“. . . the knowledge of God as a humble, gracious, and compassionate Redeemer beautifies the sight of his transcendent majesty as Creator” (p. 38).
The main argument of the chapter is that this type of “right” fear of the Lord must include both a fear of God the Creator and of God the Redeemer.
At the beginning of Genesis we have God the Creator. Everything He makes He calls good. But it is not long before sin enters the world (through human choice) and God begins to roll out His plan for Redemption. Each foreshadowing, each step closer to Christ expands our view of God’s intricate artistry—His weaving together of time and space, people and promise, sorrow and courage, miracle and mundane.
Until we find ourselves at Advent, re-reading the story of the Nativity, and wondering at the Mind that metered out just the right rhythm for the birth of His redeeming grace.
At the heart of Advent is this “beautifying” sense of wonder. With modern holiday lens, we call the quaint stable, the loyal shepherds, the meek and mild virgin girl, the census-swarmed town of Bethlehem all “beautiful.” But at the time, the unfolding story appeared as a crazy plan only thinkable in God’s upside-down economy.
"Transcendent."
Adjective.
Surpassing the ordinary. Outside of common experience or perception.
I don’t know about you, but I am abundantly thankful (especially at Advent) that God is a transcendent Creator and Redeemer. From Christ’s birthplace and parentage to the first lowly visitors, and back through a lineage of unlikely characters, the Lord has been confounding both the mighty and the wise since the beginning of time.
Something deep within Mary recognized this as she sang the Magnificat:
“My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
And his mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
he has brought down the mighty from their thrones
and exalted those of humble estate;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
as he spoke to our fathers,
to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”
- Luke 1: 46-55
Before meeting the Angel Gabriel and hearing his message of promise, it’s likely that Mary revered and feared the Lord as Creator. But something miraculous changed within her spirit as she said Yes to God’s plan. Her understanding of God’s character expanded, and He became Redeemer. A God with the power, humility, and compassion to make all things new.
There are a lot of semi-religious platitudes that could be spoken into my experience. But instead, I am trying to think of something in the Nativity story that could speak to into this struggle. We are in the middle of Advent, after all.
I could write about Mary and how radically different her life became after the angel Gabriel appeared to her. Or Zechariah, having to completely shift the way he communicated for nine months, not knowing if and when he would be delivered from his muteness. I might even think on Jesus, experiencing a new identity as a human baby after inhabiting the expanse of the heavens.
But I think what I want to focus on is the life-giving thing that I’ve found in the midst of feeling unsettled.
The first day at my new branch I unintentionally began working on a holiday display about an hour and a half before closing. It was a simple and cute sign with a reindeer in the middle. It turns out, I really needed those minutes of designing and arranging, cutting and pasting. I left feeling like things could be okay. All because I allowed my brain to engage in something creative. To build and shape and imagine.
Today when that hour and a half time rolled around, I intentionally began working on a new bulletin board. Taping and stapling, cutting, and arranging. One of the after-school kids even came over and asked if I needed help. So I put him to work taping up the winter trees I had just made.
How does this connect to the Advent narrative?
I think it’s the whole point. God began work on an intricate and highly creative story when He decided (long ago back in the Garden) to send a Redeemer to save His people. Every step of the way was something completely new that God had never done before. From Abraham to David, from Solomon to Josiah, from Jechoniah to Joseph. Unheard of promises, unique leading characters, strange means and methods, the rise and fall of empires, circumstances no one could have imagined, the miraculous and the mundane. All so that the Son would arrive in a manger in Bethlehem.
I don’t think it was an accident that Jesus’ earthly father was a carpenter. Jesus spent the first 30-ish years of his life on Earth learning and creating, working with his hands. And when His ministry began, He plied that same sense of creativity, originality, and joy in everything He said and did. The Word made flesh, Creator, Teacher, Mediator, the Bright and Morning Star, the image of the invisible God, the Way, the Truth and the Life, Immanuel.
To say we serve a creative God is an understatement. How much can we learn from Creator in the flesh?
In her book, Prayer in the Night, Tish Harrison Warren quotes from English author and teacher, Francis Spufford and then goes on to say:
“’We don't have an argument that solves the problem of the cruel world, but we have a story.’ This is why, no matter what we claim to believe or disbelieve, what rises to the surface in our most vulnerable moments is inevitably the story on which we build our lives” (p. 88).
We are weak and vulnerable every day, some moments worse than others. But we are also creative beings, formed by a Creator God, saved by the Firstborn of all Creation. That is our story.
He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.
- Colossians 1:15-17
