Heaven doesn’t applaud righteousness. It expects it.

In Luke 17, Jesus asks His disciples a series of rhetorical questions on the nature of servant-hood. “Will any one of you who has a servant plowing or keeping sheep say to him when he has come in from the field, ‘Come at once and recline at table’?” At the end of a long day, Jesus asks, does a master invite his servants to sit back, relax, and feast at the expense of his time and effort? “Will he not,” Jesus continues “rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, and dress properly, and serve me while I eat and drink, and afterward you will eat and drink’?” The servant shouldn’t expect to be served, should he? Christ then concludes the line of questioning, “Does he thank the servant because he did what was commanded?” No, of course not! “So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants, we have only done what was our duty.’” (Luke 17:7-10) When we pursue God, study His word, faithfully join in worship, and give of our time, talent, and treasure, we have only done that which we ought to have done. And while a selfish, lazy apathetic, and complacent church may praise us for this and cheer our sacrifice; there will be no applause from God. We only did what we ought to have done and, really, we ought to have done it a whole lot better. Whether you were led into the Kingdom of God by your outstretched hand or dragged by your heel, remember that the Lord led you all the same into His blessing. You live now beside quiet waters, you diet on milk and honey, and your lines fall in pleasant places. What then is the evidence of your love for God and your gratitude for His grace? When one looks at a hardwood forest in the wintertime, it’s not readily apparent which trees are alive and which are dead; seeing as how none of the trees have any leaves. But come spring, as the maple, oak, birch, and poplar fill out with foliage, those trees which are without root and dead will stand out in stark contrast to those that are verdant and alive. As the congregation rises to sing on a Sunday morning, it stands as a forest of faithful folk in winter. It’s not readily apparent which in attendance are spiritually alive and which are spiritually dead. But with every benediction comes the springtime of our faith. It will be by the Spirit’s fruit worked out throughout the week that will ultimately tell the tale. St. Augustine liked to argue that sin was its own punishment and righteousness its own reward. Living for the Lord is only sustainable when we love it; when we’ve become alive to it. Consider asking God to make righteousness your joy and holiness your nature. See if He doesn’t answer your prayer and turn the ought to instinct.

Over 3 million people will travel to Israel this year. They’ll walk the beautiful beaches along the Mediterranean coastline, they’ll hike the headwaters of the Jordan in the Upper Galilee, they’ll swim in the Dead Sea, sample the produce of the Jezreel Valley, and climb up through the Judean Mountains to the city of Jerusalem. A small number of these pilgrims will suffer a strange affliction upon entering the Holy City. These otherwise stable, well-adjusted, grounded individuals will descend into a deluded and obsessive psychosis. It’s called the Jerusalem Syndrome and it’s a well-documented concern. Megalomania, hysteria, anxiety, and bizarre outbursts of all kinds are all common signs of the condition. It’s a much written about disorder and psychologists are continually discussing and debating different theories; but all seem to agree that the root of the problem is in the uniqueness of Jerusalem itself. The very air in the city seems to be charged with a religious electricity that often overwhelms the most spiritually sensitive of its visitors. I’ve toured Jerusalem twice and I can testify to the inexplicable, kinetic power of the place. But while I certainly could sense that it was an important place and that it was perhaps singular in its spiritual consequence, I did not feel particularly close to God there.

There was a time when God dwelled in power on that barren mountain. His people of promise dwelled richly in Israel and built a house in Jerusalem for the Lord to dwell in. Yahweh, the God of the universe, was to reside with His people. His presence filled Solomon’s Temple. To make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem three thousand years ago was to draw near to the very presence of God. But this is not true today. Both Solomon’s temple and Herod’s have been destroyed, Jesus’ death on Calvary rent the veil in two, His resurrection made possible man’s reconciliation with God, and His ascension heralded the coming of God’s Holy Spirit to dwell in the hearts of all who believe. To be near to God today, no one need travel anywhere. Your Mount Moriah might be your grandmother’s living room, your Garden of Gethsemane might be your back woods, your Jordan River might be your church’s tub, and your Holy of Holies might very well be your bedroom closet. The holiest places on earth for each of us are not the places where God interacted with Abraham, Moses, David, and Paul; but rather the places where God interacted with you. As we anticipate the solemn remembrances and the cheerful celebrations associated with Passion Week, let us not attempt to live, worship, and experience Christ vicariously through the written histories of those who came before. Instead, let us strive to interact with God ourselves through the freedom afforded to us by the shed blood of His Son, our Savior Jesus Christ! Make every pew, cubicle, boulevard, avenue, table, and den a holy site in your spiritual history. “Seek the Lord while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near.” (Isaiah 55:6)

Woven fabric is made of many pieces of yarn laid out lengthwise and a single, long piece of yarn running back and forth crosswise; being drawn over and under. Weavers call the lengthwise pieces the warp and the crosswise piece the weft. The warp will never be a fabric without the weft to hold it all together. 

    We often hear the phrase: “the fabric of society” in public discourse and private conversation. Every society, whether it be a city, town, neighborhood, or community is a complex system comprised of many individuals working and living together to create a civil, safe, and prosperous world in which to live. Politicians, preachers, and pundits will often identify threats to this “fabric”, warning that this, that, or the other thing threatens to tear it all up. Now, in the weaver’s work, the warp isn’t nearly as important as the weft. Any number of single threads can fail or tear or be pulled out and it won’t compromise the whole. But if the long, crosswise weft thread is removed, there is no fabric left to speak of. All that remains is a pile of yarn. As we examine the fabric of our society today, we need not worry so much about Hollywood, Washington D.C., or any other of the many individual entities that lay alongside each other across our land. What we need to worry about is whether or not the weft thread of the truth of Scripture, the fear of God, and the Biblical worldview is holding strong; binding us all together. It’s overwhelming to bear the burden of the whole world and the fabric of its construction. But we need not be Atlas. God has called us to make sure that the weft of His Word runs first through our own hearts, minds, bodies, and spirits; making secure the society of our souls. Second, we ensure that reverence for God runs crosswise through every room and relationship in the family home. And finally we work to make sure that God’s will and way holds our church family together by God’s Word being drawn over and under every committee, program, ministry, budget, and member at Emmanuel. What God weaves together this way across an entire land is part of the miracle of the Holy Spirit’s work of revival. The warp and weft of the world has everything to do with the warp and weft of the self.

Pastor Tate and the Board of Elders are happy to announce that Pastor Robb Dix has agreed to serve our church family as Associate Pastor. Working part time, Robb will be looking to expand our ministry by encouraging those interested in starting or joining a small group, by teaching the Word of God, and by discipling us in the gifts and guidance of the Holy Spirit.

Born and raised outside of Boston, Robb grew up in a Christian home and felt a call to ministry as a young man in Middle School. After completing an undergraduate degree at Gordon College, Pastor Dix continued to prepare for his life of ministry by earning a Master of Divinity degree at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary in South Hamilton, Massachusetts. In the spring of 1975, Robb married Bonnie and this June they will celebrate 45 years of marriage. Together they raised six children! Newly married and having completed his education, Robb was ordained in the American Baptist denomination in 1976. The Lord went on to lead Robb and Bonnie to pastoral ministries in Massachusetts, Ohio, and New Hampshire. For a time, the Dixes became involved in a Vineyard church in Massachusetts and through that affiliation, Robb was given the opportunity to plant a Vineyard church just south of here in Dover. With a large family to support, most of Robb’s ministries required him to be bi-vocational. Pastor Robb worked full-time as a property tax assessor in Massachusetts and New Hampshire for 27 years.

Many of you already know Pastor Robb and Bonnie and have been blessed by their ministry, counsel, and hospitality over the last two years. Robb has taught a couple of courses as part of our Christian Education program and, for the last year, he and Bonnie have been leading our mid-week meeting. After much prayer, consideration, and discussion, we’re confident that the providential hand of the Lord has led us to this wonderful opportunity. May the Lord bless Robb and his continued ministry among us!

The other night, the clouds parted over our busy December calendar and Lisa and I decided to buckle
the kids into the minivan and make for Lowes. It was time to find our 2018 family Christmas tree! On
the drive over, I made the mistake of personifying the tree and telling my six, four, and two year old that
right now, somewhere on the Lowes lot, there was a very sad and lonely tree that has been enduring
many long, cold nights waiting for us to come and pick him up and who has spent several anxious days
worried that some other family was going to buy him first and take him away. Our tree couldn’t wait to
be rescued and brought to our warm, cozy little home; I told them. This, of course, spiked the anxiety
level on what was already a somewhat stressful errand. We were barely into the Garden Center when
my two little girls took off sprinting in the direction of the “cries” coming from some motley little tree.
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! We’ve got to save him! This one!” I reached in and grabbed the trunk and set
the tree upright in the aisle and began the usual assessment. Every Christmas tree shopper is looking to
check three boxes on their balsam, fir, or white pine. Does the tree have the right shape? Is its trunk
straight? Is it free of a bunch of bare spots? We shake its boughs down, we twirl it, looking it up and
down, and we see if we can plumb its main line. Thankfully for me, the tree that the girls embraced
wasn’t all that bad and we were able to rescue it.

This whole process got me to thinking about how God selects those who would be rescued and brought
into His home this Christmas. Are there boxes that God checks when He looks you and me over? Do we
have to have that right look? Do we have to have a past and present that isn’t too crooked? Do we
have to be leading full, vibrant lives without a lot of bare spots? That’s when I remembered the passage
of Scripture in Mark chapter 2 that gives Jesus’ response to the charge that He was spending too much
time in the company of questionable folk. Here’s what Jesus said: “Those who are well have no need of
a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” God sent His son into
the world for the motliest of us; for the grossly misshapen, the crooked, and barren. He takes us into
His home and strings us with His heavenly light and adorns us with all the ornaments of His Gospel. And
then the greatest of Christmas miracles happens. Having been chosen, redeemed, and loved; we soon
take the shape of our Savior. Our pasts, presents and futures are straightened out and everything
missing is filled in. Those were glad tidings the angels sang! So, cry out to the Lord this Christmas – He’s
anxious to come to your rescue and take you home to be with Him! Merry Christmas!