by Hannah De Cleene | Dec 24, 2024 | Literature
As I hang our stockings with care,
I ponder life with a blank stare
Busy with thoughts and worries,
Always feeling in a hurry.
Some of us fill our minds with what-ifs,
Not just discovering rare perfect gifts
But wondering if the worst will come to be
Waiting for peace gifted under our tree.
Some of us fill our days with tasks,
Believing all our doing masks
The emptiness we feel,
Wondering if the gift of hope is real.
Some of us fill our thoughts with green-eyed intent
Wanting more and yet always discontent
Success becomes what we crave again and again
Wishing joy’s gift wasn’t forever detained.
As I pause to ask, “What good is this time of year?
Is it only to highlight our failures and fears?
Can the birth of this Child,
The one called meek and mild,
Offer something more?
Is there something I haven’t considered before?”
God sent His only Son as an infant,
That alone makes this story different.
He didn’t arrive as a mighty warrior
Defeating Israel’s enemies.
He didn’t come as a political powerhouse
Deafening high society’s murmurings.
He didn’t emerge as a wise philosopher,
Debating all the questions of the intelligentsia.
Instead, He had a beginning akin to ours.
He grew from a single cell,
Demonstrating a different kind of power.
He grew as a boy to dwell
Among His own people until the hour
He would sacrifice Himself for mankind,
Exactly as His Father had designed.
From infancy to manhood,
He lived as we lived,
Struggled as we struggled.
He saw how hope diminished, joy deflated, and contentment disappeared.
But unlike us, joy flourished in His soul.
He knew that He alone could make us whole.
The Sinless One from above,
Defined the true meaning of love
He lived the same struggles we face,
Died to offer forgiveness and grace
And rose again to defeat our sin
Granting us the gift of peace within
That’s why this time of year,
Brings to life such great cheer.
He heals our weary souls
With joy to make us whole.
“What good is this time of year?
It does more than highlight our failures and fears.
The One called meek and mild
Offers man a chance to be reconciled.
His birth offers us more.
That’s what I didn’t consider before.
His arrival was just the start
Of how He would heal our hopeless hearts.
For this Child brought what God decreed
Salvation for sinners—man’s greatest need.
Hope arrived for all the earth
With the coming of our Savior’s birth.
by Hannah De Cleene | Dec 24, 2024 | Theology
In our age of technology, we are bombarded with picture upon picture of the “good life”— the idyllic home, the growing family, the prestigious promotion, etc., and while those things in themselves are not wrong, sometimes our desires for what others have can become all-consuming, filling us with discontentment. As we look again in Luke 1, Elizabeth undoubtedly knew the stings of comparison.
Scripture tells us she was righteous, blameless, yet unmistakably barren, remaining obedient while longing for a child.
Most of us know the aches of waiting in our own ways. Perhaps you are waiting for a career to start, for a spouse to come along, or for a family to start. And in that waiting, people often give us their opinions, which at times can be helpful but many times end up being salt in our wounds. The people in Elizabeth’s time didn’t appear to offer the most encouraging words in her years of waiting.
The Taunt of Others
There is but one verse about Elizabeth in this scenario, and these words explain much of her story. In response to hearing about Zechariah’s visit from Gabriel (Luke 1:1-23), she responds with gratefulness.
Thus the Lord has done for me in the days when he looked on me, to take away my reproach among people. (1:25)
To take away my reproach among people. The word “reproach” carries the idea of disgrace, even taunt, and this isn’t the first time in Scripture that reproach has been connected with a woman’s barrenness.
In Genesis, Rachel is finally given the gift of a child:
She conceived and bore a son and said, “God has taken away my reproach.” (30:23)
In 1 Samuel, Hannah is struggling with her barrenness, along with taunts from her husband’s second wife.
And her rival used to provoke her grievously to irritate her, because the Lord had closed her womb (1:6)
Have you ever felt the taunt or disapproval of others? As children, we can think of the quintessential bully from childhood: the cool kid belittling the nerdy genius and Miss Popular spreading rumors about the new girl. Our experience in adulthood may not be as dramatic, but we feel the reproach of others when they bask in their amazing career or flaunt their picture-perfect home—feelings of inferiority creep in as we stand next to them.
My years of singleness taught me a lot about the opinions of others. For years I wondered if God would bring the right man along as I longed to be a wife and a mom. My best friends were getting married and having babies—why couldn’t that be me? My thoughts were filled with comparison, adding weight to my ache. On top of that, I was met with comments like “Have you tried online dating? Are you being too picky? You know Hannah, you might just be too intimidating.” I often let this commentary fuel my discontentment.
Elizabeth’s Response to God’s Timing
I am not sure what kind of critiques filled Elizabeth’s years of waiting for a child or if she struggled much with comparison. She knew the battle of wanting a good thing, and yet at the same time, Elizabeth led a godly life (Luke 1:6). The words that come from her mouth in this narrative continually point to God’s goodness. In verse 25, Elizabeth echoes the words of the faithful women who have gone before her, relishing in the joy that God looked upon her, just like He took notice of Hagar in Genesis 16, Sarah in Genesis 21, and Hannah in 1 Samuel 1. And He didn’t just notice her but looked on her with favor — this phrase means to fix one’s gaze upon, to look at with concern, to regard. She cherished that God had seen her and cared about her disposition.
And not only did Elizabeth praise God for seeing her, but she also did not compare her blessing with Mary’s. Later in Luke 1, when Mary comes to Elizabeth, Elizabeth praises God for His work in Mary’s life. “And how is it granted to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?… Blessed is she who believed there would be a fulfillment of the word spoken to her from the Lord.”
I find this remarkable because Elizabeth had more years of obedience than young Mary and likely walked through the shame and pity from others for her barrenness. But Elizabeth rejoiced in God’s timing in her life and Mary’s, showing a grateful and contented heart.
The People
I’ve often wondered why Elizabeth kept herself in seclusion for the first five months of her pregnancy. One possibility is that she knew people wouldn’t believe her if she told them of her pregnancy. If I had been one of her neighbors, what would my response have been? Would I have presumed her barrenness was a curse from God? Would I have looked down on her, and like Job’s friends, assumed she must have had some secret sin to cause her childlessness? I know my heart, so the likelihood of these kinds of thoughts would have been high.
Isn’t it easier to critique than sit with someone in their struggle? We offer quick solutions or commentaries and somehow feel superior, assuming we would respond much better if we found ourselves in the same situation. We fool ourselves. James tells us that every good gift we have is from above (James 1:17). Instead of judging or brazenly assuming we have greater wisdom than those around us, in Romans 12 God calls us to weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice, an often harder task, but one that Elizabeth exemplifies beautifully.
The Contented Waiter
Elizabeth offers us both encouragement and a challenge. Encouragement is found in knowing God sees us in our waiting, just like He saw Elizabeth. No painful comment or lonely night escapes His attention. But Elizabeth’s reaction also brings a challenge as her response revealed a grateful, contented heart; she entrusted her life to God’s care and goodness all while living in daily obedience, thanking God for His work in her life and those around her.
What Fills Us
As we come to the close of this Advent season, we hope you can relate a little more to a familiar story. Despair, fear, apathy, and comparison— these reactions are common to our hearts. And while the shape of our struggles may be different, our selfishness and self-reliance fill us all with sin. Yet as Paul exclaims in Ephesians 2, “ But God.” Our God rich in mercy showed us His love through His Son, the One who came as a baby. He lived among us so that He might take our place, die for us, and offer an escape from sin’s chains. Only through a relationship with Him can we ever be filled with things like hope, wonder, anticipation, and contentment (and so much more). May the words of this beloved carol fill our souls this Christmas.
God rest ye merry gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
Remember Christ our Savior
Was born on Christmas Day
To save us all from Satan’s pow’r
When we were gone astray
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
by Hannah De Cleene | Dec 17, 2024 | Theology
Maybe your introduction to the Magi of Matthew 2 was similar to mine—more musical than theological. As a child, the Christmas carol, “We Three Kings of Orient Are” told me there were three kings to go with the three gifts mentioned in the song: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Logically, I thought there must have been three camels (even though most nativity sets only come with one or two) and concluded they were thoughtful men coming a long way with some unusual baby gifts. As I grew up, I learned from hearing my pastor preach on the account in Matthew 2 that these men were important historical figures, and probably came with an impressive entourage. I did not realize, until a recent dig into some of our old seminary reference books, (The Zondervan Pictorial Encyclopedia of the Bible, in case you are interested) the extent of their power and impact.
Those columns filled with historical information told more than we have time or space for here, but a few of those facts deepened my understanding of these men and their mission.
The Magi showed up in history in the 7th Century BC as an emerging tribe and in the 6th century became heads of the state religion by declaration of the king of the Medes. Most of us, however, find this combination of Chaldeans, Medes, and Persians doesn’t capture our attention until we read the book of Daniel and realize that the Jewish people are also intertwined with these nations. Daniel, captured by the Babylonians and trained in all their knowledge, eventually held high office among the Magi and was appointed their chief, or Rab Mag (Daniel 4:9). Still, he never abandoned his faith in the One, True God.
The writings of Daniel and Isaiah were both available to the Magi we read about in Matthew 2, not as three kings on camels, but as powerful, religious/political leaders, complete with military escort, seeking the king foretold hundreds of years in the past. Their motivation may have been academic curiosity, or political power, seeking a king they thought they might be able to install to their benefit. Whatever their reasons, they believed the prophecy and came to Jerusalem in complete anticipation of finding a king.
What about the religious leaders already in place in Jerusalem? We first hear of them in Matthew 2:4-6. Herod, in his terror of being overthrown by another king, called for the chief priests and scribes. Who were they?
In the Old Testament, the priests were entrusted with ministering at the altar, burning sacrifices, and teaching the law (Deuteronomy 33:8-10). The scribes were not simply those who wrote but were essentially interpreters of the law. One author called them men “schooled in the law and religious wisdom, understanding the implications of both written law and oral traditions.” As experts in the Law and the Prophets, we’d expect some sort of reaction from them at the Magi’s arrival. Instead, when a terrified Herod demanded information from the chief priests and scribes, they rattled off:
‘And you, O Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a ruler
who will shepherd my people Israel.’”
but even the possibility that the prophesied King of Kings had arrived does not appear to have rattled them. After 400 years of God’s silence, there is no evidence that the chief priests and scribes traveled the five or six miles from Jerusalem to Bethlehem to investigate what should have been the most exciting news of their lives. Instead, the next time we find the chief priests and scribes mentioned in Matthew, they are no longer apathetic. This Jesus did not fit the image they had of the Messiah, and twice He tells the disciples He would suffer and be killed at the hands of the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and by the end of the book of Matthew, we see the chief priests among those plotting His death. Thankfully, both times Jesus told of his coming death he ended with, “and he will be raised on the third day.” The apathy that turned to murderous anger still did not stop the plan of God for our salvation.
What About Us?
In a recent sermon about the virgin birth, our pastor said, “It was not a human decision, but God’s decision to humble the world by using humble people.” Thankfully, there is also room for the rich and powerful, like the Magi, if they are willing to humble themselves before God and receive His gift of salvation. We may not know what fueled their anticipation to find the King, but we know that when they found Him, the Magi fell down in worship and obeyed the instructions not to return to Herod.
I’d love to say I have nothing in common with the chief priests and scribes, experts in the Scriptures, yet unmoved when the Truth arrived in human flesh. I would love to say that, but sometimes I overly anticipate the wrong thing and can be apathetic about the truth that should change me. I pray that meditation on this passage will humble us in worship like the Magi, and apathy is replaced with celebration of our Savior’s birth and anticipation of His coming again.
by Hannah De Cleene | Dec 10, 2024 | Theology
Fear is an emotion common to man, so common that the command most often repeated in Scripture is some form of “fear not.” But, fear isn’t always sinful. A friend recently shared that when she lived in upstate New York, coyotes ran rampant near her family’s farm, and more than once, she started to open the back door only to see a coyote standing on her porch. Healthy, God-given fear told her NOT to open the door, and she wisely listened! In a recent article, “Fear is Not Sin” Dr. Ed Welch said:
Fear and what we do with our fear are two different things. Fear is natural; our responses to fear can be more complicated and are best assessed by whether they turn us toward the Lord or not.
In the account of Jesus’ birth, we see two different responses to fear: first, the shepherds and then King Herod.
Shepherds (Luke 2:8-10)
In the Old Testament, the role of the shepherd was humble work, but not despised. Moses, Jacob, and David were all shepherds and David refers to the Lord as his shepherd in Psalm 23. In the New Testament, Jesus is called the Good Shepherd (John 10:11, 14). All of this sounds very positive to me, but by the time of Jesus’ birth, shepherds were not highly respected. The constant care needed by the sheep did not allow the shepherds time for ceremonial washing or keeping the Sabbath, so they were considered unclean by the religious leaders of the day.
These men—humble, hardworking, and disregarded—were the people chosen to receive the announcement of Jesus’ birth from the angels, not the social elite. As pastor and theologian, Warren Wiersbe said,
Shepherds are not easily fooled. They are practical men of the world who have little to do with fantasy. If they said that they saw angels and went and found the Messiah, then you could believe them. God selected hard-working men to be the first witnesses that His Son had come into the world.
And yet, what was the first response of these practical, hardworking men?
They were filled with great fear.
They weren’t just a little startled; the Greek word used for fear is phobeo which is the root of our word, phobia. These strong men were terrified, but to be fair, they did not have our experience with technicolor movies, CGI, or computerized drones dancing in the sky. There in the darkness, with only the light of the stars around them, they witnessed the arrival of an angel announcing, “…unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” followed by a full angel choir joining in to sing the most amazing news ever: “Glory to God in the Highest…”
And what did they do after experiencing this glorious terror? Their fear turned to excitement and excitement to action, as they hurried to see “this thing the Lord has made known unto us.”
Their position at the bottom of the social ladder did not stop them from sharing the good news with all who would listen.
King Herod (Matthew 2:1-3)
Herod’s response to the birth of Christ came later, but his fear was no less profound.
When the Magi (more on them in future posts) arrived asking to see “the one born king of the Jews,” this was no neighborly visit from a few religious folks. These were influential men, referred to by one historian as a powerful “group of Persian-Parthian king makers.” As Herod was only king by appointment of Caesar Augustus, and his kingdom was a “rebellious buffer state…situated between two mighty, contending nations,” he had good reason to fear.
.
Scripture tells us Herod was “troubled” at this news. “Troubled” sounds mild to our ears, but the original word carries the idea of churning, turbulent water. History shows Herod the Great as a ruthless man, killing at least three sons and his favorite wife in fits of paranoia. It is then no surprise that consumed with fear that the Magi might actually dethrone him in favor of this newborn king, he threw all of Jerusalem into turmoil, ordering the death of hundreds of children. Herod’s murderous response to his fear brought overwhelming grief to the people that he, as king, should have “shepherded” but he did not.
Unable to stop the plan of God, Herod failed and eventually died of an excruciating illness. In fear he sought to save his life and his kingdom, but eventually lost both.
What About Us?
What, then, do we do with our fears? Do we, as Herod, turn inward seeking to protect ourselves and build our own kingdoms? Or, do we, as the shepherds, turn to the Lord, and allow fears to be turned to wondrous faith that cannot be kept to ourselves?
“Unto you is born this day…a Savior, who is Christ the Lord!”
by Hannah De Cleene | Dec 3, 2024 | Theology
I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want is to be filled with despair. What if when someone describes me, they say, “She is nice enough, but kind of an Eeyore .” Eek. Yet, isn’t it easy to look at the negative side of life? I can fill my daily commentary with a gloomy tone if I am not careful. “That line at the grocery store went on for miles.” “Since when did getting an oil change take so long?” “Buying Christmas gifts for everyone on my list is so expensive.”
These small comments may not sound like the depths of despair (to quote one of my favorite Anne of Green Gables lines), but they add up and before I know it, I end the day in a humdrum spirit, completely missing the joy God offers so freely.
Zechariah
In Luke 1, we are introduced to Zechariah. As a priest with a godly wife, God bestowed on him many kind blessings; but one thing was not bestowed— a son. This burden of childlessness had not escaped God’s attention for He knew Zechariah’s grief, his struggle, and He had a plan to use them both.
Zechariah’s Response to a Miracle
IIn Luke 1, Gabriel comes and proclaims to Zechariah that he will finally have a son.
The angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John. And you will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great before the Lord. (1:13-14)
What a miracle, what a gift.
But what was Zechariah’s response to Gabriel’s announcement? “How shall I know this?” He wanted further proof, and this response also demonstrates his blindness to God’s blessings in this whole encounter.
- Zechariah was chosen by lot to enter the temple and burn incense — this was a BIG deal and usually only happened once in a priest’s lifetime.
- An angel appeared — God had been seemingly silent for years and now He sends one of His messengers
- Gabriel used his name, and his wife Elizabeth’s — God knew them by name
- Your prayer has been heard — confirmation God was paying attention all along
Zechariah daringly asks for further confirmation, but then again… don’t we all? Instead of looking at the many wonderful, detailed ways God has provided for us and answered prayers, we fixate on the what-ifs and likely impossibilities. We long for writing in the sky while neglecting the promises already written in His word. We isolate ourselves in search of wisdom and forsake fellowship with a godly community, and I must confess I fail to see God’s gifts in my life just like Zechariah.
However, as we continue reading Luke 1, we see that he is not the only one who receives a message from Gabriel. And this young girl is filled with anything but despair.
Mary’s Response to a Miracle
This time Gabriel is sent to a betrothed young woman, Mary, to announce another unlikely blessing, one even more incredible than the message delivered to Zechariah.
Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. (1:30-32)
And yet what does she say in response to her message? How will this be, not can. She may not have understood exactly how this would occur as she was still a virgin, but she didn’t doubt. In faith, she asks the angel to help her understand, and she receives more details on the miracle to come and ends this conversation with “May it be as you say. I am the servant of the Lord.”
How could Mary, likely a 12 to 15-year-old girl, be filled with such joy? A belief in the promises of God. She didn’t just acknowledge them but hid them in her heart.
Mary’s Magnificat is well-known and overflowing with truths from the Old Testament. Compare her prayer with Hannah’s in 1 Samuel 2, and you will quickly find similarities. And, as you continue to examine the phrases she uses, you will uncover not just well-worded praise but a deep knowledge of Scripture.
- The God of my salvation—“Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” Hab 3:18.
- The Mighty One—“The Mighty One, God the Lord, speaks and summons the earth from the rising of the sun to its setting.” Psalm 50:1
- He who has done great things for me—“The Lord your God is in your midst, a victorious warrior. He will exult over you with joy, He will be quiet in His love, He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy.” Zeph 3:17
- His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation—“I will establish My covenant between Me and you and your descendants after you throughout their generations for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your descendants after you.” Genesis 17:7; “So great is His lovingkindness toward those who fear Him.” Psalm 103:11
This is just a small sampling of Mary’s knowledge of the Word. She knew the character of her God, filling her heart and soul with the truth, which produced great joy in her countenance.
I can’t imagine that the next steps in her journey were easy. She likely had to tell her parents the news, and Joseph. Before Joseph received his own message from an angel, he intended to break off the engagement! (Matthew 1:19) But from what we see in Scripture, Mary remained steadfast in her joy.
Hope for Us Zechariahs
Even though I love Mary’s response, I fear I’m more likely to respond like Zechariah and quickly ask the what-ifs and brace myself for the worst-case scenario. Thankfully, Scripture offers hope to us, the Zechariahs of the world.
For nine months, Zechariah could not speak, but when he did, what a change of disposition. His words were filled with praise! His prophetic song also contains connections to the promises of God as he speaks beautiful, poetic words to his son regarding his role in announcing Jesus’ arrival.
For you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people in the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace. (1:76-79)
Finally, Zechariah and Mary had something in common—they both rejoiced in the God of their salvation. And so can we.
I too gloss over the promises of God too quickly, but this reality remains: I am an imperfect sinner who needs a savior. Every day I can choose to be filled with doubt, supposing God is done working in my life, like Zechariah. Or, like Mary, I can gaze at my Savior, filled with joy that I get to walk with the Mighty One who has indeed done great things for me.