Musical Musings: God of This City, Bluetree

Photo taken by TinkerBrad 20 December 2009 and uploaded to flickr

I know I’ve written over this song before. That’s one of the hazards of songs I like; they tend to get sticky with me, and I tend to write over them more than others. But at the moment, just a few days shy of the recognition of the birth of the Saviour, it seems fitting to stop and recognise just what He was born for.

He’s the God of the city. Actually, the Saviour is God of all things, and we are told that His is the name at which every knee shall bow, every tongue confess, that Jesus is Lord. In the beginning was the Word, and the word was WITH God, and the Word WAS God. And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory of the One and Only.

He’s the King of these people. When Jesus was born, a tiny helpless infant, wisemen came from the east, searching for the new King of the Jews. But Jesus didn’t come just for the Jews. He came for all of us, and His Kingdom is for all of us. Peter was first told to open the teachings he’d received from Jesus to the gentile community, and it was Paul who took the word out beyond the synagogues to everyone who would listen.

He’s the Lord of the nation. There are many who would argue that American is a post-Christian nation… and perhaps, they are right. You may not want to admit that; you may want to believe that there are still more people who claim His name than there are who don’t. But do you know what? It doesn’t matter what people say or don’t say about who He is. Just because a woman says she is an orange doesn’t make her a talking piece of citrus fruit. No one can change the essential nature of who people are just by denying the essential nature of who someone is. Jesus was present at the creation of the world, and indeed, is the One responsible for the creation of all things. It is in Him that all things hold together. And when The Word says that He is Lord above all other lords, then no matter who denies Him, no one can deny His place, no one can deny His position, and no one can deny His essential nature as the Creator and Lord over every nation.

He’s the Light in the darkness. John (the book, not necessarily the husband) talks about Jesus as the Light of the world, come into the darkness, but the darkness did not receive Him. Jesus actually referred to Himself as the Light repeatedly. Light dispels shadow, and just a little makes a big difference. Jesus’ birth was marked by a new star in the sky, and His death was marked by a darkening of the earth and the heavens. How could He have described Himself any other way?

He’s Hope to the hopeless. Psalms, written by the poet king David, a man who was a murderer, an adulterer, and yet returned faithfully over and over to God, longing for His approval and blessing above all things, even more than his throne, speaks over and over again of placing hope in God. Lamentations, written by the sorrowing prophet Jeremiah, promises us the following: I call this to mind, and therefore I have hope: because of the LORD’s great love, we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail; they are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness!

He’s Peace to the restless. After Jesus was resurrected, following his horrific crucifixion, He appeared to His disciples. Thomas, alas, wasn’t there. Now, we remember Thomas for his doubt, but that’s really not fair to him; the man was willing to follow Jesus to his death. But no, what marks Thomas for us is his rational mind struggling to make the leap to the supernatural miracle that was proclaimed to him. He had no peace; how could he? He’d seen his master dragged away by a huge army, betrayed by one of their own. Surely it was only a matter of time before they came for the rest of them. And now the rest of them were blathering that Jesus was alive? Nonsense. That was patently absurd. “Until I see the wounds,” he said, “put my hand in His side, I won’t believe it.” So Jesus, in His patience, came to Thomas. “Come,” He said. “Put your fingers in. Touch, see, believe.” Thomas, face to face with the resurrected Christ, fell down and cried out “My Lord and my God!” Jesus, and oh, Beloved, I can almost hear the love in His voice. “Blessed are you because you have seen and believed. But greater are the blessings for those who do not see and still believe.”

He’s Strength in weakness. There is a reason nearly every Christian school takes the Eagles as their mascot. In Isaiah, God promises that He gives strength to the weary, and power to the weak. He says that those who place their hope in Him will renew their strength and soar on wings like eagles, running without growing weary, walking and never growing faint. He tells us to give Him our burdens, for His yolk is easy, and His burden is light.

He’s Love to the broken. Peter, when Judas left, promised Jesus that he would go to death for Him. Jesus told him that wouldn’t be the case… that before the rooster crowed the next morning, he would have denied Jesus three times. He told Peter that Satan had asked to “sift him like wheat” and Jesus had prayed specifically that he would not fall… and then, “but when you return, encourage the brothers.” He knew that Peter would stumble, would fall. He did not love Peter less for it. When, indeed, Peter denied his Jesus, he was utterly broken by the denial. After the resurrection, though, Jesus came to Peter, and pulled him away, by himself. “Do you love me more than all of this?” he asked Peter, and Peter, utterly defeated and broken, could only say “I am fond of you.” Jesus gives him a charge, and then asks again. “Peter, do you love me?” Peter repeats his assertion… “I am fond of you.” There’s a profound difference in the words. Jesus’ term asks for an unconditional commitment; Peter’s is weaker, and reflects his own failure. Jesus finally asks “Peter, are you fond of me?” and Peter, hurt, says “Lord, you know all things; you know I’m fond of you.” And Jesus tell Peter what will come for him eventually.

This story may seem cruel… but it’s love in action. Jesus is lovingly, tenderly, bringing Peter back one time for each betrayal, restoring him from guilt into freedom. And He’s coming to where Peter is, and promising him that one day, he will keep the promise he made. Peter is just one of the many broken that Jesus came to restore. Read the story of the prodigal son in Luke 15 for more examples of the eagerness of Christ to restore brokenness to wholeness.

He’s Joy in sadness. People misunderstand joy. It’s not happiness, coming fleetingly now and gone a moment later. Joy is pervasive, camping out in life. It’s infectious, spreading from one to another without effort. And unlike happiness which is dependent on all the conditions to be just so in order to be present, Joy abides even when there is no reason for it to be there. Joy is at a funeral, when, in the midst of grieving your loved one, you remember something about them that makes you smile or even laugh out loud. Joy is in the hospital of a friend, encouraging them through their illness, helping them smile through the pain. Joy is the giggle in the depression that seems to want to own you… and Joy can be the first line of infantry driving that depression away.

Joy is a newborn baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, laying in a manger, as a young mother and a new father try to figure out what to do next. Joy is angels appearing to shepherds keeping watch over their flocks because the heavens couldn’t contain the majesty and glory of what was happening here. Joy is wisemen following a star to find a new King over many miles of a difficult journey. Joy is Jesus, the Christ, born into a sinful world, come to die in order to free us all, come to be God with us. Joy is Jesus, laying dead on a rock in a tomb, inhaling, taking a breath in His glorified body, and walking out of the tomb, alive though He was dead, and the power that resurrected Him so big, so powerful that dead people walked out of tombs all over Jerusalem. Joy is hope where there was none before. Joy is life where there was none before. Joy is knowing the Christmas is fulfilled in Easter.

Indeed, there is no one like our God. And just think: Greater things are yet to come, and greater things are still to be done here. You think we live a boring, safe faith? You’re not looking. Things are just warming up, Beloved. God still moves mightily on this little rock we call home.