What have you prayed for month after month, year after year? Some of you for a child. Others for the return of one. Or for a job that is meaningful? Financial security? Peace in your home? At first, we thirst for God. But as his silence stretches through the years, our faith, like an elastic band either stretches till it breaks or becomes old and brittle with no stretch at all. We doubt. And our ears cannot hear God. We certainly do not expect anything from him anymore.

We understand Zechariah. And this is where God gets cheeky. When the old priest says, "I am an old man", the angel replies, "I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God. My "I" trumps your "I" old man. And then (I paraphrase), "You appear to need some time to 'remember that God is faithful'. Your voice will be silent, so you can hear God's."

Sure, there is rebuke in what Gabriel says. But also humour and irony, and the gospel. Despite Zechariah's doubt, God's plan will carry on. Be silent and think on it. Just be quiet for awhile and watch God work.

As Advent begins, Gabriel speaks, challenging the cynicism and despair under our mask of piety with the bold assertion that no matter how dry and barren our world (or our soul) may feel today, salvation is in the works.

Zechariah was old and full of doubts, yet God used him. This priest no longer expected a blessing from God, let alone salvation for Israel. With a twinkle in his eye, the Lord says, 'Watch me!' To those of us who struggle with doubt, Gabriel says, God will have his way ... and it will be good and full of joy. Thus,

Though you walk in darkness, may you see the great light. Though you live in a land of deep shadows—may you see light! sunbursts of light! May God increase your life, expand your joy. May you be glad in his presence! May God give you the joy of a great celebration, sharing rich gifts and warm greetings (cf. Isaiah 9:2-3 MSG).

When Zechariah saw him, he was startled and was gripped with fear. But the angel said to him: "Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John. He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He is never to take wine or other fermented drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even before he is born. He will bring back many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous—to make ready a people prepared for the Lord." (Luke 1:12-17)

An ordinary day at the temple worship service. Folks are going through the motions of talking to God, like they usually do. Usually: nothing much happens. No one really expects anything to happen. Or if they do, they expect it to come slowly through small and subtle shifts.

Over long years of ordinary faithfulness: how many prayers had been prayed here at this Temple? Over those same long, ordinary years of faithfulness, how many prayers had Zechariah prayed? Even without many high expectations or mountaintop experiences of answered prayer: they all kept praying anyway. Kept talking with God. Kept asking, seeking, and knocking. Prayers, like incense, continued to rise to heaven.

They asked for small, ordinary personal things like daily bread, a good day at work, the words to say the next time they met their neighbour. They asked for hard, intimate things like healing, reconciliation within their divided families, for children who had walked away from the faith, or for new life to come out of barrenness and death. Sometimes they asked for the really big things too: for God to save their people, their country, their land. Their prayers, like incense, continued to rise to heaven.

Usually: nothing much happens aside from the slow, small, and patient work of God. But on this rare day, something big really did. The angel appeared next to the alter of incense, that embodiment of the prayers of God's people, assured this frightened old man who suddenly stood in the presence of glory that he was ok, and then spoke incredible words. "Your prayer has been heard," the angel said.

The small personal prayers had been heard for joy and delight to enter into their small and ordinary days. The hard prayers had been heard for life being birthed out of barrenness, and for reconciliation in families, and for wayward children to come home to God. Even the really big prayers of turning the nation back to it's Lord and God had been heard.

God would answer all these prayers in the gift of John, whose name means "gift" or "grace of God". A small baby to be born into Zechariah and Elizabeth's small and homely family. A small dose of healing and redemption to be injected into the hardened and hopeless hearts of Israel. It would not be complete healing or redemption. But, the many prayers of God's people and even particularly of old Zechariah, had been heard. The grace of God was coming, and with it, rejoicing.

It doesn't always seem like our prayers are heard, but every now and then the thin veneer separating earth and heaven is pealed back and we remember that in big ways or small, through slow means or sudden: the grace of God is still at work.

So, as Pastor Michael encouraged yesterday, so I encourage you again today: as you go about the ordinary events of the day—accompany them with prayer. Let those prayers rise like incense. And keep your eyes expectantly peeled, because God's gifts of grace still pop up in unexpected places bringing joy and delight today.

Though you walk in darkness, may you see the great light. Though you live in a land of deep shadows—may you see light! sunbursts of light! May God increase your life, expand your joy. May you be glad in his presence! May God give you the joy of a great celebration, sharing rich gifts and warm greetings (cf. Isaiah 9:2-3 MSG).

Once when Zechariah's division was on duty and he was serving as priest before God, he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to go into the temple of the Lord and burn incense. And when the time for the burning of incense came, all the assembled worshipers were praying outside. Then an angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense (Luke 1:8-11).

There had been many ordinary priestly days for Zechariah. Twice each year he travelled to the temple to fulfill his duties as a priest before God, a week each time. How many years had it been? How many trips had he made? He had lost count. Every day was ordinary.

In those days, Israel had priests a plenty. So many in fact, that some never got to do that one thing all those ordinary priests wanted to do. Three times each day, the Israelites gathered in the temple courts to pray. The first and third were accompanied with the morning and afternoon incense-offering. A priest would be chosen by lot for each occasion; you could only be chosen once. There were so many priests that some never got chosen. Some died, never having poured the incense on the altar fire.

On this day, which began with ordinary priestly duties, Zechariah was chosen to pour the incense on the altar. Finally, after all these years, God had chosen him. This was the most important moment in his life. The other priests helped him prepare the spice and bring it into the holy place. Then, once the others had retreated leaving him alone and the temple president had given the single, Zechariah poured the incense.

Outside, the praying people waited. When they saw the white smoke from the incense rising up to God, they bowed down, spread out their hands in silent prayer and for three holy minutes there was silence in the centre of this bustling city. And the people waited. They waited for the chosen priest to come out and bless them for the night. They waited. They got restless…he wasn't coming, something was a miss.

If only they had known. For Zechariah, the ordinary was no longer. God had come. This old priest tarried long because inside the temple an angel stood between the altar and the candlesticks.

This is how the story of Christ's birth begins. In the days when Herod, the godless, was king, Israel's God, her true king, shows up. He briefly interrupted the very ordinary events of Jewish life. While the people were doing what they did every day, twice a day, God's angel appears. God still had need of old Zechariah. It is time for salvation, and God needs Zechariah.

While our visits from God may not be as dramatic as Zechariah's, they are just as personal. The acts of our piety may have become empty rituals. We may be filled with cynicism and despair, not at all convinced that God cares. Luke boldly asserts no matter how dry and barren our world (or our soul) may feel today, salvation is in the works.

Death comes into our lives in many forms. Today's text offers us the hope of the gospel. There was nothing unusual about that day when God showed up. Zechariah, the other priests, and the whole crowd gathered outside were doing very ordinary things when the angel appeared. This text invites us to open our eyes, to look up, to expect God to come with the words of life.

Today (or tomorrow) as you go about the ordinary events of the day, accompany them with prayer. Let them rise like the white smoke from the altar of incense. And live with expectation. God is still in the business of showing up. He is still working out his salvation. Watch for it.

Though you walk in darkness, may you see the great light. Though you live in a land of deep shadows—may you see light! sunbursts of light! May God increase your life, expand your joy. May you be glad in his presence! May God give you the joy of a great celebration, sharing rich gifts and warm greetings (cf. Isaiah 9:2-3 MSG).

In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly division of Abijah; his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. Both of them were righteous in the sight of God, observing all the Lord's commands and decrees blamelessly. But they were childless because Elizabeth was not able to conceive, and they were both very old. (Luke 1:5-7)

One of the most significant threads of Old Testament Israel gets picked up here by Luke in the opening verses of his Gospel. It is an early and important indication of why Jesus came. And, perhaps surprisingly: it isn't about sin. It's about death.

When we think of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, we think of salvation from sin. But the Gospel is bigger and richer than that. Throughout the Old Testament, and especially through the early books, the major threat is not sin, but death and bareness.

The Creational blessing and command given by God to humanity in Genesis 1 is "Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it." This Creational, life-generating fruitfulness that humanity has been entrusted with is immediately placed under threat.

Adam and Eve are not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil because if they do, they will die, and indeed death becomes their punishment. Through them, death becomes a threat to the command and design of Creation: not only for human life, but for plant and animal life as well. The ground is cursed. Animals die to make skins for the man and woman who now know they are naked.

Death remains a threat throughout the Old Testament account. God promises Abraham that he will make him fruitful and multiply his descendants until they become a great nation. It's a promise of Creation's intent, fulfilled. But again, death looms over the story. Sarah is barren, and both of them are very old.

The same goes for Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Rachel, Joseph, the Israelites under the threat of Pharoah, and Israel again under the threat of the wilderness after their liberation. Constantly again and again death hangs over the stories of the Old Testament, reminding us that if it were not for the grace of God intervening in promise, redemption, and life: death would surely be our end.

There's another thread here too, though. In some of the wisdom books of the Old Testament, like Proverbs, there is a cut and dried ethic: if you're righteous, you'll be blessed. If you're wicked, you'll be cursed. But it's not always so cut and dried, is it? (as other wisdom books, like Job and Ecclesiastes, recognize). Because what about the Zechariahs and Elizabeths of the world? They were both upright and righteous people: so why had they not been blessed? Why were they not fruitful?

Our story is set right smack in the middle of these Old Testament troubles: death looms over righteous people who did everything right. They long for the life and blessing from the Lord they were Created to have and to bring. It's not a question of sin: they are blameless. It's about death. Death has come for them anyway: stealing away their fertility and their youth.

I can think of so many of our own stories that death looms over in just this way, undeserved. Miscarriages, infertility, separations, illness, accidents, addictions, and death itself as loved ones are taken from us. Before we can rejoice, first Luke invites us to sit in the ash heap with the Old Testament people of God and cry out with them: How long, O Lord? How long?

Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed down to us by those who from the first were eyewitnesses and servants of the word. With this in mind, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, I too decided to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught (Luke 1:1-4).

It is Advent: the season when we Christians look back at Jesus first coming to increase our longing for Christ's return. Here at Wilderness Wonderings, we have chosen to spend this season in Luke's account of Jesus' birth. If you want to read ahead, we will finish just prior to his circumcision.

So today, we get to enjoy Luke's introduction. At first glance, you may not have found these words worthy of a devotional. Let me attempt to change your mind.

Even though we have only circumstantial evidence (and not much at that), let us assume that Luke wrote this gospel. Like him, I have done my research. This introduction mimics those written by people who had a track record of offering reliable information. Luke had taken the time to read manuscripts already written about Jesus and to listen to and interview those who had spent significant time with him.

It was time for such an account because many of the eyewitnesses were dying. The events of Jesus' ministry were receding into history. Also, Jerusalem had been destroyed by the Romans. With its destruction, the Jewish nation was no more. Further, despite Judaism's demise, persecution against Christians, and Jesus not returning as expected, the church was flourishing. Having begun as a Jewish sect, she was now comprised increasingly of Gentiles.

All of this needed an explanation, a story. There were questions that needed answering. And Luke meant to provide them. He writes to Theophilus. Again, we do not know who this is. The name means: friend of God. Common consensus is that he was not a Jew; he was of Gentile birth, but he was a God-fearer (think of Simon who carried Jesus' cross and the Ethiopian whom Philip baptized).

So, we have a convert to Judaism who became a follower of Jesus. Then he saw Israel destroyed. Jesus had said he was coming back, but he wasn't back. Theophilus has a right to be a bit confused and concerned that he has been hoodwinked. But if it is all true, then how is he to live in this mess? To reassure folks asking such questions, Luke writes.

Just as a horror film will have eerie music in the background to identify the nature of the scene, so this preface tells us what kind of story we are reading—an authentic portrait of Jesus. Luke constructs a grand doorway into his gospel. He invites us to come in and make ourselves at home. Here we will find security, a solid basis for lasting faith. This is our Jesus, this is our story, and it is not over yet.

And in answer to the question, how shall we live in this story, how does being part of this story shape our lives, Luke answers, "with joy." The angels that appear in the story tell us that Jesus came to bring joy, and Mary sings, 'my spirit rejoices'.

So, we invite you to make yourself at home in Luke 1:1-2:20, so that our hearts may be rekindled with the joy of the Lord.

Though you walk in darkness, may you see the great light. Though you live in a land of deep shadows—may you see light! sunbursts of light! May God increase your life, expand your joy. May you be glad in his presence! May God give you the joy of a great celebration, sharing rich gifts and warm greetings (cf. Isaiah 9:2-3 MSG).

An extended Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The texts come from Isaiah 61, John 1:14, and Luke 4:16-21, all 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 stands out to you from hearing these verses? Is God offering an invitation or a challenge to you through those words? Take time to pray about it.

2. What does the "Incarnation" of Christ mean?

3. What does the metaphor of a dance tell us about the relationship between our Identity in Christ and our Calling as Christians?

4. What pictures of the Kingdom of Heaven are we given in Isaiah and from other promises in the Bible? What might that look like in Hamilton? What about in your life and family?

5. How does the Isaiah picture of the Kingdom of Heaven come through Jesus?

6. How does the Isaiah picture of the Kingdom of Heaven as Jesus lived it now come through our lives and living as we follow Jesus? How might the kingdom come through your life this week?

Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows, and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work (Ephesians 4:14-16).

Next week, we turn to the gospel of Luke to begin our Advent reflections. Before we leave Ephesians, let's consider the image of the body Paul regularly uses to stimulate our imagination regarding the church. There are several things that are worth pondering.

First, the image conveys the intimacy that exists between Christ and those who believe in him. There is nothing here about a distant king ruling and taxing and profiting from his subjects. Rather, Christ, as head of his church, provides all the resources we need for life and faith. He provides all the gifts required for life as a Christian community. Its as if Jesus provides the gifts as they are needed. This body imagery suggests that Jesus provides everything his church needs to grow to maturity in him, looking increasingly like him.

Second, the body imagery suggests that we are joined together. As human bodies function organically as a unit, so does the church. Every organization needs structure, so does a congregation and denomination. These structures can help the church function well. Yet, a community growing up into Christ her head, will function beyond the structure. The assumption is that fellow believers walk with each other, so they do not wait for the structure to tell them when to help each other. Christians share in each others pains and celebrate with each other's joys.

Third, each person has the responsibility within the body to fulfill their calling, "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" (4:2-3). Christians move towards each other, not away from each other. We are to exercise the gifts the Spirit has given us for the sake of the church. We must recovery this profound sense of calling which God has placed upon his church, upon each of us, without it, we will diminish and fade.

Fourth, we are to understand every congregation as a place of progression, a community that is growing up. When our children were young, the doctor regularly checked their height and weight. The expectation was that these would increase. If not, there was something a miss. The same is true for the church. We must mature. This happens as each Christian activity participates drawing on the sustenance Christ provides. Christians are attached to Christ by faith; as they grow, they are more closely brought into relation with him and into conformity with his character and his will.

Finally, everything done in the body is done in the context of love. Having stated that Christ's laying down his life for us is love, John writes, "If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth" (1 John 3:17-18). Love demands sacrifice. As a church matures, the level of sacrifice for each other increases. Can you say that about your Christian community?

Once again, it must be noted that the main challenger to love is our own ego. Feelings of inferiority and arrogance, of envy and greed, of prejudice and defensiveness, of intolerance and abuse all originate in the ego. As William Temple noted, pride is always the root of spiritual failure. The solution is God's grace, for grace tells us we are loved unconditionally, now and always; there is nothing for us to prove or to clean up. Thus, grace prevents the ego from inflating its own significance. All that matters is the grace of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:20-21).

…to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up 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. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. (Ephesians 4:12-14)

What does growing up to maturity require of us? Nothing we weren't firstly given!

Eugene Peterson, across his various writings, is fond of drawing the parallels between growing up in the Christian life and growing up as a human. Paul seems to appreciate the analogy as well. As humans, all of us start in infancy, and for infants, everything is purely a gift. Did they choose to be born or do anything to accomplish it? No. This life and birth are given to them. As are food, shelter, clothing, cleaning, nurture, and relationship. Each of us, when born, are merely the receiver of gifts. This is where our life begins. Months and even years of receiving gifts precede any intelligible response from us through language and appropriate action. All of these things must be learned, and they are learned through the gifts we receive. We are smiled at before we learn to smile. We are spoken into before we learn to respond with speech. We are recipients before we learn to be helpers or givers.

So it is in the Christian life. To grow up from defenceless infancy into "the fullness of Christ" requires an inordinate amount of gifts to be poured into our lives. Thankfully—Christ, the one who ascended to fill the whole universe with his rule and reign, has just such an infinite stockpile of gifts to give. He pours his speech—his word and his life on earth as the Word—into our lives. He also pours his Spirit into us with a diversity of gifts, all of which are necessary to the growing up of the community of faith from infancy into a mature body of Christ.

While growing up from infancy does transform us from defenceless to defended—it does not transform us from dependant to independent. Independence may be a cultural value of North America in the 21st century—but it has little value in the Christian life. Growing from infancy transforms us from dependence to "interdependence," a dependence on God and one another that comes even as we ourselves are depended upon. Just like living stones built into a spiritual house that each rest on and support one another—so each gift and each individual person is necessary to the support, growth, and flourishing of all the others. In fact, this interdependence is the mature body's strength and protection against the wind and waves of a tumultuous world and the immature scheming of others.

At this point, Eugene Peterson draws our attention back to verse 1 of this chapter, where Paul exhorts us to "live a life worthy of the calling you have received." "Worthy" is a word picture in the Greek that envisions an ancient weighing scale with two baskets suspended on either end of a beam and a fulcrum in the middle. Set in one basket of the weighing scale is the calling to which we have been called by God. In the other basket is the way we live that calling in our daily lives. To live worthily implies a congruence, a balance between the calling and the living.

Gifts are the means by which Christ equips his people to develop such a mature and worthy balance between his call and our living. But it does require that we take up those gifts and use them lovingly and responsibly in service of one another. The calling gives us the direction, the gift enables, and the living use of these gifts toward this calling is how we practice the adult life of maturity in Christ.

What again was that calling? "…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" (4:4b-6). We are called together to be the one, mature, interdependent body of Christ, united in our diversity. It is a work we cannot do alone. But in Christ, this is also the fullness of what we already are. It is his gift, and our goal. A work that necessarily draws us together with all the saints.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:20-21)