Denise Gallichio

CONSIDER THIS

The Advent roots of Jesus’ story and the roots of the faith-family of Israel—as well as the roots of the body of Christ of which we are a part—are nourished by a few striking images from the Old Testament. One of these images is the picture of the sacrificial lamb, sacrificed for the sins of the people of Israel. While we won’t unpack such a powerful and complex image completely, it’s important that we take a few moments this Advent season to reflect on Jesus coming into the world as the Agnus Dei—the Lamb of God.

In the Scriptures, we hear Christ called the “Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” (John 1:29). In the ancient Hebrew image of the sacrificial lamb, the Jews would sacrifice a lamb in the Passover celebration, as a life-for-life offering that would cleanse the sin of the nation and remind them of God’s great, life-saving deliverance of his people from the Egyptians. That sacrifice would cleanse the guilt and sin of the people of Israel as they stumbled to uphold their end of covenant obedience and loving-kindness intended to be shared between themselves and God.

While an image like a sacrificial lamb can feel offensive to our modern sensibilities, it is important that we approach images like this with tremendous historical humility—we are not better or smarter than they are—they lived in a time and in a place, in a world that would be very unfamiliar to us today. God speaks in history, in time, to people in ways that are meaningful to them, using powerful images like a sacrificial lamb to show us just how far God will go to win us back, heal us from our sin, and keep us aware that we are in need of a savior who will offer his life in exchange for our own.

Advent is the Father’s action to restore the covenant relationship, broken in the garden of Eden, between God and humanity, between us and our Creator. By giving his one and only Son to live, die, and rise to life again among us, the Father was bridging the gap between himself and us, a gap created by our sin and widened through our endless rebellion and misuse of the precious gifts of creation—including one another.

At Christmas, Christ came to us as the Lamb of God. On the cross, he would make the supreme sacrifice for you, for me, for all of the human family. When Jesus was born, one of the gifts given to him by one of the Gentile kings was myrrh, a spice with many uses, one of which was its use as a burial spice (Matt. 2:11; John 19:39). Myrrh is mentioned a few times in Jesus’ story, foreshadowing that he will give his life, as a sacrificial lamb (Rev. 13:8), as a ransom for us all (Mark 10:45). As the song says, “Mary, did you know?” Did you know that Jesus was born to die for us all?

First Peter 1:18–20 says: “For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect. He was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for your sake.” The Lamb of God was slain for us, a sacrifice that forever breaks the power of sin, brings forgiveness, and triumphs over the powers and authorities of this cruel world, making a spectacle of them on the cross where the Lamb of God suffered and died (Col. 2:13–15).

Advent reminds us that Jesus is, and will always be, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. We will worship him as the Lamb, forever (Rev. 5:12–13).

THE PRAYER

Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world—and our own right along with it. We rise today, clean and cleansed in spirit and conscience, brought into sweet intimacy with you, because you took our sin on your shoulders in your death, and rose to defeat its power forever. Thank you. We worship you, Lamb of God, in this season of Advent. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

THE QUESTIONS

• Have you ever meditated on Jesus as the Lamb of God during the Advent season? If not, take some time to reflect on what it means for Jesus to be the “Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” and how his sacrifice for you has changed your life.

Roots: Advent and the Family Story of Jesus by Dan Wilt

But Joseph said to them, “Don’t be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.”  Genesis 50:19–20

CONSIDER THIS

As we continue our journey through Advent and its themes of hope, love, joy, and peace, why are we spending so much time in Genesis? The Lord Jesus who appears to us in his Advent, at the fullness of time (Gal. 4:4–7), is a branch from a family tree that shoots its strong roots deep into the soil of the earliest recorded human history. Jesus’ family tree and family story have withstood the most violent spiritual weather events of the ages. The gates of hell will simply not prevail against the church, whose story is now a part of the story of Christ (Matt. 16:17–19).

Joseph is an important figure in the faith root system of Jesus and of each one of us today. From his humble beginnings, to his technicolor dream coat, to his slavery and imprisonment, to his revelatory gifts, to his remarkable ascent to political power, to his commanding presence as the vizier of the great Pharaoh, Joseph’s story of faith reveals many profound truths that can keep us on the path to life (Ps. 16:11).

In Genesis 50:19–20, when Joseph finally reveals himself to his betraying brothers, he uses these halting words: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good.” Though Joseph’s path was treacherous and life-threatening, it led him to a place where he could save his people, along with the Egyptians, during the bleak years of a widespread famine.

Jesus, Master of the human heart and Great Deliverer from the bondage of sin, was done tremendous harm on his journey. The story of the life of Joseph must have sprung to mind often in early church gatherings, having seen their Lord unjustly treated at the hands of the empire and even a close friend, and then rising as the ascended Lord before their very eyes!

Yet, as Jesus walked his own harrowing journey in his first Advent coming, the Father had a purpose pulsing behind it all. With the name Jesus (“the Lord saves”) guiding and framing his mission, Jesus’ path led him to the place where he could intervene to save every single one of us who trust in his name. Like Joseph before him, all that the enemy intended for evil in Jesus’ life was turned to good.

We know the stories that followed Jesus’ triumph, because they are our own. Evil manifests itself in many lives in many different ways, and our enemy intends to steal, kill, and destroy each one of us. That’s the enemy’s plan, and it’s on the agenda every day. But what does Jesus do? He intervenes.

He takes all that evil and pain and suffering and hopelessness in our lives and “works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28). You and I are living examples that Jesus brings good from evil. Pause here to worship with me! Our Advent Lord turns evil to good! The enemy has no cards left in his hand for all eternity!

This Advent, Jesus is at work for your good and mine. You need not be enslaved to the power of evil or its effects anymore, nor does fear have the authority to command your daily thoughts, emotions, and actions unless you give it that place of authority. Today you can celebrate that you are beloved, you are a cared-for soul, and God is working all things for your good—to his glory.

THE PRAYER

Lord of the Great Conversion, we thank you that you are always converting the hard stories in our lives into radiant testimonies of your faithfulness. This Advent, we defer and surrender to your work in the midst of the challenges we are facing. We revel in your promise to “make everything new” (Rev. 21:5) when you come again in all your glory. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

THE QUESTIONS

• Is there a hard story in your life that Jesus turned for good, that is now a beautiful and important part of your testimony of God’s faithfulness?
• Like Joseph, how has God used that story to impact the lives of others around you?

Roots: Advent and the Family Story of Jesus by Dan Wilt

That night Jacob got up and took his two wives, his two female servants and his eleven sons and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. After he had sent them across the stream, he sent over all his possessions. So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. . . .

Then the man said, “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because
you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome.”  Genesis 21:1–3, 6–7

CONSIDER THIS

Our Advent reflection on the roots of Jesus’ family tree takes us back to the moment in time when his forefather Jacob was first called “Israel”—and an entire people would bear his name for all recorded history.

When I was a young boy, at the prodding of a few friends, I tried the sport of wrestling. Two people get in a ring and attempt to force the other to physically submit. If there is one word that captures what happens in the ring, it is resistance; the entire sport is built on two people applying resistance, pressure, force to the other. When one person is pinned to the ground, the bell rings and the match is over. I was pinned often, but I did learn to apply my strength, like Jacob, in the process.

Jacob is mentioned, along with his grandfather, Abraham, and his father, Isaac, in Jesus’ genealogy in Matthew 1:2. Jacob was, by all accounts, a wrestler, a resistor, a pressurer, a forcer—always to get his own way. He was a man in a struggle his entire life. He wrestled with his brother coming out of the womb, and he wrestled a birthright and a blessing from him as well. Jacob psychologically wrestled his father out of a gift that was not intended for him, and he wrestled with his father-in-law over issues of fairness. Jacob knew how to get his way.

Deception. Resistance. Impatience. Struggle. Do these sound like words you would expect to be associated with a man who would not only become the namesake of the myriad people of Abraham, but would also make it into the genealogy of the Messiah? We can all be thankful that the Son of God has broken people who are a part of his family. Sometimes what we overcome is the very sign and signal that God is with us, working all things for the good for those who love him and are called according to his purposes (Rom. 8:28). In overcoming, we become ensigns of grace.

But why did Jacob struggle, and why do we? Jacob’s greatest opponent, as we read at various points in his story (see Gen. 31:1; 32:7, 11) was fear. At the ford of the Jabbok, Jacob sends his family, herds, and flocks ahead of him. Alone with his fear of facing his brother Esau, he spends the night in a wrestling match with a figure he seems to understand to be God. Jacob will name the place Peniel, which means “face of God,” because he saw God face-to-face, and yet his life was spared (Gen. 32:30). When the close-quarters, life-transforming match is over, Jacob is given the new name, Israel—one who “struggles” with God.

The only remedy for fear, according to 1 John 4:18, is love. Jacob feared because, like us, he struggled with love. He must have found it hard to love himself knowing all he had done. He must have found it hard to love others because he felt so unloved and unfavored himself. That’s how takers are born. They are always looking to provide something for themselves that only God can give. That night, perhaps, just perhaps, Jacob was ultimately overcome by love—humbled by love. And having met with God in the midst of his deepest fear, overpowering love left him with a limp of humility as a memento of the experience.

Jesus wrestled in a garden called Gethsemane. He, however, knew he was beloved, and could freely love because of that inner solidity and contentment. Our Messiah, knowing in his own family line how fear can corrupt and disorient a soul, steps into our lives and says, as he did to the disciples, “Don’t be afraid” (Matt. 14:27). With those words we are welcomed to lay down our resistance, our impatience, our hiding in shame, our deception, our wrestling—to embrace the beloved, loving, brave life of Jesus.

THE PRAYER

Lord of the Humbled Heart, you know us, and you always have. May our fear be broken by your love, casting it out, day by day, from our hearts. Give us the humility that comes from having been overcome by love, and we’ll take any limp that comes with it to remind me of love’s strength for the journey. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

THE QUESTIONS

• How has the love of Jesus met you in your fear and dissolved its power in your life?
• Are there areas of fear you are holding onto that you could surrender to Jesus without resistance?

Roots: Advent and the Family Story of Jesus by Dan Wilt

Some time later God tested Abraham. He said to him, “Abraham!”

“Here I am,” he replied.

Then God said, “Take your son, your only son, whom you love—Isaac—and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you.” . . .

Abraham looked up and there in a thicket he saw a ram caught by its horns. He went over and took the ram and sacrificed it as a burnt offering instead of his son. So Abraham called that place The Lord Will Provide. And to this day it is said, “On the mountain of the Lord it will be provided.”  Genesis 22:1–2, 13–14

CONSIDER THIS

Christmas celebrations surrounding the birth of Jesus are often fueled by pleasant reminiscences and nostalgia. We may hear the sounds of carols we heard from our youth ringing in malls and shops. We may smell the fragrance of a grandma’s candles, scented with the season. We may feel soft evergreen needles on our palms as we purchase this year’s Christmas tree. All of these moments can trigger memories that go back as far as we can remember.

But a deeper remembering, a holy anamnesis, could take us back to sights, sounds, and smells less appealing to our holiday sensibilities. We might return to Mount Moriah, to the sound of a father wailing as he prepared to sacrifice his only son, the smell of altar wood on a mountain smoking to life, the feeling of a blade sitting heavy in the hand, and the cool touch of a ram’s horn as it is drawn from a thicket.

The Lord Will Provide.

From the ancestral family of Jesus is a plot line that always moves forward through stories of great risk, great courage, and great acts of faith—acts that have changed the course of your life and mine. Abraham preparing to sacrifice Isaac on the mountain is just one stop on that plot line—but it’s an important one. Whispers of a promised provision make little sense when your son is bound to an altar and you have been asked to take the greatest leap of faith/fear you’ve ever known. Pausing on Mount Moriah, we meet Jesus as the provision of God.

The Lord Will Provide.

When Christ picked up his cross to walk the long road to Golgotha, the overtones ringing across the millennia would have been unmissable by those who had begun to understand his teaching. Jesus did not resist the Father’s request any more than Abraham did. He opened himself to the possibility that there would be no redemption that followed his great act of sacrifice, of faith, but knew that he must take the step no matter what. His obedience would lead somewhere, we know—but how could Jesus truly be assured that all things would work together for the good in that moment of decision?

Jesus is the descendant of the obedient-soul, the hearing-and obeying saint, the Lord-I-am-your-servant bloodline of Abraham, David, Mary, and others. The family line of Jesus obeys the voice of the Lord and trusts in him to be the provision we need. You and I are now a part of that line.

It’s here we discover that Jesus would not only sacrifice himself for the sake of the world as our incarnate Messiah, he would also call us to pour out our lives on behalf of others in the same, complete, fully expended way.

The Lord Will Provide.

Jesus is the Provision of God for the sacrifice, the redemption, the healing of the human heart; you and I are the living sacrifices that carry the news of that provision to the ends of the earth.

THE PRAYER

Lord Who Provides, your acts of care and provision startle us. We may never be fully confident you will act when you say you will, but make us always willing to take the leap of faith that leads to your life and ways being highlighted in this world. Use us to glorify you in celebration or sacrifice; and let us be a living sacrifice to you—carrying the message of your provision of love into the world you have put in front of us. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

THE QUESTIONS

• How has living a sacrificial life helped you to understand the act of Jesus giving himself for the world?

• With what do you most identify about his suffering and self-offering to the world?

Roots: Advent and the Family Story of Jesus by Dan Wilt