There’s a certain strategy to a baseball batting lineup. The leadoff batter is typically someone who is consistent at getting on base. They’re generally fast and can generate stolen bases. But their purpose is not to hit homeruns. Their purpose is simply to get on base and stay on base for the cleanup hitter, because the cleanup hitter is typically the power hitter who can bring them home.

This year for Advent, we are focusing on the “baseball players” in the story of Jesus’ birth. Last week, we looked at Zechariah – the Captain. This week, we’re focusing on his son John the Baptist – the leadoff hitter.

John the Baptist had a tremendous ministry. He had a notable following and his own disciples. He could have easily hogged the spotlight. But instead this prophet understood his place in God’s ministry. Even though many asked him if he was the Messiah, he knew that he was the one of which Isaiah prophesied. “A voice calls out in the wilderness, prepare the way for the Lord.” So when John’s younger cousin Jesus came onto the scene, he pointed to Him and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. I’m not worthy to even tie his sandal.” John the Baptist was like the leadoff batter. He knew what God called him to do and he did it faithfully.

In the game of baseball, one cannot talk about leadoff batters and leave out the name Rickey Henderson. This extremely fast leadoff batter made a name for himself getting on base and advancing to scoring position. His speed and prowess on the basepaths brought his team two world championships during his hall of fame career. Even though he was the twelve-time American League stolen base champion tallying a whopping 1,406 career stolen bases, his most valuable team achievement was scoring 2,295 runs. The game of baseball has many components, but at the end of the day, the only thing that matters is crossing home plate.

In a sense, we are all like leadoff hitters, like John the Baptist. Many of us have vibrant and intricate ministries. Many people make a name for themselves by their work in churches, books they write, and ministries they lead. However, no matter how simple or detailed, small or large our work for God’s Kingdom, the most important perspective we must have is that our ultimate goal is to point people to Jesus. As Paul said in 1 Corinthians 3:6, “I planted the church, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow.” Jesus is the power hitter. He takes our faithful efforts and makes them bear fruit.

Baseball Players of Advent – Zechariah the Captain

December 2, 2013December 5, 2013 Justin Hibbard

As any sports team will tell you, there is a clubhouse leader. Behind the scenes, these are the players that might not lead in home runs, but they lead the team by encouraging younger players, giving pep talks, and taking leadership roles on and off the field. Sometimes management gives these seasoned players the title of Captain. And sometimes, the captain doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with the coach. Sometimes the clash between the coach’s way and the captain’s way becomes a very public spectacle.

This year for Advent, we are focusing on the “baseball players” in the story of Jesus’ birth, and for the first week of Advent, we’re looking at Zechariah – the Captain.

Every year the priests of the Temple would draw lots to see who would perform the duties prescribed for the festival of Yom Kippur – the Day of Atonement – Israel’s holiest and most solemn festival. While one would consider it an honor to be chosen for such a task, it was a dangerous assignment. The priest had to carefully perform the intricate details prescribed in the Torah without deviation, including entering the Most Holy Place in the Temple to make atonement for himself and all of Israel. The High Priest was the mediator between Israel and God. He was like the one chosen for the all-star game, or the captain chosen to mediate between the coaches and the umpires, or the spokesperson selected to speak to the media on behalf of the team.

One year, Zechariah, who was Mary’s brother-in-law (and Jesus’ uncle), was chosen to perform such duties. As he stood in the Holy of Holies, the angel Gabriel appeared to him. Seeing this, he assumed he had done something wrong and that the angel was there to kill him. However, that was not the case. Gabriel appeared to Zechariah to tell him that he would have a son, even though his wife was barren and they were very old. Yet despite how many stories we read about God blessing someone considered infertile with a child, Zachariah had his doubts and was struck dumb because he didn’t believe God.

Imagine that. Here Zechariah was in the most holy place, doing the most spiritual task, encountering a heavenly being, and he still had trouble believing God. Here was a man who understood the stories of Sarai, Rachel, Hannah, and the many women who had children even though it was considered impossible. He most likely taught these stories, but when it came to believing that God could do it through Him, He lacked faith. He needed a coach to help him see the future game plan.

Sometimes even the team leaders have trouble seeing the big picture. They can get bogged down with the batting slumps, the losing streaks, and the negative media pressure. Sometimes they don’t understand what the front office is doing to build the team. And like Zechariah, they can find themselves in a place of doubt. That’s what happened to Zechariah, and he needed some time to adjust his attitude.

The great Dodger pitcher Orel Hershiser experienced this with his coach Tommy Lasorda. One time he gave up so many runs, that Tommy Lasorda came out of the dugout in a tirade and yelled at his young pitcher for being too timid. The verbal lashing was so loud that his teammates nicknamed it “the sermon on the mound.” On another occasion, the coach told Hershiser, “Son, I wish I could give you a transplant, not an arm transplant. You need a heart transplant.”

Before Zechariah could take part in the advent of the Messiah, he needed a heart transplant. For nine months, Zechariah couldn’t say a word. He couldn’t tell people what happened that day in the Holy of Holies when he encountered an angel. Before he could lead others, before he could tell the stories of how God could do the impossible, before he could be a voice of encouragement, he needed to have his heart changed and experience God’s miraculous hand.

Sometimes coaches bench the captains. They take them out of the public eye to help them focus again on what’s important. This was the case with Zechariah. And when God was done with him, he was ready to not only lead God’s people but also to lead his family and father and coach his son John the Baptist.

A Great Miracle Happened There

November 27, 2013 Justin Hibbard

While I was in Guanajuato, Mexico, I learned about how the pastor there had received a very grim cancer diagnosis a couple of years ago. Every doctor the pastor saw not only gave the same news but an even worse prognosis. The situation looked grim; however, he and his congregation continued to pray.

After rounds of chemotherapy, the pastor visited a specialist in the United States who agreed with the original prognosis but also decided to take his case to a medical review board. He returned to the pastor confused. “This cancer seems to check every box of your diagnosis, but we can’t figure out why it has responded to chemotherapy – not to mention the antiquated chemotherapy you’ve received in Mexico. The type of cancer we originally thought it was wouldn’t do that.”

When the pastor saw another doctor shortly after, she confirmed that this wasn’t the type of cancer they had been originally diagnosed. In fact, the cancer cells were already dead. He was completely healed.

Miracles are central to the Judeo-Christian faith, and God many times commanded the retelling of them so people would hear the testimony of His work. Tonight, many will begin celebrating Hanukkah. Central to this Festival of Lights is the phrase “nes gadol hayah sham” – “a great miracle happened there.” The story of Hanukkah revolves around the Maccabean revolt found in the apocryphal book of Maccabees, but it also focuses on an added tradition that one day of Temple oil lasted for eight days.

In John 10, we read that Jesus Himself was in Jerusalem for Hanukkah (the Feast of Dedication). It was there that the Jewish leaders began pressuring Him and even threatened to stone Him. Jesus responded by challenging them to look at His miracles. “I have shown you many good works from the Father. For which of these do you stone me? Do not believe me unless I do the works of my Father. But if I do them, even though you do not believe me, believe the works, that you may know and understand that the Father is in me, and I in the Father.”

How fitting that Jesus said this. It’s almost as if Jesus was challenging the Pharisees that if they were so willing to believe a tradition that may or may not be true, why would they deny the miracles that they had seen with their very eyes?

I think many hear the word “miracle” and like the Pharisees become instantaneously skeptical, as though they must find a scientific understanding to what occurred. It’s easy to look at the story of the pastor healed of cancer and just say, “Oh, well, he was just misdiagnosed… by many, many doctors.” In fact, I used to think that the presence of science negated the need for a miracle. It’s almost as if I thought, “Do we really need God since we have such incredible scientific medicine?” How many times have we neglected to credit God because we think that the healing was done totally by a doctor or a vial of medicine? But as I’ve seen God choose to use me and work in me despite my lack of ability, I find myself crediting God more and more. “Thanks God for doing that miracle. And thanks for being a God that invites others into Your miraculous work.” The Pharisees remind us that no matter how obvious God’s work is, acknowledging Him is a choice of perception.

I was reminded of that as I spoke with a woman in our congregation in the middle of a battle with cancer. As we talked the other day, she exuded joy, joking about how her wig made her look younger and sharing the good news about how the cancer has already shrunk 30%. She explained how this experience has caused her to lean on Jesus, who absolutely can do anything He chooses. Moved by her attitude and perception, I shared with her the story of the Mexican pastor healed from cancer. It almost seemed like God had showed me that story to encourage this dear woman.

I think it’s fitting that this year Hanukkah begins around the time of Thanksgiving – something it rarely does. Hanukkah is a celebration of God’s provision, and during Thanksgiving we remember all that God has done for us. Let me encourage you to share with others the miracles that God has done for and around you. You never know how God will perpetuate His work and use it to change lives. I learned that lesson a couple of weeks ago as I preached in Mexico. I shared the story of two children, Joseph and Alannah, who suffered through surgery on the same night and came through by God’s faithful hand. Nine people who heard of God’s work came forward to receive Jesus that day. God had miraculously healed two children one night and some days later in a place far away, He used His miracle to save nine more.

The Perfect Storm. The Perfect God.

November 20, 2013November 20, 2013 Justin Hibbard

Have you ever wondered why Jesus led His disciples onto the Sea of Galilee, knowing that there would be a giant squall that nearly sank the boat?

That was the question I proposed last week as I preached to a lovely congregation in Guanajuato, Mexico. But little did I know that I was going to live the message I preached.

The story begins with the church generously asking me if I would preach the following Sunday. There were so many reasons to decline the offer – my Spanish is rusty, I’m shy, there are so many others who could give a much more dynamic sermon, we had to leave on the following Sunday around noon. But I knew these were just excuses. I knew that this was something God was requesting of me.

And so I began my sermon preparation, asking the very important first question, “What should I speak about?”

Amidst the ferocious, night winds that pounded our hacienda in the mountains surrounding Guanajuato, followed by peaceful calm mornings, the Lord whispered the story of Jesus calming the storm into my heart.

I read the story anew, taking note of how the disciples worked to keep the boat afloat until suddenly they were forced to wake Jesus. I saw how they treated their Rabbi as their last resort and then how they accused Him for not caring about their well-being. The Lord opened my heart to how prayer changes everything – how God sent them into this perfect storm to demonstrate to them how perfect He is – how a big God can calm big storms.

I had enough material to write a book. Oh, if only I were going to preach in English.

As the week carried on, and we traveled and filled our days with activities, it was clear that I wasn’t going to be able to have my typical 15 – 30 hours of sermon prep time. A couple of times throughout the week, I even had dreams of showing up ill-prepared to preach with no visual presentation (my equivalent of dreams where you’re naked in a public place). I began getting nervous, wondering how I was going to possibly get this done.

I decided I needed to consult the Rabbi sleeping in the bottom of the boat. “Jesus, I’m not sure how this is all going to work out, but I’m trusting you. You asked me to do this – to cross this sea, so I’m trusting you to get me through it.”

By the time Saturday rolled around, I had most of my message written out. Writing out sermons is something I never do, but I trembled at the thought of standing on the platform, stuttering through a microphone as I reached for long-forgotten vocabulary words. That Saturday night, Estela Price selflessly put her packing and sleep on hold to help me fix mis-conjugated verbs and poor word choices. We finished at 2 AM, but by the time we left for church around 9 AM the next morning, I hadn’t even fully read it over once.

The waves began crashing against my brain. “You’re just going to read this? Didn’t you see the dynamic preacher last week? This is how you’re going to follow it up? This is how you’re going to represent American pastors?” I wanted to sink.

I paused. “Jesus, this is your work. This is your message. Speak through me.”

Armed with no striking visual slides to take the attention off my nervous fidgeting, I stood in front of this beautiful congregation. I simply read the script – walking them through the story of the little boat that almost sank, telling them about the peace that Jesus offers, encouraging them to have a life filled with prayer. I prayed with them – a little anxious that I didn’t have any notes – but trusting that God would put the words in my mouth. I encouraged them to invite Jesus into a fear that they had in the past, the present, or the future. One of the things that came to my lips was, “Maybe your fear has to do with a death of a family member or friend.” My eyes were closed, but I could hear sniffles – the sound of Jesus calming storms.

After I sat down, the Elder that invited me to preach very graciously thanked me and then asked if there was anyone who wanted to invite the Prince of Peace in their life. People didn’t hesitate. Eight or nine people rushed forward. I learned later that some of them were from a family that experienced a death in the past week and decided to come to church for the first time.

In an amazing act of generosity, the Elder asked if I would lead them to Jesus, and so I prayed with and for them. “Jesus, I give you my life. I want you to be my Lord and my God.”

Everything about what happened last week should conclude with me telling you that I gave a very awful sermon, put a congregation to sleep, and embarrassed myself. Never have I been so uncomfortable and so unprepared in relation to preaching. But something different happened. I understand Paul’s words from 2 Corinthians 12:9 when he said, “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

This story isn’t about a dynamic sermon given by a confident pastor. Oh no, quite the contrary. This is about a God who takes our weak efforts and blows away our expectations. I’ve never given a sermon followed by people running forward to receive Jesus; there’s no logical reason why it should happen while I was reading a message in my rusty second language. Sometimes there is no human logic behind what God does and how He does it. There are only miracles. This story is not about a perfect vessel. It’s about a perfect God resting inside the stern.

As we flew home from Dallas to Washington D.C., I looked out the window and saw an enormous, beautiful moon. It appeared thousands of miles closer, but I knew it was merely an illusion. Moons don’t change size or come closer. It’s a matter of perception, for when they’re on the horizon next to objects that seem large to us, we appreciate their grandiose size. So it is a true with God. The waves of our circumstances and trials seem overwhelming. God often brings us to those enormous storms to show us just how big He is.

Mark 4 tells us that the disciples weren’t the only ones on the Sea of Galilee that day. There were a lot of little vessels being tossed and inundated by the tumultuous waves. And just as they were all affected by the storm, they were all blessed by Jesus’ miracle. While I faced my own storm and saw Jesus’ work, there are some that will forever tell the story from their vantage point about how Jesus showed up one Sunday morning in the middle of the storm and said, “Peace. Be still.”

Two Surgeries. One Big God.

November 7, 2013November 7, 2013 Justin Hibbard

Last night I sat on my couch browsing my Facebook feed. Suddenly, my heart sank as I read that baby Joseph Coleman (Steve and Julie’s grandson and Melanie’s nephew), who was recovering in the hospital from an operation the other day, had been rushed back into emergency surgery after he suddenly crashed.

As I waited for the next update, I saw a post from our long-time friends Corey and Meghan Fitzgerald. Their daughter Alannah had been bitten on the lip by a dog earlier that day and was having plastic surgery. My heart sank deeper. “God,” I pleaded, “how much can this family go through?” They’ve had such a tough year trying to find a diagnosis for their youngest son Declan. He’s been through just about every test imaginable.

I sat on the couch. I waited. I prayed. I felt helpless. Two little children in surgeries. Two families weighed down with this pain. I wished I could be somewhere – somewhere more useful. If only I could be of more help to Joseph’s parents Daniel and Bethany or Alannah’s parents Corey and Meghan. If only I could do something more than just sit here and…

Pray.

It seems so little. So cliché. So passive. So unhelpful. “I’ll pray for you.” Really? That’s it. That’s all I can offer?

Sometimes it is.

As Jesus often reminds us, sometimes principles of the Kingdom of Heaven seem opposite to what our world values. How often do some see a crisis and want to dive in and fix it? Yet, sometimes we’re faced with the realization that there’s nothing we can do. Last night I was reminded of something Julie said following all of the uncertainty of the first couple months of her grandson Joseph’s life. “I didn’t know how to pray any more. I had to let God pray through me.” Paul reminds us in Romans 8:26, “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” We’re so weak, so overwhelmed, that we don’t even have the capability of praying with words.

And that’s okay.

Prayer, even when we don’t have the words, is the posture of humility before God. It is a reminder to ourselves that there is One who is able to do anything. It is to be at one place and time and peer into the vast universe seeing the One who is able to be at every place at every time in the past, the present, and the future. It is admitting that we can truly do nothing apart from the One who can do it all. Prayer is opening the doors of our heart, mind, soul, and strength and giving the King of kings His throne. Prayer is not so much inviting God to work, as it is God inviting us to watch Him work. Prayer is the most powerful tool mankind has because it is rooted in the foundation of the All-Powerful.

Last night, I, like Jesus’ three disciples, fell asleep. Jesus was still praying. He was moving mountains. He was binding the wounds of little Alannah. He was raising little Joseph back to life. He was comforting those in the waiting room and those praying in their living room. Time and space are no obstacles for God. What was, is, and what will be is perpetually in the hands of the Eternal Great I AM.