The resurrection gives purpose and value to our labor. All our efforts to alleviate suffering, show compassion, advance justice, combat corruption, educate for virtue, and create opportunity are never in vain. Never. Why? Because Jesus Christ has risen. He lives and reigns, and in due time he will make the world over.

As Aaron, Moses’ brother, placed his hands on the goat’s head he had confessed “over it all the wickedness and rebellion of the Israelites—all their sins—and put them on the goat’s head. . . The goat will carry on itself all their sins to a solitary place; and the man shall release it in the desert” (Leviticus 16: 21-22).

This goat would carry the sins of the people to a lonely and forbidding place.

It seems that being a woman isn’t what it used to be. Nor being a man.

Seeds, though tiny, were central to the outcome of the entire gardening enterprise. I’d watch Dad as he’d take a seed or two, carefully opening the moist, cool, cultivated soil—cultivation was essential—and inserting the seed into the soft dirt and gently covering it up. Then pressing it down.

Seeds contain the mysteries—and the success or failure—of growth, the outcome of the harvest, and the enjoyment of the bounty. They had to be planted in the right manner in the right soil.

He was without recognition or honor. Or money. He painted more than 1,500 works of art in his lifetime. He sold one.

“One must go on working silently,” said the artist, “trusting the result to the future.”

Without a prepared text he was at times inarticulate. His gift was not brilliance or wit as much as it was incorruptible character. He spoke simply, clearly, and from his heart about his journey to this time and place.

Questions. Rumors. Charges. Confusion. Devotion and hate. Allegiance and plots. Criticism and fault-finding, mingled with loyalty and following. Awe and wonder, along with jealousy and cynicism. He was divisive. Not because he tried to be—God knows he was kind, humble, and gentle—but because of what he said, where he went, who he saw, and what he did. Most of all, because of who he said he was—and because what he claimed about himself—amazing and mysterious—was true.

If God has not given us a spirit of fear, why are so many in Church leadership in the United States fearful? Fearful of government, fearful of the media, fearful of the culture, fearful of public opinion, fearful of losing members – and with them donations.

God is our refuge. Our fortress. We trust in him to deliver us from the raging storms of life—whenever and however they come. Out in the world, the tempest surges with the dangers of the fowler’s snare—seeking to trap us into sin, despair, depression, and defeat.

He was sitting alone on a cot. The room was dark and damp. What light there was helped little against his failing eyesight. Short of stature, he was balding, but lean and sinewy. He squinted at the parchment. Oblivious to his sparse, inhospitable surroundings, he focused with a single-minded intensity on his writing.

He was introduced as “the moral leader of our nation.” He spoke at a time when eloquence counted and words mattered. So did morality, conscience, and leadership. These virtues were not yet mocked or dismissed; they were respected and valued. He was just 34 years old.

Is there a connection between kindness and healing? We influence people’s dispositions—their attitudes, their spirits, even their health—in so many subtle ways. A warm smile, a firm handshake, a hug or a tender word of thanks or encouragement can make all the difference in how somebody else gets through her day.

You’ve got to admit it. This guy had moxie. Anyone who takes on God directly—to his face, up close and personal—is either foolish, oblivious, blasphemous—or supremely confident of his position. Or perhaps he’s nuts.

Here was another conversation between friends. Moses talked with God with a greater familiarity than most.

The pattern of our spiritual history seems to be this -- God does a great miracle, we rejoice, we forget, and things return to a worldly normal, where God is barely acknowledged.

It’s the centerpiece of the sacred and joyous celebration of Christmas. It was a first. No other god had ever done it. No other god could have conceived it. It was an offence, a scandal, a puzzle. The Greeks mocked it. The Jews rejected it. The Bible prophesied it and then proclaimed it. Without it, Christianity wouldn’t even be a very good story, to say nothing of The Greatest Story Ever Told.

The happy music and conversation in the background was oblivious to the painful desperation of one man. He sat alone at the bar. He raised his hands to his anguished and weary face. Tears filled his eyes. He bowed his head and with a whispering intensity, struggled through a simple, heartfelt prayer. “Dear Father in heaven. I’m not a praying man, but if you’re up there and you can hear me, show me the way. I’m at the end of my rope. Show me the way God.”

In the stillness of the night, darkness, like a heavy shroud, hung upon the world. A mournful despair held the nations in its grip. How long? How long would God’s people have to wait? At the appointed time, a shaft of light split the darkness. Mourning would turn to joy; despair would turn to hope… “A light has dawned.”

Throughout the Scriptures we see different times that God appointed for His people to come together. One such time for the nation of Israel was the Feast of Tabernacles. It was an annual feast when the people would praise God and remember His faithfulness and care for them during their time in the wilderness.

In Psalm 80, we can see the psalmist (Asaph) speaking on behalf of a community (the people of Israel) and asking God to intervene and save them/rescue them from their troubles. I think we could accurately call this a “corporate lament”.

Have you ever felt like you couldn’t take it anymore? That your suffering was too great to bear? Have you ever been broken hearted because the wicked were triumphing over God’s people? Asaph felt that way. He wrote Psalm 79 from a place of great despair, during the time of Israel’s exile in Babylon; from a place of unspeakable pain, he pleaded with God. Asaph addressed God humbly and honestly, and he gave us a model of prayer for when we are in distress.