a word for the weary, at Christmas
The days are short, cold, dark, and busy. The calendar is bulging, the timer dinging, the kettle screaming. We’re shuffling here, scurrying there, forgetting this, losing that. And the image of Jesus I repeatedly find myself facing is one of a swaddled baby stuffed in a bale of hay, swarmed by an assortment of farm animals. I need Jesus now more than ever, when I’m tired, grumpy, and stressed, but I find little comfort in the picture of a babe in a stable, illuminated by a giant star perched atop the little barn. What can he do for me?
Isaiah prophecies that Jesus will come as both a Suffering Servant and an Anointed Conqueror[1], but he does not come as both at the same time. When we speak of Advent, what we really mean is the first Advent: the coming of the Servant in unexpected humility. And we long for the second, when we see the Anointed Conqueror return in unimaginable glory. For now, though, sandwiched between these two advents, we can both look backward to the promises God has already fulfilled and forward to the time he finishes everything he’s sworn to accomplish. And as we look back, the image we find is not one of a child cooing happily while angels sing and shepherds kneel, but of a Messiah who “gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard.”[2]
Jesus says, through the mouth of Isaiah,
The Lord God has given me
the tongue of those who are taught,
that I may know how to sustain with a word him who is weary.
Morning by morning he awakens,
he awakens my ear
to hear as those who are taught. (Isaiah 50:4)
This season, joyous and full and rich though it may be, can also strain, sadden, and stress. And the promise we have through our Savior is that, as the Lord’s Servant, he knows how to sustain the weary with a word.
Where do we look for sustenance? For me, it’s in the chunks of time in my calendar that aren’t allocated to something else. It’s in the dinner out with my husband. It’s in the quiet hour when my children are occupied with crayons or napping after a late night. I’m not looking to sustain myself with a word. I’m looking in all the wrong places, even if they’re good places, and I’m still coming up weary. The good news at Christmas is that Jesus knows how to sustain us with a word. The good news of Christmas is that Jesus himself is the Word.
And the strange way we feast on the Word is by listening. We hear the good news; we don’t see it, taste it, touch it, smell it. We hear it. The weary world rejoices indeed, but the Word that sustains us is one that is more than merely written. It has flesh. It has dwelt among us.[3]
This holiday season, as we stagger under the weight of busyness or, perhaps, flounder at the lack of it, let’s pray for more than rest. Let’s pray that morning by morning, the Lord would awaken our ears to hear. Let’s go to the Scriptures, because what we read is how we hear him speak. And let’s never forget that when we celebrate Christmas, we are celebrating the first of two Advents. The best is yet to come.
[1] J Alec Motyer, The Prophecy of Isaiah: An Introduction and Commentary (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 1993), 15
[2] Isaiah 50:5
[3] John 1:14
