Haverhill Commons Church

The road to healing, strength, and peace is not a smooth digital superhighway spanning the universe. It's a river that grinds away our rough edges so that we can embody the other-oriented love of God. The world tells us that the best life is one of comfort and ease, one without struggle, one that is padded and comfortable. But that’s a lie. The best life is the one that Jesus lived in the real world. And the real world is full of friction. It’s one full of difficulty and injustice. Jesus could have cheat-coded his way through this life and didn’t. He didn’t opt out of painful things, and he followed the way set before him all the way to the cross. And there, he shows us what it means to be deeply human.

What does it mean when we say we believe in something? The Cambridge Dictionary defines believing as “thinking that something is true, correct, or real”. We believe in things all the time, but what happens when things don’t go the way we believe they will? Whether it’s simple like sleeping through an alarm we believed would wake us up or looking at the chaos and injustice in the world around us and wondering if God is actually good. In Mark 9, we meet a father whose child has been in distress since childhood. He’s likely been let down enough times that he knows well enough not to get his hopes up. And yet, he believes in Jesus enough that he was willing to bring his son to him and ask if there is anything he can do. The invitation for us then isn’t to ignore our doubts or pretend we don’t have them in order to seem like our faith is strong. The invitation is to show up, just as we are, with all of our questions, our disappointments, and our fears. To take whatever mix of belief and doubt we have at any given moment, and to courageously and faithfully act by drawing nearer to Jesus, saying, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

Runner’s often experience something known as a runner’s high. At the exact moment you’re not sure you can keep going, you get a second wind. Even though you’re still running, your heart rate drops and your breathing stabilizes. It’s like you’ve tapped into a hidden source of unlimited energy and you can keep going. The Transfiguration was like that for the disciples. They saw Jesus transformed. His clothes dazzling white. He was radiant, shining with divine light. They see who Jesus is and they are amazed. But they didn’t get to stay on the mountaintop. They walked down the mountain and to face the road ahead. More mouths to feed. More strangers to shelter. More tyrants to resist. More prayers to pray. More pain to absorb. Another Tuesday morning. Yes, a glimpse of Christ’s glory can sustain us, but more than that, Jesus comes down the mountain with us, which means, we don’t have to face the hard road ahead on our own.

This year, 54% of Americans report feeling lonely. Being around people doesn’t always help. We can be in a crowded plane, classroom, or church, and still feel alone. We can be at a work party with colleagues and friends and still feel unseen. We can be gathered around a dinner table with our own families and still feel misunderstood. But the miracle we’ve gathered to remember this Christmas Eve is that through Jesus, God reminds us that we are not alone. Instead of leaving us on our own, God physically moved right into the middle of our broken, lonely world. The word became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father’s one and only Son. Jesus. Immanuel. God with us.