SEEKING THE KING (In all the Wrong Places)

Happy Holidays!

I do hope you and yours have had a wonderful holiday season to date. Me and mine certainly have, including a fabulous feast on Thanksgiving at grandma and grandpas with extended family. And the Christmas season never disappoints, with the return of the Egg Nogg Latte at Starbucks, a particularly warm and inspiring mix on my Paul Cardall Pandora station, and an upcoming trip to the desert to be with the newlyweds (oldest son Kyle and Claudia).

But the highlight this year, so far and by far, has been the Advent service at my church. It was a masterpiece. It wasn’t a performance (thankfully), and in fact our lead pastor wasn’t ever on stage. The stage was moved to the middle of the auditorium, so it was worship in the round. The alternating speakers spoke in a rotation around the stage and invited those sitting in the sections they were facing to light a bank of candles on the stage in front of them. It was designed to take us through the four stages of Advent in one night: hope, peace, joy, and love. It was so beautiful, so meaningful, so inspiring. I love my church.

As it relates to the Kingdom of God and the coming of King Jesus, I had a dot connected for me in the Christmas story this year. We all know that Jesus did not come in the way he was expected to, in power and splendor, appearing to the rich and powerful, and prepared to take names and take over as the military Messiah. Who could’ve known the bottom rung on the social ladder would be the first to hear (shepherds), the maternity ward would be a dark and dank cave in the middle of nowhere (Bethlehem), and the first residence of the king would be in backwater Nazareth where surely nothing and no one good could come from. And the most famous seekers weren’t devout Jews from one of the noted sects but pagan astrologers from outside the Promised Land.

These pagan astrologers, with their expensive gifts, immediately headed to the palace. Of course they did, since they were seeking a king. But the palace wasn’t where they’d find the promised Messiah. It was where they’d find the dreaded local despot of the Roman Empire, Herod. How tragic it was that they sought the Messiah here, as the insecure narcissist Herod panicked and put all the children under two in the vicinity of Bethlehem to the sword. Too late. But, as prophesied, Rachel wept. The Magi finally found Jesus but were officially too late to join the nativity scene (not that this stops anybody). They must have been thrilled to finally arrive in Nazareth, but probably were even more puzzled. There was no palace in this hick town.

I’m an unabashed country music fan, and one of the most recognizable tunes of yesteryear is “Looking for Love in all the Wrong Places.” Country fan or not, I bet you can sing the chorus. What’s true of love is also true of seeking King Jesus. He wasn’t where the Magi expected, and he still doesn’t inhabit a palace or official residence. You’ll look in vain among the rich, famous, or powerful. But you will still find him with the poor, huddled in dark and dank caves; the nobody’s from nowhere with nothing. His first stop is always the Island of Misfit Toys; the broken, marginalized, and rejected of the world who are the first in line to inherit the kingdom. Remember, the dots connect through Bethlehem and Nazareth, not Jerusalem and Caesarea. Eureka!

Merry Christmas friends!

JAY