Christmas comes at the opening of winter, yet once it has come and gone, the rest of the season often feels like ‘bleak midwinter.’   December is marked with festivity.  While January offers little but routine.   December is filled with expectation, January with simple endurance.  The dry, tired Christmas tree has taken its place by the burn pit, or perhaps recycled as a fish habitat.   Decorations have been packed; the train of totes carried to the storage shed.   And all the lights, personal and public, are either taken down or turned off.   

Everything moves from color and light to the grey darkness of January.  The unconquerable Sun does not seem so unconquered. All the focused expectation has now been eaten, drunk, sung, and opened.  All that was bright, shiny, and magical is now waiting at the curb to be recycled.  The tokens of expectation have been put away.  Now it is back to the grind.

Yet such a view toward the end of the year and the end of Christmas shows a weakness both in our theology and our Christian walk. Our Reformed forefathers expressed concern that commemorating the Incarnation as a season, and not as a daily, present reality, would lead to the exchange of a transformational faith for a transactional religion.  

But if, as we claim, Christmas is an evangelical feast day and not a Holy Day, then it has tremendous implication for our lives into the new year. This should be a time of greatest adventure and awakening as we are reminded of who we are in Christ.  The great truths of the Incarnations are not to be packed away with the décor but should refresh the trajectory of our Christian walk.  Paul reminds us in Colossians.

“Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.”

Colossians 2:6-7

We see this unfolding in the story of Matthew 2 as both the magi and Jesus’ family leave Bethlehem.   The magi’s adventure was not finished, but just beginning.  No doubt, they left with questions. They have new enemies, new priorities. And they have new allegiances.  They left to return by a different way.  And as the magi depart for the adventure of following Christ, the spotlight falls back on Joseph. 

We don’t know much about Joseph, but we see something important in the story of the flight to Egypt.  Joseph’s love for Mary and Jesus is a commitment beyond one decision.  We see him walk in all the consequences of his decision to take Mary as his wife and Jesus as his adoptive son.   He is sensitive to the Lord’s leading.  Careful to submit his priorities to the Lord’s purpose.  And vigilant to love and protect both Jesus and Mary.   

Like the magi, Joseph’s adventure of faith is not complete in the story of Jesus birth.  It is just the beginning.  And his story has much to teach us about what it looks like for us to live out the implications of the Incarnation, day by day.  What about you? Is your Christian life more than a decision to follow Christ?  Has the incarnation changed everything about every other day of your life?   Join us as we examine Matthew 2:13-23 and consider life after Christmas.

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

Christmastime is a season marked by enduring traditions.  Lights, trees, parties, and candlelight services all converge.  But no tradition dominates our Christmas celebrations like gift giving.  Thirty percent of all retail sales in the United States occur between Black Friday and Christmas.  This amounts to nearly a trillion dollars in sales.  A little over $1,000 for every man, woman, and child.  For many of our friends and neighbors this means going to great lengths financially.  Even incurring substantial debt. The pressure to find the right gift can be enormous. 

For some on your list, a box of chocolate-covered cherries or a bag of holiday blend coffee nicely fits the bill.  But for friends and family, gifts must reveal an intimate perception of the receiver’s preferences and desires.   The preciousness of a gift reflects the preciousness of the relationship it celebrates.   The home-made gifts of children are precious to their parents. These gifts reflect their love, creativity, and generosity — gifts invested with who they are.  And intimately connected to the receiver. 

But men struggle to learn what children instinctively know.   While men love to receive a gift card for anything, woe to the insensitive husband who gives one to his wife.   The scripture commands men to “dwell with our wives according to knowledge.” (1 Peter 3:7)   That means, you need to get her something that reflects her preferences and desires.  She expects you to know her well enough to be decisive about her gift.  And so, we go to great lengths to find and give the right gift to our beloved.  Gifts that will last.  Or have a lasting impact.

How precious are the gifts we give?  Are we discharging seasonal responsibility?  Or celebrating the preciousness of others?  The whole tradition of giving gifts at Christmas is commemorative.  It commemorates the gift we were given the Incarnation.  The eternal, divine Son of God taking upon himself a human nature to give to us the gift of faith and life. 

And this tradition is established at the outset in the gifts of the magi.   Extravagant gifts given to a poor child whose worth could only be seen through the eyes of faith.   Gifts that were a grateful response to the Lord of Glory and King of Grace.  But the gold, frankincense, and myrrh were not the real gifts of the magi.  

Their singular purpose in coming to Bethlehem was worship. Three times Matthew underscores their intention to worship the one “born King of the Jews.”  Not the courteous homage of an ambassador or diplomat, but deep. profound, falling-on-your-face worship.  Worship flowing from gratitude for God’s grace through Christ.   The gifts housed in their treasure box were just tokens.  Gifts for a prophet, priest, and king.  Gifts that spoke of sacrifice and sovereignty.  And as extravagant as their gifts may seem, the most lavish gift was given to the magi, not by them.

We think we know the story.  We think we understand the gifts.  But the fulness of what God has done for us in the gospel is incomprehensible.   Apostle Paul calls it “the mystery of godliness, Christ Jesus manifest in the flesh.”   Join us as we examine Matthew 2:9-12 and consider the ‘indescribable gift’ given that first Christmas.   A gift that will last unto eternal life.

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

My father taught me many important things.  How to plan, how to speak in public, how to teach and write.  But by his example he taught me to serve.   Sunday mornings, we would fire up the church van and leave the house early.  Before coffee was hot or mama’s blueberry muffins were out of the oven, we left the comfort of the suburbs for the inner city.  

Our church was a merger of a once vibrant downtown church and a fledgling suburban mission.   Over time the grand old church withered while the mission flourished.   Eventually the church left the city for the burbs.  Left behind were a handful of lovely, aged ladies with amazing lives and even more amazing stories.  But with no way to get to their now relocated church.   And so, my dad and his faithful assistant would make the dangerous journey into sketchy areas of downtown Atlanta in the early hours of Sunday morning to collect our esteemed passengers.  

I was the footman, porter, and junior navigator.  I assisted the ladies and their many parcels safely into the van.   As a child I had no way to fathom the danger that lurked in every place where they lived.   Only as an adult, could I comprehend what fear must have been a routine part of these ladies’ lives.   Such is the joy of childish naivete, blissfully unaware that much of life is a dangerous journey.   But what was oblivion to me was vigilance to my father.   He knew well the dangers of the city.  He worked there.  He traveled there.  Yet some dangerous journeys are worth the trip.

The journey of the magi was such a trip.   Christmas cards beautifully illustrate three kingly men, astride camels.  In the quiet of the night, they approach a stable where Joseph and Mary adore the baby Jesus in the manger.   And he gilded script proclaims, “Wise men still seek him.”   Yet the serenity of our art misconstrues what Matthew 2 conveys.    The journey of the magi was a dangerous one.

They were academics not adventurers.   They were pagan courtiers serving pagan kings.  Yet, we read of no officialdom in their visit.  This trip is a not diplomatic, but personal.   They had no credentials, no diplomatic immunity.  Possibly they risked the suspicion of their own king and country to undertake this journey.   And the route itself is not easy one.   The five-hundred-mile trek was fraught with the peril of highwaymen.   Even the logistics of such a trip are no small matter.   Yet the greatest danger lay near journeys end.  

Arriving in Jerusalem, they ask, “where is he who is born King of the Jews?”   It is noteworthy that they did not go straight to the palace.   Being ‘in the know’ politically, they knew what Herod was.  A brilliant, but paranoid sociopathic tyrant, Herod murdered most of his own family out of jealousy.  He thought little of killing anyone who appeared as a rival.    In a famous wordplay, Caesar Augustus once quipped, “it is safer to be Herod’s pig than his son.”   To go around Jerusalem asking about the birth of the new King was deadly dangerous.  And everyone in town knew it.

What drove them to take this trip?  What called them out of the comfort of their life as courtiers to undertake a dangerous journey to find and follow the Christ?   Matthew’s account of the magi is a startling study in contrasts.   The magi are diligent in their search.  Attentive and obedient to God’s Word and Spirit.  They rejoice with an exceeding joy when they find Christ.  And despite obstacles and expectations, they fall on their faces to worship the Christ-child.   By contrast, Herod’s response is one of satanic rebellion.  The people of Jerusalem are paralyzed with fear.  And the scribes and priests exhibit stunning apathy.

Faith will take you places you would never go otherwise.   The path of following Christ is the safest, most dangerous journey you will ever undertake.   As Dietrich Bonhoeffer famously wrote, “when Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”   The remarkable truth of the magi is that before they sought Christ, He sought them.   For indeed he came to “seek and to save that which is lost.”  

Faith led them to seek, to follow, to worship the one who is born King of the Jews, and who is their King as well.  These men are a foretaste of the nations who will come to Christ.   What about you?   Will you take the safest, most dangerous journey to seek, follow, and worship the one who was born King of the Jews, but who now reigns as King of Kings and Lord of Lords.   Join us as we examine Matthew 2 and consider the dangerous journey of following Jesus.

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

“I’ll be back!”  Most of us think of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s character in the 1984 apocalyptic classic, The Terminator.   But the phrase did not original with Schwarzenegger.   In 1942 General Douglas MacArthur vowed, “I will return!”  Forced by the Japanese to leave the Philippines, MacArthur’s retreat left islands in the hands of a brutal occupation and condemned 90,000 allied soldiers to what would later be called the Bataan Death March. 

MacArthur loved the Philippines.  The islands were his adopted home.  His father had been military governor there during the early years of the 20^th Century.  And Douglas, himself, had served the islands with distinction as a military officer and adviser from the early 1920s until his retirement in 1937.  The day after Pearl Harbor, Japan launched an invasion of the Philippines.  After struggling to defend his adopted home, MacArthur was forced in March 1942 to abandon the island fortress of Corregidor under orders from President Franklin Roosevelt.

After his evacuation, he learned there were no plans to reoccupy the Philippines or rescue the forces trapped there. Deeply perplexed, he issued a statement to the press in which he promised his men and the people of the Philippines, “I shall return.”  This promise became his mantra during the next two and a half years, and he repeated it often in public appearances.

And true to his word, on October 1944, after advancing island by island across the Pacific Ocean, General Douglas MacArthur waded ashore onto the Philippine island of Leyte, fulfilling his promise.  Like many men of my father’s generation, my father admired MacArthur’s grit and determination.   Against insurmountable odds, he kept his promise.   He fought not only against the Japanese, but often against his own military strategists and war-time politicians.  But he let nothing deter him from keeping his promise to deliver his people and his men.   When a man keeps his promise it makes a deep impression.

But it is not always easy to keep our promises.  Despite our best intentions our own limitations, unavoidable circumstances, and limited knowledge often make us promise breakers rather than promise keepers.   Solomon expresses it well in Proverbs 20:6. “Many a man proclaims his own steadfast love, but a faithful man who can find?”  

The opening genealogy in Matthew’s gospel exposes this conundrum.   God has promised good to his people.  The genealogy begins with Abraham.  God promised that all nations would be blessed through him.   Yet, the unfolding generations of his family added exclamation points to the inability of mere men to bring these promises to pass.  Neither patriarchs, kings, nor unsung heroes are able to escape the gravity of their own sinful frailty to bring about God’s promises for “peace and good will to men on earth.”

Yet God is not thwarted.  He is never contingent.  He continues through every generation to do exactly what he promised in his time, in his way, and through the one he promised from before The Fall.   God promised to return.  To be “God with Us.”  And he kept all his promises.   As Paul would note.

For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, whom we proclaimed among you… was not Yes and No, but in him it is always Yes. For all the promises of God find their Yes in him. That is why it is through him that we utter our Amen to God for his glory. 

2 Corinthians 1:19-20

Matthew’s gospel is a story of promises kept.   Time and time again every window into the earthly life and ministry of our Savior is framed with “as it is written.”   The story of Joseph’s perplexity and obedience in Matthew 1:18-25 has many contours, but all these are part of the greater picture of the faithfulness of God who keeps his promise to save us and abide with us in the person of the Lord Jesus Christ. 

Not one of God’s good promises every fails.  Not one of his words falls to the ground.  His love for you is steadfast and pushes through every obstacle, adversity, and circumstance to come to you in grace.   Do you feel abandoned or disappointed by God?   Does it seem that God’s promises to deliver and dwell with you have failed?  That the good news is for others, but not for you?  Join us as we examine Matthew’s account of Jesus’ birth from Matthew 1:18-25 and consider promises kept.

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship. Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

As a boy, our attic was a place of mystery and wonder.  Its clutter was a treasure trove of self-discovery. Things, my parents and grandparents knew, but forgot.  Things my parents and grandparents experienced but wanted to forget.  But to me it was a place to discover people whose names I knew but whose lives I did not.  It was a place to understand how I came to be who I was. 

Family histories are precious.  Even if notorious or even scandalous.  The names on our family tree are not mere chronological markers.  They represent real lives.  And they had real impact on our lives through their character, their genetics, their successes and their failures.  And what is true of our particular genealogies is also true of biblical genealogies.

At first glance those genealogies, like my childhood attic, seem cluttered and unfamiliar.  But God has placed them in the Scriptures for our instruction.  To understand more who we are, and more importantly, who God is.   Like my attic, those genealogies are treasure troves of self-discovery.  The difficulty with them is not how to find something meaningful, but how to distill all we find to its impact on us.

At the head of the story of the Incarnation, God gave us a genealogy.  This ancestry framed the humiliation and exaltation of our redeemer with the picture of a dysfunctional family.  But Jesus’ family tree is ours as well.  It is a family into which we have been adopted.  A family that shows us God’s faithfulness and grace to those who will not and cannot get it together.

At every point in Matthew’s gospel the question is asked of Jesus, “who is He?”  Who is this? Even the wind and waves of obey Him?  Who is this who even forgives sins?  Who is this of whom the crowds cry “Hosanna?”   At every turn we find someone asking this question.  But it is the question the Holy Spirit anticipates and answers at every turn.   And like every significant milestone in the story redemption, this gospel is introduced by a ‘toledoth,’  a geneaology.

Jesus is the Christ.  The Son of David.  The Son of Abraham.  He is the Son of Man and yet, the Son of God.   The story of Jesus’ beginnings, tells us who he is.  And who he is not.  By giving Jesus’ toledoth, the Holy Spirit unveils what Paul called a “great mystery, Jesus Christ manifest in the flesh.” 

Jesus’ toledoth does not reveal a new way of salvation.  But declares that God has kept his promise.  He has fulfilled the covenant of grace he made with generations of men and women in the Old Testament.  Matthew’s genealogy is not the story of a man’s life, but of God’s saving work to give new and eternal life to men who receive him. 

Who is this Jesus?  The story of Jesus’ beginnings concludes with instructions about his name.  “He will be called Jesus, because He will save His people from their sin.”  Do you know who Jesus is?  More importantly do you know Jesus, himself?   Join us as we examine Matthew 1:1-17 and consider the question so many asked about Jesus – “Who is this?”

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

Parent’s words are indelibly stamped on their children’s lives.  Whether encouraging or devastating, weighty or inconsequential, they lodge deep in our consciousness and give shape to who we are.   Which is why the prayer of the Psalmist is critical. “Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips.”  As is Jesus’ warning, “on the day of judgement, people will give account for every careless word.”

What words of ours will lodge in the consciousness of our children and give shape to their lives, their thought, their faith?   It is a weighty question.  I pray it will be words of depth and value, of weight and significance.   But I fear it will be proverbs of complaint.  “That is a bad design.” Or “that is the wrong tool.”

Children are apt to use whatever is at hand, not inquire or inconvenience themselves to find the right tool.   Tablespoon measures are not serving spoons, nor paring knives for spreading mayonnaise.   Mere convenience is no reason to use the wrong tool when the right one is at hand.   Though, perhaps, my view is more elastic when I am in a hurry.   And so, my children often hear, “use the right tool!”

While perhaps not so important when spreading mayonnaise, the right tool is critical when fighting spiritual battles.   And all of the crises we face are, in fact, spiritual battles.   Failing to recognize this leads us to seek purely logistical, relational, or circumstantial solutions.   And neglect the means of grace God gives us. 

God’s presence, purpose, and promises are central to every struggle, every adversity, every decision we face.   Yet he is often the last, not first resort.  We are apt to use the wrong tool.  To reach for worldly weapons to fight spiritual battles. The Bible reminds us repeatedly to be well armed with the right weapons.

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm.

Ephesians 6:10-14

And again,

For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.

2 Corinthians 10:3-5

After the exodus, Israel moves toward Sinai.   Getting to Sinai, not leaving Egypt, is the primary goal of the exodus.   At Sinai God will renew His gracious covenant.  He will declare that he is Israel’s God and they are his people.   Yet the two-month journey from the Red Sea to Sinai is fraught with every spiritual peril.  

The prospect of hunger and thirst led the people to doubt, grumble, and rebel against the Lord.   With the pillar of cloud and fire at hand they ask, “Is the Lord among us nor not?”  Pharaoh is no longer a threat, but Satan still actively opposes the people inside and out, whispering, “did God really say?” 

And as if hunger and thirst were not enough, the Amalekites launch an unprovoked attack.  Moses would later recall. 

Remember what Amalek did to you on the way as you came out of Egypt, how he attacked you on the way when you were faint and weary, and cut off your tail, those who were lagging behind you, and he did not fear God. 

Deuteronomy 25:17-18

Satan attacks God’s people inside and out to dishearten and destroy their faith.  Pharaoh tried to prevent Israel from leaving. Now Amalek works to prevent them from entering the Promised Land.  But Satan is behind it all.  Moses tells Joshua to mobilize for war.  But the real weapon in Israel’s arsenal is prayer.  Spiritual warfare demands spiritual weapons.  

How well armed are you for the spiritual conflict behind every crisis?  What weapons do you reach for?   Are the means of grace your weapons of first resort? Or last?  Moses holds up God’s staff while Joshua fights with Amalek.  But this is more than military history.  It reminds us we are well armed for spiritual warfare.  And we have a faithful high priest in Jesus, through whom we “with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” Join us as we examine Exodus 17:8-16 and see how God arms us well for spiritual warfare through prayer.

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

Language is never static.  It always has a backstory.  Languages are living things, constantly changing to reflect a culture.   Like rings on a tree, linguistic change charts cultural change.  Words indexed to outdated ideas or behaviors become, ‘archaic.’  And new words are created to reflect cultural realities our forefathers could not have imagined.   This process can occur very quickly, especially as technological change accelerates the use of jargon.   

The English language often grows most prolifically by the addition of new verbs formed out of old or proper nouns.   For example, we ‘google’ and we ‘message.’   But it also grows through the conflation of adjectives to express multiple attributes in a single word for the sake of emphasis.   We see this in new super-adjectives such as “ginormous” and “hangry.”

“Hangry” is a conflation of hungry and angry to make a new word which means to be “bad-tempered or irritable as a result of hunger.”   Being hangry is not usually the result of real or sustained hunger, rather the American version of hunger – I don’t have what I want, when I want it.   Being “hangry” is an expression of simple whiny discontent.   While the word “hangry” has been around for over a century, it has only come into popular usage in the last few years as our culture has become increasingly discontent.

Recent studies have attempted to understand the relationship between being hungry and being ill-tempered.  In an article for Health.com, Deena Adimoolam, assistant professor in the Division of Endocrinology, Diabetes, and Bone Disease at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, observed.

“When we do not eat, blood sugar goes low. When your blood sugar falls, the hormones cortisol and epinephrine are released in an attempt to raise it back to normal. But those hormones also happen to lead to irritability.”

Scientists posit other possible connections between hunger and anger as well.  Yet the real problem is not one of cortisol and epinephrine, but discontent and lack of self-control.   Or worse, a lack of faith.

As Israel trekked toward Mt. Sinai, they were not really hungry.   But they were “hangry.” God delivered them through the midst of the Red Sea.  He slaked their thirst in the middle of a desert with a log and a bitter pool.   He directed their every step with a pillar of cloud and fire from one grace to another.  

Yet as days, stretched into weeks and weeks into a month the land became more inhospitable.   No forage appeared.   They began to worry and grumble.   They had flocks and herds, plenty of livestock, and perhaps even some remnants of their unleavened dough, but their anxiety got the better of them.

They became hangry.   And they took it out on Moses and Aaron, even though the pillar of God’s own presence stood right in front of them.  The Song of the Sea had faded from their lips and ears.   The miracle at Marah was quickly forgotten.   The Red Sea was out of sight and out of mind.   Though free, they continued to think like slaves.  Grumbling, always grumbling.   Longing for slavery with security rather than freedom with faith.

The Christian life ever suffers from the temptation to walk by sight, not by faith.   And this makes us spiritually hangry – bad-tempered and irritable because things have not happened as we expected.  Malcontentment is warned against throughout the scripture.  While contentment is encouraged.  Not because it is a meritorious virtue, but because it is a measure of our faith.   It is a thermometer, not a thermostat of our faith.   It flows out of a living faith and trust in God’s promises.   Phillip Ryken puts it bluntly.

Our complaints really are never caused by our outward circumstances.  Instead, they reveal the inward condition of our hearts.  [The Israelites] complaining went far beyond griping about their menu.  They were rebelling against God’s plan for their salvation.

Are you a complainer?  Is whining your first response to every crisis of belief?   Are you discontent with what God has brought to pass.  Are you rebelling against His way of saving and sanctifying you?   The people of Israel were not hungry.   They had not exhausted their provisions.   And more than that, God had promised to care for them even though their prospects looked bleak.   They were not hungry, but they were hangry.   And their “hanger” threatened to cause them to turn back from the promises and care of their God and Savior.  

Are you spiritually hangry?  Bad-tempered and irritable because God has not made you what you want to be?  Not given you what you desire?   Or led you into a bleak, monotonous, or unpromising situation?   Join us as we examine Exodus 16 and consider the dangers of complaining and the gracious means God gives to deliver us.

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

Music makes life memorable.   A soundtrack forges an emotional connection with a movie.  Jingles implant ad slogans in our consciousness that persist decades after product obsolescence.  The playlist of youth is one of the strongest influences on our worldview.  The music of our generation teaches us how to live.   The oft posited statement of a young person that “I don’t listen to the lyrics” is self-deception at best.   Music has power to plant truth, perspective, and emotion deep into our being.

Advertisers know this.  Poets know this as well.  And educators are learning this.   Words set to a song are more easily remembered, than those repeated or memorized.  Even a cursory Amazon search reveals that music is used to teach everything from history to catechism.  All those dates and names and attributes of God, so hard to memorize, are more easily remembered when set to music.

This is why music is such an important part of our culture and our Christian faith.   The Bible instructs us to worship, fellowship, and disciple using hymns, psalms, and spiritual songs.   Congregations are often catechized more from the music they hear and sing, than sermons or Bible studies.   Music is important.  It is a great gift from God given for congregational praise, prayer, and proclamation. And it must be carefully curated by the elders of the church. 

Our hymns, psalms, and spiritual songs must be biblically accurate and theologically clear.   They must express truths about God not the feelings of men.   Our music must echo God’s own Word.  And be faithful to express and teach its history, truths, and promises.  Music has always been an important way to communicate the glorious redemptive story unfolded in the Bible.

Even in the narrative of the Bible itself, God’s people are given songs to recite and remember God’s nature, his promises, and his saving works.   Songs given to remind the present generation.  And instruct the next.   One of the oldest of these songs is found in Exodus 15.   Moses narrated the story in prose, but then records one of God’s greatest hits, ‘The Song of the Sea,’ sometimes called the Song of Moses.   A favorite song of God’s people, sung year after year in their homes, at feasts, and in worship services.   A song that communicates who God is, what he has done, what he does, and what he will do.   A song that gives assurance and confidence for the spiritual battles Christians face.

The Song of Moses is so significant to the church that even the Redeemed in eternity will sing it along with the Song of the Lamb.  This is recounted in Revelation 15:1-4.

And I saw what appeared to be a sea of glass mingled with fire—and also those who had conquered the beast and its image and the number of its name, standing beside the sea of glass with harps of God in their hands. And they sing the song of Moses, the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb, saying,

“Great and amazing are your deeds,
    O Lord God the Almighty!
Just and true are your ways,
    O King of the nations!
Who will not fear, O Lord,
    and glorify your name?
For you alone are holy.
    All nations will come
    and worship you,
for your righteous acts have been revealed.”

Revelation 15:1-4

The Bible is full of music. Hymns that equip us to live victoriously. Psalms to express every fear, concern, and emotion to the Lord. And spiritual songs that move us from fear to faith in any crisis. What songs tell your story?

What is the music of your heart and soul?  Is it Songs of Zion? The Song of Moses and of the Lamb?   These are God’s greatest hits.  Songs to be sung around the throne for all eternity.  Are they the soundtrack of your life? Join us as we examine the Song of the Sea in Exodus 15 and consider what it teaches about who God is, what he has done, what he does, and what he will do.

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube. 

The cool, crisp air.  The crunching of fallen leaves. And the low amber lighting of late afternoon means Fall is in full swing.  Hands down, Autumn is my favorite season.  So many fond memories cluster around Fall, its traditions, and its holidays.   It takes me to many happy places in my past.  My mother preparing seasonal feasts.  My wedding day.   Raking mountains of hickory and white oak leaves with my Dad.  And drives through Arkansas’ highways and byways in awe of God’s artistry.   But Fall also reminds me of football.

No, not the hours spent with my Dad listening to Larry Munson call Georgia Bulldog games or any organized league play.   But the informal neighborhood league that existed in suburban Stone Mountain where I grew up.   Colony East and Indian Forrest and my own enclave, Inca Court, put together small 3 to 4 man elite squads which battled it out on a field behind the Stripling’s house for regional bragging rights.  Don, Alan, and I and sometimes Norman, were the pride of Inca Court.  

We practiced every day after school until the light faded or our moms called us for supper.   We cut down small trees to fashion our own goal post.  We were the only neighborhood venue that offered the opportunity to kick ‘real’ extra points.  Though, admittedly, retrieving the balls from the surrounding woods was sometimes a challenge.   It was sandlot ball at its finest.  And we took it seriously. 

Of course, there were no referees and few rules. Controversial plays were resolved by “do-over.”  And every running play inevitably resulted in ‘piling on.’   Even if the ball carrier was clearly down.  The play was not over until every man on the field was added to the pile.   Learning to survive being piled-on was a non-negotiable skill.

In organized play, piling on is a serious offense.  It is a personal foul and carries lengthy penalties.  It is considered excessive force, gratuitous violence.  A vindictive adding of insult to injury.   But for us, piling on was the glorious privilege of every man on the field.  We relished its place in our gridiron heroics.

‘Piling on’ in our idiom has negative connotations.   It denotes addition to a load that is already unbearable, especially harsh or excessive criticism.  It is akin to “kicking them when they are down.”   It speaks of what is gratuitous or excessive beyond what is sufficient.   But ‘piling on’ need not always be a bad thing. 

God delights to pile on.   Not excessive demands or requirements, but grace upon grace, blessing upon blessing, provision upon provision.  We see this both implicitly and explicitly in the Scriptures.  Jesus taught, “give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap.” (Luke 6:38) And John, the beloved disciple, said of Jesus, “For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” (John 1:16)

In Exodus 14, we see his grace upon grace, God’s piling on blessing upon blessing through the deliverance of Israel through the Red Sea.   He protects and delivers his people.  He destroys their enemies.  He comforts and assures them with his presence.  He watches over them.  He grants them faith.   The only things piled higher than the waters of the Red Sea are the blessings of God’s grace upon grace to an unworthy but elect people.  But even this is not all.  With the pillar of cloud and fire, there is another tremendous gift.  The Angel of the Presence.  The one who is very God of very God, yet would one day take on flesh to deliver us from a greater enemy than any ancient king.

God is no miser of grace.  When he sets his love upon you, he lavishes you with grace upon grace.   He holds nothing back.  “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?”  His love is higher, wider, deeper and more expansive than you can possibly imagine.  Join us as we examine Exodus 14:15-31 and consider this grace upon grace.

We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship.  Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube.