It was back in the early ‘00s (I’ll let you figure out how to pronounce that) and I had just seen the warm spotlights come up behind Roma Downey’s red hair and heard her say, “Gawd looves ya” for the umpteenth time when it hit me: Whatever the script for this week, this story is at least 2000 years old.
God? Yes.
Angels? Sure.
Human suffering? Obviously.
God sending angels to deal with human suffering? Yeah, sure. Obviously?

Just don’t be mentioning the name “Jesus”.

The idea of God becoming a man to build a kingdom not with swords but through acts of mercy, and one great scandalous act of mercy in particular, is as hard for people to swallow today as it was long ago. If He has all power and can do whatever He chooses, why would he appear in such weakness?

In this Kingdom the King chooses a vile and humiliating public execution as His coronation ceremony, and in doing so, turns evil on it’s ear. The greatest possible sin turns into freedom from all sin. Of all the deaths Mankind has perpetrated, this was the most heinous. Yet His capture and death frees us from slavery to the hold and fear of death. And Jesus has promised to keep wringing good out of evil, bending and twisting it to His good purposes, until that day when there is no more evil to be found. Angels are faithful ministering servants, but this is no job for one of them. This is God’s own work. And this is a job for a Man.

So says the writer to the Hebrews in the second chapter of his letter. He shows that this singular Son of God is just exactly like all the other sons and daughters of God, from whom He stands unique. By driving home this paradox, drinking in the scandal from angle after angle, he gives us Jesus our King, Savior, Priest and Brother.

So when did God, who has everything and needs nothing, become needy? Perhaps it was when He first required adding to Himself that which we take for granted: a simple, commonplace, human name. Yeshua, a.k.a. Joshua, a.k.a. Jesus.

I pray my words here will draw you into the ancient, holy words of Hebrews.

Not Angels

Helpers of the righteous
They stand before the throne
Worshipping Almighty God
He sends them to His own
Messengers of mercy,
of discipline and death
The listen to His every word
and hang on every breath

It is not angels
who will rule the world to come
It is not angels
who built the Golden City we are from
It is no angel
who made us all one family the same
It is our Brother, the Son of God,
and Jesus is His name.

A domain that is not visible
All things beneath His feet
A little lower than the angels
His suffering complete
Boldly He has worn for us
two kinds of crown
Cups sweet and bitter,
He has drunk them down

It is not angels
who will rule the world to come
It is not angels
who built the Golden City we are from
It is no angel
who made us all one family the same
It is our Brother, Mary’s boy,
and Jesus is His name.

Joshua and Jesus,
it’s still a name for flesh and blood
So many have worn that name,
but only One has borne their shame

He was made like us
For flesh and blood can die
By His sacrifice He broke the chains
That held you and I
He suffered in temptation,
He knows you when you cry
He destroyed death,
so we are not afraid to die.

It is not angels
who turned away God’s wrath
It is not angels
whose dusty sandals
walked a perfect path
Not for angels
He offered up Himself the sacrifice

It is not angels
who will rule the world to come
It is not angels
who built the Golden City we are from
It is no angel
who made us all one family the same
It is our Brother, the Lamb of God,
and Jesus is His name.

© Dave for Dave Horn, 2009. | Permalink | No comment

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Peace of Christ in Hermantown, Minnesota has a beautiful sanctuary of hand-crafted, polished wood — except for the ‘old rugged’ cross hanging on the front wall. It stands out in sharp relief to the finely finished woodwork of altar, pulpit and lectern. What does this mean?

The carpenter who built the beautiful pulpit, altar and lectern also found the materials for the cross at a salvage yard. The cross is built from wood that formed the side-rails of an old garbage truck in Chicago.

This cross stands as a constant reminder to the people of Peace in Christ to cast their personal garbage on the Cross and see it hauled away, out of sight, out of God’s mind, forever. Though we tend to bring back what He has hauled away, the Cross is always there to cart it back to the heap where it belongs.

© Dave for Dave Horn, 2007. | Permalink | No comment

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Dave wrote a song in 1998 based on Hebrews 12, called “Fix Our Eyes,” and we have been singing the timeless message ever since. In 2004 Dave sang that song at the bedside of a friend who was undergoing a last ditch effort to fight cancer. As I thought of her while singing, “Tear your eyes away from all the sorrow and the pain. Reject the possibility that you have run in vain. Tear away the tangling sin, kick off the heavy shoe, and run with perseverance the race marked out for you.” Lana’s race was nearly done, but we did not know that at the time. She witnessed to those around her the joy of Jesus until her race was done.

We are that joy set before Jesus. He counted us all worth the cost. Enjoy your race every day. The finish line will be well worth the struggle of this life.

~ Sabra

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Wisconsin is a great state. I was born and raised, for the most part, in Wisconsin. I lived for time in Wausau, Madison, Milwaukee, Watertown, and finally West Bend. One of the great treats you get to eat when living in what used to be called the “dairy state,” is Cheese Curds.

After singing at Shepherd of the Hills, in St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin we were guests at one of their potluck dinners. It was a normal sort of potluck that you might find in any church except for the huge bowl of cheese curds! I had to take a picture.

Cheese curds remind me of traveling as a child from Milwaukee to Wausau to see my grandparents. We always stopped at one of the many “Wisconsin Cheese” stores along the way. Never mind the chocolate, we all wanted cheese curds.

Now as we travel to different parts of the country, I always enjoy a taste of the region. Of course my favorite is the big bowl of cheese curds.

~ Sabra Horn

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