Prophecy—It makes sense that such a powerful word provides the first light of the Advent season. It’s the heartbeat of Israel, the mantra of our forefathers, and the golden thread of promise that weaves the Old Testament into the New. From the very get-go of Genesis, we are met with the hope of prophecy through the promise of a Savior that would crush the serpent’s head. And that promise is reinforced throughout:
· The nations will be blessed through Abraham’s lineage (Genesis 12:3; Acts 3:25-26)
· God’s covenant with Isaac and his ancestors (Genesis 17:19)
· Jacob’s offspring (Genesis 28:14)
· The “scepter” will come through Judah (Genesis 49:10)
· David’s offspring will have an eternal kingdom (2 Samuel 7:12-13)
· A virgin will give birth and be called Immanuel (Isaiah 7:14)
· The Messiah will end up in Egypt (Hosea 11:1)
· Christ will be born in Bethlehem (Micah 5:2)
And then, we fast-forward to Jesus—the Messiah, in the flesh, as promised. And yet, the Jews (aka His lineage and people) aggressively reject Him, despite their extensive knowledge of the prophecies throughout the Old Testament. Jesus did not meet their expectations of the Messiah experience, despite his fulfillment of what had always been promised. He was not what they expected, and those expectations blinded them to the authority of the Scriptures they had studied their entire lives. That should terrify all of us.
I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about the way I approach Scripture. In short, it’s been an uncomfortable exercise, mainly because I find myself using it as a means for my own end too often. I have found myself using Scripture as a personal tool, instead of becoming its tool. More often than not, I defer to experiences when determining spiritual truths, and will sift through Scripture in hopes of finding a holy affirmation that reinforces my pre-determined thought born out of those personal experiences. There is a lack of submission to the text. I am hesitant to yield to its authority over my own ideas, experiences, and conclusions… Just like the Jews that were looking over Jesus’ shoulder for their prophesied Messiah.
It is unsettling to me that I find more and more similarities between the Jews of Scripture and Christians at large today. Exhibit A being me, more times than not. And if there is a bit of Pharisee in my heart, it begs the question—what is God doing right in front of me that I’m missing? What has He promised in His Word that I have chosen to refuse?
When I was in high school, I loved English—I mean LOVED it. I liked it because it was more than it was—the words and paragraphs were just windows into what really mattered about them. The magic wasn’t in the mechanics for me, but in the reason the mechanics were being used at all. There was a story to be told, and the way that story was discovered by its reader drastically affected the story itself. For some reason, it has taken me years to start seeing Scripture in a similar way—as literature. As a story. As something that someone told in a certain way, for an even more certain reason. The older I get, the more involved I am with that story, mainly because it seeps into everything. But no matter how much I study or how much I try to learn, I often wonder—would I recognize Jesus if he walked up to me? Am I more interested in using Scripture to affirm my own conclusions or would I be willing to yield to his voice if I heard him disagree with me?
Outside of Jesus’ birth, life, death, and resurrection, I know the word prophecy during Advent typically is used to point to Jesus’s second coming. The promise of his return is a direct result of his first coming. But, that is not my focus here. I don’t mean to say that it’s not important to think on the final things, and to consider what Scripture has to say about those prophecies. But it is painfully obvious that we can become so fixated in looking for what we expect that we miss exactly what is promised. We serve a God that comes. He came in Eden. He came to Abraham. He came to Jacob. To Moses. To the Israelites. To Mary and Joseph. To Paul. And He comes to you. Now.
Sometimes, I think we forget that God’s coming didn’t stop with what we wrote down in Scripture. Sometimes, I think we forget we have a God who comes after us—who saves us. But we must be willing to be taken by surprise—we must be willing to be wrong in the face of our Savior. We have been promised the power of the Holy Spirit now. We have been promised eternal life now. What are we doing with it?
I don’t have answers to many things, but I’ll share with you the questions that I’ve forced myself to wrestle with-- What prophesies have you fulfilled on God’s behalf in your life? Are you the one writing your own stories and conclusions? I assure you, no matter how colorful they may be, your stories and conclusions will pale in comparison to His.
This Advent, I have been reminded that I am not in the business of Way-making. I am in the business of submitting to a Way-Maker. In looking back at the story of the virgins in Matthew, I believe the smart virgins’ preparation was bigger than just a means to the outcome. We must tend to our lamps now because of what we know has been and is yet to come. I believe that process of preparation has God in it, too. The most powerful thing about seasons of spiritual anticipation is that we are actively waiting for God’s next move, but shouldn’t that always be our stance? The gospel is not just that God is, but that He comes. Let’s make way for Him.