I have always enjoyed the season of Advent; those four weeks set apart to meditate on the first coming of Jesus. Advent means 'a coming into place, view or being,' so it is the perfect time to remember Jesus' arrival in human history as a helpless infant. Everyone loves babies; they are cute and cuddly. They are also non-threatening; they write no manifestos and make no speeches. They don't march or do causes. Examine any manger scene, the baby Jesus just lies there limply, without so much as a Pampers on—pretty harmless stuff. It is easy to reflect on and sing the praises of baby Jesus, asleep on the hay. Even the world—except those allergic to even the most innocuous religious expressions of Christmas—mostly tolerates baby Jesus.
But Jesus hasn't been a baby for a long, long time.
The man Jesus makes conclusive, polarizing statements about His identity. He directs how we should live—meddles even. He tips our sacred cows. His statements about Himself demand a response. He's politically incorrect and intolerant, with His claim of being 'the only way'. His promise that He will return, destroy all that hinders love, and rule this planet as absolute, undisputed King places Him squarely at odds with the world and its systems. It's much less controversial to stay focused on His humble birth, to keep Him in that manger.
Of course there is absolutely nothing wrong with spending this season reflecting on Jesus' first advent—we should express love and gratitude that He came, lived among us and died to save us. Without His first advent, there would be no resurrection, and no reason for our faith, no expectation of anything higher or better than this world. But low-born Jesus is also our coming King. He asks His disciples to remember not just that he came, but that He is coming again. He asks that we be ready. Like a watchman vigilantly guarding his house against burglars. Like a pregnant woman, excitedly awaiting the day her baby arrives. Like a Jewish bride in ancient times, eagerly waiting for the day her bridegroom completes his preparations and comes to take her from her father's house, into his own.
So it's good to remember that He's coming again, especially at this time of the year when everything around me insists that celebrating Christmas is okay, as long as I keep it about gifts and parties and baby Jesus. Baby Jesus only. But King Jesus is the One returning, with fiery eyes and an implacable determination to return the world to what God intended from the beginning. A place where God may walk among us; where we will see Him face to face. A place of unhindered love and intimacy, where we creatures may finally and forever live with our Creator. A place of eternal glory.
As 2019 draws to a close, I want every manger scene to be a reminder, not just that Jesus humbly came as a weak, human infant, but that He's coming again as all-powerful King. As I remember and honor Jesus' appearing, I am asking God to refresh my desire to watch for His re-appearing. This beautiful, terrible, broken world is passing and will pass away. Soon and very soon we will see our King, our glorious Jesus, high and lifted up, His train filling all the earth. Every eye will see Him, recognizing Him as King and God. What a privilege it is to see and know Him now.
May this Advent reaffirm your trust that what He has promised He will do; renew your resistance to the pull of this world; and refocus your life on Jesus. May He shorten the time and strengthen the saints to walk out His love to others. Merry Christmas. Maranatha! (Oh Lord, Come!)
