Just a couple of weeks ago, I sat next to Aunt Myrtle’s hospital bed. We were talking and laughing about all sorts of things. She was telling me a story about her life and the people around her. As she was listing names, she stopped. “I… I can’t remember the person’s name.” With her sweet eyes, she looked at me and said, “Whenever I’m praying, and I can’t remember a person’s name, I just remember that the only name I need to remember is the Lord’s.”

Without trying, Aunt Myrtle always taught me valuable lessons, and that day, even in her frailty and weakness, lying on a hospital bed, she taught me another one. There is nothing compared to knowing Jesus.

Myrtle Berglund’s name was synonymous with longevity. 102 astounding years. Even in her final days, she was lucid and entertaining. She was always charming, kind, and playful. My children loved it when she sat on her walker and they pushed her around the cafe after church. In my eight years at New Hope Chapel, she has always greeted me with cheerfulness and sincerity.

When I last saw Aunt Myrtle in the hospital, I asked her how she was doing. She took a deep breath, and with all sorts of wires and tubes coming from her body, she said, “I have nothing to complain about.” “Wow,” I thought, “I manage to complain about all sorts of things, yet this woman confined to a hospital bed has found contentment.”

As I sat with Barbara, Chuck, and Carolyn the other night – three people who gave her tremendous care throughout the last fifteen plus years, we looked through Myrtle’s Bible for anything she might have highlighted. Sure enough, we found a number of passages, including Philippians 4:12-14 – “Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose. Do everything without grumbling or arguing…”

I realize Paul wrote those verses, but it just as well could have been Aunt Myrtle.

I imagine it must be difficult to grow old. It must be lonely to watch friends and family pass away over the years. It must be depressing to lose your mobility and disparaging dealing with the pains that come with age. Yet despite those things, Myrtle lived with a sense of purpose. The last time I saw her, she said, “I thought it was time to go home, but I guess God still has things for me to do. So many people still don’t know Him.”

What keeps you going every day? Is it your health, family, friends, your job, your possessions, something else that you’re involved in? How about Jesus? Is He the purpose of your life? Although Aunt Myrtle had a great, long life and the best care, we don’t remember her for her job, her wealth, her house, or the type of car she drove. For many of us, Myrtle was well into her nineties when she entered our lives. What we remember is her gentle heart, her love for Jesus, and the encouragement she brought to us all.

The greatest lesson that Aunt Myrtle ever taught me – the lesson I’m still learning even after she’s gone from this earth – is that only Jesus matters. How often I try to build my identity with work and possessions. How often I seek the refuge of my own accomplishments. How often I sacrifice being with the Lord for doing something for Him. And how often I feel so empty and discontent.

I never heard Myrtle become bitter or complain about those many hours she was confined to the bed. She didn’t complain because those hours gave her time to draw closer to her goal. Her goal wasn’t fame or fortune. Her desire was simply and profoundly to walk with Jesus. He was everything she ever wanted, and when everything faded away, He became everything she ever needed. In her was the breath of God, and that breath ignited her life in this world and awakened it in the next.

We often forget that before the fall, Adam worked. God entrusted him with caring for the Garden of Eden (Genesis 2:15). Unlike the work we experience today, it must have been a wonderful task. In fact, it must not have seemed like work at all.

Could you imagine working and being told that you could work as little or as much as you want, and all your needs would be taken care of no matter what? That’s what Adam and Eve experienced before the fall. In the garden, they had access to the Tree of Life. They didn’t have to work in order to earn it. It was always there – day or night. No need to put in eight hours before partaking. They were totally and utterly free to work simply for the joy of shaping the garden, creating just as God created.

But in a moment all that changed.

After the fall, God cursed Adam with work – the type of labor more familiar to us. Genesis 3:17-18 explains that this new kind of work would be difficult. Instead of working for joy or pleasure, work would be essential and functional, and Adam would have to work to live. Instead of the freedom to stop, work would never end. Adam would always be racing against the clock. No longer did he have all of the time in the world.

Perhaps the greatest curse of work is that it never ends. Even though it’s essential, it never fully satisfies, because, there’s never enough we can do. We could always do more, but no matter how much we do, it can never give us everlasting life.

Isn’t that ironic? The Tree of Life that God provided bore fruit that sustained forever. No need to work to get it. But when that was taken away, when man was left to his own labor, he would work for food that would only provide temporal sustenance. It’s a cyclical process he was doomed to repeat for a lifetime.

I wonder if Adam ever thought, “Maybe one day I’ll plant, and up will sprout that Tree of Life, and I can stop working.” Maybe he thought, “One day my work will prove that I deserve to return to Eden with its everlasting life-giving fruit.” Perhaps Adam entertained the idea that one day this work would finally be freedom.

Deep down I think we all entertain that Nazi mantra – “Arbeit macht frei” – Work makes freedom. Regarding this statement, Otto Friedrich wrote in his book The Kingdom of Auschwitz:

He seems not to have intended it as a mockery, nor even to have intended it literally, as a false promise that those who worked to exhaustion would eventually be released, but rather as a kind of mystical declaration that self-sacrifice in the form of endless labour does in itself bring a kind of spiritual freedom.

Otto Friedrich is right. Endless labor does have a spiritual connection in our mind, especially in our Western society. Unfortunately, it is a spiritual element of idolatry. Work can be idolatrous when we find our identity in what we do. Yes, God did declare that work was necessary for life and that it would always be a part of our existence, but work was never intended to (nor can it) bring about a spiritual wholeness. We can never find spiritual freedom in our endless labor.

Recently a wise friend told me that she doesn’t like to look at all of those home improvement picture ideas on Pinterest. She said, “The biggest temptation on there for me is dissatisfaction with myself – like I ought to be doing more ‘stuff’ instead of walking in the Spirit.”

What a profound statement worth breaking down. Notice what she said. 1) Identifying work often makes us think we need to do more. 2) Work can lead us to feelings of self-satisfaction and equally (if not more often) self-dissatisfaction. 3) Work does not equal walking in the Spirit.

So if work doesn’t brings us freedom, then what does? 2 Corinthians 3:17 tells us, “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” Work, like many other pleasures or tasks, is not in and of itself idolatry. It is when we set work up in competition and contradiction with the Spirit that it becomes (like anything else) idolatry.

As the great hymn Rock of Ages declares:

Not the labor of my hands
Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.

Today, us wilderness laborers, have received an invitation to return to Eden. It is not through the labor of our hands. There’s nothing to prove. There’s nothing that we could possibly do to prove ourselves deserving. The invitation is to love Jesus – to eat from His life giving fruit. There is no cost nor labor to earn it. It is total and redeeming grace. For when we love Him, when we give ourselves to Him completely, we will find that our work is simply work. We will discover not just the Tree of Life, but the author of life, and the realization that our identity is utterly and completely found in Him.

I always find movies that transcend a simple plot or sports that offer something beyond a winner and loser more compelling. Those that speak in some way of Kingdom principles or the human struggle stick with me more than those that offer a mere few hours of entertainment.

Perhaps beyond just the Ravens’ success, this NFL season has been more memorable to me than any other that I can remember. We witnessed as Coach Chuck Pagano overcame a battle with cancer to rejoin his team in the playoff race. Peyton Manning, one of the all-time greatest quarterbacks, came back from multiple neck surgeries to lead his team to a number one seeding in the playoffs. Rookie quarterback Robert Griffin III made his debut by taking a bottom ranking team to the postseason. And one of my favorite players and most notable team leaders, Ray Lewis, returned from an injury, announced that he will retire after this seventeenth season, and somehow, he keeps managing to keep his underdog team alive in the race for the Lombardi Trophy.

Much talk has circulated around the Ravens’ linebacker this year. Every game we wonder, “Is this the last time we’ll see one of the greatest defensive players take the field?” Some have even used this story to motivate their team and discourage the Ravens. In Boston before the AFC Championship game, they erected billboards counting down to what they called “Ray’s retirement party.”

There’s something about humanity that loves the underdogs, the unexpected wins, the old veterans leading teams to unlikely victory. I admit that I feel a little sense of vindication, knowing that Boston commuters were forced to look at those unfulfilled prophecies erected high in the sky.

As Ray Lewis’ retirement party keeps getting delayed, he has become more and more outspoken about the Lord’s role in his life. Following the AFC Championship win he said, “If you sacrifice anything for God, He will give you your heart’s desire, if it aligns with God’s will… God kept telling me, ‘No weapon formed against you shall prosper.’ Anytime you trust in God, man can’t tell you what you cannot do… I was hurt when I saw a sign that that said my [career] would end tonight. Man can’t dictate that; God dictates that.”

Many might say that “football is just a game and doesn’t need to be over-spiritualized.” However, I’m sure others could say the same about life experiences that weigh on us – our occupations, life struggles, or anything we find significant. Likewise, there have been no shortage of people pointing fingers at Ray Lewis’ past – his moral failings and his run-in with the law. Even Ray himself has been open about those dark days. For us who aren’t in the spotlight, we are spared the public ridicule and criticism. Instead, a deeper voice often speaks discouragement to us. Our greatest critic often times is ourself.

A couple of Sundays ago, we studied the second half of Romans 7. We saw how every verse was an utter confession of failure. We saw in Paul a similarity to Lance Armstrong’s greatly anticipated confession. “I am deeply flawed.” For ten verses, these are Paul’s canonized declarations.

Many people will stop there. Many people will define themselves by their shortcomings. What I don’t or can’t do resounds louder than our potential. But Paul doesn’t stop there. One of the greatest chapters in all of Scripture follows the juicy confession of Romans 7. “Yes, even I, even a deeply flawed individual such as myself, can do all things through Jesus Christ who gives me strength.”

What resonates so loudly in my heart is not what Paul or Ray Lewis did. My calling is not to plant churches in Asia Minor or play professional sports. What I look up to, what makes these men heroes to me, what gives me hope for my own life is that they heard God speak to them. They gripped onto the belief that their identity is not found in their failures or criticisms. It is found in God’s power in their life. They lived the idea of resurrection – that God will raise them from their ashes. “Victory in Jesus” should not be a forgotten or empty mantra. The story God weaves is bigger than our present circumstances and struggles and greater than the story we can fabricate ourselves. They stand up in the face of adversity and proclaim with faith, “No weapon fashioned against me will prosper.” They don’t just say it; they believe it. They live it.

It is not mere “Prosperity Theology” to say, “God will work things out for my good” or “no weapon fashioned against me will prosper.” Our problem isn’t that we expect too much of God; it’s that we often expect so little. It’s not mere positive thinking when we declare God’s promises for our life. That’s called faith.

Today, God is calling out to us. He is saying, “You are my son, my daughter. You aren’t just making it. You are more than a conqueror.” Listen to His words, let them seep into the deepest parts of your soul, your mind, your hurts, your embarrassments, and your struggles. And say, “Yes Lord, I am not defined by society, my failures, or my accomplishments. I am who you say I am, for You are the Great I AM.”

Put yourself in Mary’s shoes for a moment. An angel tells you, a virgin, that you’re going to have a baby. You’re a young woman (probably 15 years old), engaged to a respectable man, and you live in a society where virginity is valued and expected until marriage. What would you do?

We can only imagine the turmoil that Mary, Jesus’ mother, must have felt. Unlike all the other women of Jesus’ genealogy, Mary is the only Jewish woman listed. The rest, surprisingly, were Gentiles. Like all the other women, there is some question about her sexual propriety. Tamar slept with her father-in-law Judah. Rahab was a prostitute. Ruth visited Boaz in the night and laid at his feet. Bathsheba had an affair with King David. Mary became pregnant outside of wedlock.

Sexual impropriety, especially for women, in ancient Palestine was no casual matter. At the very least, it was grounds to break off the marriage along with public humiliation, and it was a crime that could be punishable by death.

Matthew gives us a little insight about Joseph’s struggle with Mary’s pregnancy, revealing that he planned to quietly annul the engagement without disgracing her or calling for her execution. But he recants after being visited by an angel who reveals God’s plan to her.

Still, we are not told how Mary handled this with her parents or with her community. Imagine the struggle she felt. Did she try to explain what happened, or would that just be laughable? Did she feel like she had to defend herself or apologize for the rest of her life? Was Jesus ever discounted because some in his community considered him the son of a harlot?

When Gabriel visited Mary and told her that she had found favor with God, and explained how everything was to happen, her reply was simply, “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.” Who knew that such favor with God or such faithful obedience was going to cost Mary so much? Her statement was a tremendous act of self-denial.

In his book, “The Cost of Discipleship,” Deitrich Bonhoeffer writes, “To deny oneself is to be aware only of Christ and no more of self, to see only him who goes before and no more the road which is too hard for us. Once more, all that self denial can say is: ‘He leads the way, keep close to him.’”

But within the story of Mary is the story of God’s faithfulness. He intervened so that Joseph didn’t break off the relationship, and He protected Mary so that she was not expelled from or executed by her community. Instead of a life scorned with shame like we may think of a woman such as Bathsheba, Mary is the most celebrated woman in all of history. God pulled through. The angel Gabriel said it best when he told her, “No word from God will ever fail.”

Mary’s life emulates Jesus’ in so many ways. Jesus submitted to the Father’s plan just as His mother Mary did. “Thy will be done,” led him to suffering and execution, but God pulled through. Instead of ending in death, Jesus rose to new life. Just as we remember and celebrate Mary, Paul tells us that Jesus’ humility will bring everyone in heaven and earth and under the earth to one day bow and acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.

This is a promise that pertains to us. When we obey God, even though we may indeed encounter difficulties, the glory is much greater than the trial. We will test the faithfulness of God, and He will, as He always does, prove faithful. God’s promise to us in Isaiah 61 is that we will be oaks of righteousness, planted by the Lord, for the display of His splendor. We can now begin to understand why Mary insisted to the men at the wedding at Cana to listen to Jesus and do exactly as He says. Keeping close to Jesus, like Deitrich Bonhoeffer said, is where we find the beauty and joy of the new wine of life.

Imagine a friend came to you, her husband was at war, and she admitted to having an affair with a prominent public figure. Then she says, “I am pregnant.” What would you say to her?

There is general consensus that Bathsheba, with the assistance of King David, did absolutely everything wrong. She, a married Gentile woman, had an affair with the King of Israel while her husband Uriah was at war. When she became pregnant with David’s child, David arranged to make it look like her husband’s, and eventually David put her husband on the front lines so that he would be killed in combat.

It is a horrific story, and a scandal that we could imagine developing over months in the evening news – the prominent players involved, the affair, the cover up, the murder. No doubt it would lead to a resignation or an impeachment, even in our secular society.

In fact, this story is so scandalous and licentious, that Matthew does not actually include Bathsheba’s name in Jesus’ genealogy. He refers to her as the mother of Solomon, who had been Uriah’s wife. Perhaps the wording demonstrates an awkwardness we all feel in certain situations. A woman becomes pregnant out of wedlock, and while we want to celebrate the life inside of her, we also struggle with not condoning the behavior that led to the pregnancy.

Some might argue that had Bathsheba never had that affair with King David, she would not have had Solomon – one of the wisest men in history, and she would have never been included in Jesus’ genealogy. Does that mean what she did was good, or that the ends justified the means? Absolutely not.

What’s good is God. Somehow, someway (and He always seems to do this), He makes good out of what seem to be impossibly good circumstances. This is the power of Jesus’ redemption. We look at the woman caught in adultery and give her two options – death by justice or freedom by disregarding the law. Jesus has a third option – redemption through mercy.

Dr. Tim Keller writes, “The Biblical view of things is resurrection – not a future that is just a consolation for the life we never had but a restoration of the life you always wanted. This means that every horrible thing that ever happened will not only be undone and repaired but will in some way make the eventual glory and joy even greater.”

Is there a better example of this than David and Bathsheba’s relationship? The eventual glory and joy of the coming of the Messiah through their line outweighs and greatly overshadows their sin and guilt. This is the redemption and the resurrection that Jesus offers to each and every one of us. So many times we don’t feel worthy or capable of serving the Lord. We’ve got stuff – sin, addictions, history, stuff we’ve buried, stuff we wish would stay buried. Jesus doesn’t promise to hide our sin, he promises a life free from it – a life free from its entanglements and free from our paranoia to keep the skeletons hidden in the closet. That is freedom. That is the Messianic promise of redemption. This is what Jesus means when He says, “I make all things new.”

Jesus is the resurrection and the life. When we put our hope in Him, our life rises from ashes. May the Lord help us to trust Him, to follow Him, to love Him, to embrace the life to which He invites us, and to realize that abundant and real life is only found in Him. He has come to heal the brokenhearted and set the captives free, to exchange our ashes for crowns of beauty. May we desire to be oaks of righteousness – a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor.

This year during Advent, New Hope Chapel will be focusing on the women of Jesus’ genealogy and their connection to the life and ministry of the Messiah. These are from our readings during the worship service.

Imagine you lived with your in-laws. Over the years, your father-in-law passed away. Then shortly after, your brother-in-law passed away. Then your own husband passed away. What would you do? Would you stay with your mother-in-law, or would you go back to the place where you grew up?

That’s how we are introduced to Ruth – the third woman listed in Jesus’ genealogy. She was a Moabite – a Gentile (like all of the Old Testament women listed in Jesus’ genealogy). Over time, she watched her in-laws die, and instead of staying in Moab, she accompanied her mother-in-law Naomi back to her hometown in Judah.

Even though Naomi urged her to go on and live a life of her own, Ruth responded with these famous words, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.”

Ruth’s humility did not pay dividends at first. Just to eat, she would glean leftover wheat from the edges of farming fields. However, eventually one of the noblemen – Boaz (the son of Rahab the once harlot of Jericho) – noticed her. Ruth’s reputation of loyalty had preceded her, and Boza gladly gave her plenty to eat.

But Ruth wasn’t just interested in Boaz’s leftover grain, she was interested in his heart. Because Boaz needed a little help making his move, one evening Ruth snuck into his room and laid at his feet. While her actions were certainly culturally inappropriate, her seduction was nothing sexual, nothing like we might see in a Hollywood movie. John Eldridge notes that Ruth’s seduction was just what Boaz needed to motivate him. “She uses all she has as a woman to arouse him to be a man.” Instead of nagging him, instead of whining, instead of hypothetically emasculating him, she helps him muster the strength and courage to do what needs to be done in order to marry her.

Out of all the Old Testament women in Jesus’ genealogy, Ruth seems most appropriate. There are so many good and godly character qualities that we find in this Gentile woman. But perhaps her greatest quality is her servant leadership. John Maxwell says, “A successful person finds the right place for himself. But a successful leader finds the right place for others.” Ruth helped Naomi and Boaz find their place and fulfill their missions in life.

In a similar way, Jesus is a servant leader in our lives. He desires our heart, but He is also a perfect gentleman. He doesn’t nag or degrade our manliness or femininity. If anything, Jesus helps us better discover it by finding our right place in this world and our right place in His Kingdom. Jesus has a way of inviting us on an adventure into a life worth living. It is a holy seduction. David knew it. He said, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” So often He intervenes in our world. We see Him on the edges of our field of view. He is there, not just gleaning wheat for His sake. He is inviting us on the greatest adventure of our life.

Jesus is the servant leader. We see this in the invitation that He gave to His disciples. “Come, follow me.” He beckoned them to leave what consumed them to live a life worth consuming. Likewise, He does the same for us. He welcomes us on your adventure and then molds us into the men and women beyond our wildest imaginations or our sincerest abilities. Today and every day, may the Lord help us to notice Him, help us to seek Him, and help us to walk with Him in faith.

This year during Advent, New Hope Chapel will be focusing on the women of Jesus’ genealogy and their connection to the life and ministry of the Messiah.  These are from our readings during the worship service.

Imagine an arranged marriage, where you’re taken far from your country, your people, and your culture, and brought some place new.  Imagine marrying someone you never met, and then becoming a widow shortly after – with no children and no future.

That’s Tamar’s story – a story of sorrow and rejection.  She was a Gentile woman, acquired by Judah (the oldest of Jacob’s sons) as a wife for his son Er.  When Er died, Tamar was not given the opportunity to bear children through the Leverate marriage custom. Her new family rejected her.  Her brother-in-law used her. And Judah considered her to be bad luck, and wouldn’t permit her access to his sons.

In desperation, Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute and seduced her own father-in-law Judah, while not revealing her true identity.  A few months later, word spread that Tamar had become pregnant because of prostitution, and in a twist of irony and self-righteousness, Judah demanded her execution (not realizing that he was in fact the father).

But when Tamar discreetly revealed to Judah his part in the act, he recanted of his self-righteous position and repented for not allowing her the full benefits of Leverate marriage to which she was entitled.  He confessed saying, “She is more righteous than I,” and because of that, her life was spared.  Judah would never again defile her, and as for Tamar, she would later bear twins – Perez and Zerah.

The story of Tamar parallels a familiar one found in the Gospel.  Just as Judah came to Tamar’s rescue,  Jesus rescued the woman caught in adultery.  The “righteous” men of the city were prepared to execute adulterous women, but they were unwilling to admit their own guilt.  Jesus, though he was sinless in the matter, didn’t respond with threats of execution like the other self-righteous and religious did.  Instead He responded with words of kindness, forgiveness, and freedom.  “Your sins are forgiven.  Go and sin no more.”  Instead of condemning the woman to death, He liberated the woman to new life.

The story of Tamar – the first woman listed in Jesus’ genealogy is a bizarre story, and one might ask, “Why did God choose to include this woman in Jesus’ genealogy?  Why not include one of the more moral examples from around the time of the Patriarchs– Sarah, Rebekah, or Rachel?”  But there is something about Tamar’s story that speaks to the person of Jesus.  He was despised and rejected much like his ancestor Tamar.  He was denied His own rights.  As Isaiah refers to our Messiah, He indeed was a man of sorrows.

Jesus is the God of the rejected and the broken hearted.  He experienced rejection – no place to be born, and His own people hastened His execution.  In His heart, there is a place for those who have had their rights denied, their dignity refused, and who like Tamar find themselves in a place of hopelessness.  Jesus, welcomes all of our sorrows, all of our burdens, all of our fears, and our rejections. He accepts our brokenness, never denying the contrite spirit or the broken heart.  His words are words of kindness – “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”  May we in turn embrace and emulate the Messiah’s spirit of humility and kindness.