It is common to hear the United States referred to as a Christian nation. This idea is raised in contrast to Muslim nations overseas, it is raised to discuss laws that seem fitting for us as a Christian nation, it is raised to talk about our influences and our founding fathers and the basic thread running through our culture.

I submit that this is not only false, but dangerously so.

The danger lies in the fact that, when we allow ourselves to believe that our nation is itself Christian in some fundamental sense, we set ourselves up to blur the lines between our faith and our nation. Patriotism is seen as a Christian virtue, absolute support for the military and police seen as Christian practices, despite the fact that neither of these are given in scripture. We allow ourselves to believe that what the nation does is what Christianity looks like, that we can tell a Christian from a pagan by their voting record. Israel believed they would be blessed by God because they had Abraham as their father; Americans act as though we will be blessed by God by claiming Washington as ours.

Now, it is true that John the Baptist was preparing people to receive Christ, but his words should not be read as something we must do before coming to Him. Instead John here states that this is the fruit Christ will seek to have growing on His branches; that those who are His will be producing good fruit, fruit that bears evidence of repentance. How does John here summarize this fruit? It is an opposition to materialism, it is a free giving to those in need, it is being content with what you have and not bending situations to get you more than you need. Is this the fruit of our culture? Do we live in a nation where those who hoard resources are called to task? Does our culture encourage us to live in humble means and give all we do not need to those who do, do we receive daily messages praising restraint in getting more and more? Who blankets our magazine covers but millionaires and billionaires?

When we allow ourselves to believe that this is a Christian nation, and thereby allow ourselves to believe that our nation somehow informs what our faith should look like, we end up practicing a faith that stands in direct opposition to the word of God. This culture is not Christian and trying to call it such spreads lies about what it means to be Christian. If we are to engage with the culture correctly, we must sever this notion and treat the culture for what it is. We cannot hope to grow as Christians, or show others what it means to be a Christian, if we are too blinded by our national pursuits to see the Christian life.

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.

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).

Those who observe modern Jewish rites are coming to the close of Chanukah today, while Christians are continuing to look ahead to Christmas. This season, where we both celebrate miraculous light coming into the darkness, has at its heart the wondrous works of God.

It can be easy around Christmas to focus entirely on the infancy of Christ. Because He was very much a real infant, with all the limitations and needs that fact includes. But what a magnificent work He has done! We have no idea what it takes to boil the whole person of God the Son into a tiny, fragile, helpless human frame. We can't conceive of the scope of the miracle that is the Incarnation.

The people who watched Christ perform miracles often glorified God, and rightly so, because the works they saw were so far beyond what they were expecting or could understand. But they rarely saw the greatest miracle of Christ's life, that being the fact that He was there in human flesh at all. Let us, this season, consider the mighty works of God in our lives and in the Incarnation itself, and glorify God accordingly.