Looking for a sign?
“The Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Emmanuel – which means ‘God with us’.” – Isaiah 7:14
I can’t count how many times in a year that I find myself waiting on God to speak, asking him to show me where to turn next, to give me a sign, a glimpse of where I am meant to be headed next. I’m sure I’m not alone; “My soul waits on the Lord more than a watchman waits for the morning”, is how Psalm 136 puts it.
And once a year – unfailingly, rhythmically, predictably - before the secular celebration of New Years Eve prompts us to evaluate our past and make plans for our future: God speaks to us, loud and clear. It’s not as immediate or direct an answer as some of us would like, is it. We’re thinking more about who to marry, which state to move to, which career path to follow, which school to send our kids to, how to make enough money to get by etc. Essentially ‘where to next Lord - for me?’
“In the past God spoke to our ancestors through his prophets, at many times and in various ways. But in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son.” (Heb 1:1-2)
God has already spoken. The Lord has given us a sign and it’s the only one we really need. We could go anywhere next year, do anything, take up any path and it wouldn’t really matter. Our hearts are so occupied by the things of this world that we ask too-small questions, lesser questions. Like Herod racing around frantically worrying he was going to lose power, we’re racing around shopping centers worrying about buying enough presents, or finishing work for the year or doing the yard work or getting away for a holiday.
There is an alternative to being distracted by the world. We could be like the wise men who looked to the sky and “set our hearts on things above, where Christ is seated” (Coll 3:1-2). The Lord has given us a sign, a star to guide our journey that doesn’t shift according to the seasons; a sign that leads - time and again, year after year - to our truest answer and speaks to our deepest need.
Emmanuel – I am with you.
Everywhere you go I am with you. Every decision you face, every trial you carry, every question you ask, in every season of life, I will be with you in it. I come to save you. I am the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. It’s the meaning of my name and why I came.
“And this will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” - Luke 2:12
It’s said the reason this was such a ‘sign’ for the shepherds of Bethlehem is because the unblemished lambs prepared for sacrifice in Jerusalem were taken from their flocks and wrapped in this way. The parallel would have been stark.
This is the word you and I need to hear this year and every year. No mistake you have made, nothing you have stumbled in this year, no regret you carry within yourself can separate you from the Father. Jesus came to take care of all that. Mercy and forgiveness poured out like frankincense, up for the asking, yours for the taking, for all who dare to believe, from shepherds to kings. The scandal of grace; that’s the deal.
Come home, the Father is waiting. I don’t know whose home you will be travelling to this year, or if you’re preparing your home to welcome others into it, but this is the one table we are all invited to. Especially if you think you are the furthest away, the least deserving. To you Jesus says, Friend, move up higher. You blink and look around. Me? Yes, especially you.
Royalty in rags. Divinity embracing humanity. Power embracing weakness. God embracing his lost children by becoming one.
Let’s lift our hearts higher and look beyond the immediate this week. This is the sign our eyes really need to see, the answer our hearts truly need to hear. This is the word God has spoken; the incarnation of his Son, who has made his home among us, right in the middle of our mess, in the form of a fragile baby. Royalty in rags. Divinity embracing humanity. Power embracing weakness. God embracing his lost children by becoming one like us.
This sign speaks volumes. The cry from the manger is deafening. Can you hear it?