Category: Reflections Blog

The Light at the End of the Holocaust

Justin Hibbard1 Comment

Posted from Christianity is Jewish.  This message also available on podcast. 

Some years ago, at a Christian school where I taught, we had the privilege of hearing a Holocaust survivor come and speak to us. His stories, as you can imagine, were horrific. It was though a time capsule had been opened, transporting one of the most surreal and evil moments of all of history into my very presence.

But while this man was sharing his story, talking about his struggle to survive and to forgive, something was going on outside of the auditorium. One of the students at school was walking around, drawing swastikas and other hate messages around the grounds and on the side of the buildings.

If you’re like me, you probably find it difficult to understand how someone could be so void of compassion, that he would write hate messages on the day a Holocaust survivor – an elderly man – came to visit. I mean, hasn’t this man been through enough? How could someone dare do such a thing?

Something else happened just today. Someone, apparently a Holocaust denier, posted a couple of messages on our Christianity is Jewish Facebook page. He said some things about the Holocaust being a hoax, and how we’ve all been duped. I ended up deleting the messages and banning him, but I’m just astounded. How can someone deny the Holocaust?

When I think of the Holocaust…. when I think of the 6 million Jews that were annihilated along with 5 million others… when I think of the men, the women, the little boys and girls, and babies that were sent to death chambers… that’s the question I always seem to begin with. “How could someone…?”

The answer is evil. Absolute, sick evil.

Not too long ago, I went to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum down the road in Washington D.C. If you’ve never been, I can’t tell you how graphic it is. Seeing the piles of shoes that once belonged to real people. Articles that were removed from prisoners before they were cremated. Videos of bulldozers pulling up mass graves. Images of men reduced to nothing but skin and bones. Videos of people shamed for being Jewish – shaved, stripped naked, and forced to walk the streets. Testimonials of people whose neighbors lined their doorway as the Nazi’s pushed them out of their home. They weren’t there to say goodbye. They were there to loot their belongings.

It’s a glimpse at evil. Absolute, sick evil.

If there is any doubt that evil – that Satan himself exists in our world. We need not look far. The Holocaust is not so distant that it is left to history books. There are still some that walk the earth today who lived through such hell. How could such terrible things happen in the mid 20th century?

The answer is evil. Absolute, sick evil.

But I think today, this Holocaust Remembrance Day, is not just a day to remember evil but to remember good. I admit, it seems difficult to think of good thoughts in the midst of such horrific genocide. But if all we remember is evil, then evil has won a legacy. After all, those that do evil don’t care for what they’re remembered but only that they are remembered.

At the end of the Holocaust Memorial Museum is a section dedicated to all those who helped the Jewish people. Oscar Schindler, Corrie Ten Boom, the list goes on and on. Some lived to tell the tale. Some were discovered and faced the same fate as those they tried to help. But it serves as a reminder that in the midst of evil, good still existed. And in the end, good prevailed over evil.

For me, and this may seem odd to you, what the Holocaust reminds me of is a living and faithful God. I know (believe me I know) that many lost their faith in the midst of the concentration camps. I can’t say I blame them. But from my vantage point, and one of luxury in comparison to those who experienced such horror, I think about how much the holocaust proves that a good God exists.

Let me explain.

We have a word for darkness. Yet darkness is not a real thing… at least scientifically speaking. It is only the absence of light. Yet we identify it. We name it. It’s real to us.

There are many that deny God. Many that say, “He doesn’t exist. He isn’t real.” And yet, 99% of the world would look at what happened to the Jewish people during the Holocaust and say, “That’s evil. Absolute, sick evil.” While they may struggle to acknowledge God, there is an overwhelming consensus regarding His absence. It’s called evil. Absolute, sick evil.

The presence of evil demands the presence of God. Dare I say we know evil because we know good. We can identify darkness because we know what light looks like, and when it is gone, we call it something. Is it any wonder why the Scriptures use the word light to describe God? Corrie Ten Boom, a holocaust survivor wrote, “In darkness, God’s truth shines most clear.”

Now I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I know why God allows bad things to happen. Why God allowed the Holocaust – why He allowed evil to prevail (for a time) is a mystery to us. But the fact that it stopped… the fact that daylight came, even hours beyond its hopeful arrival, speaks of a God.
We have lots of words to describe Adolf Hitler. He was a maniacal, narcissistic, arrogant, destructive, racist, masochistic, monstrous dictator. He was the incarnate of absolute, sick evil. The fact that he is no more, demonstrates that even the most horrific evil comes to an end.

I hate to say this, but Hitler was not the first of his kind, and I’d be a fool to think he would be the last. Even today, there are those who deny the Holocaust and once again threaten to annihilate the Jewish people.

And in the midst of contemplating how many have tried to exterminate the Jewish people, I have to pause and ask, “How is it possible that these people still survive?” They were enslaved and their were babies systematically executed in Egypt, they were constantly at war, constantly threatened by neighboring nations. They were attacked by the Assyrians and Babylonians and carried off into exile. The story of Esther chronicles a man named Haman who just about carried out the plot to wipe them off the face of the earth. They were tortured by Antiochus and the Greeks. The Romans, after occupying their land, destroyed their capital and expelled them from their own country. They existed without a homeland for nearly 2,000 years, and most places they went, they were not welcomed.

Many people tried to carry out Satan’s plan to be the one who would wipe out God’s chosen people. Adolf Hitler was just one of the devil’s many pawns.

And yet evil, even in its most persistent and sophisticated form, did not prevail.

Perhaps the greatest evidence of the existence and power of God is the Jewish people. Think of all the nations that are listed in Scripture – the Philistines, the Amalekites, the Amorites… they no longer exist. And even the great empires – the Babylonians, the Assyrians, the Romans have all disappeared into the historic moonlight. Their kingdoms fell, their national identities faded away. Nazi Germany, as vast as it was, has come and gone. But the Jewish people? They still remain.

Those that oppose Israel now may seem fierce and problemsome. But if history continues to repeat itself, as it has for some 3500 years, they too will vanish.

Evil may be great. But God is greater. Light always overcomes darkness.

At the beginning of Hosea’s prophecy, God told the Northern Kingdom of Israel what would become of them because of their perverse idolatry and unfaithfulness. But even amidst the cry of judgment, God says, “Yet the Israelites will be like the sand on the seashore, which cannot be measured or counted. In the place where it was said to them, ‘You are not my people,’ they will be called ‘children of the living God’” (Hosea 1:10).

God’s faithfulness is so relentless that He would look at the adulterous sins of His most beloved and remember His promise to their father Abraham.

To me, the fact that the Jewish people still remain, the fact that they have retained an identity even while the rest of the world has faded into forgotten irrelevance, speaks of a living and faithful God. In remembering the darkness of the Holocaust, we see a God who will not let even the most horrific evil forever eclipse His luminous glory or His beloved children.

The Wilderness Experience

Justin Hibbard

Many of the great biblical heroes went through a period in the wilderness. After living his first forty years as a prince in Egypt, Moses fled to the wilderness for forty years before returning to lead his people on a forty-year journey through the wilderness towards the promised land. The Holy Spirit led Jesus to the wilderness where He fasted for forty days. It was during this time that He experienced Satan’s temptation. We could mention others whose spiritual journey included a stint in the wilderness – Noah, Elijah, David, Jonah, and John.

Today is Ash Wednesday and marks the first day of Lent. Perhaps you’ve only considered Lent to be a tradition of certain denominations – Catholic, Anglican, Lutheran, etc. I think of Lent – the forty-day period leading up to Easter – as an opportune time to journey with the Lord. After all, the Lord often used a time period of forty to change, test, grow, and challenge His people.

As a few of the teachers on Sunday morning have mentioned in our current sermon series – The Master, the Lord teaches us through process. The greatest lessons in life don’t happen in the classroom. They come through experience. Yet, we often don’t sense the lesson happening while we’re experiencing it. It’s usually only afterwards, after we have processed our experience, that we realize there was something God was teaching us through the journey.

Let me issue a challenge for you. Let these next forty days be one where you ask God to take you on a wilderness experience. What does that look like? Here are three characteristics of the wilderness experiences we see in Scripture.

First, wilderness journeys we see in the Bible are marked by solitude. While it’s probably impossible for you to get away and be alone for forty days, the lesson can be just as powerful. Making this time a time of spiritual growth alone is extremely effective because it is spurred by our own relationship with God, rather than something we’re doing because of someone else. Many have a spiritual life that only exists because of their spouse or their friends. In other words, it’s not their own. A wilderness experience can be the time where you develop your own faith and relationship with God, not just live someone else’s. Spiritual solitude builds character.

A second characteristic of these wilderness experiences is challenge. Elijah began his wilderness experience wallowing in fear and depression. He wanted to die. Israel grumbled and complained throughout their wilderness experience. They asked to go back to being slaves. Challenges and commitments are difficult. Jesus took on the difficult task of fasting for forty days in His wilderness journey. You may decide to do some sort of spiritual exercise for this journey such as a daily commitment of fasting and praying. You may not have anything in mind but find that God has given you a challenge. Whatever it is, you can be sure that the challenges you face build strength and stamina.

A third characteristic of these wilderness experiences is preparation. Jonah needed three days in the belly of a fish to get his heart right before prophesying to Ninevah. Moses needed forty years to separate himself from his Egyptian identity, embrace God, and return as Israel’s leader. Jesus’ forty days prepared Him for His battle with Satan and His intense ministry. God uses wilderness experiences to prepare us because preparation builds a confidence and readiness to pursue God’s mission for our lives.

Baseball Players of Advent: Joseph the Sacrifice Out

Justin Hibbard

AdventBaseball-JosephWhat young boy hasn’t stepped onto a baseball field, stood beside home plate, and pretended to swing for the fences?  We picture ourselves in the pressure of batting in the 9th inning, with two outs, the bases loaded, and then knocking the ball out of the park to win the game in clutch fashion.  We dream of living that moment depicted in the movie the Natural starring Robert Redford.  However, more often than those dramatic moments, baseball games are won through the small details – the sacrifice flies, the executed bunts, the hits and runs.  Instead of telling their player to swing for the fences, crafty managers will sometimes ask players to hit the ball in a way that will get the batter out while advancing the runner.  It’s a strategy known as small ball.

This year for Advent, we are focusing on the “baseball players” in the story of Jesus’ birth.  We’ve looked at Zechariah the Captain, John the Baptist the leadoff hitter, Simeon the Franchise Veteran, and this week, we’re taking a look at Jesus’ adopted father Joseph – the batter who was asked to sacrifice.

Imagine being engaged to a girl and finding out she’s pregnant.  Imagine for just a moment all the thoughts that would run through your head?  How could she do this to me?  Who is the father?  What if my church community thinks I did this?  What will they think of me?  How do I explain this to people?  You can imagine Joseph’s desperate dilemma.

We’re not told much about Joseph, but we’re told that he was a righteous man, and instead of publicly humiliating Mary (which he was entitled to do), he decided that he would break-up with her quietly.  However, just as he had made up his mind to divorce Mary, an angel of the Lord visited him in a dream and informs him that Mary’s child was conceived by the Holy Spirit, and this child would save his people from their sins.

In obedience and trust in God, Joseph married Mary.  It was a decision that required a lot of sacrifice.  Every husband dreams of a wedding night with his bride, yet, Joseph waited to consummate his marriage until after Jesus’ birth.  Every father looks at their child, mesmerized with the idea that they co-produced this human being.  Joseph would look on Mary’s first born knowing the baby was not biologically his.  One of man’s oldest traditions is to name their son, but Jesus’ name was chosen for him.  On a couple of occasions, Joseph would have to move his family and pick up his life in order to protect his adopted son.

Joseph is like the superstar power hitter that was asked to bunt.  You can imagine the important game.  There’s runners on base, the team is behind, only an inning or two remain.  This is the moment to be clutch.  However, instead of telling the all-star power hitter to swing for the fences, the coach says, “I want you to bunt the ball. I want you to advance the runners and in the process give yourself up.”  It might infuriate a big hitter.  Not only will they miss their opportunity to shine in the spotlight or make ESPN’s Top Ten, the decision won’t better their personal batting statistics.  You can imagine how much the home crowd would boo the manager if they saw their best hitter square up to bunt the ball in a clutch moment.  A decision like that would send many all-stars into the eye of the camera or the Twittersphere to vent their displeasure about their coach’s decision.  But the best team players understand that the game is much bigger than just one person.  They understand that more often than not in baseball it’s the sacrifice out that wins the game.

Joseph teaches us what humility and service to God looks like.  He had so much at stake – his career, his reputation, his own satisfaction, and instead of thinking about himself, he sacrificed everything for the Kingdom of God.  While Jesus, as the Son of God, didn’t need an earthly example to follow, He certainly received it in His biological father Joseph.  Joseph committed his life to serving his adopted son and Messiah.  He may not have realized it at first, but that became his life mission and his legacy.

Baseball Players of Advent: Simeon the Franchise Veteran

Justin Hibbard

AdventBaseball-SimeonWho doesn’t love winning the championship?  Who doesn’t tie their cleats in April dreaming of holding the trophy in October?  At the end of the season, when only one team celebrates, there’s a peculiarity that emerges.  The new players are excited, jumping up and down, showering each other with champagne.  They’ve completed quite the feat.   But the veterans, especially the ones that have waited their whole careers for that moment, they lift the trophy like a giant weight off their shoulder.  The way they cry over it, the way they kiss it, the way they cherish it – their long suffering produces an unmatched appreciation.  They haven’t just played the season for that moment.  They’ve played their entire careers for that moment.

This year for Advent, we are focusing on the “baseball players” in the story of Jesus’ birth.  We’ve looked at Zechariah the Captain, and John the Baptist he Leadoff Batter.  This week we’re focussing on Simeon – the Franchise Veteran.

In Luke 2, we’re told that Simeon was a righteous and devout man who had the Holy Spirit on him.  This old man was living for one promise – the Lord told him that he would not die until he had seen the Messiah.  Eight days after Jesus’ birth, the Lord led him to the Temple.  As he waited there, Joseph and Mary entered, carrying their newborn to the priest to be circumcised and dedicated.  Simeon didn’t hesitate.  Like a seasoned player waiting to get his hands on a trophy, Simeon grabbed Jesus and began singing praises.

We can imagine the fear and awkwardness that Joseph and Mary must have felt.  Knowing that they were charged with caring for the Messiah, they must have lived with a heightened sense of awareness.  This trip to the Temple was most likely their first public appearance, and right away a crazy old man snatched Jesus right from their arms.

As they soon found out, this man was more than a stranger.  He was a prophet.  They didn’t fully understand the weight of the baby in their arms, but Simeon knew.  He was finally holding the Messiah.

Joseph and Mary were thrown very quickly into the story of Advent.  The angelic visitations, the virgin birth, the challenges that came with parenting the Messiah, the things people said about their baby – it probably seemed like a giant whirlwind to them.  How many times they must have asked each other, “What just happened?”

But Simeon, he was a man waiting for this very moment.  Like the veteran who is handed the trophy and the microphone, years of longing and hoping poured forth from his heart like pure gold.  Lou Gherig’s words, “I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth,” were enshrined into baseball’s legacy. Simeon’s words would be enshrined into the Gospel forever.

“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you may dismiss your servant in peace.  For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all nations: a light for revelation to the Gentiles and the glory of your people Israel.  This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed.  And a sword will pierce your own soul too.”

Simeon teaches us the beauty of waiting on the Lord.  Often times we pass off the Lord’s promises because we haven’t invested our heart into it.  Jesus aptly said, “Where your heart is, there your treasure is also.”  As Simeon demonstrates, when our hearts are fixated on God and His promises, we will wait, hope, and trust in Him.  And when the Lord decides to faithfully fulfill those promises, they will seem all the sweeter to us.  “Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus” is the hymn of veterans who appreciate the glory that comes through long suffering, waiting, and hoping.

Baseball Players of Advent – John the Baptist the Leadoff Batter

Justin Hibbard

AdventBaseball-John

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

Justin Hibbard

AdventBaseball-ZechariahAs 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

Justin Hibbard

hannukahWhile 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.

Justin Hibbard

Christ in the Storm on the Sea of GalileeLudolf Backhuysen, 1695Have 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.

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.

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.