“...As people approach the perch, most everyone has the same look on their faces regardless of where they’re coming from or what they’re currently going through.
There are the hurried moms and dads who just crawled out of the van, struggling to get the kids to Sunday School on time. Both have a question in their eyes: “Is there grace for me too, pastor?” Or maybe it’s a friend that is having an ongoing faith crisis, who for some reason or another pulled herself out of bed, filled the tumbler with coffee, and came anyway. When she and I make eye contact, you can tell she’s suddenly surprised by herself - she’s darkening the doors of a church, and as she gets closer, I can tell she’s got the same question in her eyes, too... “Is there grace for me, pastor?”
Finally, my wife walks up the sidewalk. The kids blow past me, yelling, “Hey Daddy!” as they head for the donuts. Jana is a woman who has never been fond of the title “pastor’s wife.” I like that about her. This isn’t because she doesn’t love my vocation, occupation, or the church. She just doesn’t need another “role” to fill any more than anyone else here does. And when I see her, she can see that my eyes are always asking the same question that everyone else has already asked: “Is there grace for me too?” And she always says, something like “I’m so glad to be here today! Jesus loves you, Alex.”
And so this morning, I want to just take a few moments and walk through Psalm 23 with you. This undoubtedly is the most famous Psalm in Scripture, and aside from John 3:16 is the most well-known passage in the Bible. David, King of Israel, pens this Psalm in a very personal way. David skips the flowery rhetoric that passes for “worship” on Christian radio. He’s also not an angry, argumentative armchair theologian, straining out every theological gnat. David is not speaking to, for, or with the entire congregation of Israel. He speaks in very personal ways about who God is to him and how he relates to him personally. I love this because he knows this art piece isn’t going to be confined to a journal entry but is to be included in the hymnbook catalog for the whole nation to sing! David was aware that God not only sees a crowd, he sees faces. God doesn’t merely count numbers; he knows names. God is not generally aware of the nation as a whole but is present, immanent, and available to a person. Psalm 23 is for the person asking with their eyes, “Is there grace for me too, pastor?”
David uses two metaphors to describe God. The first is a shepherd, and the second is a host on a wait staff. In both scenarios, King David is the one in need of protection, provision, and guidance. He’s the receiver of grace upon grace.
He begins:
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
We use the word “Pastor” to describe the dirty, draining, diligent work of a shepherd. David opens with the confession that his deepest needs will not be met by the military, politics, the nation, and even his own self. God is his shepherd, and nothing can change that. Many of us are worried about the state of our city, our country, and our world. We are glued to our screens, guessing what tomorrow may bring. This morning you might be at your wit’s end, and you’re asking, “Is there grace for me too, pastor?” And David says to you, “the Lord is your shepherd. You are not alone.”
He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.
Notice that David says that his shepherd knows what’s best for him, taking him to pleasant and safe places. Maybe you had your heart broken this year? Perhaps your business suffered tremendously? For some, your marriage has been through the wringer. After 23 weeks, you’re asking “Is there grace for me too, pastor?” “I sure need a break.” “I need to lay down.” “Is there any water nearby?” David says, “Oh yes! I hope you like the colors green and blue.”
He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
If you know David’s story, then you know that his soul was often in need of a God-sized restoration. David understood that his throne would be established forever, but that’s not because of his flawless moral track record. It will be by grace alone. To have your soul turned around or inside out is quite the predicament because can’t really reach inside and untangle the mess within any more than a person can perform heart surgery on himself. Perhaps by this point in life, the king realized that even anointed men and women can go astray and that the deepest soul-work must be done by God himself. Maybe you’ve lost your way over the last 23 weeks apart, and your soul is somewhere out there with the prodigal son hungover in a pigsty, and you’re wondering this morning, “Is there grace for me too, pastor?” David says, “Oh yes! The tangled up yarn of your soul is no match for the fingers of God.”
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
David describes the fact that though he’s the king of Israel, chosen and anointed by God, he, too, must still walk through the valley o,f the shadow of death. All of life is learning to let go. We let go of our friends. We let go of family members. In the end, we let go of our own selves. The valley of the shadow of death can pop up in any place. It can look like a hospital waiting room. Sometimes it looks like or a late-night fight with your spouse. Sometimes it’s in your car when you remember what happened to you so long ago and nobody knows that it happened. We all find ourselves in this valley. Maybe over the last 23 weeks, you’ve found yourself there, and you’re asking, “Is there grace for me too, pastor?” David says, “Look to the shepherd’s hands and what do you see? In his right hand he has club for the bears, lions, and foxes. And in his left there’s a shepherd staff to pull you back close to his side.”
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Though radically different occupations, the shifting of the image from Shepherd to Banquet Host still communicates the heart, intentions, and actions of God. Like you and me, even kings have enemies, get hungry, and enjoy dessert on the house. What kind of God chooses such humility? Here we see Almighty God, the Divine Waiter, with his apron on, preparing a table for his cherished David. The thing about Yahweh is that if he’s in the mood to celebrate, he doesn’t have to wait until the enemies are all gone to finally pour the best wine and enjoy his friends. Far from it! “Today is the day of salvation!” “Right here in the middle of the chaos, we are going to enjoy being together!” How long has it been since you enjoyed a true uninterrupted Sabbath with God? Not only does God prepare a meal, but he anoints David with oil. David knows he’s king. So why the reminder? Because a title doesn’t give David the power, strength, wisdom, courage, or integrity to lead the nation – but anointing does. A relationship does. Maybe this morning you feel far from God and aren’t up to the task ahead of you. Perhaps you’re asking, “Is there grace for me too, pastor?”
David says, “You are chosen, anointed, and empowered. God is not running out of water or wine! And if he wants to turn one into the other, he will do just that! The cup is overflowing, and the kitchen is stocked! You have only one thing to do today – enjoy it!
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
As David finishes his meal, he puts down the utensils, wipes his mouth, and stares out the window. After a moment, deep, gut-level gratitude wells up within him. He says out loud to God, his fellow dinner guests, and most certainly to his own soul, “surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life...” Like those of you who are asking today, “Is there grace for me too, pastor?” David has not forgotten the pain of the past, the presence of the enemies, or tomorrow’s rainy forecast. It is with these things in mind that David says, “mercy and goodness are always right on my heels!” And as he draws his final breath, asking, “Is there grace for me too, pastor?” He assures himself that Goodness and Mercy will swallow him up entirely and that “he will in the house of the Lord forever.” Amen.
”
Phos Hilaron
“Hail, gladdening Light, of His pure glory poured Who is the immortal Father, heavenly, blest, Holiest of Holies, Jesus Christ our Lord!
Now we are come to the sun’s hour of rest; The lights of evening round us shine; We hymn the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit divine!
Worthiest art Thou at all times to be sung With undefiled tongue, Son of our God, Giver of life, alone: Therefore in all the world Thy glories, Lord, they own.”
Anima Christi
“Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O Good Jesus, hear me.
Within your wounds hide me.
Permit me not to be separated from you.
From the wicked foe, defend me.
At the hour of my death, call me
and bid me come to you
That with your saints I may praise you
For ever and ever.
Amen.”
When the Light Hits Just Right
“Then, when the light hits just right, those sacred, humble, bone-crushing and soul-restoring words of Jesus come piercing through; shining, sparkling, twinkling like a Christmas tree – “Come to me.” Those words of the Holy Stranger in the dark are suddenly transfigured into the words of your Closest Friend; God’s beloved Son. ”
Coming to Jesus
“Coming to Jesus is as hard as telling the whole truth about the worst thing you’ve ever done. Coming to Jesus is as difficult as admitting to someone else that what was done to you actually happened. Coming to Jesus requires the fearless resolve of a five-year-old to get out of the bed and shut the closet door on the monster that lurks in the dark between the hangers. Coming to Jesus is serious business because your soul is no laughing matter.”
A Carrot in the Hunting Rifle
““Ye must be born again.” Those two words; born again. They either mean everything or they mean nothing to someone. We see them on a homemade sign in the end zone of a football game. Sometimes they’re slapped up on an overpass amidst all the graffiti. Sometimes they’re on the moniker of a Missionary Baptist Church out in the countryside somewhere. Born again. When Jesus said the words “born again” he wasn’t coming up with another way to say “evangelical.” He was putting a carrot in the hunting rifle.”
Jesus is Not An Entertainer, CEO, or Grump
“When Jesus says “Come to Me and I will give you rest”, you’ve got to make sure not to confuse the Jesus of Scripture with the carnival Jesus that gets paraded around in popular evangelicalism today. The Son of God is not an entertainer. He is not selling snake oil. He is not performing magic tricks to wow the crowd. Jesus offers your soul rest is not looking for employees to hire or fans to help stoke is low self-esteem. He’s neither needy nor a show off. See him for who he really is. Listen to what the Scriptures actually have to say about him. Let him speak for himself. Banish the false images that you collected along the way from a parent, a teacher, or someone else that distorted his smile. the king of Israel and Savior of the world is not a grump. I repeat: Jesus is not a grump.”
Annie Dillard: The Rake in the Grass
“The joke of the world is less like a banana peel than a rake, the old rake in the grass, the one you step on, foot to forehead. It all comes together. In a twinkling. You have to admire the gag for its symmetry, accomplishing all with one right angle, the same right angle which accomplishes all philosophy. One step on the rake and its mind under matter once again. You wake up with a piece of tree in your skull. You wake up with fruit on your hands. You wake up in a clearing and see yourself, ashamed. You see your own face and it’s seven years old and there’s no knowing why, or where you’ve been since. We’re tossed broadcast into time like so much grass, some ravening god’s sweet hay. You wake up and a plane falls out of the sky.”
Death: God's Cup of Tea
“Trust him. And when you have done that, you are living the life of grace. No matter what happens to you in the course of that trusting - no matter how many waverings you may have, no matter how many suspicions that you have bought a poke with no pig in it, no matter how much heaviness and sadness your lapses, vices, indispositions, and bratty whining may cause you - you believe simply that Somebody Else, by his death and resurrection, has made it all right, and you just say thank you and shut up. The whole slop-closet full of mildewed performances (which is all you have to offer) is simply your death; it is Jesus who is your life. If he refused to condemn you because your works were rotten, he certainly isn’t going to flunk you because your faith isn’t so hot. You can fail utterly, therefore, and still live the life of grace. You can fold up spiritually, morally, or intellectually and still be safe. Because at the very worst, all you can be is dead - and for him who is the Resurrection and the Life, that just makes you his cup of tea.”
MLK's lesson on How we Depend on the Whole World!
“It really boils down to this: that all life is interrelated. We are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied into a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directionally, affects all indirectly. We are made to live together because of the interrelated structure of reality. Did you ever stop to think that you can’t leave for your job in the morning without being dependent on most of the world? You get up in the morning and go to the bathroom and reach over for the sponge, and that’s handed to you by a Pacific islander. You reach for a bar of soap, and that’s given to you at the hands of a Frenchman. And then you go into the kitchen to drink your coffee for the morning, and that’s poured into your cup by a South American. And maybe you want tea: that’s poured into your cup by a Chinese. Or maybe you’re desirous of having cocoa for breakfast, and that’s poured into your cup by a West African. And then you reach over for your toast, and that’s given to you at the hands of an English-speaking farmer, not to mention the baker. And before you finish eating breakfast in the morning, you’ve depended on more than half of the world. This is the way our universe is structured, this is its interrelated quality. We aren’t going to have peace on earth until we recognize this basic fact of the interrelated structure of all of reality.
”
Fellowship of the Unashamed
“I’m part of the fellowship of the unashamed. I have the Holy Spirit’s power. The die has been cast. I have stepped over the line. The decision has been made–I’m a disciple of his. I won’t look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still. My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, my future is secure. I’m finished and done with low living, sight walking, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tamed visions, worldly talking, cheap living, and dwarfed goals.
I no longer need preeminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits, or popularity. I don’t have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded. I now live by faith, lean in his presence, walk by patience, am uplifted by prayer, and I labor with power.
My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way rough, my companions are few, my Guide reliable, my mission clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded, or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the enemy, pander at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.
I won’t give up, shut up, let up, until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, preached up for the cause of Christ. I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go till he comes, give till I drop, preach till all know, and work till he stops me. And, when he comes for his own, he will have no problem recognizing me… my banner will be clear!”
”
Come to Me
“Come to me, and I will give you rest.”
Some of us grow up unchallenged; enjoying certain privileges that result in delaying the command to come and receive rest until some other day.
Money, health, and a sense of belonging to your people are all wonderful gifts that are not to be despised. At the same time, those luxuries can establish a profound distance between the Man of Sorrows and those who enjoy our comforts. However, given enough time, the winds of life beat on the ship long enough and hard enough. We all eventually find ourselves saying, "My God, I need more than a break. I need whatever it is that the Messiah has to offer."
A death. A broken relationship. A grief as big as the ocean itself. It's in the hospital room at 2:00AM or on the living room couch with your face in your hands. It's in the therapist's office that you never dreamt you'd find yourself. The moment comes for us, and we suddenly find out just how tired our souls really are.
And yet, the moment doesn't have to be as dramatic as death and grief. It is also one that sneaks up in the humdrum of life. Perhaps you've caught yourself staring out the window for no particular reason. When you come to yourself, you wonder just how long you've been gazing at the Douglas Fir. It is then that you realize that the staring was initiated by a memory—something this out of place. Someone special is missing.
When those moments come for us, and they most certainly do, the gap is closed, the playing field is leveled, and we all rich and poor alike find ourselves in tremendous need. Deep down in our squirming souls, we're frustrated, anxious, and exhausted. Going from headline to headline, meeting to meeting, worry to worry leads to a low-level rage or sadness that’s just always with us. Then, when the light hits just right, those words of Jesus come through shining, sparkling, almost twinkling like a Christmas tree–"Come to me." Those words of the Holy Stranger are suddenly the words of your Closest Friend.
The call is not:
go to a church service;
listen to another song;
read another book;
attend another conference; or
talk to another person.
The Son of God says to each of us, "Come to me." While we'd rather dillydally around with theology, songs, and endless religious activity, the only thing Jesus insists on is coming straight to him. No pretense. No pretending. No posturing.
To come boldly before the throne of grace takes real faith, real courage, and real vulnerability. More than that, it takes resolve to cling to what Scripture says about how God feels about you and all that he's done to make things right between you and Him. Once you're there, in the Presence, he will not give you a job assignment, a lecture about how screwed up you are, or a snake. He will give your soul the rest it has needed all along.
Amen.
Prophets: Cowboys in the City
Prophets are the unwelcome cowboys of God who make their way into the city. They come into the world as a most peculiar bunch. The grit that naturally accompanies them seems almost other-worldly. They have dirt under their fingernails because they've got their hands in the earth like Yahweh. They snarl at a Thomas Kinkade painting because his paintings don't tell the truth. Prophets are storytelling folk artists - bending copper, wire, rebar, and sheet metal into roosters who crow at 4:00 AM – "WAKE. THE HELL. UP!"
They're disinterested in playing it safe and keeping everyone comfortable in their skin. Words of "woe", "destruction", "wrath", "repentance", and "judgment" are frequently on their lips. A prophet laments when everyone else is well into their cup at a party. A prophet is lonely in a crowd. A prophet stays awake when everyone else sleeps. Outwardly they appear unkempt, but that's because inwardly, their souls are purified and polished by the Spirit of God himself.
They're the truth-telling sort of men and women that make good, honest, church-going people quite nervous. Like the sledgehammer in the shed out back, they're not much to look at, are easily forgotten, and are heavy, dull tools of weight. Prophets disrupt the status quo precisely because it is the status quo. Their diets are meager, their clothing is entirely out of fashion, and their language is so holy that it sounds crass to soft ears, indifferent hearts, and hardened consciences.
They are disregarded as unsophisticated, untimely, podunks from backwater towns and the scoffers in elite cities make sport of their so-called "calling." The forerunner to Jesus ate insects and spoke truth to power and lost his head for it at strip party. When Jesus spoke of the prophets, he emphasized not their religion but their rejection.
They were sad men and women for every reason under the sun. Why? To have a call from God Almighty - why does that come with such a depressing tax? Because that is the nature of truth in a society that loves lying. It is sad precisely because there is always a counter-argument. But it's not just a counter-argument; the rejection always comes with scoffing, name-calling, and questions surrounding their own mental and emotional health. After all, who marries a prostitute? What kind of wild man stands at the intersections of culture that rage over defunding the police, Planned Parenthood, and the possibility of delaying an election and continues to shout those two words that make everyone blush – Jesus saves?
The prophets love Johnny Cash, not only because of his wit or creativity with country music… It's because he wears black. Cash and the Tennessee Two had something to say no matter if it were on the radio or playing for free food at the local honky-tonk. The prophets had a fire in their bones, truth on their minds, and vision for God's people to be who they already were. They drive the people of God to stop pandering to the world around them because they know that when compared to Jesus, the very best this world has to offer is a Jack in the Box drive-thru and one night stay at Motel 6.
In a world that loves vague sentimentalities, the prophets are despised because they are too loud, too clear, and too straight forward on loving your neighbor and pursuing justice in the name of God.
Politicians can't buy the prophets. These cowboys of God didn't choose their occupation for their ego to be stroked by paparazzi, fanboys, and invitations to the local reindeer games.
Prophets are content with being resented like a barking dog in the middle of the night.
Prophets are men and women who count the cost and are willing to say the truth come hell or high water, and they damn well know it's coming.
Ezekiel was lying on his side by the campfire in a fever-trance. Hosea was found at the auction block of Gomer. Jeremiah's sadness was seen in his bloodshot eyes.
Prophets don't get invited to parties, but when they do, they're the butt of every joke. Among the self-righteous religious crowd, the prophets aren't taken seriously; they're donkeys, and all the crowd hears is "HEE HAW" when they pray. These lightning bolts from heaven are the grace of God in a world set on fire by hell. We would do ourselves, the world around us, and most certainly, God himself a great service to listen to the cowboys and donkeys. More often than not, they're the ones through whom God is speaking.
Walter Brueggemann on Generosity
“On Generosity
On our own, we conclude:
there is not enough to go around
we are going to run short
of money
of love
of grades
of publications
of sex
of beer
of members
of years
of life
we should seize the day
seize our goods
seize our neighbours goods
because there is not enough to go around
and in the midst of our perceived deficit
you come
you come giving bread in the wilderness
you come giving children at the 11th hour
you come giving homes to exiles
you come giving futures to the shut down
you come giving easter joy to the dead
you come – fleshed in Jesus.
and we watch while
the blind receive their sight
the lame walk
the lepers are cleansed
the deaf hear
the dead are raised
the poor dance and sing
we watch
and we take food we did not grow and
life we did not invent and
future that is gift and gift and gift and
families and neighbours who sustain us
when we did not deserve it.
It dawns on us – late rather than soon-
that you “give food in due season
you open your hand
and satisfy the desire of every living thing.”
By your giving, break our cycles of imagined scarcity
override our presumed deficits
quiet our anxieties of lack
transform our perceptual field to see
the abundance………mercy upon mercy
blessing upon blessing.
Sink your generosity deep into our lives
that your muchness may expose our false lack
that endlessly receiving we may endlessly give
so that the world may be made Easter new,
without greedy lack, but only wonder,
without coercive need but only love,
without destructive greed but only praise
without aggression and invasiveness….
all things Easter new…..
all around us, toward us and
by us
all things Easter new.
Finish your creation, in wonder, love and praise. Amen.
”
Sheriff Tom Bell
“I had two dreams about him after he died. I dont remember the first one all that well but it was about meetin him in town somewheres and he give me some money and I think I lost it. But the second one it was like we was both back in older times and I was on horseback goin through the mountains of a night. Goin through this pass in the mountains. It was cold and there was snow on the ground and he rode past me and kept on goin. Never said nothin. He just rode on past and he had this blanket wrapped around him and he had his head down and when he rode past I seen he was carryin fire in a horn the way people used to do and I could see the horn from the light inside of it. About the color of the moon. And in the dream I knew that he was goin on ahead and that he was fixin to make a fire somewhere out there in all that dark and all that cold and I knew that whenever I got there he would be there. And then I woke up.”
Steward Your Strength
“As the world rocks and reels
All of us are on our tippy toes or on our heels.
Some are eager, peering over the fence pondering what’s to come
Others are knocked back in great sadness of what’s already been done.
To find yourself flat-footed in a wobbly world today is miraculous as Peter standing there on the water, dumbstruck by the Carpenter-Messiah.
If you walk out your door in confidence with broad shoulders and your chin as high as a flagpole, remember that you’re one of the few these days.
Express your gratitude to God because you know that the peace you feel is a grace from above. Be on the lookout for the downtrodden man who is at the end of his rope. You won’t have to look too far before you find him. When you see him, throw your strong arm around his shoulder, look him boldly in the eyes and remind him that he’s still the beloved of God.
Steward your strength. The world needs it now more than ever.”
So Much Wrong & So Much Right
“What do you do with the mad that you feel?”
There is so much wrong with the world. Every single direction we look, we see fear, rage, and injustice. What once felt so certain has suddenly evaporated right before our very eyes. What are we becoming? The disorientation isn’t just in the headlines; it is swirling around in each of our minds. In moments of genuine despair, if we pray, we pray very honestly. “Have you fallen asleep at the wheel of the universe?” “Do you even care about what is happening down here?” “If you’re there, please come through!”
At the same time, there is so much right with the world. Every single direction we look we see people laughing, the kitchen smells of something wonderful, and you just rediscovered an old favorite song. People are learning to get along in new ways, and if you’re paying attention, you will sometimes find a sudden grin on your face while sitting traffic. Where did that come from? It came from Grace. If you remember to pray at that moment, it is usually a short prayer; two words – “Thank You.”
“And what a good feeling to feel like this
And know that the feeling is really mine.”
A Morning (Neighbor) Prayer
While laying in bed, before your feet touch the ground...
Lift your hands, stretch them out toward the ceiling, and pray….
“ You have entrusted me with these hands. Help me to use them as I work today in whatever is before me for your glory and the blessing of my neighbor.”
Close your eyes and pray…
“You have given me eyes to see your creation and my neighbor. Help me to look away from all that is not of you and to look for the holy in each moment. ”
As you sit up and look down at your feet pray….
“ You have given me feet to carry me throughout the day. Let me not pass by my neighbor on the other side of the street but rather to walk toward those in need with compassion in my heart.”
As you look in the mirror seeing your ears, nose, and mouth, pray…
“You’ve given me ears to listen to music, to the birds, and to my neighbor. Help me be a listener today. You’ve given me a nose to smell with. Let me not pass by the flowers and fragrances of the day as though they’re common. You’ve given me a mouth both to taste and to speak. Let the words I speak today bring peace, healing, and comfort to my neighbor.”
Who You Are
“You are a new creation in Christ
You are hidden with Christ in God
You have a sound mind
You are not condemned
You are Abba’s child
”
And He Called His Name Jesus
“And he [Joseph] called his name Jesus.”
Who is this holy wild man who trusts in visions of angels and his beloved Mary’s news about the Christ whom she was to birth and they were to raise? Joseph is one of the most important figures in the entire New Testament and yet he is rarely mentioned. After the birth of Jesus, he more or less fades out of the picture. I wonder how he felt about that as the shadows of his own life lengthened?
There in the stable with buzzing flies and puffing beasts, I imagine Joseph held the Baby just like every other Daddy. The experience is filled with wonder, hope, and expectation. At the same time, a knee-buckling, gut-wrenching, time-stopping holiness must’ve filled the air, his heart, and dreams. “Jesus." He was to call him “Jesus.” Not "Moses”, not “Isaiah.” Not even “Joseph Jr.” That name… Jesus is a beautiful name. A cleansing name. A haunting name. A saving name.
It is also a name that is easy to forget. We forget about him but not because the Father didn’t glorify him or because he failed at his mission while here on the Earth. We tend to forget and take for granted those we love the most. “I’ll call my brother tomorrow.” Forgetting to make eye contact with your spouse. Squeezing five more minutes into work while your son waits to throw the ball. When we forget someone it isn’t always because we don’t love them. In fact, it is often because they have loved us so well, extended grace so often, and have always been happy just to be together.
After laying Jesus in the manger, I’m certain Joseph must’ve walked outside, looked up at the stars, let out a sigh, and whispered, “Jesus.” I wonder if in his last minutes if he whispered it again before crossing into Paradise? I imagine he did so with a grin on his face.