Christmas reflections 2008
I often wonder what it is about genealogy that fascinates people. All the hours of research yield a just an arrangement of names and relationships on the family tree. Most of them we have never met. Sometimes we’re fortunate to have stories to go with the names. I have substantial amounts of information about several of my ancestors but I’ve never heard anything about those who had a less desirable reputation.
Two of the gospel writers, Matthew and Luke thought genealogy was a big deal too. Matthew was writing to the Jews and traced Jesus’ genealogy back 42 generations to show that Jesus was a descendant of Abraham, the father of the Jews, and a descendant of David, which fulfilled Old Testament prophecies about the Messiah’s family lineage. Luke was writing to the Gentiles so he traced Jesus’genealogy back to Adam, to emphasize Jesus as Saviour of all people.
In Jesus’ lineage we find Judah who sold his brother into slavery, Jacob who cheated his way into first place, and David who committed adultery and murder. In the patriarchal culture of the day, the genealogical record was of fathers and sons, but Matthew’s account also lists 5 women, all of whom had some sort of scandal associated with them. Matthew’s account also lists a great many names of people that we know nothing about.
What can be said about this is that God’s plan was not thwarted one iota by all the flaws and failures down through that lineage. And even all those obscure and undistinguished others played a role.
The writings of my great-great grandfather Loren Webb reveals his passion for carrying forth the Good News that Jesus brought to us through his life and death. Sometimes I feel as if I’m picking up where he left off in my work behind the scenes at The City Mission. What makes genealogy fascinating for me is that sense of belonging to this family line and honoring my heritage through how I live my life.
From the first century til now, Jesus’ followers have been passing on the Good News of his redeeming love. That ancient message rings with hope and healing for the difficulties we face in this age.
Can you hear it?
Blessings to you and yours this Christmas and in the New Year!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Crossroads
In recognition of my brother Bob's birthday this week I want to share a story he told me while I 
was visiting with him in Maine. The story came to his mind while we were at the Owl's Head light house, a beautiful spot along midcoast Maine, guiding sea-faring vessels into the Rockland harbor.
The lower photo is Owl's Head point as it would be viewed approaching it from Rockland harbor. The top of the light house
is just barely visible just above the
trees in the center of the photo.
This particular spot is the first sighting that my brother had of Maine, from aboard the US Coast Guard Cutter, Laurel. He recalled with vivid detail the crossroads in his life that led to this place. He had just returned home from DuPage Horticulture School in West Chicago. He recalls walking into the living room where my mother was sitting on the couch next to her brother Jim who had had a career in the military. The draft was going to be enforced as a call to arms for the Vietnam war. Uncle Jim advised him to sign up for the Coast Guard which he promptly did.
......
He first went aboard the Laurel in Baltimore which was on its way back to Rockland, Maine, its home port. It was in early morning light of a spring day in1968 that he first caught sight of the rugged beauty of Maine's coast. He figured it to be a great place to be stationed but when the Laurel docked next to a fish factory he had some initial doubts.
Every year Bob attends the annual EMS conference held at the Samoset Resort overlooking Rockland Harbor with a view out to Owl's Head. And every year he reflects on all that has transpired in all the years since he first set sight on this place. "....sitting looking out at Owl’s Head I think of Tom Gopp and where his service time took him [Vietnam]* compared to the many many blessings I have experienced in Maine. I remain in awe of God’s plans and feel unworthy of the life we have had...."
Watch for more stories and photos of my brother's adventures on the Laurel, from hoisting 14 ton buoys out of the ocean, to search and rescue, to oceanographic studies in the Caribbean.
* Check out my post on April 6, 2008 for hometown remembrances of Tom Gopp and other of my brother's peers who came back from Vietnam in a coffin.
was visiting with him in Maine. The story came to his mind while we were at the Owl's Head light house, a beautiful spot along midcoast Maine, guiding sea-faring vessels into the Rockland harbor.The lower photo is Owl's Head point as it would be viewed approaching it from Rockland harbor. The top of the light house
is just barely visible just above the
trees in the center of the photo.
This particular spot is the first sighting that my brother had of Maine, from aboard the US Coast Guard Cutter, Laurel. He recalled with vivid detail the crossroads in his life that led to this place. He had just returned home from DuPage Horticulture School in West Chicago. He recalls walking into the living room where my mother was sitting on the couch next to her brother Jim who had had a career in the military. The draft was going to be enforced as a call to arms for the Vietnam war. Uncle Jim advised him to sign up for the Coast Guard which he promptly did.
......
He first went aboard the Laurel in Baltimore which was on its way back to Rockland, Maine, its home port. It was in early morning light of a spring day in1968 that he first caught sight of the rugged beauty of Maine's coast. He figured it to be a great place to be stationed but when the Laurel docked next to a fish factory he had some initial doubts.Every year Bob attends the annual EMS conference held at the Samoset Resort overlooking Rockland Harbor with a view out to Owl's Head. And every year he reflects on all that has transpired in all the years since he first set sight on this place. "....sitting looking out at Owl’s Head I think of Tom Gopp and where his service time took him [Vietnam]* compared to the many many blessings I have experienced in Maine. I remain in awe of God’s plans and feel unworthy of the life we have had...."
Watch for more stories and photos of my brother's adventures on the Laurel, from hoisting 14 ton buoys out of the ocean, to search and rescue, to oceanographic studies in the Caribbean.
* Check out my post on April 6, 2008 for hometown remembrances of Tom Gopp and other of my brother's peers who came back from Vietnam in a coffin.
Friday, December 19, 2008
To the Mystery
In lieu of Christmas letters I have gotten in the habit of writing reflections on the incredible and wondrous truth that God became a baby at Christmas. I don't think I 'll ever run out of thoughts to share about this centerpoint in history. I am, however, about to run out of time to get this year's reflections written. Just in case I don't get to it, I'm sharing one written a few years ago. It's timeless nature still makes it very relevant for today.
Christmas Greetings 2004
We sang a little song as children, perhaps in rote, but never-the-less it’s the mystery that surpasses all others. "Jesus loves me, this I know..." When the challenges of being "grownup" begin to overtake me, this little song takes me back to the simple truth that He wants me to come to Him as a little child. He says this not because little children are innocent but because they are incompetent in adult matters.
They don’t worry and scheme about how to make a buck to put food on the table, they just trust that they will be cared for.
And, children can live in dual worlds of both the real and unreal or mysterious. On a little hike in the woods with my great niece, we stopped at the footbridge to have a chat with the troll residing underneath. She directed this little drama, assigning me the role of troll. And so we carried on this conversation, the troll and her, that was both real and unreal at the same time.
There is so much of life that could rob me of such a wide-eyed wonder and mystery, so much that could make me question whether Jesus or God loves anybody, from the misguided who rage that somehow we must "get it right" to be in His family, to the awful death tolls of disease and war…
But there is a profound mystery even in struggle and suffering and death. Jesus likened His own life to the seed that must "die" as it falls into the dark earth, because only then can it bring forth life. This is the inescapable mystery of all time, that Jesus had to die to give us life, and greater still the mystery that His love for me and you is what empowered Him to lay down his life.
On this side of eternity I’ll never "get it right," except to believe the unbelievable... My only hope is in this mystery, that in His death and in his rising again, he cancels the power of sin and death and leads me to an infinite, glorious home, where pain and sorrow will be erased from our memory.
To the Mystery
A song by Michael Card
When the Father longed to show
A love He wanted us to know
He sent His only Son and so
Became a holy embryo
No fiction as fantastic and wild
A mother made by her own child
The helpless babe who cried
Was God Incarnate and man deified
Because the fall did devastate
Creator must now recreate
And so to take our sin
Was made like us so we could be like Him
That is the mystery
More than you can see
Give up on your pondering
And fall down on your knees.
Christmas Greetings 2004
We sang a little song as children, perhaps in rote, but never-the-less it’s the mystery that surpasses all others. "Jesus loves me, this I know..." When the challenges of being "grownup" begin to overtake me, this little song takes me back to the simple truth that He wants me to come to Him as a little child. He says this not because little children are innocent but because they are incompetent in adult matters.
They don’t worry and scheme about how to make a buck to put food on the table, they just trust that they will be cared for.
And, children can live in dual worlds of both the real and unreal or mysterious. On a little hike in the woods with my great niece, we stopped at the footbridge to have a chat with the troll residing underneath. She directed this little drama, assigning me the role of troll. And so we carried on this conversation, the troll and her, that was both real and unreal at the same time.
There is so much of life that could rob me of such a wide-eyed wonder and mystery, so much that could make me question whether Jesus or God loves anybody, from the misguided who rage that somehow we must "get it right" to be in His family, to the awful death tolls of disease and war…
But there is a profound mystery even in struggle and suffering and death. Jesus likened His own life to the seed that must "die" as it falls into the dark earth, because only then can it bring forth life. This is the inescapable mystery of all time, that Jesus had to die to give us life, and greater still the mystery that His love for me and you is what empowered Him to lay down his life.
On this side of eternity I’ll never "get it right," except to believe the unbelievable... My only hope is in this mystery, that in His death and in his rising again, he cancels the power of sin and death and leads me to an infinite, glorious home, where pain and sorrow will be erased from our memory.
To the Mystery
A song by Michael Card
When the Father longed to show
A love He wanted us to know
He sent His only Son and so
Became a holy embryo
No fiction as fantastic and wild
A mother made by her own child
The helpless babe who cried
Was God Incarnate and man deified
Because the fall did devastate
Creator must now recreate
And so to take our sin
Was made like us so we could be like Him
That is the mystery
More than you can see
Give up on your pondering
And fall down on your knees.
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