Why is God silent? Why does He seem so distant?
The beloved Christmas song, O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, captures this sentiment. It is often sung with yearning from the soul of one waiting for an answer.
The author leans into the thought that we, like Israel, find ourselves in lonely times that feel like exile.
Have you felt that in 2020? It’s been a long, dark year.
Israel endured 400 years of silence where they didn’t hear the voice of God through His prophets. There was a word from one, in 430 B.C., about a coming restoration. That was the last prophecy for a long, long time.
Malachi warned God would smite the land with a curse. There were wars, foreign occupation, and desolation. At least he got that part right.
Where was God in all the pain? Did He see? Did He hear? Did He care?
A cry broke the silence.
The people walking in darkness saw the dawn of hope–for a child was born. His name was Jesus, which translated, means Rescue.
Jesus came crying.
God became a man, and not just a human, but an infant—defenseless, weak, and needy.
Why a cry?
Not only did God feel the pain of His people, but He became a part of humanity. A cry was the perfect choice after all the distance, the silence, and apparent abandonment.
A cry said you are not alone. I am here with you. I’m one of you.
A cry captured the sentiment that life is hard. We often don’t have all we need or appreciate all we have. A cry says I need more; I need help. Someone, please help me!
God’s answer to our questions is to join us in our challenge. The promised restoration brings understanding. God identifies with our sense of separation by coming close. He doesn’t come to show His authority. He comes to join us in our weakness, so together, we can be more.
That’s the Christmas story; what’s your story?
When one goes through tough times, the last thing he wants is for someone to sit down with him and tell him all the ways he went wrong and what he should do differently.
What means the most is when another person is moved with compassion. Empathy resonates deep within the human soul when there is understanding. Compassion feels authentic when there is a tear, a cry.
The scriptures teach us to weep with those who weep.
A cry broke the silence, Jesus weeping with His people, Israel. Israel–the very name means to struggle with God.
Are you struggling these days?
A co-worker’s husband just died of COVID. We’ve been praying for a month. He is gone. What do we do? We cry.
Our country remains divided and broken. Election day didn’t fulfill the hope that a country could put aside its differences and move on. Who doesn’t wonder if racial strife is simmering beneath the surface, ready to spring up like a volcano?
Hundreds of thousands are out of work. Many people are on the verge of homelessness. There are food lines. Hospital ICU rooms are full. Nurses and doctors work overtime.
Alcoholism is on the rise, so is abuse, so is divorce, so is depression.
You can’t go to restaurants, movies, or church. You can’t go home for Christmas.
Where do you go?
Like ancient Israel, we find ourselves crying, disperse the gloomy clouds of night and death’s dark shadows put to flight. Come, O come, Emmanuel.
God’s answer? A cry.
Emmanuel means God with us.
You are not alone. Jesus does know. He identifies with your human condition, and even if He doesn’t remove it today, like He didn’t at His birth, you too have His promise.
Restoration is coming. Jesus didn’t come to take over—yet.
On the cross, Jesus cried. “It is finished!” Sin’s price was paid once for all.
Salvation comes to us like the dawn. The earth turns, and light dispels the darkness; slowly. It doesn’t happen all at once. Steadily, the kingdom of heaven advances. It’s hard to discern the difference at times, but then you realize- day overtook night.
Death gives way to resurrection. Everything will be made new.
Jesus said to his disciples, in this world, you will have trouble, but take heart, I’ve overcome the world.
One day, the archangel will cry, “Jesus returns!”
When? How long? We don’t know.
Until then, remember: when you cry—you do not cry alone.
Gary Kendall, December 16, 2020