Tomorrow is Sunday — and I’m grateful to start 2026 gathered with my faith family at Christ Community Church.
Hebrews 10:23-25 reminds us why we gather. We come to “hold fast the confession of our hope” — that Jesus is Lord — and be encouraged by others who have been saved by the same grace. We gather to “stir up one another to love and good works”, not as spectators but as participants in what God is doing among us. We gather often, because the Lord has given us a church family and lovingly warns us against “neglecting to meet together”. We gather to “encourage one another”, lifting weary hearts with the reminder that this broken, fallen world isn’t all there is. And every time we gather, we are being prepared for a greater gathering that is coming — shaped week by week into a people ready for the presence of the Lord — the day Revelation 7:9-10 describes when a numberless multitude stands before the throne of God, praising and glorifying the Lamb.
That’s also why we do these “Songs for Sunday” posts. They are a simple invitation to prepare — to read the Scriptures we’ll read aloud in worship, to sing or listen to the songs we’ll sing together, and to come ready to worship with full hearts and clear hope. Preparation doesn’t replace worship; in this case, it deepens tomorrow’s worship it because the preparation itself is worshiping Jesus today.
Sunday’s coming. Let’s come ready to hold fast, encourage one another, and make much of Jesus — together.
17For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ. 18Therefore, as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men. 19For as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous. 20Now the law came in to increase the trespass, but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more, 21so that, as sin reigned in death, grace also might reign through righteousness leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.
19Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! 20My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. 21But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:
22The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; 23they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. 24“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him.”
16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.[2]
9 In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. 10 In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.[3]
Merry Christmas Adam, Sojourners!
Why Christmas Adam, you ask? Well, Adam came before Eve, right? Ba-dum-cha!
I’m somewhat sorry to start with a dad joke, but I am who I am. And even a light moment like this can remind us that Christmas meets us in ordinary, human places before leading us to eternal truths. So, with that smile (hopefully) in place, let’s turn our hearts to deeper things.
As we move toward the culmination of Advent and stand on the threshold of Christmas, we pause once more to reflect on the gifts God has given us in the coming of His Son. Over the past few weeks, we’ve traced the steady unfolding of the gospel through hope, peace, and joy. We’ve seen that our hope rests not in circumstances but in the faithful God who keeps His promises. We’ve seen that true peace was secured when Jesus entered our darkness to reconcile us to God. And we’ve seen that real joy is not manufactured by emotion or ease but springs up where God’s mercy is received and trusted. And if this season finds you carrying grief, sorrow, disappointment, or weariness, there is room for that here. The coming of Jesus doesn’t require us to pretend, perform, or put on a happy face. It invites us to come to Him honestly – needy, heavy-laden, and real – and to find that He meets us with mercy (Matthew 11:28-30, Psalm 34:18, Hebrews 4:15-16).
Now, all of those gifts converge in the love of God.
Christmas is the declaration that God’s love is neither distant nor abstract. It took on flesh (John 1:14). The incarnation is not merely the arrival of a baby in Bethlehem; it is the greatest gift ever given – the Son of God sent for sinners like us. Hope, peace, and joy all find their source and fulfillment in Him because they flow from God’s love revealed in Jesus. Without God’s love, there would be no promise kept, no peace secured, and no joy that lasts. Christmas tells us that love has come near (Hebrews 2:14-18).
In this final study in our Christ Has Come series, we’ll consider how Scripture defines that love – not as sentiment, but as saving action. We’ll briefly walk through three key passages that together give us a clear and faithful picture of the love of God revealed in Christmas: Romans 5:8, where God demonstrates His love for sinners; John 3:16-17, where God gives His Son so the world might be saved; and 1 John 4:9-10, where love is defined – not by our response to God but by God’s initiative toward us. As we do, it’s my prayer that we’ll see that Christmas proclaims this staggeringly simple and gloriously true gospel message: God loves, God gives, and God saves.
God Demonstrates His Love (Romans 5:8) …but God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
This verse doesn’t merely tell us that God loves – it shows us how He loves. His love is not theoretical. It’s not conditional. It’s demonstrated, proven, and displayed throughout history through the death of Jesus (1 John 3:16).
What makes this love so staggering is when it was shown. Paul explains that Jesus didn’t die for good, righteous people or folks who had earned God’s favor. He died for sinners – ungodly people living in rebellion and enmity against God (Romans 5:6-10). Human love, at its best, may sacrifice for someone we feel is worthy, but God’s love belongs to an entirely different category. While we were still estranged, still guilty, still God’s enemies, still unable to fix or save ourselves, God acted. He moved first in love (1 John 4:19).
And it’s important to see that this wasn’t only the love of the Son for us but also the love of the Father. You see, the cross wasn’t a tragic accident or a reluctant sacrifice – it was God’s loving plan of redemption. God demonstrated His love by sending His Son to die in our place (Romans 8:32). The justice and righteousness of God required that sin be dealt with, and Romans 5:9 reminds us why the cross was necessary: “Since, therefore, we have now been justified by His blood, much more shall we be saved by Him from the wrath of God.” God’s love doesn’t ignore sin or minimize judgment. Rather, love moved God to place His righteous wrath against sin upon His own Son, so that sinners like us could be forgiven, justified, and reconciled to Him.
Romans 5:8 teaches us that God’s love isn’t measured by how we feel in a given moment or how well life is going. It’s anchored in an unchanging historical reality: Jesus died for us. Christmas, then, isn’t sentimental but sacrificial. It points us to the cross, where God’s love is demonstrated fully, finally, and forever.
God Gives His Son (John 3:16-17) For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him.
If Romans 5:8 shows us how God demonstrates His love, John 3:16-17 helps us understand why – and to what end. The cross doesn’t stand alone as an isolated act of love but flows out of the eternal, gracious heart of the Father. Long before nails pierced flesh, love was already moving. God loved, and so God gave.
“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son….” These are probably the most familiar words in all of Scripture, but they lose none of their weight or strength with repetition. They magnify this God-sized love, a love not measured by the size or goodness of the world but in the costliness of the gift He gives. Scripture is clear: God’s love for the world is astonishing not because the world was worthy, but because it was fallen, rebellious, and broken. The wonder of John 3:16 isn’t that God loved something lovable—which would make sense—but that He loved sinners and gave His Son so that they might be saved through Him. That is grace. That is mercy.
And this love isn’t vague. It’s not sentimental. God’s love takes action. He gave His Son – He sent Him into the world to take on flesh, dwell among us, and ultimately to bear the penalty for our sin. The incarnation – Christmas – is an act of love. Christmas tells us that love came near to us, and as we said before, Christmas leads us to the cross, God giving Himself so that sinners might live.
John 3:17 presses this even further because Jesus didn’t enter a morally neutral world awaiting judgment; He entered a world already condemned by sin (John 3:18, 3:36). His first coming wasn’t to add condemnation but to offer rescue (John 12:47). Love sent the Son on a mission of salvation – not ignoring sin but dealing with it fully and finally.
This helps us see the way Christmas and the cross are woven together in God’s redemptive plan. God’s love doesn’t deny judgment but provides salvation from it. The same love that sent Jesus into the world is the love that led Him to lay down His life. And the promise attached to that love is breathtakingly simple: “whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.” God’s love invites trust. It calls for faith. And it offers life – real, eternal life – to all who believe in Him.
If Romans 5:8 shows us that God loved us while we were still sinners, John 3:16-17 shows us that this love has always been purposeful, redemptive, and saving. Love gives. Love sends. Love saves.
God Defines Love (1 John 4:9-10) In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent His only Son into the world, so that we might live through Him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins.
If Romans 5:8 shows us when God loved us and John 3:16-17 shows us why He loved us, 1 John 4:9-10 tells us what love truly is. Scripture doesn’t leave love to our imagination or interpretation. It defines it for us. And it does so by pointing, once again, to God’s action in sending His Son.
John tells us that God’s love was “made manifest” – made visible, made known, made unmistakable. Love didn’t remain hidden in God’s heart or vague in His intentions. It was revealed when God sent His only Son into the world so that we, who were dead in our trespasses and sins, might live through Him (Ephesians 2:1-5). Love isn’t about how we feel toward God but about what God has done for us. “In this is love,” John writes, “Not that we have loved but that God has loved us.” Love begins with God. Love moves toward sinners. Love takes the initiative.
This is where Christmas love often gets misunderstood. We tend to think of love primarily in human terms like affection, warmth, or generosity, but Scripture presses us deeper. God’s love is not only demonstrated in sending His Son – it’s defined by His purpose for sending Him: “to be the propitiation for our sins”[4]. That word matters. Propitiation means that Jesus bore the righteous wrath of God against sin, as we discussed earlier, but it also means that He fully satisfied the demands of God’s holy justice (Romans 3:25-26, Isaiah 53:5-6, 2 Corinthians 5:21). Love didn’t ignore our sin. It didn’t excuse our rebellion against God. Love dealt with sin fully and finally by placing its penalty on a sinless substitute.
This is also why no human comparison or analogy could fully capture what God has done – though it can help us feel the weight of it. As a father – as a daddy, I cannot imagine loving anyone enough to give one of my children in their place. My love for my kids outweighs any value anyone else could ever have in my eyes. And even if I could somehow bring myself to offer such a sacrifice, it wouldn’t do any good. My kiddos, like their daddy, are sinners. They couldn’t atone for anyone’s sin. They couldn’t bear God’s righteous wrath. They, like me, can’t even save themselves. We didn’t need a better example or a more inspiring human being—we needed God’s Son. We needed God to put on flesh and dwell among us, live the sinless life we are incapable of living, and die the death we deserve because of our sin. Only a sinless Savior could stand in the place of sinners (Hebrews 4:15, 1 Peter 3:18). Only Jesus could be the propitiation our sins require.
This is the love Christmas proclaims. God didn’t send His Son because we were lovable. He sent Him because we were lost. He didn’t wait for our love but acted in love first. And He didn’t merely show us affection – He provided atonement. Christmas tells us that love came down, took on flesh, and willingly walked toward the cross so that we might live through Him.
Wrapping Up
As this study comes to a close – and Christmas itself arrives – we’re reminded that the love we’ve been considering isn’t something to admire. It’s something to receive. Christmas isn’t only a message to be believed but a Savior to be trusted. And coming to Jesus doesn’t require you to feel “merry”, to force a smile, or to pretend the season isn’t heavy. There is room in Christ for grief, sorrow, anxiety, and whatever burdens you’re carrying (Psalm 34:18, 1 Peter 5:7). He meets us where we are – and He loves us too much to leave us as we are (Hebrews 4:15-16).
For some, this invitation is especially clear. If you find yourself among the lowly – aware of your need, burdened by guilt, weary from sin, or conscious that you can’t save yourself – Christmas holds out real hope. The love of God has come near to sinners in Jesus, near enough to take hold of. And Scripture tells us plainly how to do that: “if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved” (Romans 10:9). It really is that simple – and that profound. Look away from yourself and toward Jesus and what He has done. Put your trust – your faith – in Him. And if you do, God’s promise stands firm: “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Romans 10:13). What better time to receive Him—and the love that’s been given?
For others, this season is a call not to come for the first time but to remember again. Many of us have been lifted by grace – saved, forgiven, reconciled to God through Christ. And yet even the redeemed can grow weary, distracted, or dulled by the noise of the season. Christmas gently calls us back to the gospel we first believed. It invites us to remember what the Lord has done and to ask Him to remind us again – day by day – of His steadfast love. The love of God in Christ that saved you is the same love that sustains you, comforts you, and carries you forward.
This is the good news Christmas proclaims. Love has come. Love has taken on flesh. Love has walked toward the cross. And love calls sinners to come, believers to remember, and all to rest in Christ – because He is love. So wherever you find yourself this Christmas, lowly or lifted, weary or rejoicing – fix your eyes once more on Jesus. The Promised King has come. And in Him, the greatest gift of love has been given.
[4]Propitiation means that Jesus bore the righteous wrath of God against sin and fully satisfied the demands of God’s holy justice (Romans 3:25–26; Isaiah 53:5–6). At the cross, God did not ignore sin or lower His standard; He dealt with sin completely by placing its penalty on His own Son. Because Jesus satisfied God’s justice, all who trust in Him are justified—declared righteous before God, not because of their works, but because Christ’s righteousness is credited to them (Romans 5:1, 5:9; 2 Corinthians 5:21). This means that God’s love and God’s justice are not in conflict at the cross. In love, God provided what His justice required. Propitiation shows us that salvation is not God choosing between love and holiness, but God expressing both perfectly in Jesus.
39 In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a town in Judah, 40 and she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. 41 And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, 42 and she exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! 43 And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44 For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. 45 And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.” 46 And Mary said,
“My soul magnifies the Lord, 47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48 for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49 for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50 And his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51 He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; 52 he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; 53 he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. 54 He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, 55 as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”
56 And Mary remained with her about three months and returned to her home. [1]
Merry Christmas, Sojourners!
As we move deeper into this Advent/Christmas season, I keep coming back to the way the Lord trains our hearts through the gifts He gives. He doesn’t just announce that His Son has come – He teaches us to receive Him.
In our first study in this series, we focused on hope – the kind of hope that doesn’t rest on circumstances but on the faithful God who keeps His promises, even through brokenness and waiting. In the second study, we turned to peace – not a thin calm or temporary quiet, but the steady peace Jesus secured by entering our darkness, reconciling us to God, and holding us fast through every season.
Now, we come to joy – and we pause. We need to know what it is – and what it isn’t.
Biblical joy is deeper than a mood or feeling. It’s not the fleeting and ever-changing “happiness” our world tries to chase and manufacture. In Scripture, joy is gladness rooted in God – gladness that can exist even when life is still hard, even when answers are still unfolding. The New Testament word often translated “joy” can describe the rejoicing God inspires, and it can even describe the occasion or grounds for joy – what joy is built on and rises out of (Luke 2:10, Romans 14:17).[2] That’s why biblical joy isn’t fragile. It isn’t dependent on a perfect day or easy circumstances. It grows where mercy takes root, where pride is lowered, where need is admitted, and where God is trusted.
We can miss it if we move too quickly through the Christmas story. In Luke’s Christmas narrative, joy arrives before the word shows up when the shepherds hear “good news of great joy” (Luke 2:10). Months before Bethlehem, joy is already stirring in the hill country of Judea. A baby, filled with the Holy Spirit, leaps for joy in the womb (Luke 1:44). A woman, filled with the Holy Spirit, blesses the mother of her Lord (Luke 1:41-43). And that young mother, Mary – lowly, standing at the beginning of a road she doesn’t yet understand – rejoices in God her Savior (Luke 1:46-47). Joy was already breaking through the darkness, because Jesus was already there!
Luke 1:39-56, our passage for today, shows us that the joy of Christ is grounded in God’s unfolding mercy – mercy that humbles the proud, lifts the lowly, feeds the hungry, and keeps covenant promises stretching all the way back to Abraham (Luke 1:50-55; Genesis 12:1-3, 17:7; Micah 7:18-20). We see this joy in the song Mary sings. The song is deeply personal but not small. It echoes the hope of Hannah long before her (1 Samuel 2:1-10), and it reaches forward to the Kingdom her baby will grow and usher in – a Kingdom where God’s grace reverses what sin has marred, and where the Savior lifts those who put their faith in Him (Luke 4:18-19, 6:20-23; Isaiah 61:1-3).
In Luke 1:39-56, we’ll see that joy is not something Mary manufactures or inspires in others – it’s something God gives as His mercy begins to unfold. We’ll begin by looking at the original context and setting of Mary’s visit to her relative Elizabeth, where joy first breaks through the silence in unexpected ways. Then we’ll listen carefully to Mary’s song – known as the Magnificat, where joy rises from a heart overwhelmed not with herself, but with her God and His mercy. From there, we’ll see how this song points beyond Mary to Jesus Himself – the coming King who fulfills God’s promises and brings lasting joy. And finally, we’ll consider what this passage teaches us about the gift of joy God gives to the lowly and the lifted, to those who know their need of Him and trust His Word.
Original Context & Setting: Joy Breaks the Silence (vv. 39-45)
Luke tells us that “in those days” Mary rose and went “with haste” into the hill country of Judea to visit her relative Elizabeth (Luke 1:39). This small phrase links what follows directly to the angel’s announcement (Luke 1:26-38). Mary doesn’t linger in Nazareth to sort out the social consequences of her pregnancy or demand clarity about her and the baby’s future. Instead, she moves forward in faith (v. 38). She goes to see the sign God Himself had given her: her much older relative Elizabeth, once barren, is now six months pregnant by God’s grace and power (Luke 1:36-37).
Their meeting is inconsequential by worldly standards. No crowds gather. No rulers take notice. Yet this is one of the most theologically rich encounters in all of Scripture. Two miraculous pregnancies meet. Two stories of God’s mercy intersect. And joy erupts before a single word is spoken.
When Mary greets Elizabeth, John the Baptist leaps in his mother’s womb (v. 41). Luke – the physician – is careful to explain that this is no ordinary movement, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, interprets it for us: “the baby in my womb leaped for joy” (v. 44). Even before his birth, John fulfills his calling to prepare the way of the Lord as he recognizes and announces the presence of the Messiah in utero (Luke 1:17, 76; Malachi 3:1; Isaiah 40:3). Joy breaks out not because circumstances are easy, but because Jesus is near.
Elizabeth is then filled with the Spirit herself and cries out in a loud voice, pronouncing Mary “blessed among women”, not for who she is but because of the Child she carries – “blessed is the fruit of your womb” (v. 42). Then, Elizabeth goes further calling Mary “the mother of my Lord” (v. 43). This is a staggering confession. Months before Bethlehem, months before angels sing to shepherd, Jesus is confessed as Lord by a Holy Spirit-filled woman and acknowledged by a Spirit-filled unborn child. The joy here is deeply Christ-centered, not found in Mary but magnifying the Son.
Finally, Elizabeth speaks a blessing that turns our attention to Mary’s response to God’s Word: “Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord” (v. 45). That emphasis on faith matters, especially when we remember that this moment follows a season of silence brought on by unbelief. The Spirit-inspired words spoken through Elizabeth stand in quiet contrast to her husband Zechariah’s earlier doubts, which left him unable to speak until God’s promise began to unfold just as He had said (Luke 1:18–20, 64).[3]
At this point in the Christmas narrative, Mary doesn’t yet see the full shape of God’s plan, but she trusts the God who spoke. And in a time when God had been silent for centuries, His Word breaking forth again was no small thing (Amos 8:11-12). Even though Mary didn’t know how all of this would work out, God was already showing her that He was with her on the journey (Matthew 1:23). We begin to see here that joy doesn’t wait for completion or a finish line. It doesn’t require resolution. It doesn’t depend on our full comprehension of what’s going on or how things will turn out. Joy springs up where God’s Word is believed (Psalm 119:111, Jeremiah 15:16).
Now, the word “joy” doesn’t appear here, but it is already present – present in the leaping child, the Spirit-filled confession of Jesus as Lord, and in Mary’s quiet faith in God’s promise. And it is out of this joy that Mary’s song will rise – not as a sudden emotional outburst, but as a thoughtful, Scripture-shaped response to the mercy of God at work in her life.
The Joy of God’s Mercy in the Magnificat (vv. 46-55)
When Mary finally speaks, she doesn’t begin with explanations, questions, or fear. She begins with worship. Luke tells us, “And Mary said…” (v. 46), and what follows is not a spontaneous emotional overflow but a carefully shaped song, steeped in Scripture and centered on God. This song, as I have mentioned, is known as the Magnificat, named after its opening word in Latin, drawn from Mary’s opening declaration: “My soul magnifies the Lord.” And that opening line sets the tone for everything that follows.
Mary’s joy in this song is not focused on herself. She’s not magnifying her experience, her obedience, or her unique role in human and redemptive history. She magnifies the Lord. Her joy is vertical before it’s personal. She magnifies her Lord and her “spirit rejoices in God [her] Savior” (vv. 46-47). In humility, she calls God her Savior, acknowledging her sin and need for God’s mercy. Joy grows where pride is lessened and God’s grace is welcomed.
She goes on to explain why her soul rejoices: God has looked upon her “humble estate” (v. 48). Mary wasn’t wealthy, powerful, or impressive by any worldly standards. She was young, obscure, and vulnerable. Yet God has seen her. The joy she experiences isn’t rooted in her being chosen because she was worthy, but in being shown mercy despite her lowliness.
From there, Mary’s song widens. What God has done for her personally reveals something true about His character universally. “Holy is His name,” she declares, and “His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation” (vv. 49-50, Exodus 34:6-7, Psalm 103:17). Joy, in Mary’s song, is never detached from who God is. It flows from His holiness, His power, and especially His mercy. This isn’t a one-time act of kindness but a continuation of what God has been unfolding throughout history and continues to unfold today.
As the song continues, Mary celebrates the great reversal God brings—scattering the proud, bringing down the mighty, exalting the humble, filling the hungry, and sending the rich away empty (vv. 51–53, 1 Samuel 2:6-8). These words are not political slogans or rhetoric but theological declarations. Mary rejoices in the way God’s mercy turns worldly values upside down (1 Corinthians 1:27-28). Joy comes not to those who trust in their own strength—because human strength fails and fades—but to those who know their need and look to God to strengthen and save.
Finally, Mary anchors her joy in God’s faithfulness to His promises. He has helped His servant Israel, remembering His mercy “as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever” (vv. 54-55; Genesis 12:1-3, 22:17-18). Her joy rests in God’s covenant faithfulness to His people (Deuteronomy 7:9). God was doing in Mary what He had promised long ago. The mercy unfolding in her womb is connected to promises stretching back generations, all the way to Genesis and Abraham. And she rejoices in the assurance that the God who spoke to her keeps His Word.
This is what makes the Magnificat so magnificent. Mary’s joy is deeply personal but not private. It’s shaped by Scripture, grounded in God’s mercy, and oriented toward His purposes and plan rather than her own. She doesn’t rejoice because she experienced an influx of health, wealth, and prosperity as some falsely promise; she rejoices because God is doing exactly what He said He’d do. And this kind of joy – joy rooted in mercy and tempered in humility and faith – prepares us to see the true significance of the Child she carries. Because Mary’s song does not end with her; it presses us forward to the work this Child has come to accomplish.
Fulfillment in Jesus, the Coming King
In the last two weeks, we’ve looked a lot at Old Testament references in Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus and in the prophecy from Isaiah. It took some work to flesh out the promises of God and show their fulfillment in Jesus. Luke 1:39-56 is much easier because Jesus is already there in Mary’s womb (Luke 1:31-33, Galatians 4:4).
The promises Mary celebrates are no longer distant or abstract. They aren’t waiting centuries to be fulfilled. They are present, personal, and alive in the Child she carries. The mercy she sings about has taken on flesh (John 1:14). The King she rejoices in is not merely promised – He is already at work, even before He is born (Luke 1:35, Matthew 1:21).
This is what makes Mary’s joy so striking. She’s not rejoicing in who Jesus will one day become, but in who He already is. The reversals she proclaims – the proud scattered, the lowly lifted, the hungry filled – are not wishful thinking or poetic exaggeration but the certain outworking of God’s mercy now embodied in her Child. Luke has already told us who this Child is. The angel Gabriel announced that He would be given “the throne of His father David”, that He would reign forever, and that “of His Kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:32-33, 2 Samuel 7:12-13, Isaiah 9:6-7). Those promises stand quietly behind every line of the Magnificat. When Mary sings of God helping His servant Israel and remembering His mercy (v. 54), she is rejoicing in the arrival of the long-awaited King who would finally do what no earthly ruler – even her ancestor King David – could: bring salvation, righteousness, and lasting joy (Jeremiah 23:5-6, Zechariah 9:9).
Jesus fulfills everything expressed in Mary’s song. The proud are scattered as human self-sufficiency is exposed by grace (Luke 18:9-14). The mighty are brought low as the true King enters the world unnoticed and lives a life culminating in the cross (Luke 19:38, 23:33; Philippians 2:6-8). The hungry are filled as Jesus offers Himself as the Bread of Life to those who know their need (Luke 6:20-21, John 6:35). And those who cling to wealth, status, and self-righteousness are sent away empty because they refuse to partake of the mercy He so freely gives (Luke 12:15, 18:24-25).
The mercy Mary rejoices in here reaches its fullest expression at the cross, a reality that would one day pierce her own heart (Luke 2:34-35). There, the lowly are lifted, sinners are forgiven, and the proud illusion of being able to earn righteousness collapses. Jesus is not a mere announcement of God’s mercy – He becomes its means, bearing sin and the wrath of God due for it, and reconciling sinners to God (Luke 22:19–20, Romans 5:8–11, Isaiah 53:4-6, 2 Corinthians 5:21). Mary’s joy isn’t sentimental; it’s anchored in the coming sacrifice of her Son.
Thankfully, the sacrifice she would later witness was not the end. The resurrection she would also witness confirms that her joy was well-founded (Luke 24:1-8, Acts 1:14). God keeps His promises (Hebrews 10:23). The King lives. Jesus rises, reigns, and continues to extend the mercy she sang about – gathering the lowly, forgiving the guilty, and bringing true joy to all who trust in Him. This means Mary’s song was not simply a celebration for what God had done for her, but a declaration of what God had begun to do for the world. The Child in her womb is the King who fulfills every promise, secures lasting joy, and proves once and for all that God’s mercy never fails.
Wrapping Up
We’ve talked a lot about joy today, and, if I’m honest, I find myself longing to feel more of that joy myself. Thankfully, biblical joy is more than a feeling. Feelings ebb and flow, changing with circumstances and surroundings. But joy, biblical joy, is found – just as it was with Elizabeth, John the Baptist, and Mary in Luke 1:39-56 – in the presence of Jesus. It is found fixing our eyes on Him and lifting our entire worldview toward Him, seeking what is above rather than being hijacked by all of the bad this fallen world has to offer (Colossians 3:1-4, Hebrews 12:2).
The joy found in Jesus is available today. He brings joy for the lowly and the lifted.
The lowly are those who know their need – who don’t pretend to have it all together, who feel the weight of weakness, guilt, grief, and sin. Like Mary, they may feel insignificant, overlooked, or uncertain about the road ahead. But as Mary taught us, God looks upon our humble estates. He fills the hungry. He draws near to those who fear Him and trust His Word. For the lowly, the joy of Christ isn’t ignoring or denying hardship or difficulty – it’s the assurance that God sees, God keeps His promises, and God is at work even when we can’t see the outcome.
If that’s you today – if you feel lowly, burdened, or aware of your need – Scripture holds out a clear and gracious invitation. The same Jesus who brought joy to Elizabeth and Mary calls you to confess him as Lord and believe that He is who God says He is in His Word. Romans 10:9 makes this clear: “if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” It’s not complicated. It’s not earned. It’s trusting Him. It’s faith (Ephesians 2:8-9). And just as it was for them, Jesus is enough.
The lifted are those God raises up by grace. To be lifted by God is not the same thing as being elevated by the world. The lifted are not those who boast in strength, status, or success but those who have been brought low enough to receive mercy. They are forgiven, reconciled, redeemed – and they know that this status is a gift from God by grace through faith in Jesus (Titus 3:4-7, Colossians 1:13-14).
If you find yourself here today – resting in Christ, walking in forgiveness, knowing the mercy He has shown you – this passage invites you not to move on from joy but to return to it again and again – to ask the Lord to remind you of what He has done, to renew your wonder in worshiping Him, and to meet you each day with new mercies (Lamentations 3:23, Hebrews 4:16). Joy deepens as we remember what Jesus has done and entrust ourselves to Him daily.
Joy is not something we can manufacture. It’s something we receive. And it grows wherever Jesus is trusted. May the joy of God’s mercy – secured by Christ our King – take root in your heart and rise in praise, just as it did in Mary’s song.
[3] Zechariah questioned how he could be sure God would give him a son citing that he was “an old man” and Elizabeth was “advanced in years” (Luke 1:18). Because he didn’t believe the angel’s word, he was made mute until “the day that these things take place” (Luke 1:20), and his speech returned when John was named, just as God had promised (Luke 1:57-64). Although the text makes no reference to it, Zechariah would have been mute during the entirety of Mary’s visit to their home.
1:1 The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham. 2 Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, 3 and Judah the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar, and Perez the father of Hezron, and Hezron the father of Ram, 4 and Ram the father of Amminadab, and Amminadab the father of Nahshon, and Nahshon the father of Salmon, 5 and Salmon the father of Boaz by Rahab, and Boaz the father of Obed by Ruth, and Obed the father of Jesse, 6 and Jesse the father of David the king. And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah…. 16 …and Jacob the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called Christ. [1]
Matthew 1:1-6, 16
Merry Christmas, Sojourners!
This is one of my favorite times of the year. The weather is crisp and cool (or cold, depending on the Mississippi weather). Lights and decorations abound. There’s more than enough to do – following our kiddos around, gathering for extra worship times, a few opportunities to pause and reflect on a year spent, and finding that people are more willing to listen or even talk about Jesus than in other seasons.
Over the past few years at Christ Community, I’ve begun to think of this more in terms of Advent than just the Christmas season – not out of some sense of religious tradition or necessity but out of a sense of expectation and hope. The word Advent comes from the Latin word adventus, meaning “coming” or “arrival”. It, of course, represents Jesus’s first coming (hence the Christmas aspect) and His arrival as God made flesh and dwelling among us (John 1:1, 14), but it also reminds us that He is coming again and that arrival in the clouds is on the horizon (1 Thessalonians 4:16-17), maybe even in our lifetime. Advent trains our hearts to wait with hope (Romans 8:23-25, Titus 2:11-13).
Now, this isn’t the sort of hope that we’re used to – some sort of vague wish that we want to come about. That sort of hope leads to disappointment and anxiety. For example, I hear my school kiddos say things like, “I hope I do good on this test.” While there’s a certain anxiety that all too often accompanies the tests, the hope can be more sure than wishful thinking. I remind my students in those moments of all they’ve studied and all they’ve learned. My class is the culmination of all of the English classes they have taken since third grade. Getting to my class means they’ve successfully made it from third grade all the way to ninth or tenth grade. Most of my tenth grade students had me for ninth, so I can remind them also of what they’ve learned, studied, and succeeded at in order to get to the end of the class. Their anxiety flowed from feelings of inadequacy and felt thin because it had nothing solid beneath it.
Biblical hope is different. It isn’t rooted in our effort, our performance, or our feelings. It has substance. It is established on something solid – the promises of God (2 Corinthians 1:20).
The hope Jesus offers – the hope we are reminded of through Advent leading up to Christmas – is based in a more substantial substance than our mere life experience and accomplishments; it’s based out of Jesus’s life and His accomplishments on the cross and through the empty tomb. We can “hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering” because “He who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23). He has a flawless record of keeping His promises – promises no human could make and see fulfilled much less fulfill them alone (see “Appendix: OT Messianic Prophecies Fulfilled Through JESUS in the Gospels”). And we can find hope in His faithfulness because He is the One who promised to come and did (Galatians 4:4-5), so when He promises to return, we can rest in the hope that He will (Revelation 22:12, 20).
Hopefully you took the time to look at the OT Messianic Prophecies Fulfilled Through JESUS in the Gospels appendix, taking a look at the fifty-five examples offered there. Today, though, we’re going to find hope not only in prophecy but in how God worked in the real, messy lives of real, sinful people. We will see that He who promised to redeem and save those who call on Him – confess Him as Lord and believe He raised from the dead (Romans 10:9, 13) – is faithful to do that. Their stories show that the God who speaks His promises is the God who brings those promises to fruition through ordinary sinners like us (1 Corinthians 1:26-31).
So, where do we find these people? We find them – these four women – in Jesus’s genealogy in Matthew 1.
Before we look at any of their stories, it’s worth noting something remarkable: women weren’t usually included in genealogies in the ancient world. Genealogies traced the line through the fathers, generation to generation, name to name. Yet Matthew, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, intentionally highlights four women – and not women we might expect. Their stories are messy. Their pasts are complicated. Their situations were soaked in sin, sorrow, scandal, and suffering. And still the Holy Spirit saw fit to weave their names into the family line of Jesus. Why? Because the gospel isn’t a story for the polished but for the broken (Mark 2:17). Their presence in Jesus’s genealogy serves as the Spirit’s way of holding up the gift of hope – hope that God’s grace reaches further than our failures, hope that His mercy is deeper than our mess, and hope that the promised King truly came to save sinners (1 Timothy 1:15).
These women point us forward to the One who would come from their line – Jesus the Christ, Emmanuel, “God with us” (Matthew 1:23) – the Savior who brings hope to people just like them…and just like us.
Tamar – Hope in God’s Faithfulness Despite Human Sin (v. 3, Genesis 38)
The first woman is Tamar (v. 3), and her story is found in Genesis 38.
Tamar was Judah’s – as in lion of the tribe of Judah (Genesis 49:8-10), the original – daughter-in-law. She was originally married to Judah’s oldest son Er until “the Lord put him to death” because Er was “wicked in the sight of the Lord” (Genesis 38:7). In those days[2], when the elder son died, it was the role of his younger brother to take his place and father children in his name. This fell to second-born, Onan, but Onan was more sinful and selfish than his big brother, doing what was “wicked in the sight of the Lord” and being “put…to death, also” (Genesis 38:10).
Poor Tamar. Her only hope at bearing children would fall on Judah’s youngest, and last remaining son, Shelah. But Judah lied and had no intention of taking care of or continuing with Tamar. What did she do? She decided to be wicked herself. She tricked Judah and tempted him. How did he respond? He decided to be wicked himself. Judah and Tamar committed sin together, her posing as a prostitute and him partaking in sin with her – honestly sinning against her similarly to his late-son Onan.
Scripture doesn’t hide this, and because of that, we begin to see hope shining through the darkness.
Paul reminds us that “where sin increased, grace abounded all the more” (Romans 5:20), and Tamar’s story is living proof of that. Despite Judah’s sin, despite Tamar’s sin, despite a situation that looked like a generational dead end, God preserved the family line through which the Messiah would come (Genesis 38:27-30). And when faced with evidence of his sin, Judah himself would later confess that Tamar was “more righteous” than him (Genesis 38:26), not because she was righteous in herself, but because God used a broken situation to move His promise and purpose forward.
Tamar’s presence in Jesus’s genealogy shows us that the promised King comes through broken, sinful people to give hope to broken, sinful people.
Rahab – Hope for Outsiders, Sinners, and the Unlikely (v. 5; Joshua 2, 6:17, 22-25)
Rahab wasn’t an Israelite, so she wasn’t one of God’s chosen people ethnically, and before the Hebrew spies came to her house in Jericho, she was known for her sinful profession as a prostitute, except unlike Tamar, she was not merely posing as one. Yet she exhibited faith in the God of Israel because she had heard of the mighty work He had done with and for His people (Joshua 2:9-11). She chose to side with God’s people rather than her own and hid the Hebrews spies to keep them safe.
And this is what Scripture emphasizes – not the sinfulness of her past but the sincerity of her faith. We see in the book of Hebrews that “by faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish” (Hebrews 11:31), and James says her works proved her faith (James 2:25). Despite her people[3], her background, and her own history, God rescued her by letting her put a scarlet cord in her window to mark her safe when Jericho fell under His judgment (Joshua 2:18-21).
Why a scarlet cord? Some scholarly preacher folks see in it the foreshadowing of the blood of Jesus – God marking the saved safe through a covering only He can provide. For Rahab, it just represented the promise of the mighty God she had begun serving.
What about the fact that she was a prostitute? Why would someone like her be included in Jesus’s official lineage – in the Bible no less? Because Jesus came to save sinners, outsiders, and the unlikeliest of folks – people like Rahab, people like me and you (Luke 5:31-32). Her inclusion in Jesus’s family tree declares that the hope of the promised King is for all nations and all sinners who take refuge in Him (Psalm 2:12).
Ruth – Hope for the Hopeless and the Gentile (v. 5; the book of Ruth)
The third woman is actually related to Rahab by marriage as she ended up marrying Rahab’s son Boaz. Her name is Ruth (v. 5), and her story is told in the book of the Bible bearing her name.
Like her mother-in-law, Ruth wasn’t one of God’s chosen people. She was from the land of Moab (a people group started out of a sinful union and messy situation way back in Genesis 19:30-37). Her husband Mahlon came to Moab with his family while trying to escape the Lord’s judgment through a famine, seeking help and relief from their own strength and ingenuity rather than from the Lord (Ruth 1:1-2).
While they were in Moab, her father-in-law, husband, and brother-in-law all died. She could have gone back to her father’s house and been right and righteous in doing so, but she decided to accompany her mother-in-law Naomi back to Israel (Ruth 1:16-17). God blessed that decision and relationship and took care of Ruth and Naomi. Part of the way God took care of them was through Rahab’s son Boaz, first providing food and grain for them and ultimately through him taking on the role of kinsman-redeemer[4], marrying Ruth.
This is the beauty of Ruth’s story because providing a redeemer for them was more than just a husband; being called a kinsman-redeemer (Ruth 2:20, 3:9, 4:14-15) is a picture pointing forward to Jesus Himself. Ruth, the foreigner and outsider, the one with no earthly hope, found refuge “under the wings of the Lord” (Ruth 2:12). Her story that began with such sorrow and grief had a happy ending, especially considering Ruth would be King David’s great-grandmother (Ruth 4:17), but doesn’t Jesus deserve a more presentable bloodline?
No, God delighted in bringing hope out of hopelessness and writing His redemption story through those the world would overlook so that those who are overlooked could find hope in Him (1 Corinthians 1:27-29). Ruth’s inclusion in Jesus’s lineage shows that the Messiah is the Redeemer of all who take refuge in Him.
“The Wife of Uriah” – Hope through God’s Mercy to the Deeply Fallen (v. 6, 2 Samuel 11-12)
The fourth woman isn’t even listed in the genealogy by her name, but how she is listed tells the sadness and sin surrounding her: “And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah” (v. 6). This is not a slight to her but recognition of King David’s sin with her. Yes, David, the king who is most often heralded as a hero and worshiper of the Lord is also a sinner.
The man who slew Goliath and wrote a big chunk of the Bible’s songbook committed particularly heinous sins: murder and adultery (2 Samuel 11:1-5). David stayed behind when he was supposed to be with his troops and gazed upon the “wife of Uriah” from his roof as she took a bath. He, even though he was married to multiple women already and she was married to one of his mighty men, decided that he wanted to make her his. The resulting union led to a child between them. Rather than owning up and confessing his sin – to the Lord, to his wives, to Uriah, to Israel, David undertook a massive cover-up that ended in his arranging Uriah’s murder (2 Samuel 11:14-17). He stole this man’s wife. He took his life.
It looks good to have a giant-killing worshiper of the Lord in your lineage, but why associate Jesus instead with David’s sin and wickedness (and the same or worse from many of the kings listed after him in the family tree)? Because this gets to the very heart of the gospel.
Bathsheba’s story contains much sin and sorrow, but it doesn’t end that way. God confronted David through the prophet Nathan (2 Samuel 12:1-3). Their baby died (2 Samuel 12:15-18). David repented (Psalm 51). And God, in astonishing mercy, allowed David and Bathsheba to become the parents of another child, Solomon – the next link in the chain leading to Christ (2 Samuel 12:24-25).
Where sin is great, God’s grace is greater still (Romans 5:20). Bathsheba – the wife of Uriah – being included in this genealogy reminds us that the promised King didn’t come to hide human sin but to seek and save sinners (Luke 19:10).
Wrapping Up
Each section walking us through these women’s stories included rhetorical questions meant to make us meditate on what God was doing in and through them: why include these women and take honest looks at their stories?
In short, there really are answers to those questions. Why would the Bible recognize and record those sins and sinners in Jesus’s lineage? Why would the Holy Spirit shine a spotlight on the stories of Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba? Because they all really happened. Sin happens. Every one of them was a real person with a real story marked by real brokenness. And the truth is that all people “have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). None of us – not a single person in the history of the world other than Jesus – deserve to be anywhere near His lineage. But faith in God – trusting in His work, His steadfast love, His kindness, His promises, and in Him – is woven through that lineage like a scarlet cord of grace, like that cord hanging from Rahab’s window, marking those who He saves as safe (Ephesians 2:8-9).
When we look at the mixture of their sin and God’s faithfulness, their failures and His mercy, their weakness and His strength, we are reminded that noneof us are worthy of salvation. But that is exactly why He came. Jesus Himself said that He came to “seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10). That coming to seek and save is remembered in Christmas – the incarnation – God coming, taking on flesh and dwelling among us (John 1:14). Hope came as God Himself entered the world with a real genealogy filled with real sinners so He could redeem real sinners like us (Philippians 2:5-8).
The stories of these four women aren’t in Matthew 1 to embarrass them or Jesus. They’re there to announce Him! They testify that the promised King comes through stories soaked in sin, sorrow, scandal, and suffering so that He can bring hope where hope seems impossible. Their lives preach to us that no one is too far gone, no past is too messy, no family tree too twisted, no heart too broken or sin too deep for the Redeemer who came from their line (Hebrews 7:25).
So, as you gather with family and friends this Christmas – and maybe as you glance around at some rough-looking fruit on your own family tree – or whether the roughest branch you see is staring back to you in the mirror of God’s Word, remember this: Jesus is more than the reason for the season. He is the gift of hope for sinners. He came through a broken lineage to step into our brokenness. He came to seek and save people like Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, and David – people like you and people like me (Romans 5:8).
If you haven’t before, won’t you ask Him to save you?
Call on Him. Trust Him. Let the promised King fill your heart with the gift of hope – real hope, lasting hope, the hope that only Jesus can give (1 Peter 1:3-5). If Jesus has saved you, take heart in this beautiful truth: the same King who came to seek and save you is the One who holds you fast. Your hope still isn’t in your performance but in Him and in His promises. And “He who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23). He has redeemed you (Ephesians 1:7), He is with you (Matthew 28:20), and He will come again for you (John 14:3). So fix your eyes on Him this Christmas. Rest in what He’s done. Rejoice in what He’s doing. And let the hope of our Promised King steady your heart now and in every season to come.
[2] This was known as a levirate marriage. TheLexham Cultural Ontology Glossary defines levirate marriage as:
“A law and custom in ancient Israel that if a man died without sons his brother would take the widow for a wife in order to provide male offspring for his dead brother. The children then would be heirs of their dead father’s land and possessions and the family line would not be broken.”
[3] For clarification, saying “her people” here is not referencing her ethnicity but the fact that God commanded Jericho marked for destruction as punishment for sin.
[4] The IVP Bible Background Commentary: Old Testament defines kinsman redeemer thusly:
“The kinsman-redeemer’s role was to help recover the tribes losses, whether those loses were human (in which case he hunted down the killer), judicial (in which case he assisted in lawsuits) or economic (in which case he recovered the property of a family member). Since Yahweh had granted the land to the Israelites as tenants, they could not sell it…. In this way the land remained with extended family as a sign of its membership in the covenantal community.”
This describes the way Boaz married Ruth so that Naomi would have access and provision from the land of her husband and family. There was a more closely related person who could have done this, but Boaz chose to take up the mantle of Ruth’s husband in order to give them the care they needed.
12 So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. 13 Return, O Lord! How long? Have pity on your servants! 14 Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days. 15 Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil. 16 Let your work be shown to your servants, and your glorious power to their children. 17 Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands![1]
Psalm 90
Greetings Sojourners!
It’s been a while since we’ve had one of these, but as I am learning, I’m glad to get to do what I get to do when I get to do it. 2025 has been a year of learning for me. I was not glad to be in this class, so to speak, back in the health struggles of June and the months of recuperation, but now, as of today, I can honestly say that I am thankful.
The reason I think about the experiences of the past six months as a class is attributed to my pastor, John Goldwater. On a particularly low evening in the hospital, I FaceTimed him to ask for prayer and receive counsel. I was supposed to be where he was, on a mission trip with Christ Community’s youth group in New Mexico; at the very least, I was just not supposed to be where I was, laid up in a hospital bed with the weight of a mysterious illness and not being able to walk or really even use my arms and hands. My spirits were low, and my attitude was bordering on poor. John gave the pastoral counsel I needed. He reminded me that while I wasn’t on the mission I had planned to be, I was still on mission – the mission God had given me. That hit hard. Then, he told me with his characteristic wit: even though I didn’t sign up for this class, make sure I learned whatever the Lord would have me learn the first time because I sure didn’t want to have to take it again.
That perspective helped me immensely. Even though whatever was wrong had all of the doctors puzzled and befuddled, God Almighty was not puzzled nor was He out of control. I was no less His in those weeks of pain, struggle, and fear. He was no less sovereign. His plan was not thwarted by medical mystery even if that plan seemed shrouded from my perspective.
Some of the things I learned can be summed up quickly:
When we read in Scripture that the Lord is our help in trouble and the true source of strength for those who are saved – those who are His, this is more than a theological truth; it is a genuine truth meant to be lived out.
Marriage is a picture of the gospel. This picture is not fully illustrated through the good and easy times. I have never been served or cared for like Candice did for me in the hospital and since. Her love shown to me is a picture of how the Church should love Christ.
I am thankful to get to do ministry, but I am not necessary. Don’t get me wrong, I know God called me to be where he wants me to be and that He has given me what I need to be equipped to do what He has called me to do. He is who is necessary. Christ Community kept right on going, the praise team did not miss a beat, my Sunday School small group kept right on studying the Word, and every single thing I was involved in prior to June kept right on going because the work of the Lord is powered by His Spirit and not contingent upon my involvement. I’m glad to be back, but it’s such a relief to be reminded my place in all of this, more importantly the Lord’s primacy.
Finally, and I am still learning this, the Lord is teaching me to number my days – which is the subject of our Bible study from Psalm 90 (specifically verse 12) today.
The Context of Psalm 90 – A Prayer of Moses, the Man of God
The attribution of this psalm makes it stand out – “A Prayer of Moses, the Man of God”. This marks him by his relationship with the Lord and helps this psalm invite us to listen in to this prayer, and understand the context being the experiences of a man who walked closely with the Lord and carrying the weight of leading God’s people. Since most Bible scholars date this psalm late in the wilderness years, this prayer hits different when this “Man of God” is leading the people at a time when the older generation who had left Egypt were dying off as a consequence of their sin. This was a period marked by God’s judgment on sin. That sets a rather somber tone.
Moses begins Psalm 90 by lifting our eyes to the eternal God who has been the “dwelling place” of His people in every generation, then and forevermore. Before the mountains were formed, before Creation, God has been God and nothing will or can change that truth. In fact, the eternal nature of God is the basis of this psalm and a powerful part of the contrast with our temporal nature. God is God always and forever. Man returns to dust, our years passing quickly and the strongest and longest lives being brief in comparison to eternity. Sometimes we talk about this as a natural part of life because that’s part of our human experience, but the context here is tied to sin and the curse given in Eden when God declared that humanity would return to the dust (Genesis 3:19). Moses had lived and led long enough to have experienced this up close and personal.
But Psalm 90 isn’t simply a reflection on humanity and time but is instead a community lament, a prayer offered by Moses on behalf of God’s people as they faced affliction and death, asking God to show compassion, turn from His anger, and renew their joy. Psalm 90 traces a pattern: God’s eternal nature (vv. 1-2), man’s mortality (vv. 3-6), God’s righteous anger toward sin (vv. 7-12), and a plea for God to bless His people with steadfast love, purpose, and lasting fruit (vv. 13-17). And woven into the prayer is the reality of time – days, years, generations – because Moses wants the people to recognize that God’s mercy and guidance gives their lives enduring value.
This context makes v. 12 the hinge on which the whole psalm turns: “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” This isn’t about counting birthdays or marking the passage of time. Moses here is asking God to help us weigh our days – to see how few they are, how quickly they pass, and how desperately we need God to guide us if we want to use the time we are given well. This is how a lament can turn to hope by vv. 13-17 when Moses asks God to “return” to His people with compassion, to satisfy them each morning with His unfailing love, to replace their long years of affliction with joy, and to let their work matter and endure – that the Lord will establish their work in light of His eternal purposes.
This is the world Psalm 90 speaks into – a world where our days are short, our strength is limited, and our lives are fragile but God Himself is eternal, faithful, compassionate, and near. To number our days is not morbid but wise. It’s a call to live intentionally following Christ, seeking His mercy, and resting in Him, the God who has been His people’s dwelling place in every generation.
Learning to Number My Days
As I sat with Psalm 90 in these months of recovery, Moses’s prayer didn’t feel like some poetry from an ancient text but the vocabulary Jesus was teaching me in my own heart. The context of the psalm helped me see something beautiful. Moses was leading a people who were painfully aware that life was short, that sin was serious, and that every day they were given was God’s mercy. That’s heavy! Yet in that heaviness, Moses didn’t get stuck in lament but asked God to teach His people how to live wisely, joyfully, and purposefully in the time they’ve been given.
That’s where this really hit me.
Yes, I felt sorry for myself. Yes, I was scared. Rehab was hard. Learning how to walk again was as scary as it was difficult. Every step I took was pain for months. I thought I nothing would ever return to normal. Hospital bills and insurance conversations brought anxiety. Having everyone in my life treat me like a box that says “Fragile! Handle with care!” was frustrating at times, and knowing that I needed their help was a constant weight of guilt and, if I’m honest, shame at times. But I found that with every new step, every new growth, every little gain brought thankfulness – thankfulness to God for carrying me through and sustaining.
When you’ve experienced the reality that life is fragile and our bodies fail us, you begin to understand that every day is a gift. Numbering my days isn’t about counting how many I’ve accumulated over the decades but asking God to shape all the ones He chooses to give me as He wills and works for His glory and my good!
That brings me to the final part of Moses’s prayer in Psalm 90. After asking the Lord to teach them to number their days, he asks God for His compassion, steadfast love, joy, and favor to fill those days (vv. 13-17). Wisdom isn’t just knowing intellectually that life is short; wisdom is knowing that a short life held by God is a life full of meaning.
So, when I ask the Lord to teach me to number my days, I’m really asking Him to do what He promised in those last verses of Psalm 90 – to satisfy me with His steadfast love every morning, to give joy that outlasts and outshines every affliction, and to establish the work of my hands – the work He has called me to – so that nothing done for His glory is wasted. That kind of wisdom doesn’t lead to despair; it leads to gratitude. I wish I could say that I have this wisdom locked down. I don’t. But my heart is moved to give thanks to my God – not for perfect circumstances but for His faithfulness carrying me through this season of life, and thanking Him for the gift of today.
Wrapping Up
As I look back on this year, I can testify that Jesus is faithful. He’s been teaching me to number my days – not by making me afraid of losing them but by making me grateful for each one He gives. Today, Thanksgiving Day, I am thankful to the God who has been and is my refuge. I’m thankful for Candice who has loved me with Christ-like love. I’m thankful for Keri and Xander reminding me daily that God’s kindness is real. I’m thankful for my family serving me and doing what I couldn’t (and can’t) because they love me with no thought to whether it’s deserved – just giving. I’m thankful for a faith family at Christ Community (and the Foundry Church) who carried on faithfully because the work belongs to the Lord, not me. And I’m thankful for the simple grace of waking up this morning with enough strength provided to live today for the glory of God.
Psalm 90:14 says, “Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.” That’s my prayer – not to have more and more days but to have days filled with the steadfast love of the Lord. And for as many days as He chooses to give, I want to live in gratitude to Him, with purpose, and with the wisdom that comes from knowing all my days are in His hands.
So, today, I’m giving thanks – not merely because it’s Thanksgiving, not for the comfort of recovery – but for the God who walks with me through every valley, sustains me in all my weakness, and teaches me to live the life He’s given. He’s my dwelling place. How about you?
Plus, it’s baptism Sunday at Christ Community tomorrow — a day when we celebrate a visible proclamation of faith and the public confession of our hope: JESUS is LORD! And while we get to watch this, we are reminded that baptism itself doesn’t save us but instead illustrates the saving work of Jesus in the lives of those He saves.
Paul gives us a clear picture of this in Romans 6:4:
We were buried therefore with Him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.
Baptism is a symbol of union with Christ — we go under the water as a picture of His death and burial and rise out of the water as a picture of His resurrection. When a believer participates in baptism, he or she procaims that “Jesus died for me, Jesus rose for me, and by faith in Him, I now walk in newness of life!” It’s a public testimony that Jesus saves and that He has brought us from dead in our sins to alive in Christ (Ephesians 2:1-5).
Watching these new believers being baptized will give us a picture of the gospel. We will also read a presentation of the gospel in our worship time in Titus 3:3-7:
3For we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, hated by others and hating one another. 4But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, 5He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to His own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, 6whom He poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, 7so that being justified by His grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.
This passage shows both who we are and what God has done:
Who we are: sinners enslaved, lost, angry, guilty, unable to save ourselves
What God did: “He saved us” — not because of our goodness, effort, or religious zeal and “not because of works done by us in righteousness
How He saves: “according to His own mercy”, giving us new birth and new life through His Holy Spirit
Who we are after salvation: “justified by His grace” — declared righteous — and “heirs according to the hope of eternal life”
And we’ll see this gospel a third way as John opens up Hebrews and points us to Jesus in the preaching of His Word.
So, come tomorrow.
Come rejoice with those being baptized.
Come remember the mercy of God.
Come sing of His grace and see His salvation on display.
And make sure above all you come to Jesus.
Here are our Scriptures and songs:
Scripture | Titus 3:3-7 —
3For we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, hated by others and hating one another. 4But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, 5He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to His own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, 6whom He poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, 7so that being justified by His grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.
3Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? 4We were buried therefore with Him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.
It’s been a minute since I’ve gotten to write one of these because I’ve gotten to preach. On that note, I want to pause to say thank you, Christ Community Church.
I’ve had the joy and privilege of preaching this past month — a brief series on the new life in Christ as well as one back in our Hebrews series. It’s not every church that would listen to someone other than their primary pastor for several weeks in a row, let alone a month, and I’m so thankful that Christ Community is that kind of church. Not because I feel I’m worth listening to, but because you prioritize the Word being preached over the personality preaching it. It has blessed my heart to open the Word with you — to study, worship, and grow together in the grace of Jesus. I am thankful to John for the opportunity.
Candice, Keri, Xander, and I are deeply grateful to have found a church home where we are welcomed, loved, and get to be part of what God is doing here.
Now, on to the business at hand: preparing our hearts and minds to gather together in worship this Sunday.
Sunday at Christ Community, we will remember, rejoice, and rest in the mercy of God in Jesus Christ our Savior. As per usual, we will read from the Word and sing from it, and this week we will also partake of the Lord’s Supper together. The two passages we’ll read together in worship (Lamentations 3:19-24 and 1 Peter 1:17-19) will help us prepare for that by showing both the depth of our need and the greatness of Jesus’s mercy and grace.
Lamentations 3:19-20 says, “Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.” In these verses, Jeremiah’s grief runs deep in this passage as he remembers the weight of suffering and sin. Yet, even in the depths of lament, he turns to the Lord. This serves as a powerful example for us. When we gather, we’re not pretending the world isn’t fallen or broken, or that our hearts aren’t weary; we bring all of that to the God who heals, restores, and saves.
Lamentations 3:21-23 says, “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” This is the turning point in Jeremiah’s lament — remembering gives way to hope. God’s mercies are never exhausted by our sin. Even when we fail (and we will), His mercy remains new, steady, and sure. This is reflected in the words we will sing and celebrate with in “His Mercy is More” — that though our sins be many His mercy is always greater. We’ll also rejoice in His mercy and grace as we sing “Amazing Grace (My Chains are Gone)”, rejoicing that mercy doesn’t merely comfort — it redeems!
Lamentations 3:24 says, “‘The LORD is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in Him.'” This verse caps off the section by giving us the foundation of our worship: our hope is not found within ourselves but in Christ — in GOD — alone! He alone is our portion, our satisfaction, our salvation. And that truth leads us to the cross, where mercy and justice meet and grace flows freely.
1 Peter 1:18-19 tell us that we “were ransomed … not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.” The mercy and grace God so lavishly bestows on His people are not cheap but purchased at a cost — the blood of Jesus. He is the spotless Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, our perfect substitute. As we sing to Him of what He’s done for us in “At the Cross (Love Ran Red)” and “O the Blood”, we will be able to look back on the hope Jeremiah spoke of and rejoice that it comes to us fully today and for all time in Jesus!
And that mercy — that grace — that love — leads us to the Table together at the end of our worship gathering.
19Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! 20My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. 21But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: 22The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; 23they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. 24“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him.”
17And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one’s deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, 18knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, 19but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.
Every Sunday, our faith family at Christ Community gathers for one reason: to worship and glorify our resurrected King, Jesus Christ. We don’t meet out of routine or ritual or religion but in response to the good news that Jesus lived, died, rose again, and reigns forever!
This Sunday (like every Sunday), the songs we sing and Scriptures we read will walk us through the gospel story. Let’s take a look and prepare our hearts to gather and worship.
The Mind and Majesty of Jesus (Philippians 2:5-11) Paul tells the Philippians — and us — to adopt the mindset of Jesus (v. 5). This isn’t some moral challenge but a call to reflect the heart of our Savior. Though He was truly God (v. 6), Jesus didn’t grasp at His heavenly privilege but rather chose the path of humility.
He made Himself nothing — not by ceasing to be God, but by becoming human and taking on the nature of a servant (v .7). God Himself put on flesh and stepped down into our broken world (John 1:14). He lived a perfect, sinless life, obeying the Father perfectly, even to the point of death — “even death on a cross” (v. 8). This crucifixion was not just excruciating; it was humiliating and degrading, the lowest form of execution reserved for criminals. But Jesus bore it willingly for us.
Because of His humility and obedience, “God has highly exalted Him and given Him the name that is above every name” (v. 9). One day, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess Him as Lord, all to the glory of God the Father (vv. 10-11). The One who stooped low to serve and to save now reigns on high as King of kings and Lord of lords.
But if we stop there, we might miss the full weight of what happened on the cross. That’s why Isaiah 53, written hundreds of years before God became flesh and dwelt among us, speaks so powerfully into what Jesus endured.
The Suffering Savior (Isaiah 53:3-6) Isaiah paints a vivid picture of the Servant who would come — not with power and acclaim but with sorrow and rejection (v. 3). Jesus wouldn’t just brush up against human suffering but enter into it fully, yet while people dismissed Him, thinking He was being punished by God (v. 4), Isaiah prophesies an important truth for us to understand today: when Jesus was “pierced”, it was for “our transgressions” — when He was “crushed”, it was for “our iniquities” (v. 5).
Jesus didn’t suffer for His sins because He had none. He suffered for ours. And His “punishment…brought us peace”, and “His wounds” brought us healing (v. 5). The wrath of God fell on His spotless Son so that mercy could be poured out on us.
Just as we’ve read in Philippians 2:5-11, the cross wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t injustice. It was God’s plan to redeem sinners through the willing sacrifice of His Son. And that’s good news for sinners like us.
That’s why we can sing “King of Kings”, the story of Jesus’s humility, crucifixion, resurrection, and glory. It’s why we can sing “Man of Sorrows” and “Jesus Paid It All”, recognizing that Jesus endured sorrow, pain, and death to pay the price for our sin. It’s why we can sing “What a Beautiful Name” — because He is the One who has been given a name above all names and exalted above everything that is.
That’s why we sing. That’s why we gather. Jesus is God, and He is worthy. He bore our griefs, carried our sin, paid our debt with His life, rose from the grave, and now reigns forevermore, seated at the right hand of the Majesty on high.
This is the Jesus we gather to worship.
This is the gospel — the good news — we proclaim and rejoice in.
5 Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. 9 Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, 10 so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
3He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
4Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. 5But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. 6All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
Every week at Christ Community Church, we gather and lift our voices in worship of Jesus by reading Scripture together and singing to and about Him. The Scriptures we are reading this week remind us of who God is and what He has done. Psalm 103:8-13 is one of the most beautiful descriptions of the LORD’s mercy in the Bible, and when we look at it alongside the picture of redemption that is found in Christ in Colossians 1:13-14, it calls us to worship Him with grateful hearts.
Take a second and look at these passages and catch a glimpse of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ: — Psalm 103:8 — “The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” This echoes how God introduced Himself in Exodus 34:6, the foundational confession of His character. He is not quick to flare up in wrath but abounds in His deep covenant love for His people. — Psalm 103:9 — “He will not always chide, nor will He keep His anger forever.” Like Psalm 30:5 and Micah 7:18, this shows that while God’s anger against sin is real, His mercy outlasts His anger for those who belong to Him. His justice is perfect but not greater than His grace. — Psalm 103:10 — “He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities.” If God gave us exactly what our sin deserved, none could stand (Ezra 9:13, Romans 6:23), but He shows mercy in judgment, forgiving sin, iniquity, and transgressions just as He promised in Exodus 34:7. — Psalm 103:11 — “For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His steadfast love toward those who fear Him….” The psalmist piles up comparisons here to show the depth and height of God’s kindness, as abundantly immeasurable as the heavens, decisively removing our sin, and enduring like a father’s compassion toward his children. God’s love is higher than we can measure and deeper than we can comprehend (Psalm 36:5). — Psalm 103:12 — “…as far as the east is from the west, so far does He remove our transgressions from us.” East and west never meet. That’s how completely God forgives in Christ — our sins are gone, removed to never return (Micah 7:18-20, 2 Corinthians 5:21). — Psalm 103:13 — “As a father shows compassion to His children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear Him.” Unlike the gods of the nations who are apathetic and hostile, the LORD relates to His people as a true Father — compassionate, tender, and faithful. Jesus Himself taught us that we can approach God in this way (Matthew 6:9, Mark 14:36).
And how has this mercy been most clearly revealed to us? In Jesus! — Colossians 1:13-14 — He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the Kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. — Just as God rescued Israel from Egypt (Exodus 6:6, 14:30), He has rescued us from a greater slavery: the domain of darkness, the power of Satan and sin (Acts 26:18, Ephesians 5:8). Through JESUS, we have been drawn out of the shadows and placed into the Kingdom of His beloved Son. That’s redemption — the ransom paid through His blood, freeing us from bondage to sin and granting us forgiveness once and for all (Ephesians 1:7, 1 Peter 1:18-19).
This is the gospel. The mercy described in Psalm 103 is fulfilled in Jesus. Our sin is removed. Our debt is cancelled. And we are safely in Him.
That’s why tomorrow we can lift our voices and read these Scriptures. It’s why we can lift our voices to our holy, holy, holy God and sing that His mercy is more and we have hope in Christ alone. Every verse and lyric will remind us of who God is and what He has done for us in Jesus. Every verse preached will point us to Him and give opportunity to see Him more clearly.
So come on out and gather with us tomorrow. Come with gratitude, come with hope, come ready to worship the God who shows compassion like a Father and saves by the blood of His Son.
8The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. 9 He will not always chide, nor will He keep His anger forever. 10He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities. 11For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His steadfast love toward those who fear Him; 12as far as the east is from the west, so far does He remove our transgressions from us. 13As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear Him.
13 He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
As I sit and write today, thinking about Sunday morning, I find my mind on Luke 15 where Jesus tells a story many of us know as the parable of the prodigal son. But if you look closely, Jesus begins that story not by focusing on either son but by saying, “There was a man who had two sons” (Luke 15:11). The main character is neither the prodigal nor the faithful son; it’s the father. Jesus is painting a picture of God the Father, whose mercy and love extend freely to the rebellious and the self-righteous alike.
The younger son demands his share of the inheritance — an insult in itself — and leaves home to squander it all in reckless living (Luke 15:13). When famine hits, he finds himself feeding pigs and wishing he could eat their slop (Luke 15:16), utterly broken and alone. But “when he came to himself” (Luke 15:17), he decided to return home, but not to try and reclaim his place as a son. He planned to appeal to his father to be hired on as a servant.
While he was still a long way off, his father saw him, ran to him, and embraced him with compassion (Luke 15:20). He could have shamed him and railed at him, but he didn’t. He rejoiced that his “son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found” (Luke 15:24) instead of scolding. What a powerful picture of grace and mercy!
But Jesus doesn’t stop there.
The older son, who never left home and worked for the father through all of his brother’s foolishness, came in from working and heard a celebration. When he found out it was celebrating his prodigal brother, he became angry and bitter that his brother was receiving what he thinks should have been his (Luke 15:28-30). Yet again, the father seeks out his child: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours”, and “It was fitting to celebrate…for your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found” (Luke 15:31-32).
In both cases, the father goes out to meet his sons. One ran off and returned in shame. The other stayed home but harbored resentment. The father invites both of them to come in — to the same house, no less — to repent, to be restored, and to rejoice in his love.
This is the heart of our God and Father. He is slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and He is inviting sinners to come to Him.
We see this invitation echoed throughout Scripture:
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
That’s the same invitation we offer every Sunday at Christ Community. Not a mere invitation to come to a gathering or event but an invitation to come to the father. Whether you are running in from rambunctious revelries in sin or have been standing off on your own in self-righteousness, the Father is waiting and watching, ready to embrace with open arms — not because we’ve earned it or are worthy but because He is full of grace.
The chorus of our invitation song sums this up well:
I run to the Father, I fall into grace I’m done with the hiding, no reason to wait My heart needs a surgeon, my soul needs a friend So, I’ll run to the Father again and again and again and again
If you’re weary, run to the Father.
If you’re guilty, come to Him.
If you need forgiveness, healing, or hope — come to the Father through His Son Jesus.
Romans 10:9-13 reminds us that everyone who comes to Him and calls upon Him will be saved. This is the message we preach, the hope we hold, and the reason we sing and live.
And once we’ve tasted His grace, how can we not respond in praise? That’s what we plan to do when we gather Sunday because He is mighty to save, His cross and empty tomb have made a way for us, and all who have confessed Him as Lord, believed that He is risen from the dead, and put their trust in Him have been saved by His grace.
Won’t you gather with us?
Here are our Scriptures and songs for Sunday:
Scripture | Romans 10:9-13 —
9…because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. 10For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved. 11For the Scripture says, “Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame.” 12For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; for the same Lord is Lord of all, bestowing his riches on all who call on him. 13For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
1Praise the LORD, all nations! Extol Him, all peoples! 2For great is his steadfast love toward us, and the faithfulness of the LORD endures forever. Praise the LORD!
Just Keith Harris 