Generation Gap

“And he shall go before him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children.” -Luke 1:17

We are now experiencing in our churches what some are calling “worship wars.” It is all about the music. Church growth experts are happily writing prescriptions for reaching generation X, Y, and Z using certain musical formats that involve a particular instrumentation and song genre that appeals to every new and identifiable sub-group that comes along. Some cutting edge churches proudly feature a smorgasbord of services available according to one’s musical tastes which usually falls out along generational lines.

Inter-generational conflict has long been a staple of secular literature and political thought. And I have often felt that the greatest challenge facing any congregation of vibrant believers is to be able to hand down their faith to the next generation. Is the so called “generation gap” a real obstacle to overcome and must the gospel be repackaged every 40 years into “new wineskins” so that the transition be successful?

There is little doubt that nothing ever stays the same. Forms, styles, and cultures all change over time. Yet I refuse to accept the model that each generation must find its own way, that the old cannot speak to the young, nor that the new must first needs destroy the old. The Christmas story gives me great hope in this regard. The first of the angelic visitations came to Zacharias in the temple and announced the coming of John. The clear cut prophecy was that he would go forth in the spirit and power of Elijah as spoken in the last verse of the Old Testament. That spirit would turn the hearts of fathers and children to one another in some powerful and unique way.

I am quite sure I do not fully understand the depth and breadth of that prophecy, but it surely includes a dissolving of any generational conflicts. Evidently that spirit was powerful in Elijah as well as re-energized and emergent in John, the “greatest” of the prophets. In some significant and mighty way, these two giants of Scripture are cross-linked with a ministry that was distinctively marked as one which united rather than divided. Both are fore-runners of the Christ, and each would bear this spirit of reconciliation as one of their distinguishable attributes. It should follow as no surprise that Christ came in the spirit of reconciliation as well. Quite obviously, it is He that would reconcile the world unto Himself by seeking the lost. But I love the foreshadowing of this in His birth.

The Christmas story finds God speaking to both old and young alike, from Zacharias, Simeon, and Anna to the maid, Mary, and her young espoused. No generation is excluded. The story reaches across socio- economic lines and incorporates both rich and poor, educated and uneducated, with the shepherds and the Maji. It reaches out and across racial and cultural lines with Joseph carrying within his bloodline the heritage of foreigners as well as the patriarchs. And who were these foreign kings come to worship?

Yes, we are all met at the manger; both Jew and Gentile, bond and free, male and female, rich and poor, young and old, for we are all one in Him. And soon He would make us all equal at the foot of the cross. I continue to believe He is able to unite us today when we allow His Holy Spirit to hold sway above all our petty differences. He is the ultimate solute that dissolves the walls and kingdoms we erect. When we talk of building unified families, we need go no further than to gather at the manger and enjoy this diverse and odd company bound together by worship that comes of bended knees, not blended or un-blended music.

Miracles

“For with God nothing shall be impossible.” - Luke 1:37

My friend, Ron, was surprised on his birthday this last week by myself and a bunch of men from his life. We had assembled to salute this good friend on turning 60, and after the initial commotion and hubbub, we all settled down for some reflective moments. Somewhat overwhelmed at this sudden gathering of male counterparts, Ron fought back his emotions by recounting the words of an old missionary. This missionary had seen numerous miraculous events in his day but recounted that as far as staying power was concerned, the emotions generated by miracles were only good enough to carry believers through for a day. Ron toyed with us and said that this unforeseen gathering and tribute would be good enough to carry him through at least a week.

As we enter the Christmas season, I once again revel in the miracles associated with the Christmas story. I love turning each one over again in my hands and heart like some highly polished and treasured stone. From the mute Zacharias emerging from the holy of holies to Gabriel’s startling words to an obscure, teen-aged girl; from the orchestrating of political timetables so that humble players appeared on the correct spot of age-old prophecies to the dealing with the troubled spirit of Mary’s suitor; from sending foreign star-gazers an unmistakable call to embark across a desert to the use of common shepherds as eyewitnesses; from miraculous deliverance from sure death to the startling pronouncement of Simeon when he sees an unknown babe of unknown parents: all of it warms and excites my imagination. Christmas is a celebration of a whole litany of miracles whose timing is so precise, whose imagery is so rich, and whose extravagance is cloaked in such humble terms that it pulls at the heart of even the most stolid of skeptics. If I were not a believer, and I read in earnest the Christmas story, I think that I would surely want it to be true even if I would not be able to admit it. There is no story ever written to compare.

But miracles do not wholesale believers make nor do old miracles hold us to the straight and narrow way. Jesus found greater faith in Samaritans and foreigners than among his own who witnessed his power. Peter, eye-witness to a host of miracles, so quickly denied his Lord when heat was applied. The word to the rich man was that even if one were to rise from the dead, his relatives would not believe.

The Jews sought a sign, a miracle, above all, while the Greeks hungered after rational thinking. In the end, neither are fully adequate to lead us home. Indeed, blessed are they that have not seen and yet believe. Nor can one think his way to God. The All-Wise has confounded the wisdom of the sages using the cursed cross, the instrument of death for the worst of sinners. But yet, I am thankful for the miracles. They may not be the sole means of sustaining faith, the irrefutable evidence of absolute truth, but yet they are like beautiful stars in an otherwise dark sky. They speak of mystery, other distant worlds, things beyond my comprehension; galaxies hung in space, far, far away just to provoke my sense of wonder. When life grows commonplace and anxieties overwhelm, I fly to a clear night sky to assure myself that my world is truly bigger than what I can touch and feel. There are great mysteries afoot, unseen forces orchestrated since the beginning of time, weaving patterns of infinite beauty and majesty. What we see are pinprick glimpses of the eternal speaking truth in flickers of ancient light.

The season of miracles has begun. Soak them up, revel in them, and celebrate their beauty, for all too soon we face the light of day when stars grow dim and work calls us to a world of care.