Month: February 2021

Philip went to look for Nathanael and told him, “We have found the very person Moses and the prophets wrote about! His name is Jesus, the son of Joseph from Nazareth.”  “Nazareth!” exclaimed Nathanael. “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” John 1:45-46

God made us to learn wisdom from making conclusions based on solid facts. But limited facts can lead to unfounded generalizations. If I fall three out of five times when climbing a ladder, I might conclude that climbing a ladder is dangerous. (Not always.)  If every snake I’ve ever encountered has been a garden snake, I might conclude that all snakes are friendly. (Not true.)  Sometimes our conclusions are flawed, especially when we make them about people and people groups.  If I meet several members of one family and they are all rude, I shouldn’t conclude that the rest of them are contentious.  

I’m from upstate New York by birth but for the past twenty years, we’ve made our home near Atlanta, Georgia.  We love it here and will probably spend the rest of our lives here unless God has other plans. While living here however, I’ve heard countless generalizations that northerners are rude.  Why?  Generalizations were made from a handful of unfortunate encounters and all northerners have been cast in a poor light.  I can assure you that the New England people are warm and caring.  I grew up there – in a town of a thousand people. 

Nathanael spoke disparagingly of Nazareth, not believing that any good man, much less the Messiah, could come from such a place.  

Galilee was a despised region in the eyes of the more polished Palestinians of the South. The Galileans were accused of being rude, illiterate, and devoid of culture. Their pronunciation was said to be so thick that it led constantly to mortifying blunders, as when one could not tell from the word used whether a Galilean peasant had come to the market for an ass (khamor), wine (khemer), sheepskin (immer), or wool (‘immar). It was not to Galilee that the Judaean would naturally have looked for a great theological teacher.                                                                                 S.S. Times Biblical Illustrator

Why would God give Jesus a childhood in this disrespected setting?  Why set him back with the people of Palestine?  All the reasons are not known but this I do know ~ God looks with favor upon the humble and, more often than not, chooses this person for His most important work.  God chose a nation of slaves to be His family, not those from great pedigree.  God called the forgotten son of Jesse to be Israel’s greatest king.  God chooses the low and despised, the forgotten, the unqualified.  And from this place called Nazareth, a place that earned such little respect, came our Teacher, the very Son of God.  Can anything good from Nazareth?  Yes.  Our King of Kings.

Forgive me when I disqualify myself from Your favor based on self-evaluation. I forget who it is that loves me and called me out of obscurity.  Thank you.  Amen 

John testified, “I saw the Holy Spirit descending like a dove from heaven and resting upon him.  I didn’t know he was the one, but when God sent me to baptize with water, he told me, ‘The one on whom you see the Spirit descend and rest is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ John 1:32-33 NLT

When John baptized Jesus, the man who wore sackcloth and feasted on locusts and honey was breathless with wonder.  He lowered the Lamb of God beneath the surface of the river Jordan.  I can imagine that time stood still as this holy act unfolded in slow motion.  Jesus was submerged, and then a dove descended and rested on Him.  While this only lasted for a moment, neither was ever the same again.  This was confirmed as the heavens opened and God spoke words of blessing over His Son. 

John made it clear that though he baptized Jesus with water, it was a precursor to an even more stunning event. This Messiah would one day baptize His disciples with the Holy Spirit. This one event in the Jordan was loaded with prophetic overtones. As John poured water over the head of the Lamb of God, Jesus would pour the fullness of the Holy Spirit over each new convert. With the Spirit, He would seal them until the day of redemption.  What if we could have seen and heard this event at our moment of belief.  “I have called you and you are mine,” Jesus might have said.  Perhaps it unfolded in slow motion, like His own baptism.  One thing I know; my spirit was energized from something dead to something living.  This anointing of the Spirit of God accomplished its purpose.  I was blessed to live and serve in the power of the Messiah just as Jesus was blessed to live and serve in the power of the Spirit.  

Jesus left the holy place in the Jordan and entered the wilderness of temptation, testing, and faith building.  I left the holy place of my moment of conversion and entered the wilderness of life too. Daily, I am tempted. Daily, I am tested. Daily, I have opportunities for faith building. But unlike Jesus, I often doubt the love of the One who anointed me.  No matter how often I faint, the Spirit still offers to fill me with Himself. He sustains my faith.  Though it may flicker for moment but it is never extinguished. My spirit, even at this moment, feels the impact of these moment-by-moment encounters.   

My own baptism of Your Spirit was no less beautiful, no less miraculous, than the one You experienced as the waters of the Jordan washed over Your head. Jesus, Your Spirit still speaks words of love over me every single day. The anointing lives on. I am strengthened. Amen

Right here in the crowd is someone you do not recognize. Though his ministry follows mine, I’m not even worthy to be his slave and untie the straps of his sandal.”  John 1:26-17 NLT

John said, ‘I’m not even worthy to be [the Messiah’s] slave.’  Unworthiness has so many faces.  Only one is righteous, the others are not.   Yet, for any of us who have suffered with toxic unworthiness, we can agree that it feels like a holy thing.  Satan makes sure of that.  

Isaac Watts wrote the words, ‘For such a worm as I” when he composed the hymn, At The Cross.  Was he celebrating the glory of Christ as he penned them or was he consumed by his own unworthiness?  Reading the rest of the lyrics reveals that it was the first. 

Shame is supposed to be healed in the arms of a great Savior.  Perfect love melts all guilt and shame and if we were to see Jesus today and bask in the affection of His beating heart, we would be immersed in joy. I don’t believe unworthiness would have the last word. 

Satan is out to destroy the joy of our salvation.  If he can’t keep us from believing and following Jesus, then he’ll keep us from the fuel that will give us our joy.  God’s love.  He’ll twist scriptures to cause us to believe that we didn’t deserve to be chosen.  And, we didn’t deserve to be forgiven even more!  Unworthiness leads to self-hatred.  Any of us who have knelt at the feet of Jesus, never feeling like we could raise our heads out of the dirt, missed the joy of basking in the eyes of Love. 

What about yesterday’s mistakes?  What about yesterday’s sin?  Don’t these disqualify and prove unworthiness?  Not in heaven’s economy.  Love confers unconditional affection.  Love paid the price for the sin that God has already put out of sight.  Love lifts our head out of the dirt.  Love grants new mercies every morning.  Love celebrates the future.  Love does not remind us of unworthiness.  Our worship does that but it’s fleeting because it’s all in the context of celebration.  What does humility mixed with joyful confidence sound like?

Lord, you are so great, so holy.  I am sinful but oh, I am loved.  I am unworthy, yes, but You made me worthy.  I’m a dancer, not a wallower.  Amen

John replied in the words of the prophet Isaiah: “I am the voice shouting in the wilderness, ‘Clear the way for the Lord’s coming!'” John 1:23 NLT

If a stranger says, ‘Tell me about yourself.’ I might answer, “I am a mother, wife, author, musician, and director of a women’s ministry?”

But what might my reply be if I was interrogated in a hostile setting. “Who do you think you are!” Would I scramble to list my credentials, putting to rest any insinuations that I was somehow unqualified? And would bragging add weight to my credibility? Probably not. In fact, it could backfire.

John the Baptist was a priest from the line of Aaron. Strong credentials! Yet, when the priests and Levites from Jerusalem investigated him ~ the equivalent of an inquisition by the Vatican ~ he stuns us with his answer. The question was posed. “Who are you?” But the one who did have impressive credentials divested himself of them all for a bigger purpose. He revealed that he was simply a voice to prepare people to see Jesus. John didn’t say, “I am one teaching” or “I am one telling.” He described his delivery as shouting or crying. It’s impossible to cry out publicly without passion, without intensity.

I ask myself if I ever talk about Jesus void of feeling. Do I teach in dry, sterile tones? Or is there a magnetic quality to my words because my heart has long been engaged from personal experience? Would heartfelt describe others’ experience of me? Does my call to others to believe, to trust God, come across as an act that will be lifesaving to them? If my faith in Christ has not been lifesaving to me, I will never speak of it in any other way but casual.

Who am I, Lord? I am a voice you are using, one who speaks with passion, one who hears your mind in the wilderness, and one whose goal it is to make the way for you straighter today than it was yesterday. Amen