The Incarnation is a fundamentally historical event. I don't mean that in the sense that it definitely happened as a real event in history, though that is true; what I mean is that it did not happen in a vacuum. The coming of Christ was wrapped up in so much history and so much covenant language that it is impossible to grasp it with significant depth if we don't understand what came before. For the record, this is one of the reasons I feel as strongly as I do about Advent, that it is a time specifically targeted toward understanding the context into which Jesus was born. How often do we go back to the Old Testament during Advent? How often do our churches focus all their sermon series on the New Testament alone? How often do we give new believers a New Testament, maybe with the Psalms and Proverbs thrown in, instead of the fullness of God's word?

Consider Zacharias' song, sometimes called the Benedictus. Empowered by the Holy Spirit, he looks forward to the coming Christ by looking backward to the promises God made to His people and the terrible circumstances where they learned the value of those promises. I fear sometimes that we are so used to the idea that God is among us that we miss how shocking it really is that God would dwell with us. How wonderful must these words have sounded to those who first heard them!

In western churches, we celebrate Christmas tomorrow. Today, let us go back to the Old Testament and consider what it must have been like to receive the promise of Christmas for the first time.

I'm reading a book about the Magnificat, Mary's song of praise for the work God was doing through her, delivered in the presence of her cousin Elizabeth. It's been a decent read in general, but what brought it to mind during today's reading is the chapter devoted to the way Mary worships God in this moment.

The Magnificat nearly perfectly meets the sort of worship being described by Isaiah above. While Mary does not describe God as angry with her at any point, she does acknowledge her own unworthiness to receive His grace and work in her life and leans on Him for comfort while she looked ahead to what was absolutely going to be a socially trying situation.

I do not think we should revere Mary in any way that exceeds that of others who have put their faith in Christ. She had a special job to do, but that did not make her a higher kind of Christian any more than a career missionary would be to a Christian working as a line cook. If both are serving the same God with the same heart in their own vocations and settings, they are on the same ultimate task. I mention this because I do think that we who do not revere Mary have done a great disservice to her and to ourselves by hardly acknowledging her at all. There are things we can learn from her, just as there are things we can learn from each other; and as we draw close to Christmas, the Magnificat is one very important and relevant example.

I would encourage you to read this passage from Isaiah and see what kind of worship God says will fill the hearts of those who know Him and have seen His great works. Then read the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55) with that framework in mind, and see what this kind of worship looks like. Let us ask ourselves today if our hearts pour out that kind of worship to God; and if not, let us set our hearts on Him and our minds on His great work in our lives.

Today's reading was not entirely coherent. It was much harder for me to see a common thread among even most of it than usual. This happens sometimes, and usually the result is that I just don't post a devotional that day. There's no point in wasting space if I have nothing to say. But today, Psalm 60:11 in particular jumped out at me. It may have something to do with the nature of this book I'm reading during Advent, I don't know. I just know that I wanted to talk about it.

​Psalm 60 is a bit strange at a glance. The context at the beginning is longer than a lot of psalms, and the psalm itself cries out to God for rejecting Israel while at the same time acknowledging that God is and will be with Israel. How can David say with one breath that God has rejected the people and then turn around and say in the very next line that He will go forth with the army of the people? Had God, at this point, rejected Israel or had He chosen to side with them?

The context is traditionally held to be the events of 2 Samuel 8 and 1 Chronicles 18, in which David conquered a great deal of surrounding land and established his rule over those who had been enemies of Israel in ages past. There is no indication in these passages of God rejecting Israel, though. Maybe David is referring to some defeat that is not described in those chapters, as they are basically just brief overviews. The point is, however, that David is aware of a point at which Israel does not have God's favor, and is still seeing the promise of the Lord to be with Israel being played out. This brings us to verse 11. David is confident by this point that God will bring deliverance, and not only that, but that the deliverance of God is far beyond what any mortal hands can provide, and that it is visible even when the favor of God is not with His people.

I know this is not what David is talking about, specifically, but the wording of verse 11 reminded me of the point of Christ's coming in the first place. Because mankind had made ourselves enemies of God, He had rightfully rejected us--but His desire was still for us, and as such, He still stepped in to lead the battle against our greatest adversary and provided deliverance in a situation where our own attempts to deliver ourselves would have been in vain. God's opposition to us, due to our rebellion against Him, was intimately tied to His act of deliverance on our behalf. We cannot see the coming of Christ clearly without understanding both aspects of this.

Advent is not just about waiting. I mean, that's basically what's on the label, waiting for Christ's second coming, waiting for Christmas, understanding a bit of Israel waiting for her messiah. Advent looks backward and forward, and not only acknowledges the importance of waiting, but the importance of understanding that God fulfills His promises.

God promised that He would send a redeemer through the line of Eve, that the world would be blessed through Abraham's seed, that He would make a covering for sin. Christmas is a celebration of God fulfilling His promises. During Advent, we remember that He has been faithful in all things so far, and will continue to be faithful to see all His words come to pass.

We must take seriously what it means that He will judge the world, that all we know will pass away, but those of us who trust in His salvation shall be secure. This Advent, we must look at the people around us and know that they will either be with God or they will face true, comprehensive judgement. We are so used to fighting over the commercialization of Christmas that we don't even argue in the public square anymore whether or not it should be commercialized, but that it isn't being commercialized properly. The Christmas cups are written wrong, the cashier said "happy holidays" to me instead of "merry Christmas" while I was out putting myself into debt to meet our culture's demands. Our culture is so far removed from looking at Christ during Advent that we think these little battles we've picked are more important than loving that cashier, than helping a barista bear the weight of their life, than asking how we can use this season to show the world that the empty promises of Black Friday sales and Hallmark Christmas movies pale in comparison to the God who really will do exactly what He says.

People around us are hurting this season. Some people reading this may be hurting this season. They are hurting from broken promises, from the curse of death on this world, from families who cannot or will not see the pain they've caused and seek restoration. How would the world around us change if we made this season about sitting with them in their pain, entering into their mess like Christ entered ours, and pointing them to the God who keeps His promises and conquers death and loves with an everlasting and unconditional love?

I was once in a group discussion where we were looking at the announcement to Mary that she would bear the Son of God. We had just done the announcement to Zacharias, so it was fresh enough in everyone's mind that one person felt the need to ask why Mary was being favored while questioning Gabriel when Zacharias was being punished for doing the same thing. As was discussed then, there is a notable difference in how they question the angel.

Zacharias is actively challenging the message he's received. He recognizes the obstacles facing what he's been promised, and responds by calling on the angel to prove the truth of the message. Mary, on the other hand, has some logistical concerns of her own--a sensible response, especially given what will be asked of her--but she doesn't challenge the message. She just asks for more information. There is a world of difference between the questions "how will you do it?" and "how can I know that you will do it?"

When God lays a call on us, it may seem larger than we can grasp. I can think of no example in scripture or personal experience where it seemed small enough that the one being called could do it on their own. In periods of darkness and waiting, it can be hard to see how things are ever going to work out. It is natural to cry out, "God, how? How will you do this? How will this happen?"And this is a fine question to ask! God may or may not explain His processes, frequently He won't, but there is no condemnation for asking. Where we go astray is when we begin to doubt that He can, and treat that doubt as a greater truth than His promise. We all have periods of doubt, and what we do with those periods matter. We may ask questions of the Lord. We may express concern. We may pour out all our fears and doubts and troubles to Him, and He will graciously receive us. We cannot forget that God can work and move in situations where we can't even see what surrounds us. Let us have a heart like Mary's, that we look to the promises of God and respond, "Behold, the bondslave of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word" ( from Luke 1:38 NASB).