Advent 1: Waiting in the Gaze of God

O that you would tear open the heavens and come down. Isaiah 64:1a (NRSV)
Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved.  Psalm 80:3 (NRSV)

These are desperate times.

Sexual assault and harassment exposed.

Slave auctions in Libya.

A cruel tax bill that favors the rich.

These are desperate times, so we cry “O Come O Come Emmanuel!”

And we wait for righteousness and justice to prevail.

If we prayed hard enough, would God step out of the sky to confront and correct all injustice with a divine wave of the hand?   We could pray along with the Psalmist who says:

“Restore us, O God, let your face shine, that we may be saved.”

But would we know what we are actually praying?  The loving luminous gaze of God is an amazing thing, but is nothing to be played with.  It guides our steps and infiltrates our souls.  It encourages but it also exposes.  This is the road to restoration, but will we take that journey?

Perhaps there is another plan at work to answer our prayers, like when Jesus came down as the Incarnate God, not by stepping out of the sky but by showing up in the womb of a young woman from Nazareth.

In the midst of unchecked abuse of power and its consequences, Advent asks us:
Who will we be and what will we do on Christ’s behalf?

Your Call: How are you being called to represent Christ during these troubling times as Advent begins?

Legacy, Part 2

CC Image courtesy of Lane 4 Imaging on Flickr

As I look at pictures from the recent MLK memorial dedication, the 30 foot tall statue of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. seems larger than life.  So it is with the notion of legacy, especially when you consider all that Dr. King accomplished before the age of 40.

Reflecting upon the lives of those who have made a notably “visible” impact in the world can be inspiring and overwhelming at the same time.  Now that I’m forty-something, my perspective on legacy is being tested and is surely evolving in this season of my life. Anyone in any kind of leadership role knows the temptation to measure legacy by visibility.

Truth be told, Dr. King’s legacy was strengthened by many who were relatively less visible:  Rosa Parks, Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth, Fannie Lou Hamer, and Ella Baker, to name a few. And even less visible:  21 teachers (my mother included) in Elloree, SC, who resigned rather than renounce their NAACP memberships.

Perhaps legacy begins when we act on opportunities to plant seeds of eternity along the way, wherever our journeys take us.  A few months ago, I posted a blog in tribute to my father that spoke of his legacy in a metaphorical way.  To be more concrete, I can say that my father modeled a willingness to question, intellectual curiosity, awareness of what’s going on in the world, not being caught up in popularity or pretension, and love of family and friends.  Not that I’ve mastered these values by any means, but they serve as a compass for me nevertheless.

CC Image courtesy of VoiceBrazil on Flickr

As I’ve studied and taught on Luke’s account of the Gospel for the past few weeks, I am struck by Jesus’ willingness to become human in such an unassuming way.  He could have simply showed up grown and regal, but chose another path, immersing Himself into the vulnerability of the human experience. Jesus did not shrink back from moving in visible ways or acknowledging His identity, but He did so on His own terms, leaving a legacy of love, redemption and empowerment for us to follow.  While this legacy is also larger than life, it also transcends our limitations and shows us where to start: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  Love your neighbor as yourself. Act justly. Love mercy. Walk humbly with your God.

Your Call: If someone were commissioned to sculpt an image that represented you, what would you want it to look like?  What do you want to be remembered for?  How can you be more intentional about leaving a meaningful legacy?