To Move Upward Toward The Future, You Must First Be Willing To Leave The Past

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Every Wednesday my church conducts an evening praise and worship service.  Last Wednesday, the week before Christmas, an extraordinary  celebration occurred.  Christmas and its celebration, as viewed by our congregation, is not so much oriented toward the commercial side of the holiday, but rather toward the spiritual, worship side of the birth of Christ.  

The worship service opened by the taking of an “Offering” for our Worldwide Missions Team.  The senior choir was featured at the service.  They performed three grand mixed-voice songs regarding the Deity, Righteousness and Graciousness of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  The entire congregation also sang along, together with the choir, in several other Christmas carols and hymns.  The Lord’s Supper was then celebrated, after which was given a dramatic reading concerning Jesus and the true beginning of his earthly ministry. The service concluded with the entire congregation singing the Christmas hymn, “O Holy Night.”  It was a marvelous time of worship and praise to our Lord and Creator.  Everyone was greatly blessed to have participated.  It truly was what I would call a “sweet-spirited” evening.  All the invited guests were seriously touched deep within their spirits.  God was truly honored, praised, and glorified.  What a great prelude it was to the coming Christmas Day celebration. 

As we are all aware, Christmas is the time of year that all Christians celebrate the birth of their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  It is the time of year that we all celebrate and rejoice together in recognizing the coming to earth of the long-awaited Messiah, The Son of God.  It is the second most important day celebrated by those men and women who call themselves Christian Believers.  The most important day for Christians is the day known as Easter wherein is celebrated the crucifixion, death, burial, and resurrection of The Lord Jesus Christ. 

Somewhere in between the birth and burial of the Lord Jesus, many other things happened, occurred, and came to be.  Jesus had to learn and “grow up,” and “grow into” His ministry all before it could begin touching other people’s lives.  Jesus had to be prepared for the incredible work that He was sent to the earth to do.  Lots of things had to happen before He could depart his earthly home and family and start doing all of the things and activities God had intended Him to do and perform.  Every life and everything that occurs in each life had to have a beginning,…a start,… a commencement point.  Such was the purpose of the reading given at the evening church service on December 18, 2013 at Crossover Church in Spokane, Washington.   

The reading was powerfully delivered and its critical message was given and received exactly as its author intended it to be.  It was a most beautiful message.  Please permit me to share this reading with you (in its entirety), so that you too might come to a better understanding of some of the events that most assuredly had to have happened in the growing up of the Lord Jesus Christ.  The reading is entitled “Out of the Carpentry Shop.”  Its author,  Pastor Max Lucado: 

  The heavy door creaked on its hinges as he pushed it open.  With a few strides he crossed the silent shop and opened the wooden shutters to a square shaft of sunshine that pierced the darkness, painting a box of daylight on the dirt floor. 

  He looked around the carpentry shop.  He stood a moment in the refuge of the little room that housed so many sweet memories.  He balanced the hammer in his hand.  He ran his fingers across the sharp teeth of the saw.  He stroked the smoothly worn wood of the sawhorse.  He had come to say good-bye. 

  It was time for him to leave.  He had heard something that made him know it was time to go. So he came one last time to smell the sawdust and the lumber. 

  Life was peaceful here.  Life was so…safe. 

  Here he had spent countless hours of contentment.  On this dirt floor he had played as a toddler while his father worked.  Here Joseph had taught him how to grip a hammer.  And on this workbench he had built his first chair. 

 I wonder what he thought as he took one last look around the room.  Perhaps he stood for a moment at the workbench looking at the tiny shadows cast by the chisel and shavings.  Perhaps he listened as voices from the past filled the air. 

“Good job, Jesus.” 

“Joseph, Jesus–come and eat!” 

“Don’t worry sir, we’ll get it finished on time.  I’ll get Jesus to help me.” 

  I wonder if he hesitated.  I wonder if his heart was torn.  I wonder if he rolled a nail between his thumb and fingers, anticipating the pain. 

  It was in the carpentry shop that he must have given birth to his thoughts.  Here concepts and convictions were woven together to form the fabric of his ministry. 

  You can almost see the tools of the trade in his words as he spoke.  You can see the trueness of a plumb line as he called for moral standards.  You can hear the whistle of the plane as he pleads for religion to shave away unnecessary traditions.  You can picture the snugness of a dovetail as he demands loyalty in relationships.  You can imagine him with a pencil and a ledger as he urges honesty. 

  It was here that his human hands shaped the wood that his divine hands had created.  And it was here that his body matured while his spirit waited for the right moment, the right day.

  And now that day had arrived. 

  It must have been difficult to leave.  After all, life as a carpenter wasn’t bad.  It wasn’t bad at all.  Business was good.  The future was bright and his work was enjoyable. 

  In Nazareth he was known only as Jesus, the son of Joseph.  You can be sure he was respected in the community.  He was good with his hands.  He had many friends.  He was a favorite among the children.  He could tell a good joke and had a habit of filling the air with contagious laughter. 

  I wonder if he wanted to stay.  “I could do a good job here in Nazareth.  Settle down.  Raise a family.  Be a civic leader.” 

  I wonder because I know he had already read the last chapter.  He knew that the feet that would step out of the safe shadow of the carpentry shop would not rest until they’d been pierced and placed on a Roman cross.  

  You see, he didn’t have to go.  He had a choice.  He could have stayed.  He could have kept his mouth shut.  He could have ignored the call or at least postponed it.  And had he chosen to stay, who would’ve known?  Who would have blamed him? 

  He could have come back as a man in another era when society wasn’t so volatile, when religion wasn’t so stale, when people would listen better. 

  He could have come back when crosses were out of style. 

  But his heart wouldn’t let him.  If there was hesitation on the part of his humanity, it was overcome by the compassion of his divinity.  His divinity heard the voices.  His divinity heard the hopeless cries of the poor, the bitter accusations of the abandoned, the dangling despair of those who are trying to save themselves. 

  And his divinity saw the faces.  Some wrinkled.  Some weeping.  Some hidden behind veils.  Some obscured by fear.  Some earnest with searching.  Some blank with boredom.  From the face of Adam to the face of the infant born somewhere in the world as you read these words, he saw them all. 

  And you can be sure of one thing.  Among the voices that found their way into the carpentry shop in Nazareth was your voice.  Your silent prayers uttered on tear-stained pillows were heard before they were said.  Your deepest questions about death and eternity were answered before they were asked.  And your direst need, your need for a Savior, was met before you ever sinned. 

  And not only did he hear you, he saw you.  He saw your face aglow the hour you first knew him.  He saw your face in shame the hour you first fell.  The same face that looked back at you from this morning’s mirror, looked at him.  And it was enough to kill him. 

  He left because of you. 

  He laid his security down with his hammer.  He hung tranquility on the peg with his nail apron.  He closed the window shutters on the sunshine of his youth and locked the door on the comfort and ease of anonymity. 

Since he could bear your sins more easily than he could bear the thought of your hopelessness, he chose to leave. 

IT WASN’T EASY.  LEAVING THE CARPENTRY SHOP NEVER HAS BEEN. 

Merry Christmas everybody. 

And Now….   

May The Lord bless you and keep you;
May The Lord make His face shine upon you,
  And be gracious to you;
May The Lord lift up His countenance upon you,
  And give you peace.
                                            Amen. 

Peace and Love to All of You…………..Poppa Bear 

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