Christmas Sermon

Despite my intentions to post this Christmas-themed post before Christmas, the month of December had other plans. But here it is: the text of a sermon I preached in church earlier this month.

I wasn't sure if I'd have the bandwidth to preach or not, but I'm thankful I did. And I knew that whenever I had the chance to preach again, I'd want to focus on the core of the Gospel. And what else lends itself so perfectly to the core of the Gospel?

The Christmas story is the Gospel.

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It is the season of Advent, when we spend the weeks leading up to Christmas Day preparing our hearts and minds to celebrate Christmas. Because of that, I want to focus on the Christmas story this morning and, specifically, I want to look at how the birth of Jesus fits into the greater Gospel story.

Christmas is when we celebrate that God kept His promise to send a Savior.

Because that’s exactly what the birth of Jesus Christ is: the arrival of a Savior. And we need a Savior because we need to be saved from something: our sin.

So although we typically read and remember the story of Jesus’s birth as we know it from the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, the story of Christmas actually begins much, much earlier than that. In fact, the story of Christmas begins at the beginning of the Bible. To fully understand the birth of Jesus, we need to turn back to Genesis.

The story is familiar. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. After the work of creation, the first humans, Adam and Eve, enjoyed spending time with their Creator in the Garden of Eden. But by Genesis 3, everything changed. Adam and Eve listened to the deceptive serpent, and they sinned by disobeying God and eating fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, which God had expressly forbidden them to do, and had even warned them that if they ate from it they would surely die. But they did not heed the instruction or the warning of God.

They ate their way into death.

This story teaches us how serious sin is, and that the consequences of sin are also serious.

The punishment for Adam and Eve’s sin was multi-layered. First of all, their eyes were opened to their nakedness, which before had been a beautiful and liberating experience, but now became their first experience with shame. Then, to Eve, God said she would only give birth through great pain. To Adam, God said he would only produce food from the ground through painful toil and by battling thorns and thistles. Lastly, and worse than everything else, they were kicked out of the Garden – they were separated from God.

Not only that, but Death entered the world. And it’s been that way ever since.

The sin of Adam and Eve – and its consequences – teaches us why we need a Savior. We need a Savior because sin is such a problem. And why is sin such a problem? Because sin separates us from God and leads to our eternal death.

As the apostle Paul says in Romans 6:23, “For the wages of sin is death.” Or as James says, in a way that perfectly captures what happened in the Garden of Eden, “Each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death” (James 1:14-15).

This is why we need a Savior. Sin still separates us from our holy God, and sin still leads to eternal death.

This is a problem, an enormous problem. At the very beginning of everything, humanity lost all hope. What were Adam and Eve to do? Truly, there was nothing they could do. Even though humanity was the one to create the problem, it was not a problem they could fix. No one but God Himself could fix the problem of sin and death.

But would the God who’d been betrayed by Adam and Eve’s disobedience be willing to solve the problem? Would the only One who could do something choose to do something? The answer is yes. Yes! God Himself, who created the heavens and earth and who loved humanity deeply and fiercely, stepped in to offer a solution. He didn’t solve the problem right away, but He did provide a promise right away. And this is where the Christmas story comes in.

The first time the Christmas story is mentioned in Scripture is in Genesis 3, when God is proclaiming judgment on Adam and Eve’s sin. It might seem a bit odd that this sad and hopeless narrative is when the coming Messiah is first mentioned, but what better time to announce joy and hope than when the world is completely falling apart?

Listen to this: When God speaks to the serpent who deceived Adam and Eve, He says, “Cursed are you above all the livestock and all the wild animals! You will crawl on your belly and you will eat dust all the days of your life. And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel” (Genesis 3:14-15).

This is a prophecy about Jesus Christ, who would be the offspring of Eve many, many generations later and who would crush the enemy of God by making a way for humanity to be reconciled back to God and no longer be separated from Him.

So the first person to hear the good news of Christmas, the good news of a coming Messiah who would rescue us from our sin, wasn’t a person – it was an animal. It was the snake in the creation story.

Why is this significant? First, we need to understand what the serpent represents. The serpent in the Genesis story is described as being more crafty than all the other creatures. It was a deceiver, which we see clearly in the story. In the book of Revelation (12:9), we read about an “ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray.” Other translations say he “deceives the whole world.” Sound familiar? From beginning to end, the Bible makes a comparison between the serpent and Satan.

We also know the serpent represents Satan because the curse pronounced upon it in Genesis 3 makes it clear. The curse declares that there will be enmity between the snake and humanity. There will be hatred between them. But who would hate humanity, God’s most precious creation? The enemy of God would. The enemy of God – Satan – seeks to destroy humanity, so it’s easy to understand why there would be animosity between people and God’s enemy.

But there is another thing the snake represents: sin. Listen to what the apostle Paul says in Romans 3, as he quotes Scripture from the Old Testament: “There is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands, no one who seeks God. All have turned away, they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good, not even one. Their throats are open graves; their tongues practice deceit. The poison of vipers is on their lips.”

Sin is like a venomous snake. It harms, cripples, even kills.

So let’s ask again: Why is it significant that the serpent in the creation story is the first one to hear the good news of Christmas? Because the coming Messiah, Jesus Christ our Savior, will crush the serpent’s head and defeat sin and Satan once for all. The serpent will not be victorious in the end. And he is told this at the very beginning. From the very beginning, we are told the end of the story. The serpent knows, and Adam and Eve and all of us, that in the end, God’s enemy will be defeated.

In the end, God wins.

Not only that, but Scripture uses the serpent to teach us something else. The serpent points not only to the salvific work of our Savior, but also the redeeming work of our Savior. Imagine this: there is hope for the snake! I don’t mean Satan or sin – there is no hope for them – but the actual reptile created by God that has had a bad reputation ever since the Fall in Genesis 3.

Stay with me – I know how much people can despise snakes, and rightfully so given how dangerous many of them are. But listen to what is prophesied in Isaiah 11. First, the prophet describes the coming Messiah: “A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit. The Spirit of the Lord will rest on him – the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of power, the Spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the Lord.” This passage is about Jesus. And further down it says this: “The infant will play near the hole of the cobra, and the young child put his hand into the viper’s nest. They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain.”

Alongside the promise of a coming Savior is a promise that all the wrongs of the world will be righted, including the hatred between the snake and humanity.

This is what Jesus does: he turns everything around. He restores and renews and redeems. Once sin and Satan are completely defeated, the snake – the literal animal – will no longer represent evil. The snake will return to its original purpose, which is to be good. All of God’s creation, in the beginning, was declared good – even snakes. And when Christ our Redeemer restores all things to be as they should, even snakes will be good again. Their bad reputation will go away, and even a little child will delight in a snake.

The Lord will turn even a dreaded snake into a blessing. He will turn an enemy into a friend. That is how deep the redemptive work of Christ goes.

And so the curse in Genesis 3 simultaneously declares the good news of Christmas to come. In the same breath that the serpent is cursed, God also proclaims future blessing. In the midst of hopelessness, God promises hope.

So when we turn to the Gospels to read about the birth of Jesus, we know that a baby being born in Bethlehem is the middle of the story. Much has already happened by the time Mary gives birth. And the people of God have been waiting millennia to see the promised Messiah come.

To be clear, God did not abandon humanity until such a time when the Savior would come. On the contrary, He guided them and blessed them and brought them into a covenant with Him in order to show them a godly and righteous way to live while they waited for the offspring of Eve to come and do His good work.

As we know from reading the Old Testament, sometimes people followed the Lord well, and many times they did not. If anything, the time period from the Fall to the birth of Jesus was a fairly constant reminder of humanity’s need to be rescued from sin.

It was a long, long time of waiting for the promised Messiah to come.

But He did come. Jesus was born, thus fulfilling God’s promise to send a Savior.

But he did not come as anyone expected. Once again, God turned everything around.

One would think that the Son of God would be born in a palace surrounded by comfort, but instead He was born in a lowly stable to a young, poor mother.

One would think that the Messiah’s arrival would be celebrated by those anxiously awaiting his coming, but the chief priests and teachers of the law refused to go and see Him after they learned of his arrival from the wise men; the very people who’ve carefully studied the Scriptures and the prophecies and who knew better than anyone the circumstances under which the Messiah would come did not go the relatively short nine kilometers from Jerusalem to Bethlehem to see the newborn king. Instead, God invited a group of local shepherds from the surrounding hills and foreign astrologers from the East to welcome the child and worship Him.

One would think that when the king of the land hears that the true King of the Jews has been born, he would rejoice and seek Him out to worship Him. Instead, King Herod was disturbed at the news and secretly planned to seek Him out and kill Him, which led to the massacre of all the boys in Bethlehem two years old and under.

Very little of this story makes sense. The arrival of the promised Savior came under odd and confusing circumstances at best. But if there is Good News in the fact that Jesus came, there is also Good News in the way Jesus came.

You see, Jesus is a Savior for all. The angel declared it in Luke 2: “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”

Jesus is not only for the kings and queens of the earth who hold royal prestige and honor. He is not only for the religious leaders who have devoted their lives to knowing Scripture and walking in the ways of God. Jesus is for them, to be sure. He is for every so-called special person, even those who reject Him in the end like Herod and the chief priests did.

But Jesus is also for the common men and women of the earth. He is for the people who know next to nothing about Him. He is for the shepherds among us, and the foreigners who don’t even know His name. The Messiah is for all people. All people are welcome to come and worship, to come and be saved.

We should note how being in the presence of the King of Kings impacted the people who met Him: Jesus turned shepherds into evangelists and astrologers into worshipers.

The Gospel of Luke says, “When the angels had left the shepherds and gone into heaven, they said to one another, ‘Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.’ So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.”

The Gospel of Matthew says, “When the Magi saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh.”

Being in the presence of Jesus has the power to transform us. It compels us to fall down and worship and to share the Good News with others.

And it is Good News indeed! Christ has come to save us from our sins! Even the name Jesus means, “The Lord saves.”

So at Christmas we celebrate that God kept His promise to send a Savior. And not only did the Savior come, but He lived a life of complete obedience to God the Father and eventually sacrificed Himself on the cross as the Lamb of God. That sacrifice has secured our salvation, if we only choose to accept it.

“For the wages of sin is death,” Paul says – our sin has earned us eternal death – but the second part of that verse says this: “but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Our salvation, bought by the blood of Jesus Christ, is a gift. And the gift is eternal life. We were previously slated for eternal death, but Christ’s work on the cross has granted us eternal life.

As Paul says elsewhere in Colossians, “He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the written code, with its regulations, that was against us and that stood opposed to us; he took it away, nailing it to the cross. And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross” (2:13b-15).

One might say He crushed the serpent’s head.

Through His death on the cross, Jesus Christ defeated Death once and for all. We are no longer condemned to eternal death. “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? … But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:55, 57).

The consequence to sin in the Garden of Eden – separation from God, and death – has been reversed through Jesus Christ our Lord. He has turned everything around.

And because we have seen that He is a God who keeps His promises, let us rejoice and remain hopeful for another promise He has made, which is that Jesus will come back again and make everything right once and for all.

So as we prepare our hearts and minds to celebrate Christmas this year, let me join with the writer of Hebrews and appeal to you with this final word: “Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23).

A Time to Think About Time

It dawned on me recently that we've already been back in Kenya for five months. We reentered life and ministry fairly seamlessly, thanks be to God, and suddenly it's been five months and we're looking around wondering where the time has gone.

the week before we returned to Kenya

It doesn't feel like our Home Ministry Assignment (HMA) in America was that long ago, and yet we're so focused on what's right in front of us that we sometimes feel like it was ages ago.

But life is always like that, especially when Time, the ever-present yet unobtrusive companion of our existence, moves along without ever checking in to see if we approve of its pace. Time is a quiet but consistent guide, the constant meter of our lives, leaving its mark in the wrinkling of our bodies and the maturing of our minds, directly impacting us while somehow remaining in the background.

And so we find ourselves looking around with surprise, realizing we've already entered another year and wondering how Time led us so quickly to this point.

Our boys, who are usually oblivious to the workings of Time, sometimes have moments when they, too, realize how much our life is impacted by the speed (or seeming lack thereof) of Time. Last week, as we were kissing the boys goodnight, Kai pointed out how long we've been back in Kenya. "Mom, if we've been here for five months, that means we're almost a fourth of the way through this term."

I confirmed that was correct. "So that means we have just over a year-and-a-half until we go back for the next Home Assignment," he said. I nodded. Kai sighed. "That feels like a long time." He expressed what he was longing for on the other side of the ocean, and I told him that I understood those feelings well. "It's so weird," he said, "because it seems like whenever we're in Kenya we want to be in America, and whenever we're in America we want to be in Kenya."

Oh yes, my child. The blessing and hardship of having your heart in two places at once will never go away. When you've invested in multiple places, planted roots in several communities, and built lasting relationships around the globe, the tug and pull of your heart will never cease.

Then he said, "It's weird to think that I'll be 13 on our next Home Assignment." And my heart screamed Stop! because sometimes Time gives you glimpses of how soon the future is coming and we refuse to accept it.

For the record, my baby will always be my baby, no matter whether he's a child, teenager, or adult.

So that's settled.

That sentiment, however gushy or trite one might think it to be, points to a truth. As the writer of Ecclesiastes memorably stated, "There is a time for everything under the sun." A time to be born, a time to die. In the case of my son, a time to be a child, a time to become a teenager, a time to mature into a man. Yes, there are seasons, a time for this or that. And yet, it is always the time to grow. Even when our bodies are no longer growing physically, we are growing (hopefully) in knowledge and wisdom and love for the Lord.

Seasons of change exist alongside a lifetime of constants.

We typically spend two years in Kenya, followed by six months in the States, then repeat the cycle. We have come to think of our life in terms of seasons on the mission field or time spent on HMA. We remember events by remembering which term it took place in, or in which HMA the milestone occurred, because the seasons of our life are so easily defined by our rhythm of term-HMA-term-HMA and so on.

While our seasons change (a time to be here, a time to be there), the most significant things don't change. The fact that Kai feels tugged between two places is because his love for people here and there is ongoing and his relationships are ever-deepening. His commitment to family and friends on both sides of the world is steady, and it leads him to long for time with these people throughout the year no matter which season we find ourselves in.

Another constant is the upward trajectory of his growth and maturity. Because we spend significant time apart from people, every time we cross the ocean we hear comments on how much the kids have grown and changed because anyone who hasn't seen them in a while can see the obvious changes from before. No matter where in the world we are (the varying seasons), these boys are growing (the constant).

And they aren't the only ones. Eli and I are growing, too, in a constant movement of development. The rate of change is not constant, to be clear, but change itself is constant.

Over the course of Time, we become people we didn't used to be. By God's grace, we become someone more faithful and more fruitful than our former selves. Sometimes milestones along the way help us identify and track our growth, but sometimes we simply look back one day and realize with unexpected awareness that we're not the same anymore.

Which is a good thing.

Of course it happens that people change for the worse and trod down paths that lead them backward instead of forward, but over the course of a lifetime, with the help of God Almighty, followers of Jesus can hope for a journey that moves mostly forward despite setbacks.

We're almost a fourth of the way through this term, as Kai said, and I can say that this term has been a season of working on projects, focusing on the homefront, and processing griefs. There's been a lot of both outer and inner work. Who will I be at the end of this term? I'm not entirely sure yet, but I am sure it will be someone a bit different than the person who began this term, which is as it should be.

There is a time for every season under the sun.

A time to live, and a time to reflect on how living has changed you.

And one day, on the Day, Time will cease to exist and our journey of ever-steady growth will come to an end as we assume a new and forever constant: being exactly as we were meant to be.

I look forward to that day with more eagerness as Time marches on. I may not fully know who I will be at the end of this term, but I do know that I will be someone who longs to be in the eternal presence of the Lord more than I do now. My longing moves on an increasingly upward trajectory, both because the brokenness of this world makes me ache for the wholeness of eternity and because the beauty of this world makes me hunger for the untold splendor of heaven.

So as I pause and consider the effects of Time, my hope and prayer is that I will be molded by the past in a way that impacts my present and keeps me on a steady course of longing more and more for Christ in the future.

Do Not Be Afraid

The month of December saw us reflecting on the Christmas story in a concentrated way, which is as it should be. Reading Advent devotionals and simply rereading the familiar story in Scripture helped us focus on the birth of our Savior and shed some new light on the Incarnation.

We indeed gained new insights and enjoyed meaningful conversations as a family, but my biggest takeaway this year came from a rather simple and perhaps overlooked part of the Christmas story: Do Not Be Afraid.

This phrase is pronounced four times throughout the narrative, starting with Zechariah. He is serving in the temple when "an angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. 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'" (Luke 1:11-13a).

Next came Mary. When the angel Gabriel appeared to her, she was "greatly trouble at his words" and clearly felt enough fear for him to then say, "Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God" (Luke 1:29-30).

Following Mary was Joseph. After discovering that Mary was with child, and then deciding to divorce her, "an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, 'Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife'" (Matthew 1:20).

Lastly, many months later when Jesus was born, the shepherds were given the same message. They were tending sheep in the fields nearby when "an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people" (Luke 2:9-10).

Do not be afraid, Zechariah.

Do not be afraid, Mary.

Do not be afraid, Joseph.

Do not be afraid, shepherds.

Do not be afraid.

The message was needed because each of these people experienced something that created fear in their hearts. The unexpected appearance of an angel would cause anyone to be afraid. It would be an unfamiliar, shocking experience - and what is unfamiliar and shocking naturally causes fear. It comes as no surprise that being visited by an angel would instill instant fear.

Beyond the fear of being in the presence of an angel, however, the first three recipients of the angelic message had more to fear. Zechariah was afraid that he and Elizabeth would never have a child. Mary was afraid of how being an unwed mother would alter her life and reputation. Joseph was afraid of being attached to someone with such apparent sin and what that would mean for his wounded heart, as well as what a damaged reputation would mean for his/their familial relationships and social life.

These people had reasonable cause to be afraid.

But the angel was clear: no matter what you're thinking, no matter what you're feeling, I say to you, do not be afraid.

Each person who received this message thought there was reason to be afraid. Each person clearly felt fear already. What they didn't realize, until the angel said it to them, was that they didn't actually have a reason to be afraid. The angel, and therefore God Himself, declared to each of these people that although they thought they should be afraid, they didn't actually need to be.

The Lord was essentially saying, "I declare to you that you have nothing to fear."

This truth from the Christmas story has me thinking: What are we needlessly afraid of? What fears would fade away if we listened for the Lord to speak into our hearts and minds, "Do not be afraid"?

We've been talking a lot about fear in recent months because our son has been irrationally afraid of some things. We regularly speak truth when moments of fear overtake him, but it wasn't until we entered the Christmas story daily that I realized how important God's message to Zechariah, Mary, Joseph, and the shepherds was. I think the repeated phrase is significant not only because it's repeated so many times, but also because Israel as a whole had much to be afraid of.

In a time of oppression by a great enemy (Rome), spiritual darkness (the Lord hadn't spoken to them in 400 years), and the ongoing millennia-long project of waiting for the Messiah to appear, Israel was not at her best and was arguably in a vulnerable, fearful state at this point in her history.

When the angel said, "Do not be afraid," he was, yes, speaking directly to the hearers of his message, but also speaking a broader theme to a broader audience. "Israel, do not be afraid! Like Zechariah, the Lord has heard your prayers. Like Mary, you have found favor with God. Like Joseph, you can continue with your good plans. Like the shepherds, I want to share good news of great joy with you. Do not be afraid! The Lord is near, and here, with you."

It is no coincidence that the message to not be afraid was proclaimed in conjunction with the coming of the Messiah. The two go hand in hand: Do not be afraid! God is with us!

I remember reading a devotional last year that explained how the two names of the Messiah are tantamount to understanding the Good News. Jesus means "The Lord saves" and Immanuel means "God with us." "These two names are only good news when they go together. God With Us is dangerous news for sinners, unless he also comes as God Is Salvation. Together, these names are the gospel" (God With Us: A Journey Home by Jeremy Pierre).

So God With Us is good news! And because our good and faithful God is with us, we need not fear.

Do not be afraid! God is with us!

I think, for naturally fearful creatures such as ourselves, that it would help if we pause in moments of fear to ask, "Should I be afraid?"

Sometimes the answer will be yes, and then we should pray for God to strengthen us and help us through the fear.

But more often than not I think the answer will be no, and we can realize that our fear is based on feelings instead of reality. Feelings can easily betray us, as we've told our son many times, and we need to remind ourselves of what is true. Should I be afraid of this thing, this person, this experience? Often the answer is no, do not be afraid. The Lord knows that we think we should be afraid, but in truth there is no need to fear. And in those moments, we should pray for God to speak the same message to us that he spoke to those during the Incarnation: "Do not be afraid."

By God's grace, as we let the words of truth wash over us and tend to us, hopefully we can have the same response as Zechariah whose part in the story ends by being filled with the Holy Spirit and writing a song of praise; or the same response as Mary who said to the angel, "I am the Lord's servant; may it be to me as you have said"; or the same response as Joseph, who did what the angel of the Lord had commanded; or the same response as the shepherds who "spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child."

Clearly, each of these people overcame their fear. Each of these people believed the words of the angel and let it transform their experience.

That is my hope and prayer for our son, but also for myself and our whole family, especially as we enter a new year. I do not want to fear what has no reason to be feared. I do not want to be afraid, because the knowledge that God is with us has the power to cast out fear.

So I've taken great hope from the Christmas story this year in a way that hasn't penetrated my heart before.

Do not be afraid.

It is a resounding and repetitive message, and I pray these words of truth will not only help us, but transform us in the year ahead.

A House Repair Five Years in the Making

Five years ago a man fell through our ceiling. Well, technically it was only his foot, but it was enough to cause a scene. Enough to create a big hole and a big mess. Enough to scare the pants off our middle child who had been sitting at the table playing a game with a friend when a portion of the ceiling fell on top of them out of nowhere.

A man was in the attic because he'd come to repair a few places in our roof that were leaking. Eli was out of town and I was across the compound at the time of the incident. I came home to find my son sobbing on the porch, our missionary friend trying in vain to comfort him. And then I walked in to see this:

After the incident, we lived with a hole in the ceiling for a while because it was December and getting work done around the holidays is always difficult. When we did finally get the ceiling repaired, the job wasn't done well. The plaster cracked sooner than later and bits of ceiling regularly fell down onto the living room carpet and furniture. Rather than try to get the repair job repaired, Eli covered the crack with clear packaging tape to prevent more of our ceiling from raining down on us anymore. Then we promptly moved on with our lives.

Our ceiling has looked like this for the past five years:

Some might ask, "Why wouldn't you bother fixing your ceiling at some point in the past several years of opportunity? Wouldn't it be a fairly simple thing to do, and wouldn't you rather live with a decent ceiling than dwell under one like that?"

Good questions.

The answer is twofold: 1) tackling any sort of housing project here is such a headache that it's usually not worth it, and 2) we long ago stopped caring about such trivial concerns because living with a house that's not somehow falling down around you is unheard of. A ceiling taped into place? Just another day in Kenya. It's truly been a trivial matter.

What does move us to immediate action? The day I walked into our bedroom to discover that termites had literally eaten through the concrete walls and were beginning to invade our bedroom, having already eaten away part of a bookmark that was sitting on my bedside table, with the actual book next in line. That is something requiring immediate action.

Cracks in the ceiling? Nah. They can stay that way for years with nary a second thought.

Well, last week our ceiling was finally repaired, but it wasn't because we sought to repair it. We had other, more pressing issues to deal with: repair jobs that were a long time coming but had finally reached a point of demanding attention.

A different ceiling in our house was literally falling apart at the seams and it was not a situation that could be fixed with tape. Moisture in our bathroom had slowly eroded the ceiling until it dissolved and broke apart. Tiles were falling off the walls, paint was peeling, and cracks in the exterior walls rained down daily dirt particles.

It was not a pretty sight. But once again we couldn't find the motivation or energy to care for a long time. House repair projects? We wouldn't go near them with a ten-foot pole. We know too many people with too many stories of projects gone wrong, projects that take a thousand times longer than they're supposed to, projects that begin but never end (literally), projects that seem to take away years of your life before they're done.

We had no interest in opening that Pandora's box.

Two things finally made us pull the plug: 1) our househelper urged us to fix the bathroom because she couldn't clean well in there with the ceiling and walls falling in around her, and 2) we returned from HMA to discover a wall in our classroom suffering from the moisture in the concrete, causing the paint to bubble profusely, dissolve, and fall onto the books below.

If there's one thing to make Mama Horn spring into action, it's a Book Rescue!

Between the two projects, we knew it was finally time to get some guys to come do the necessary repairs to the two rooms.

When they came to assess the situation, the maintenance guys immediately took notice of the taped ceiling in our living room that we had disregarded for the past five years. They looked at it and tsked. They declared, before even laying eyes on the actual projects they'd come to do, that they would fix the ceiling. They were unwilling to let such a ceiling exist in our house.

What we had ignored for years, they could not ignore. They added one more item to the list of everything they needed to accomplish in our house.

It was encouraging, but also surprising. I'm not joking when I say that such a thing is a trivial matter in a place like this. People all over this region live in subpar situations. People live without running water, without indoor plumbing, without electricity. Our cracked ceiling pales in comparison. But these men saw it right away and deemed it a necessary fix. We are grateful, especially since we weren't even going to bother asking them to take a look at it.

I eventually asked myself, "Was the fact that we gave up on repairing our ceiling a matter of laziness or a point of practicing contentment?"

I think it's both.

Some things cost too much time and energy to care. And some things simply won't ever find their way to the front burner because there are too many other fish to fry. And almost all things require a certain amount of emotional bandwidth to tackle. When considering everything that's already draining our daily bandwidth, something like a ceiling held up with tape hadn't registered in years.

I once heard of a missionary, also living in my host country, who had the time to do regular yoga sessions and meet people for coffee. I was astonished. Granted, her life and ministry were much different than ours - life in the capital city has certain amenities that don't exist in a rural town upcountry like ours, and non-medical ministry doesn't typically come with call schedules. This woman's life had bandwidth. I doubt her house had any rooms with cracks in the ceiling that remained there for years on end.

How I wish all missionaries could have that kind of bandwidth! How I wish no one had to give up on basic house maintenance because it just isn't worth the time or energy! How I wish our ministries could benefit from an overflow of emotional bandwidth!

But also, how I wish all missionaries could practice and exemplify more contentment! How I wish no one had to lose sight of what mattered most because a living space isn't up to their personal standards! How I wish our ministries wouldn't suffer from an overflow of unrealistic expectations and subsequent dissatisfaction. (I say this because I also know of situations in which missionaries were so concerned about house projects that it absorbed their focus to the detriment of all else.)

Did we become lazy in fixing our ceiling? Perhaps. Did we follow Paul's example to "be content in all circumstances" whether our house was in its best state or not (Philippians 4:11-12)? I suppose so.

I think the only thing we could have done differently would be to stop and ask ourselves, "Are we being lazy or content in this?" It can be difficult to know the difference, but it's worth asking because one is formed from a human heart and the other is born from a God-fearing heart.

We are people who pride ourselves on being content. It's been a foundational value of our marriage since the beginning, and it's something we've regularly discussed with our children and established as part of our family culture. There is far too little contentment in the world, and we hope to exude whatever contentment we can. But we also want to be diligent, intentional change-makers, which means choosing a path of action. In the future, I hope to pause and ask myself that question as needed: "Are we being lazy or content in this?"

How can we know when to let something stay on the back burner or move it to the front burner? The answer lies in asking the Lord. He is the one who anointed David king over Israel, and yet made him wait 15 years before becoming king over Judah, and another 7 years before becoming king over all Israel. He is also the one who led Paul to move on to the next city, or to remain where he was for a while.

God knows when we should stay still and when we should act. Our task is to seek Him in all things, even trivial things like a ceiling held in place with tape.

Big Questions from Little Hearts

"Mama, will I go to heaven?"

It was bedtime, the light had been turned off, and I was saying a final goodnight to his brothers. My youngest beckoned me over and whispered this question in my ear. I was surprised, not only because it seemingly came out of nowhere but also because I knew that my son already knew the answer to his own question. Yet clearly something had prompted Asa to wonder anew about his salvation.

"Do you believe in Jesus?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

"Then, yes, you'll go to heaven." I reminded him what the Bible teaches us: that all we have to do is believe in Jesus and we'll be with Him in heaven. Referencing John 1:12, which we had just read earlier that day, I said, "Yet to all who received Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God."

The truth is that we don't have to do anything special to be saved. We don't have to do anything at all. Jesus alone did what needed to be done, and beyond that we don't need to do anything to be in God's good graces.

The comforting assurance I meant to impart to my son did not come. Asa was restless, agitated even.

"But what if I'm not committed?" he asked. "Like Paul. What if I'm not committed like he is?"

"Do you mean, what if you're not as great a Christian as Paul was?"

"Yeah."

Oh, precious son of mine! How the human heart so easily betrays us and questions the truths of God! Yet what follower of Jesus hasn't asked this question in some form? The variations are many, but the essence is the same: Have I done enough? Am I enough?

Often these moments of self-doubt come on the heels of comparison. Have I done enough, like that person? Am I enough, like that person?

Asa was thinking about the apostle Paul and felt that he couldn't compare with such a man, couldn't live up to someone of such commitment.

It's an idea that we are familiar with - the notion that missionaries and other people in ministry are on a pedestal - and an idea that we soundly denounce. But the human heart has a way of convincing us that we are not enough, even if we've been taught and nurtured to know and believe otherwise.

I am a missionary, like Paul. Will I ever have the same kind of impact that Paul had? No, certainly not. I am confident of that. But I am no less worthy of God's love and salvation, no less worthy of His attention, than the apostle Paul. I believe in Jesus, just like Paul did. And I am secure in Christ because of my belief.

So is my son. I reminded him that when Jesus died on the cross, there were two other people crucified at the same time, right next to Him. They were both criminals and one of them, while dying on his own cross, realized who Jesus was and believed in Him then and there. And Jesus said to him, "Today you will be with me in paradise." I told Asa, "That man was a thief and had made some bad decisions in his life, but none of that mattered in the end. The only thing that mattered was that he believed in Jesus. Remember the verse we were just talking about? All we have to do is believe. That's it."

When we do believe, hopefully we'll want to live in a way that glorifies God and pleases His heart. "We'll keep making mistakes our whole life," I said, "because we'll still be sinners our whole life, but hopefully our love for God will impact the way we live and impact the choices we make."

Which brought us back to Paul. Paul loved the Lord and his life was never the same after he made a decision to believe in Jesus. His complete devotion to the Lord was rather awe-inspiring. As my son noted, Paul was truly committed to Jesus.

But the good news is that we don't have to follow in Paul's footsteps in order to love God and glorify Him. We don't have to be a missionary or a pastor or a preacher or do any other kind of intentional ministry. We can love God and bring Him glory in a myriad of ways as we pursue the gifts He has given us.

"Did you know your grandma has been a singer her whole life?" I asked Asa. His head perked up - that kid is a singing machine and was clearly invested in where this conversation was going. "She's been singing ever since she was a kid. And she has been glorifying God by singing her whole life. God gave her the gift of singing, and she loves it and is passionate about it, and she glorifies God and pleases His heart just by singing."

I gave him another example. "What did your grandpa do for a job?"

"He was a doctor."

"Right. Was he a missionary doctor like your dad?"

"No."

"Right. He was a regular doctor in Michigan for decades. And he glorified God by being a doctor. We can all glorify God and please His heart by being regular people doing regular things. Isn't that good news?"

"Mmm hmm."

I asked if he knew what God said is the greatest commandment? Asa shook his head. "To love God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength. That's it: love God." I assured him there are many ways we can love God. We can do it by singing, or praying, or working hard, or by doing nothing and resting!

"Did you know that one of the Ten Commandments is to observe the Sabbath and just rest?" Asa did not know that, and judging by the look on his face he was either confounded or amazed or both. (But aren't we all a bit confounded and amazed by that truth?) "We can love God by doing nothing! Isn't that great?" Asa nodded and smiled.

I have said many times that the only true calling any of us have is to love God back. How we do that will look as different as each set of fingerprints on the planet. But at the end of the day (and the end of our time here on earth), the only thing that will matter is if we've responded to the invitation to love God back.

My prayer for our children is that they'll know how loved and cherished they are, and that they'll choose to love God in return. If they do, nothing else matters. The details of how they spend their days and what they do with their lives will be of little consequence because, ultimately, they'll be spending their days and their whole lives loving God.

And, hopefully, their love for Him will impact the way they live. That is true for all of us: our love for God helps us to glorify Him.

"Is Dad glorifying God by not coming home?" Asa asked.

Context: Earlier we'd learned that Eli would not be coming home in time to see the boys before bed like we'd thought. He was flying back from Minnesota and was currently stuck in Chicago with no clear answer as to when he'd make it home. Asa had been rather upset at the news, and now he asked an insightfully good question.

Here's what I said:

"I think Dad can glorify God whether he stays in Chicago or whether he comes home. You know why? Because I think glorifying God is less about whether our plans succeed or not and more about how we respond to our plans succeeding or not. If Dad lets his disappointment and frustration make him speak with anger to other people, then he's not glorifying God. But if he chooses to be patient and content, if he speaks to the airline employees with kindness and gratefulness, then he's glorifying God."

To make a final point, I asked him, "Do you remember the fruits of the Spirit?" (On a side note, when I recited them for Asa he corrected me that I'd forgotten about goodness. That precious child of mine knows his Scripture!) "If Dad is loving and kind and patient and so forth, then he is glorifying God whether he comes home tonight or not."

Asa nodded, no longer restless or agitated. This little believer in Jesus has a heart trying to understand Him more, and I praise the Lord for these opportunities to think through these important questions together and remember the truths He's given us.

Heaven is waiting for all who believe in Jesus. And as I've said before and will keep on saying, the only true calling any of us have is to love God back. But let me add an addendum: The only true calling any of us have is to love God back and to allow that love for Him to help us glorify Him forever.

The Ministry of Discipleship

Anyone who's heard us talk about our life and ministry in Kenya knows how passionate we are about training the next generation of African doctors. This is why:

This current map from the World Health Organization shows the global distribution of physicians, showing the number of doctors per 10,000 people. The darker blue areas have the most doctors while the lightest blue areas have the least. Here's the fact that stirs our hearts to action: the continent of Africa has, on average, less than 1 doctor per 40,000 people.

The reality is stark. Simply put, Africa needs more doctors. It also needs healthcare systems with an infrastructure that can support doctors and the supplies and equipment necessary for treating patients.

Our main role in improving healthcare in Africa is to train Family Medicine physicians. I've written before about why we train African doctors, but I haven't yet written about another aspect of what we do, which is equally important.

Not only does Africa need more doctors, but it needs doctors who are Christian leaders.  How do we aspire to achieve this goal? By training them in every facet of the job – how to be a compassionate healthcare provider who seeks to meet the spiritual needs of the patients as well as their physical needs, and how to be a Christian doctor who fights for just and merciful healthcare systems.

What is our method for training them to not only be doctors, but Christian physician leaders?

We disciple them.

What exactly is discipleship? It’s learning how to be disciples, and Christian discipleship is specifically learning how to follow Jesus.

Typically, discipleship doesn’t just happen in a vacuum. Nor does it happen overnight. In truth, it’s a lifelong process. We’re all on a journey of learning to love Jesus back and to follow Him throughout the course of our life. But it’s a process. And it’s a process modeled by Jesus.

Jesus came into the world to save us from our sins. He is the Good News. But not only did He make the sacrifice required to rescue us from sin, He spent time teaching people the truth of God’s love. He spent time proclaiming a message that there’s a better way to live this life than what our sinful hearts are inclined to think and do. We are meant to love God back, and to love each other too.

But Jesus came not only to deliver a message. He came to live out that message with the purpose of demonstrating His love for us and serving as an example for us. Jesus spent time building relationships with people, walking alongside them to help them understand Him and His ways better, and to guide them as they learned to apply His principles.

And that kind of process takes time. Jesus chose twelve specific people to be His disciples – as a starting point – and He spent three years in close proximity with them, intentionally investing in them and helping them grow in knowledge and wisdom and spiritual maturity.

For example, He taught them parables about faith as small as a mustard seed, and he also healed a woman who’d been bleeding for 12 years because her faith was the size of believing that if she could just touch His cloak without being noticed she would be healed – and she was – which served as an example of what that kind of faith looks like. Jesus wanted His disciples to learn from her. Jesus also taught His disciples about prayer, then exemplified prayer for them, both praying in public and removing Himself from everyone and everything in order to pray alone.

Jesus brought a message and He lived that message day in, day out, for His disciples to learn firsthand what it meant to love the Lord wholeheartedly and follow Him.

And the process of discipleship takes time.

Years. Decades. A Lifetime.

We know very well from the Gospels that even though the twelve disciples spent so much close time with Jesus, they were continually confused about a myriad of things throughout that time. They were watching the humble example of Jesus...and were still choosing to speak pridefully. They were listening to His parables...and still had no idea what He was talking about. They were hearing Him say that He would die and rise again three days later...and were clueless that He was speaking literally and seriously. The disciples were bumbling their way through understanding Jesus and trying to follow Him (which I love it because it provides a sense of camaraderie in all of my own bumbling!).

The point is this: learning the ways of Jesus, learning His Word and how to apply it in our daily lives, is an ongoing process. It’s a lifelong process, and somehow along the way, by God’s grace, the journey of maturing spiritually will result in us bearing good fruit.

Jesus spoke about this to His disciples shortly before He was crucified. At the end of their 3-year journey together, the end of their in-person, day in, day out time together, this was one of the things Jesus said to them:

“This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples” (John 15:8).

What a clear and striking picture of discipleship! Disciples of Jesus are meant to bear fruit, which in turn glorifies the Father.

As noted, discipleship is a lifelong process for all of us, but there are seasons of life in which discipleship can be particularly intentional – times when we allow ourselves to be poured into, and times when we pour ourselves back into others.

As Eli and I have undertaken the ministry of discipleship, we’ve come to realize that’s really what it is: taking what has been poured into you and choosing to pour it back out. Our offerings can take many forms – knowledge, education, resources, life experiences. The Lord uses all manner of things so we can both be discipled and do the work of discipling others throughout our life.

As we live and minister in Kenya, we’re trying to be intentional and strategic in how we use the four years we’ve been given with each Family Medicine resident. We teach them and try to model how to be disciples of Jesus. We do this in hopes that they’ll be well prepared to bear good fruit when it’s their time to leave Chogoria and move on to the next place God has called them to, giving glory to the Father wherever they go.

We've been in Kenya for eight years now and have seen five graduating classes emerge from the residency program. We're in a marvelous season of seeing what God is doing with these graduates after they leave the program and pursue medicine and ministry beyond their residency training. We're seeing them understand the Bible more (thanks in large part to Eli's commitment to discussing How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth as part of their spiritual curriculum), we're seeing them step up to host Bible Study, we're hearing them consider mission work for the first time, we're seeing them take on leadership roles at hospitals around the country, we're seeing them move far away from family to pursue ministry among non-Christian patient populations, and we're seeing them make concrete plans to move back to their home countries in order to build up the healthcare system in some of the poorest places on the planet.

These men and women are disciples of Jesus, and they are bearing good fruit. What a privilege, what an honor, what a joy to participate in training and discipling the next generation of Christian physician leaders for Africa!

Life and Death: Nature Speaks

A couple months ago I took extra notice of the vibrant colors around Chogoria.  We had seen photos of the fall colors in the Midwest where our families are - a time of year we always miss - and in an effort to appreciate the beauty in front of me I simply looked up as I walked around our compound.  No leaves change color here on the equator, but there are colors aplenty because flowers are perpetually in bloom.

We are surrounded by color.  Whereas the colors of autumn in the Midwest remind us of death, the colors in this "Land of Eternal Spring" remind us of life.

To be sure, the flowers here follow cycles of life and death like flowers do everywhere, but there is no one season where everything dies all at once.  We never find ourselves surrounded by barrenness.  When one plant loses its flowers, there are plenty more still in full bloom.

Because of where I grew up, I used to think of seasons as either being full of life or death.  Spring and summer were seasons of life, autumn and winter were seasons of death.  Here in Chogoria, we see life and death juxtaposed every day.  They live in tandem, neighbors and allies.  When the flowers of the flame tree fall and litter the ground with their bright orange petals, the frangipani blooms are clinging to their tree and filling the air with their fragrance.  When the purple jacarandas are shriveling under my feet, the pink oleanders are swaying in the breeze.

Life and death coexist year-round, and there is beauty and purpose in both.  It reminds me of the words of Paul in Philippians 1:20b-21: "Now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or death.  For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain."

Our Bible Study has been reading Acts, and so much of the early church's story is about living in the tension between their new life in Christ and the increasing threat to their physical lives.  But what Paul said is true: whether by life or death, Christ will be exalted.

Nature speaks into this truth.  Whether the jacaranda tree is in full bloom, or whether the flowers have long since fallen and turned to dust, the tree gives glory to God.  

Even the sun, which is a dying star, gives light and life to all it reaches.  Nature shouts at us with metaphors about life and death, if we are willing to listen.

As I was missing autumn a couple months ago, my 6th graders were memorizing a poem for school called Come, Little Leaves by George Cooper.  It's about leaves falling, and it's about contentment.  The leaves are not portrayed as dying, but as playing, dancing, and flying.  They are doing what they must, but they are doing it with acceptance and even joy.  My favorite line of the poem is this: "Dancing and whirling, the little leaves went; Winter had called them, and they were content."

Even in death, they were content.  Because nature knows what we are still trying to understand and accept: that whether by life or by death, Christ will be exalted.

Life glorifies God.

Death glorifies God.

Because all of life and death ultimately comes from God.

We are surrounded by both life and death year-round in Chogoria, and we bear witness to the exaltation of the Lord because of it.  The hibiscus and poinsettias are proclaiming the glory of the Lord outside the window right now, and they will proclaim His glory when it's their turn to fade because He who has made them has ordained it to be so.  They submit themselves to the Creator who grants all of life and death.  And they are content.

I pray it will also be so with me.

***********************

The song Every Season by Nichole Nordeman is a favorite of mine because of how beautifully it captures the metaphor of the changing seasons and our lives in Christ.  I encourage you to take a listen.

Jesus, Immanuel

In our predominantly Christian corner of East Africa, the prosperity gospel is often preached in churches and curses are often pronounced by witch doctors in villages.  We have less encounters with other religions than with skewed interpretations and applications of our own religion.  As with anywhere in the world, there is still more room for the Gospel to go forth, to take root, and to grow deep.  In our particular context, the message of Christ has gone forth and taken root in many hearts, but the soil is shallow and the roots are thin.  As Jesus himself said, faith is easily uprooted in those conditions (Matthew 13:20-21).

Our main ministry is discipleship.  With the intention of deepening and strengthening roots, we work to impart the truth of who God really is and how he interacts with us and our world.  This deeply matters because who God is – and isn't – shapes not only how we live our lives but how we relate to our Savior.  It also impacts the meaning of this time of year and how we celebrate the distinctly Christian holiday of Christmas.

Earlier this year I sat outside a Buddhist temple with my nine-year-old son and talked about what God requires of us.  Our family had traveled to Thailand for a missions conference and had the privilege of visiting two temples during our time there.  The first temple we visited was particularly memorable because of its design.  We had never been to a place like that before and our fantasy-loving boys were instantly enamored with the dragons carved into the temple architecture.  Truth be told, I was enamored too.  But it wasn’t just the dragons that intrigued me.  The entire building was magnificent, clearly constructed with care and tended to with honor and respect.  The red walls complimented the gold columns and statues and perfectly matched the red, white, and gold patterned tiles on the floor.

We admired the devotion of the Buddhists who had originally built the structure as well as the worshippers visiting the temple that day.  We ourselves had walked through the temple, first taking off our shoes like everyone else, and marveled at the architectural masterpiece we found ourselves in.  Incense filled our noses with unfamiliar scents and filled our minds with questions.  The numerous Buddhas sprinkled throughout the temple drew our attention again and again.  The entire experience proved a powerful conversation tool for talking with our boys about religion.  We talked about why people were lighting incense, why they knelt before the Buddha, why they walked laps around the temple.  The experience ignited their minds.

It was at the second temple we visited, with a golden Buddha as tall as the building itself, that our son asked me pointed questions about God and people as we sat outside putting our shoes back on.  “Why are all these people doing this?  God said we don’t have to do stuff like this to be saved.”  My son was right, but these people didn’t know that.  When I told him such, he heaved a huge sigh.  His heart was full of the truth of God and full of the grief that comes with knowing other people are unaware of that truth.  I told my son the worshippers walking in and out of the temple were doing what they thought was best, or even necessary, to please God.  They wanted to please God, which is good.  But our human nature thinks we need to do something to win God’s approval, to do something to earn salvation.  “But we don’t need to,” my son said.  And he was right, because he knows who God really is and who he isn’t.

Sometime later, back in Kenya, I read The Iliad with our boys as a part of our homeschool history unit on ancient civilizations.  What stood out to us was how often the Greek gods meddled with the minds of men and women for their own selfish ends, or, perhaps worse, for their own entertainment.  It was shocking, really, to read about gods who came to earth to dwell among men but who did so to take advantage of them or to prove their own power and authority.  Those gods deceived their worshippers, tearing them down in order to build themselves up.

After Ancient Greece we studied Ancient Rome, and then had the privilege of visiting Rome during travels to Europe for a leadership conference where we walked the same ancient streets as emperors who attained godhood upon their deaths (and sometimes were worshipped as a god during their lifetime).  God didn’t have to come down; God was already here, an inherent deity running through the veins of a man in power over an empire.  This “emperor god” had his own interests at heart – that of expanding the empire and ensuring his supreme authority by enforcing submissive “peace” throughout the empire, the same “peace” that destroyed Jerusalem in AD 70 and used the spoils of war to fund the building of the Colosseum back in Rome.

This year, our globally mobile lifestyle helped us think about religions around the world, both ancient and contemporary.  Learning about the gods of other religions helped us learn about our own God too – who He is and who He isn’t.

Our God is love, and our God is near.  He is Love Come Down, not to have his own needs met but to meet our needs instead.

Our God makes no demands.  He is graciously present – gracious because His very presence is an unmerited gift which expects nothing in return.  He chooses to dwell with us not to exact punishment or mischief or deception, but to demonstrate His choice of us.

Our God is hope personified.  We have eternal hope in Him because salvation comes to us, not because of us and our good deeds.

In the captivating book, God With Us: A Journey Home, Jeremy Pierre beautifully describes who our God is when he explains the two names of the Messiah: Jesus (The Lord Saves) and Immanuel (God With Us).  “These two names are only good news when they go together.  God With Us is dangerous news for sinners, unless he also comes as God is Salvation.  Together, these names are the gospel.”

Our family is rejoicing anew as we celebrate Christmas in Kenya this year.  We celebrate that God kept His promise to send a Savior.  We celebrate that God came near.  We celebrate that God came in love.  We celebrate that His coming is our salvation.  We celebrate that His salvation calls for repentance without penance.

We rejoice in these truths, and we proclaim them.  This is the Gospel, and we hope and pray it will not only go forth, but take root and grow deep in our corner of the world.