Category: Devotions for the Church Year

Epiphany

“For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord.” Ephesians 5:8-10

There are caves in the world that are so deep they haven’t yet been fully discovered. One of those is Krubera Cave, located in a mountain range that runs north of the country of Turkey. The opening to this cave is above the tree line but stretches deep into the earth. Explorers have gone as far as seven thousand feet, but Krubera Cave is believed to have still more chambers that stretch farther into cold, humid, pitch-black labyrinths.

The interior of this cave is eternal darkness where sunlight never reaches. For explorers, the depths of this cave offer extreme isolation. The darkness separates them from the world on the earth’s surface. They can’t see anything or even each other without artificial light sources such as headlamps or floodlights.

In the darkness there is disorientation. Without the natural light cycles, telling time is impossible. A sense of direction or knowing where they are is difficult. Explorers use their own camps as landmarks in this underground wilderness.

Life forms in the abyss of darkness include spiders and beetles that have adapted so they are born without eyes. They have gone blind because there is no need to see. In the depths of a cave, constant darkness brings isolation, disorientation, and blindness. This is the world, spiritually, when no light shines.

Paul says, “For you were once in darkness.” The way he writes this implies a life change. It refers to the past. The life being lived now is not the one lived a few years ago. Something happened to the individuals who belong to this congregation in Ephesus. But before that transformation came about, they were living in darkness.

This isn’t the physical darkness of a cave, but of spiritual darkness. He uses the image of darkness as a metaphor for spiritual realities. They were living in ignorance and blindness, in falsehood, and with a sense of being lost. But at some point, the light of Christ shined on them and changed their hearts.

Genuine, transformation happens when we have the Holy Spirit living in us. He is the one who chases the darkness away and establishes in us the shining light of Christian goodness, righteousness, and truth. The brighter our lives shine with these qualities, the more accurate our reflection of Jesus will be.

We expose him and make him known for what he is really like. Our lives reveal what has been hidden, and then Christ’s nature is made to appear. In a cave, when explorers shine their floodlights into those deep caverns, the colors of the rocks and the beauty of the mineral deposits, the draperies and the columns of the rock formations, are revealed. They have always existed but no one sees them until they come into a shaft of light.

During this season of Epiphany, we pay attention to Christ’s arrival as the light of the world. Epiphany is a season of enlightenment when what has been hidden is made known.

Take heart for Christ is near. He is shining in you and through you in ways you may not even realize. He is your source of light, and he is the brilliance that shows himself to us asks us to make him known to others. The one who declares, “I am the light of the world,” says to us, “You are the light of the world.”

An angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. Matthew 2:13, 19

In verse 13 of Matthew chapter 2, an angel appeared to Joseph with the message of escape to Egypt. Later, in verse 19, an angel gives him the message to return to the land of Israel. The angel’s words convey protection while also placing a call on Joseph’s life. He is in a bit of a dilemma, really. He wants to be a husband to Mary and a father to Jesus, supporting them and providing for them. And yet, fatherhood to this sort of child asks him to play the part of a fugitive. He must flee from his home, travel under the cover of night, and hide in a foreign country.

It’s all a part of God’s plan, and Joseph realized that. He accepted the reality that he must release his hold on his own plans in order to protect Jesus. Joseph is a key player in the intricacies of the Christmas story as it unfolded in those early days of Jesus’ life. Without Joseph’s willingness to heed the angel’s instructions, his wife and child would have been exposed to serious danger. God’s plan would have been interrupted, and the path to salvation would have been hindered.

Joseph may not have been aware of so much weight resting on his urgent decisions, but he was at least mindful of the prophecies heralding the coming Messiah. Joseph seems to be a quiet man who would not stand out in a crowd. He was a small town boy, a carpenter, someone who worked with his hands. Drawing attention to himself wasn’t part of his character. But devotion to God certainly was. Joseph is listed in the first chapter of Matthew as part of Jesus’ genealogy. He is a descendant of King David which means he had royalty in his heritage. Growing up in his family, he may have heard the stories as they were passed down about the anointing of David as a young man and his call to ascend to the throne.

Woven into Joseph’s experience and his identity was a sense of dignity and majesty. Even though he earned a living doing the ordinary work of building and constructing, he possessed in his lineage the renown and the splendor of kings. This baby boy that he would raise was a king, too. Born of the lineage of Israel’s King David, this child had for his own father the king of heaven. He was the one who would bring the peace and the order, the hope and the power of the Kingdom of God.

But before any of that could happen, this baby king’s very survival depended on Joseph. As Jesus’ earthly father, he must follow the orders of the heavenly father as delivered to him through the angel. The way ahead held danger. It held risk, and it mattered very much in God’s larger plan.

In the Christmas story, Joseph appears understated. He stands quietly by as the shepherds worship the new baby, and the wise men from the east offer him gifts. Joseph listens to the angel and does what is said without any hesitation or complaint. He comes across as a background character while Mary, the baby, and so many others receive all the attention. And yet, Joseph is crucial to the beginning of Jesus’ life, and the development of the entire salvation story. His prompt obedience actively brought about a wondrous plan that began in Jesus’ childhood, and continues through history, reaching us even today.

Joseph’s life shines with an unshakable trust in God. He listened and he followed through unusual and even contradictory situations. His marriage, his occupation, his parenting, and even his home address in Galilee was surrendered to the will and the plans of God. While the Christmas story dances around him with sparkle and glad tidings, Joseph stands square in the middle of it with unwavering devotion, unshakable trust, and flawless obedience. Steadfastness and faithfulness are as much a part of Christmas as are peace and hope and joy. It’s a fitting and complete pageantry to welcome to earth the king of kings. He is fathered by both God the father who has established his throne in heaven, and whose kingdom rules over all, and by Joseph, the descendant of David who answers the call to surrender and sacrifice.

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. I Thessalonians 5:16-18

The apostle Paul planted a church in Thessalonica, a city of 200,000 people. His success there provoked conflict among the unbelieving Jews. They started a riot, hauled some of the members of this new church before the city authorities, and charged them with disloyalty to Caesar. Paul leaves town, so wrote this letter to them from a distant location. These instructions from verses 16 through 18 are part of a longer list of final instructions Paul gives in his effort to still pastor this church and lead them.

Even though Paul was gone, the new church still dealt with hostility. These Christians suffered persecution from the beginning for their commitment to Jesus Christ.

Imagine living in a city like that and hearing these words from Paul to rejoice always, to pray continually, and to give thanks in all circumstances. Not just when the sun shone and things were going your way, but even when you were treated unfairly in the marketplace, or your respected pastor was forced to leave town, or the civil authorities gave unjust convictions for crimes to your friends and family.

Rejoice, Paul says. Give thanks in all circumstances, Paul says. But why would he tell people to act that way? Because this is God’s will for you. But doesn’t God see the torment, the injustice, and the pain? Yes, he does. When Paul writes that it’s God’s will for us to rejoice, pray, and give thanks, he’s telling us that God is interested in more than our comforts, our success, and our ability to get along with the world.

God wanted to develop in the heart and the culture of this new church a mentality of abundance. he wants them to see everything they have as a blessing, and not as something they deserve. The Thessalonian believers are invited to live in their pagan, Caesar-worshiping culture as lights that shine for Christ. Rejoicing, prayer, and gratitude create the right conditions for the holy Spirit to work. If the Thessalonian church complained instead of rejoiced, if they criticized or passed judgment instead of saying “thank you,” and if they gave God the silent treatment out of frustration over their circumstances, then the Spirit would have no place among them.

But this small group of people said, “We are going to praise God even when life gets hard. We are going to keep on praying even when the deck is stacked against us. We are going to hold onto the good, look for it in others, and then thank them when we see it.” Because of this choice the Thessalonian church made, that city began to change.

God’s will for them ultimately was to become contagious by spreading the love of Christ. They were attractive because they held the keys to freedom. they possessed the reasons for true, lasting hope. They conducted a power for life and healing that was stronger than any decree or political power associated with Caesar.

Keep practicing gratitude. It’s healthy for our own hearts and souls, and it’s healthy for our communities and for our world. When you are a person who is thankful, kind and attentive to the good around you, then you are someone that everyone wants to be with. A grateful life is attractive because that person knows they have enough. They know they have an abundant supply that never runs out. They rest confident in the Heavenly Father from whom these good gifts come.

Practicing gratitude supplies us with plenty to meet our own needs, and with plenty to give away. Gratitude and thankfulness are lovely gifts that keep on giving. This is God’s will for us–to live in his enduring love and then to give it away whenever we can. As we do this, his Holy Spirit is given the space to work among us in power and with the promise of transformation. Gratitude is healthy.

They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the king of Israel!” John 12:13

This verse comes from the scene in the New Testament where Jesus is entering the city of Jerusalem at the time of the Passover feast. Ever since Peter’s statement, “You are the Messiah, the son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16), Jesus had been talking about his death by explaining to his disciples that he must “go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, the chief priests, and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life” (Matthew 16:21). This kind of discussion filled the disciples with grief. As Mark mentions, “the disciples did not understand what he meant and were afraid to ask him about it” (Mark 9:32).

His last public miracle happened in Bethany when Lazarus died. Jesus ordered the stone rolled away, then he prayed, then he told Lazarus to come out of the grave. To the astonishment of everyone present, Lazarus appeared before them alive. Resurrected.

John tells us that “when it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, many went up from the country to Jerusalem for their ceremonial cleansing before the Passover. They kept looking for Jesus, and as they stood in the temple courts, they asked one another, ‘What do you think? Isn’t he coming at all?’ But the chief priests and the Pharisees had given orders that anyone who found out where Jesus was should report it so that they might arrest him” (John 11:55-57).

And now Jesus has appeared. He is riding into Jerusalem not as a military hero on a war horse, but as a man of peace on a humble donkey.

The crowd’s question is answered. Jesus has come. His raising of Lazarus from the dead was widely known. The people from Bethany who had seen it happen told other visitors to the city. Pretty soon, Jesus’ notoriety grew, and a massive crowd goes out to meet him. The energy and excitement among the people that day was so powerful that the Pharisees complained. “Look how the whole world has gone after him!” (John 12:19). They are jealous. They are disheartened by their loss of authority, and they are failing in their efforts to arrest him.

But the crowd knew Jesus was worth going after. His teaching and his miracles proved he was the Messiah. And now, entering Jerusalem in this public way, he was acting as they had always wanted him to. They were looking for a king, a savior to come. The palms they waved were a symbol of victory. “Hosanna!” they shout. “Save, I pray!” is the approximate translation. They are praising him and asking for deliverance.

The apostle John, in this moment of insight, views Jesus as entering the city on a mission of salvation. It’s a royal, triumphant mission with Jesus, the messianic king, at the forefront receiving the homage he deserves.

For Jesus, this entrance into Jerusalem has another meaning entirely. He’s coming as the prince of peace. This arrival is about more than the events of the few days involving Passover. It was about the establishment of a whole kingdom. This kingdom institutes a different kind of power from that of worldly kings who flaunt their authority and lord over their subjects. Jesus’ kind of power is that of the servant.

He modeled it for the disciples during their last supper together. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you” (John 13:12).

The kingdom Jesus comes to establish has its beginnings in Jerusalem, known as the City of David. King David ruled there as royalty. God promised him that he would never cease to have a descendant on the throne. As we see from the genealogy in the book of Matthew, King David is an ancestor of Jesus. His throne was in a palace. His conquests were made on the battlefield. His renown was gained through political victories. At the time of his death, his body was buried.

During Holy Week, a new kind of king has come. His throne isn’t in a man-made palace, but in heaven. He entered the city in peace and made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant. He humbled himself by becoming obedient to death on a cross (Philippians 2:6-7). He is a king acquainted with grief, and a man of sorrows (Isaiah 53:3). His conquests are made in human hearts, freeing us from the bondage of sin. His strength doesn’t lie in the renown of political victories, but in love. John writes about love in a different place saying, “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us,” and that “now we can love because he first loved us” (I John 3:16, 4:19).

At the time of his death, his body was buried in the tomb, but it didn’t stay there. In the words of Paul, “Christ died for our sins, according to the Scriptures. He was buried, and he was raised on the third day” (I Corinthians 15:3-4). “It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (I Corinthians 1:30).

During this Easter season, may we together shout “Hosanna! Save, we pray, our hearts from unbelief and our lives from destruction.” May we turn to the servant king who gave up everything for us and suffered in our place. May we place our trust in his resurrection. His love is stronger than death, and his kingdom is forever.

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8

Earlier this month, we entered the season of Lent. This is the forty-day span of time leading up to Easter. The church has observed this season of fasting ever since its earliest beginning in the 300’s A.D. The fast started as only a two-day fast, taking place on Friday to commemorate Jesus’ death, and on Saturday to remember the time spent in the tomb. Over time, the fast extended to the six days prior to Easter. By the mid 300’s A.D., some churches were observing a forty-day period, inspired by Moses’ forty days with God on Mount Sinai, Elijah’s forty-day sojourn to Mount Horeb, and Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness.

The word “Lent” comes from an Old English word “lencton,” which means the lengthening of the days, like what happens in the spring when increasing hours of sunlight make the days longer. More sunlight creates the right conditions for the sprouts of the next year’s growth to appear. The change of seasons in the natural world acts as a picture to us of the promise of new life through Christ’s resurrection.

We observe Lent hopeful of God’s plan to regenerate us, and yet aware of our mortality and sinfulness. When a minister says to us on Ash Wednesday, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” those words mean that we live for a certain amount of time, and then we will die. The ashes spread on our foreheads are a symbol of this mortality, and they are a sign of our desire to be honest with God about our sin.

The season of Lent has two goals. The first one is to lament the sin that placed Jesus on the cross. The second goal is a deeper personal understanding of the work Jesus did there. By his death, forgiveness and eternal life are secured for us.

When we take the time for lament and meditation, we see meaningful outcomes. I appreciate the season of Lent as one of the most significant periods of spiritual formation of the entire year. Lent helps us to make sense of our lives. We need the sort of reflection and lament that Lent offers in order to understand the purpose behind the things that happen to us, and also to grow secure in our identities as children of God. It’s vital to the well-being of our souls to look inward and admit our areas of vulnerability. As we progress in our journey of faith, we must look outward to weigh the cost of discipleship. As we come face to face with our behavior and motivations, we repent of our wrongdoing and turn toward God.

This is ultimately what we want for our lives. Each year, as Lent recurs, we move closer to God in our relationship with him, and we get a little farther along in the sanctification process. Lent doesn’t leave us unchanged. It is a season intended for restoration and healing. The themes of Lent help us understand that we must look to God for our salvation.

God loves us and he welcomes us. Romans 5:8 highlights the truth that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. This verse is from a larger passage in Romans 5 that relates to the themes of Lent because it mentions the benefits of salvation, such as the things we want to have and know will be ours through repentance. Romans 5 also mentions the things we know we need due to our sinfulness. We know that we can’t get any of them on our own and that saving help must come from somewhere outside of ourselves.

According to Romans 5, we have so many benefits given to us through faith. We have been justified. We have peace with God. He has given us the Holy Spirit and has poured out his love into our hearts. Christ died for us while we were powerless. We are saved from God’s wrath. We are reconciled and saved through the love of Christ.

Romans 5:6 says that Christ died for the ungodly. This is the point of our Lenten lament. Our sin cost Jesus his life. When we fully realize this, our hearts are touched with conviction. Then we turn away from sin and toward God.

This is as it should be. The only appropriate response to this act of love is repentance. Christ gave everything for us. We ought to choose to place him above everything and everyone else in our lives. He loves us deeply, completely, and with great passion. In Romans 5:5 it says God has poured his love into our hearts. We must keep our hearts open to him so that we have room for this love to enter us. Only with this help from God are we able to love Christ fully, in the way he deserves.

Romans 5:2 says we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Rejoicing flows out of our hope in God’s power to do for us what we can’t do for ourselves. We know the glory will come someday, but it hasn’t arrived yet. We are confident enough in its arrival that we celebrate now. The work has been done in Jesus’ death and resurrection. The payment is complete. We rejoice because God’s promises stand firm.

We’ve been justified through faith. We have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, and we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. So many benefits are ours because Christ died for us, the ungodly. As you observe the season of Lent this year, may it be a time of spiritual renewal bringing about change in your heart and in your life. May you grow in your understanding of the work that Jesus has done for you. By his death, forgiveness and eternal life have been secured for you.

Give thanks to the Lord for he is good. His love endures forever. Psalm 107:1

Ecclesiastes chapter 3 tells us there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven, such as birth and death, planting and harvest, weeping and laughing, and mourning and dancing. In the same spirit, I’d like to suggest that there is also a time for giving thanks.

The actual holiday arrives late in November, at the close of the fall season. The autumn time of year follows an order much like a worship service does. The prayers and confessions, statements of faith and benedictions used in the worship service are called the liturgy. Funeral services have them. Christmas and Easter services have them, as do each weekly service throughout the year.

Liturgy is commonly referred to as a work of the people. We as worshippers engage in the songs, the prayers, and the statements of faith. We don’t sit back and watch worship being done for us. Instead, it is accessible to us and carried out by us as the gathered body of Christ.

Through our participating we proclaim the gospel as God comes to meet us and his presence stays with us. The liturgy puts words and meaning to it as well as giving a bit of structure so that the work is accomplished at the proper time. By the end of each worship service a cohesive round of story, of confession, of declaration, and of praise has happened. It flows in order and holds a place in our ongoing sanctification.

The autumn season holds many of the same elements for me as an ordered service. Many opportunities for worship crop up in the months of September through November. I’m not just talking about the weekly Sunday services, although there continues to be a number of those. What I mean are the activities that bring meaning to our lives and help us sense the presence of God, like being in nature or spending time with family.

The fall season has always begun with marching band. I marched in the band when I was in high school. So did both of my sons. Now that they are graduated and gone to college, I find that I still need to follow the bands, to watcher their progress, and to enjoy their programs.

September, the weeks of early fall, are the days of warm sunshine and low humidity. Geese start to migrate. The humming birds leave. Even the birds follow their own order in the work of migrating with the changing of the seasons. The sunflowers are still blooming, and so are the mums. If I’m lucky, one more batch of rose buds will bloom and last into October.

Then the harvest begins as soybeans are picked. Apples turn red and are gathered for sauce and pies. The hostas are transplanted. The corn dries down and is brought in from the field. Grapes, pumpkins, squash, potatoes, and the last of the tomatoes are preserved and stored in preparation for cooler months.

The leaves turn colors and fall to the ground. Rakes and winds work together to move them off the lawn and away from flower beds. In among this mix of fall activities my birthday arrives, along with the birthdays of nieces and nephews. Fathers, uncles, and brothers vacate the combine seat long enough to enjoy cake with a cup of coffee or a Sunday family gathering.

The weather turns cool and the days shorten, ushering us into the month of November. There is an order, a flow to our work, and a structure of the harvest season that lends itself to praise as we see what God does on our behalf. Bringing in a harvest is our statement of faith that the seeds planted earlier in the year would provide an abundance. Prayers and confessions arise from our hearts as we spend time with those we care about, spurring one another on to good works.

The time for giving thanks arrives as the benediction to it all. It’s the blessing we give to God out of the awareness of the blessing he gives to us. It’s important to take time to truly express our gratitude for God’s mercy and his abundant ways of taking care of us. We must be intentional about pausing to focus on God’s grace to us, even if for one day.

The verse I quoted from Psalm 107 was written to those who had been gathered from captivity. They were restored to their own land from every part of the world. the psalm uses the metaphors of travel in a wilderness, prison, sickness, and storms at sea to tell the story of everything these redeemed ones had been through.

The refrain, “Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love,” repeats throughout the first half of Psalm 107. Every time, it is followed by a situation too large for the people to escape by themselves. The first time, in verse 9, thirst and hunger are mentioned. God rescued them by filling them with many good things. He looked after both their physical condition and their spiritual one. While satisfying their appetites, he offers them mercy and grace, forgiveness and redemption.

In verse 16, the refrain to give thanks is followed by the statement, “He breaks down gates of bronze and cuts through bars of iron.” God performed the impossible for the ones he redeemed. When they couldn’t break out of a prison of sin or destruction, God delivered. When they faced obstacles, God made a way.

In verse 22, the deepest most sincerest form of gratitude is called out of them. “Tell of his works with songs of joy.” God is our Heavenly Father full of love that never runs out and will never fail. He works wonderful deeds on behalf of those who trust in him.

This season of giving thanks invites us into the flow and the order of worship. The work we do becomes the service we offer to the Lord by our faith in him, our confession of his forgiveness, and the declaration of his truth. Our ordinary lives are turned into a liturgy of meaningful occupation and awareness of God’s presence. May we not only declare our thanks for God’s unfailing love, but also live it. Tell of his works with songs of joy. Follow his order. Flow in the grace of selfless worship. Share gratitude.

My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me. Matthew 26:38

An emotional Jesus wrestling with a horrid task is what we see in this verse from the scene that took place in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus knows what is ahead of him. From the time he entered Jerusalem on the colt, he could focus on driving money changers from the temple, teaching parables, and eating meals with friends.

Those things were all behind him now. Nothing stood between him and the cross. The trial with the Sanhedrin and the confrontation with Pilate would serve to speed his journey to the instrument of execution. Jesus pleads with his Father in desperation for any other way to accomplish atonement for sin. “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me” (Matthew 26:39).

But there is no other way. Only the death of God’s Son would satisfy the immense payment for sin.

So Jesus wrestles. He knows the truth, the reason for his coming, and yet his human self is in anguish over the levels of pain he will have to endure. This is why he took Peter, James, and John with him deeper into the shadows of the garden. He needed the support of his closest friends in order to meet the assignment set before him.

Flogging, thorns, nail holes in his hands and feet, and a sword’s slash to his side; all of this in addition to the mockery and shame. Jesus understood what the following day would bring.

Here in the garden stretched the span of time between the old and the new. During his last supper with the disciples, when he broke the bread and gave thanks, Jesus said to them, “Take and eat. This is my body” (Matthew 26:26).

And then after he’d taken a cup and given thanks, he gave it to them saying, “Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins? (Matthew 26:27-28).

On this day, three days before the Easter holiday, we celebrate a new commandment. The word Maundy, comes from the Latin mandatum novum, referring to the “new commandment” Jesus taught his disciples in which they were to love one another (John 13:34).

The events that unfolded throughout the day on this Thursday display to us both the love of Christ and the new commandment he has given. For Jesus, the day started with plans for a special meal with his friends, moved to a wrestle with God’s will, and ended with an arrest.

His sufferings, even in these hours before the cross, are a piece of our redemption. During that last supper, he instituted the sacrament of communion. In the garden, he submitted to God’s design for salvation, and during the arrest, he fulfilled the Scriptures that had been written about his coming.

According to this new commandment, freedom and love are ours. No longer will sin be our master, because we are not under the law, but under grace (Romans 6:14). The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 6:23).

This was the hidden victory won in Gethsemane. Because Jesus accepted the suffering and pain, we have the gift of God.

Count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus (Romans 6:11).

Prayer (A Collect for Maundy Thursday from the Book of Common Prayer)

Almighty Father, whose most dear Son, on the night before he suffered, instituted the sacrament of his body and blood, mercifully grant that we may receive it in thankful remembrance of Jesus Christ our Savior, who in these holy mysteries gives us a pledge of eternal life; and who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Psalm 23:5-6.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and the next day is Christmas. Colored lights hang on houses. Trees are decorated. Presents are wrapped. In my house, a lighted garland adorns the fireplace. Candles in the shades of red, green, and cream are set out. The next step in my preparations for the holiday is to set the table.

Our household of four celebrates the holiday on Christmas Eve with the opening of gifts, attending a church service (which will be on-line this year), and enjoying a feast. This means I must get busy giving attention to the food we will eat and also to the appearance of the table.

My Christmas table includes a set of china, goblets, cloth napkins, and a matching tablecloth. Candles and greenery form our centerpiece. Delicious smells of glazed ham and baked rolls complete the atmosphere. Visible from the living room is the Christmas tree with its glowing lights and sparkling ornaments. The family gathers to eat, to fellowship, and to celebrate.

I paint this picture with details from the De Bruin Christmas gathering to give us a glimpse into the gift God gives to us. Verse 5 of Psalm 23 tells us that he prepares a table for us. This imagery helps us understand God as our host. He plans ahead for our nourishment. He pays attention to details that will ensure our comfort. He fills us with good things so that we can taste and see that he is good.

Rest is found at God’s table. Satisfying communion with the Father and the Son happens around his table. Celebration of his character and his good gifts is the occasion that invites us to the table.

When we’ve settled in with God as our host and received what he wants to give us, the conflicts and hostilities of this life start to fade. Verse 5 tells us that this glorious table is set for us in the presence of our enemies.

God doesn’t wait for strife to cease or for conflicts to end before he prepares a table for us. Instead, he beckons us to come sit down with him while tensions and fights are still going on.

I find great comfort in this truth about God because, if your life happens to be like mine, the conflicts don’t ease up so that we can take a break for a day or two to have a happy celebration. Rather, they are still there in their attempts to distract or deceive, exhaust and defeat.

But God is there too. He restores, nourishes, strengthens, and tells the truth. Even while battles rage.

Are you facing down any enemies this Christmas? Are sickness or debt, depression or loneliness threatening to crowd in and rob you of a celebration? Maybe in those places of greatest fear or conflict, God is wanting to prepare a table for you.

Look for him. Expect him. Let him serve you as a waiter looks after the needs of guests. He might have some sort of mercy meant just for you hidden in his ministrations.

David certainly felt this way. While he sat at the table, God anointed him. The cup he’d been drinking from never went dry. Instead, it overflowed with joy and contentment. He is convinced that because of what he experienced at God’s table, goodness and mercy would follow him all the days of his life. This banquet laid out for him on the battlefield was a foretaste of the reality that awaited him. He will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Feasting and celebration and joy are the events of heaven. They never end. When we arrive there, we will get to participate in it. Forever.

Jesus came as a child in a manger, heralded by angels and worshiped by shepherds so that we might receive the promises of Psalm 23:5 and 6. They are ours starting today. The Christmas holiday draws us in. It is a starting point to leave behind the strain and the bondage of darkness, and to choose the lighted path of trust and rest. God is preparing a table for you in the presence of your enemies.