The vitality of Christ's coming

Barbara Sampson considers the deeper meaning of the Advent season. Part 3 of 3

A birth notice is usually a simple matter, announced within a few days of a baby’s arrival. ‘Ron and Melissa are proud to announce the birth of Sophie, a little sister for Jack and Charlie.’The announcement of Jesus’ birth came, strangely enough, hundreds of years before it actually happened:

The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned …
For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:2–7)

The prophet Isaiah, writing hundreds of years before the birth of Jesus, told exactly who Jesus would be and what he would do. He would come to bring life and light to all those who walk in darkness.

I know some of these darkness-walkers. In fact, I worship regularly with them on a Sunday. There’s Don, for example. Brought down by the demon drink, he lost his marriage, his relationship with his sons and the respectable job he once held.

There’s Ian, laid low by anger built into him as a kid when his parents and others treated him as a piece of scum, a nuisance, a mistake. Using his fists to communicate, Ian’s anger landed him in jail time and again. ‘Sentenced to 10 months, out in five,’ he told me. ‘Or six months, out in three, or eight months, out in four.’ That was the pattern, in and out, in and out, never learning, never changing.

Then there’s Josie, whose downfall was men as she was always looking for a father figure to replace the father who had betrayed her, sold her a lie—a whole pack of lies, in fact.

Don, Ian, Josie are just a few of the crowd who gather on a Sunday to worship a God who knows about darkness, temptations and brokenness (Hebrews 4:15).

The amazing thing about these people is that they have each had a moment of awakening, a realisation that brought them to a turning point, a change, what the Bible calls ‘metanoia’, repentance.

Don’s turning point came through a godly woman who saw beyond the booze to a man with potential. She gave him a meal, offered him a job and helped him find his dignity again. Now, 15 years on from his last drink, Don still gives thanks every day for that woman. ‘She saved my life,’ he tells me often.

For Ian, the awakening was just that—a moment when he opened his eyes wider than they had ever been before and he saw the mess he was in. ‘I just got sick of it,’ he says, amazed both at the change in himself and how long he had lived in a kind of daze. Charting a new path away from the prison gates was not easy. He slept rough for a time, then in a garage infested with mice. ‘I fed them in the hope they would leave my food alone,’ he says, ‘but it didn’t work.’ His great good news on a recent Sunday was that he had found a place to live and, for the first time in his life, he will have a home to call his own.

For Josie, the change came through a simple phrase that she heard—audibly or not, she cannot remember—but as clearly as someone speaking to her. ‘Don’t stop searching, I’m here for you.’ Wherever the voice came from, it landed in a deep place in her heart and suddenly she knew she had found the love she had for so long been searching. Josie’s face shows the strain of her hard life, but her eyes now tell a new story of vitality, hope restored and love found. She now has a new purpose, or rather a new Person, to live for.

I’m not broken like these people. I’ve only ever been in jail to visit someone. I’ve never got drunk. I’ve been blessed with good parents, a loving husband, great kids and grandchildren. But the darkness of sin has still left its marks on my life. I too have needed an awakening, a turning point, an experience of metanoia repentance. It’s now in the company of my broken friends on a Sunday that we sing together the songs of healing and hope.

‘I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind but now I see.’
‘Something beautiful, something good
All my confusion he understood.
All I had to offer him was brokenness and strife
But he made something beautiful out of my life.’

Praise God, he’s brought us each home to a new way of life rich beyond imagining, a place of abundance and hope! The light that shattered the darkness has put together the broken pieces of our hearts. Songwriter Chris Tomlin declares it this way:

Light of the world you stepped down into darkness
Opened my eyes, let me see
Beauty that made this heart adore you
Hope of a life spent with you.
Here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
Here I am to say that you’re my God
You’re altogether lovely, altogether worthy,
Altogether wonderful to me.
King of all days, oh so highly exalted
Glorious in heaven above
Humbly you came to the earth you created
All for love’s sake became poor …

Wherever we look there are examples of people being set free from darkness and stepping out into the light.

Through the generous giving and prayers of God’s people, a man in Cambodia is given a donkey to help him do his farm work more productively. Young women on the streets of Bangkok are rescued from prostitution, given a safe place to live and taught how to sew goods for sale. A babies’ home in Uganda provides love and care, clothing and education for abandoned or orphaned babies who would otherwise have no chance to thrive, or even survive. A village well is dug, a school is built and furnished, a hospital equipped—and the whole community benefits.

Closer to home, a man just released from prison came to a Salvation Army centre for budgeting help. The budgeter told me, ‘We worked for six months on his anger issues, but once we got those sorted, his finances fell into place with no difficulty.’

An alcoholic finally gives in and admits he has a problem. Seeking help, he finds sobriety, his life restored and a whole new faith-filled way of living. ‘I don’t know much about miracles,’ he says, ‘but I know God turned my beer into furniture.’

A woman gives her testimony in a Sunday service. ‘When I was little I played with little toys,’ she says. ‘When I grew up I gave away my little toys and started playing with big toys. But they were bad toys: alcohol, drugs, gambling. I lost everything, even my children. In linking up with God’s people I’m learning everything new. How to dress myself properly, how to organise my life. In coming to this church I have found people who care for me. I had a dream of a green tree—it was my family. The tree blossomed. It was a promise that they would come back. Now I have my children and grandchildren back again. I have nothing to lose, because I had already lost everything. Now I have everything to gain. I get up in the mornings, have a karakia, read the Bible, start the day with God and everything is different.’

So Jesus continues to come bringing life, giving hope, transforming empty lives into lives of vibrancy and purpose.

He came to give us life in all its fullness,
He came to make the blind to see,
He came to banish death and doubt and darkness,
He came to set his people free.
He liberating love imparted,
He taught men once again to smile;
He came to bind the broken-hearted,
And God and man to reconcile …    

These are the true gifts of Christmas, the richest blessings of this Advent season. What difference does his coming make to you? What vitality do you gain from Jesus, whose names can be written with every letter of the alphabet?

Advocate, Bread of life, Counsellor, Deliverer, Encourager, Faithful Friend, Grace-bringer, Helper, Instructor, Joy, Kinsman, Light, Majesty, Nourisher, Overcomer, Prince of Peace, Queller-of-Storms, Redeemer, Saviour, Teacher, Upholder, Vine, Well-Spring, ‘X’ (used as the first letter of the Greek word ‘Christos’ for Christ) Yahweh, Zealous.

At the end of the birth account in Luke’s gospel (Luke 2:21–40) is the story of two elderly people who waited long years for ‘the consolation of Israel’—meaning the comfort and redemption that the Messiah would bring to his people. Simeon and Anna spent years in the temple waiting, praying, hoping, fasting, worshipping. Some inner certainty held them in the place where they expected to see the Saviour come. When they saw him, they recognised him.

How did they know what the Saviour would look like? Why did they never give up waiting? It seems that they had hearts softened, moulded and shaped by their years of worship and attentiveness to God, always being in the place of waiting and expectation.

In the moment that Joseph and Mary brought in baby Jesus to dedicate him to the Lord and to offer their sacrifice of thanksgiving, Simeon and Anna recognised the baby for who he was. The One they had watched and prayed and longed for. The One sent to live among the darkness-walkers of the world and to bring them light.

May we too have an expectant, open-hearted stance this Christmas, standing on tiptoes and watching for his coming. May we recognise Jesus in the many ways he comes to those whose hearts are responsive and ready to receive him. May we rejoice once again that ‘a child has been born—for us! The gift of a son—for us! He’ll take over the running of the world. His names will be: Amazing Counsellor, Strong God, Eternal Father, Prince of Wholeness’ (Isaiah 9, The Message).

How deep the Saviour’s coming
in vulnerability and loss!
How high the priceless value,
this holy Advent cost!
How vital is his presence
how glorious his reign
We bow in adoration
And bless the Saviour’s name.

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by Barbara Sampson (c) 'War Cry' magazine, Christmas 2015, pp 20-21.
You can read 'War Cry' at your nearest Salvation Army church or centre, or subscribe through Salvationist Resources.