Friday, January 1, 2010

Christmas 2c - Conclusion

Jeremiah 31:7-14; Psalm 147:12-20; Ephesians 1:3-14; John 1:1-18

Josh and I began 2010 at L.A. Fitness when it opened this morning at 8 AM. He went to lift weights and I went to play racquetball. I played a few games, losing badly but gracefully, when suddenly my right ankle decided it was done and refused to play any longer. I wish I could say it was after diving to return a shot or some other insane move but I can’t remember anything that could have caused it. One minute it was fully functional and then it said, “I quit.” In the past I would have just kept playing because I’ve been that stupid in the past, but now I’m older and weaker if not wiser so the rest of me said, “I’m done as well.” Dale and Butch offered no sympathy and said it was just because I was losing but I always lose to them so I ignored their taunting and limped off the court. I’m hoping my ankle ache is only temporary and will be better tomorrow so I can go to boot camp, but the last time this happened the only exercise I could do for a month was the stationary bike and we all know that doesn’t get you anywhere. The texts for Christmas 2c were written to encourage people who were waiting and hoping and praying that the pain and suffering of their present would not be permanent. Jeremiah imagines for those held captive a day of return with rejoicing where the young dance and the old make merry. The psalmist sings in a snowstorm of security and peace and plenty for Israel. Paul and the Ephesians, facing imprisonment and violent persecution, are encouraged by the word of hope. You were chosen before the foundation of the world and destined for an imperishable inheritance for the praise of God’s glory. And in the Gospel the Word upon whom all the promises of God depend shines into the darkness of death itself and is not overcome. Last week we sang of Bethlehem, the hopes and fears of all the years have met in thee tonight. That is not a bad way to enter 2010 for when this Hope meets our fear hope springs eternal – even if for the time being my ankle won’t.


  1. I hope that you feel better, ASAP! Thanks for the message.

  2. Thanks. It's nothing ice, asprin, rest and a day of football can't fix.