For every disciple, the first movement toward change was an encounter with Jesus. It was unforgettable. But it was divisive. Whoever met him was better or worse, but they were never the same. What role can the Church play in orchestrating these encounters? How does worship provide the space and the structure? And what must we do for ourselves?
To people living in the first century, the claims of the first Christians concerning the incarnation were scandalous. Here’s a handful that are so outrageous even Christians have a hard time believing them. Yet the gospels want us to practice them as we enter a season, Advent, that is all too familiar to us.
Advent Week 3 “In the Darkness” Sermon
As we look to scripture and the Incarnation itself, it gives us eyes to see our present moment through a new lens and move forward with anticipated hope.
This has to do with our purpose: What are my dreams? What do I want out of life? What kind of life is worth wanting? What desires occupy my thoughts and lead my ambitions?
For many, their humanity is a weakness: “I’m only human,” they say to excuse their last failure, yet the more of these failures they have the less human they become. What if Jesus, and not somebody else, is the measure of our humanity? What if God took on our flesh so that we, in our flesh, can be like God? But how? In his humanity, God makes demands upon our humanity, yet He offers freely to give us all that He demands.
For God so loved the world that He gave his only son. He didn’t “like” us on Facebook. He didn’t “click here” to show his support. He came and lived among us. He moved in. He took up our infirmities. He became what we are. He showed us that His comfort was worth sacrificing for our benefit. To be incarnate, then, is to be fully present in the community where we live, engaging in sacrificial love for the benefit of our neighbors.