Author: Justin Hibbard

Justin Hibbard, a husband and father of three, is the Pastor of New Hope Chapel and the Director of Christianity is Jewish. Follow Justin on Twitter @JustinoHibbs.

All Things New

Justin Hibbard

Tonight at sundown, the Jewish people will celebrate the important festival of Rosh Hashanah.  Sometimes referred to as the Feast of Trumpets.  Rosh Hashanah literally means the “head of the year.”

Many may recognize that when God established the Feast of Passover, He told the Hebrews that the festival would occur during the first month (Nisan) of their calendar year.  So, how then can Rosh Hashanah – new year’s day – fall on the 7th month (Tishri) of the Hebrew calendar?

In one sense, many liken it to how a school year begins in September or how a fiscal year might begin in April or July.  On another sense, having multiple beginnings demonstrates just what Jesus declares in Revelation 21:5, “I am making everything new!”  How fitting that Rosh Hashanah always correlates with a new moon.

Unlike our New Year’s parties, which tend to be rather raucous, Rosh Hashanah is a subdued celebration marking the beginning of the Days of Awe or High Holy Days.  It is a time to reflect on God as King over creation and over our lives.

The Jewish people commemorate Rosh Hashanah through the blowing of the shofar – the ram’s horn.  The ram’s horn and Rosh Hashanah serve as reminders of how God intervened and saved Isaac’s life by turning Abraham’s attention to a ram caught in a thicket by his horns.  We Believers in Jesus the Messiah, recognize the connection between Isaac’s substitutionary ram and Jesus – “the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” (John 1:29).

The blowing of the shofar is much like a call to worship or what you might expect when a monarch enters the room.  It calls us to attention.  It heralds something new – that an event is about to begin.

Paul tells us in 1 Thessalonians 4:16-17, “For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever.”

Many take this to mean that the rapture – the resurrection of the dead and the ascension of all believers into Paradise with Jesus will occur on the Feast of Trumpets, as Israel blows the trumpet call of God.  For those who trust in Jesus, such an event will usher tremendous joy, as we experience the hope of Heaven.

But whether Jesus returns tomorrow as the sound of shofars resonate in Zion or whether He returns at another time, Rosh Hashanah is a reminder that Jesus is the God of resurrection.  He is the God who makes all things new.  As Solomon wrote in Lamentations 3:22-23, “[the Lord’s mercy and compassion] are new every morning.”

In his book Reason for God, Dr. Tim Keller writes, “The Biblical view of things is resurrection – not a future that is just a consolation for the life we never had but a restoration of the life you always wanted. This means that every horrible thing that ever happened will not only be undone and repaired but will in some way make the eventual glory and joy even greater.”

As we enter the season known as The Days of Awe, let us ask Jesus what new movement He would like to do in our lives.  Maybe we need a fresh start, maybe we’re entering a new season in life, maybe it’s time to take the next step in our spiritual journey.  No matter what it is, let us take this time to turn our hearts and lives to Jesus, knowing He loves to make all things new.

The Personality Driven Church

Justin Hibbard

Someone approached me recently and said, “Justin, we need to get our worship service better organized.”  The first thing I thought In my head was, “What are you talking about?  It’s totally organized.”  As I learned this summer through Bill Smith’s workshop on Personality Types and Prayer, I am an INFP.  In my head, everything is extremely organized – an array of cabinets and intricate file systems.  Outside of my head, not so much.  It turns out that when I think I’ve communicated something thoroughly, I probably haven’t.  And being an INFP, the first thing I tend to do is to take criticism personally (#ThingsIWishIKnew10YearsAgo).  So, I took a step back and listened as this person articulated a thoughtful idea of bringing a better level of communicated organization to our worship service.

Perhaps this is the biggest lesson I’ve learned this summer.  We all have different personalities, and each personality comes with a set of strengths, and weaknesses, and needs.  When I spoke last month on Speaking the Truth in Love, I mentioned that what we need to do before we confront an individual is to determine if the offense is an issue of sin, heresy, or personality.

It turns out personality conflicts often cause the greatest amount of disunity in churches.  And sometimes not being able to recognize that causes the greatest amount of frustration.  It’s like we can’t put our finger on it, but that person irritates us.  We think it must be some sin or character deficiency.  We might say, “They’re so unthoughtful,” or “The way they go about that just lacks spiritual maturity.”   Sometimes that might be the case, but perhaps all it is is that God created them different than us.

Recently, I was challenged by a friend with a particular thought.  Sometimes churches tend to build themselves around similarities – ethnicity, age groups, personality types, worship styles, and interests.  However, as he pointed out, the church is meant to tear down the natural homogeneous barriers that we find so comfortable.

His words come smack dab in the middle of our Life in the Body teaching, Bill Smith’s workshop on personality types, and just as we are getting back into Romans, focusing on the particular passages that deal with conflicting groups in the church.  It forces me to stop and say, “Ok, God, you obviously have something for us to learn.  What is it?”

I think the answer is this.  The greatest challenge for our small church is to love and embrace the diversity that God has created.  We can’t control who comes into our doors, but we can control what we do when they come in.  We’re all different.  We’re all quirky in our own ways.  The I-types may seem unapproachable.  The J-types may seem confrontational.  The E-types may seem too energetic.  It’s going to take a whole lot of love and forgiveness to make a diverse church unified.

Peter wisely instructs us, “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:9).  And he’s right.  The Greek word for sin is hamartia, meaning to miss the mark.  Just think, if we miss the mark with God (who is patient and slow to anger), you can imagine how much we will miss the mark when communicating or working with others.  Haven’t we all had those conversations where we just didn’t seem to be connecting?

It’s easy for us to just pass people off as weird or to choose not to spend time with them because they’re different than us.  It’s easy to gossip about someone when they do something that offends us.  But as Paul instructs us in Philippians 2, “Our attitude should be like Christ Jesus.”

So brothers and sisters, as a fellow human with various quirks and faults, I ask for lots of mercy, grace, and forgiveness.  I ask that for each of us.  Instead of seeing only the shortcomings in each other, let us choose to see the mighty Holy Spirit at work in each other.  When confrontation must happen, let us be eager to clear the air.  When there is hurting, let us be eager to forgive.  Where we might find fault, let us find an opportunity to encourage each other in our lifelong journeys to be like Jesus.  “For in Christ, there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female…” and neither INFP or ESTJ… “for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28).

Seeing Hope

Justin Hibbard

Two years ago this very day, my wife gave birth to a baby who had died in utero. The baby, who we named Hope, was only fourteen weeks. The doctors and nurses cleaned her up and allowed us to spend some time with her, saying our goodbyes. We cried and prayed over her. And though we had left the hospital on three other occasions carrying a newborn, this time we left empty-handed and empty-hearted.

The next year was particularly difficult for my wife Karlene. She asked many tough questions to which I didn’t have any answers. I wanted to solve her hurt, but nothing I could say or do could bring about relief. Indeed I had questions of my own that I buried deep down in the depths of my soul.

Ten months after the miscarriage, I made a trek to Colorado for a retreat at John Eldridge’s “Wild at Heart” men’s ministry. While there, I spent a lot of alone time praying and asking God to open my heart and heal the wounds of my past. In dramatic fashion, the Lord gave me stunning visions of His glory and spoke to my hurts and insecurities.

On one afternoon, while I was deep in prayer and meditation on the hillside nestled in the Rocky Mountains, the Lord gave me a vision. It is a vision I have only shared with my wife up until this point. In this vision, I was standing at the top of a waterfall looking down. Jesus was gently whispering, “Run strong, Justin.” I knew I was meant to jump, but I didn’t have the courage. Suddenly, Jesus ran up from behind me and grabbed me around the chest and jumped off the ledge with me. Instead of falling to the depths of the water, we soared like an eagle while He held me tightly.

Down the windy river we flew until we ended up gently stopping on a river bank some distance from the waterfall. Surrounding me was a lush, green country hillside. Beside me, a calm blue stream flowed ever so slowly. Where I stood, the river had narrowed to a mere small stream only a few feet wide. With a small leap, I could have easily crossed it.

Suddenly, Jesus was standing on the other side of the river from me. I looked at Him, and then I looked at His side. There standing beside Him on His left, holding His hand, stood a little girl. She was a young child – maybe eight or nine. She had long straight, dark hair with strands that blew gently in the breeze. Her face was soft, beautiful, and innocent.

The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew it was her. It was my Hope. Even 14 months later, I can still picture her – that moment I saw her standing with Jesus.

In my vision, tears welled up in my eyes. I wanted to hold her; I wanted to ask Jesus all sorts of questions. I couldn’t muster the words. It was as if seeing them brought this amazing sense of peace, in spite of all the unanswered questions and the deep pain. Then, as if her and Jesus’ voice mended together, they said, “I’m waiting for you. Run strong.” Jesus turned, and without any instruction, Hope turned and followed Him.” The two moved together so in-sync, it was as if Hope had been with Him for a lifetime.

As Jesus and Hope faded away in the distance, I noticed that standing beside me was my wife and three children. My hands were around their shoulders. My wife was leaning against my chest – her arms wrapped around my torso. Behind us stood a tiny cottage house.

I slowly opened my eyes, wishing I could stay in this vision forever, hoping that I would never lose the memory of seeing my little girl.

It’s been two years now since we said our final goodbyes to Hope. It’s been over a year since the Lord gave me that vision of her. I struggle to share this very intimate vision publicly. I fear that people will pass this very real and significant experience off as nonsense. It’s a vision I still don’t totally understand. Perhaps one day the nuances will become something symbolically significant – I don’t know. Perhaps someone will explain to me what this vision means better than what I can understand myself.

In the past two years, we’ve been able to minister to those who have also suffered the painful loss of a child. I grieve for those who hurt so intensely. What I discovered that day in Colorado is that healing does not come with answers. Peace and healing came that day through a miraculous encounter with the Prince of Peace – the Great Shalom. Only He has the amazing ability to tame the troubled heart and make wild the lifeless one. In seeing Him, I was given a “peace that surpasses understanding.” It is a peace not dependent on having questions answered but through encountering a Savior and Friend who holds my heart deep within His.