Psalm 32:6-7 “Therefore let everyone who is godly pray to you while you may be found; surely when the might waters rise, they will not reach him. You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.”

“What do I really need?” I start thinking about that question when others ask what to get me for Christmas. The answer isn’t always helpful. My need for most things has been satisfied. I might like a flat panel TV, but it is hardly a need, and I know few people buying gifts that cost so much anyway. I need to spend more time with my family. I need to make more evangelism calls. But those aren’t things you can get for Christmas.

David describes a need we all share in Psalm 32. More than anything else, I need forgiveness for my sins. Without it I would be a goner, condemned under God’s judgment and lost forever. But God has forgiven me, and his forgiveness delivers me from his judgment.

Forgiveness is how God responds to our confession. None of us is eager to turn ourselves in, especially if we believe we will only receive a tongue-lashing. But that is not how our Lord has dealt with us. He has always met our confession with mercy and grace. It has never happened that someone repented and confessed his sin, but the Lord judged and condemned that person anyway–ever.

Doesn’t that convince us to turn to him in prayer whenever we need any kind of help? If he loves us so much he delivers us when we have offended him, won’t he want to save us when anything else is threatening us? “Surely when the mighty waters rise, they will not reach him,” David promises. When catastrophe strikes, either God will take us to safety or take us to heaven. Either way we can’t lose. Either way we escape.

So complete is his forgiveness that he is transformed (in our minds–God himself never actually changes) from feared Judge to secure hiding place, from executioner to protector. So certain is our safety, that we can sing–not just whistling past the graveyard to settle our fears, but happy, carefree songs of deliverance, like the happy carols we sing at Christmas. The child in the manger didn’t bring his judgment. He brought the forgiveness that assures us of our safety.

That is what I need.

Psalm 32:3-5 “When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord’—and you forgave the guilt of my sin.”

Judgment Day will be a big problem for those who live in their sin and will not repent. But for those who still have a conscience, the hand of God’s judgment today may be all of his judgment we will ever know. David says this was true for himself when he kept silent about his sin. That does not mean there is some virtue in merely talking about it. I know a man who was struggling with sexual temptation. He spent many hours talking about it to secular counselors only to be told there was nothing wrong with what he was doing. It was natural. He should not feel guilty. Eventually they convinced him that it was okay. He would have been better off keeping silent in that case.

I have been around people boasting about their sins– locker room talk of sexual conquest, people celebrating their drunken foolishness, proud purveyors of petty theft. The sinful acts are bad enough. It would be better if they kept it to themselves.

But the kind of silence David refers to here is the stubborn silence of unrepentance. We refuse to acknowledge our sin, and we try to act like there is nothing wrong.

Because God loves us, he will not let us live in the delusion that nothing is wrong. The little voice of conscience speaks for him, telling us we are wrong, warning us that we are in danger. It may not be a loud voice, but it is persistent. It will not let us forget that God condemns what we have done.

Then the real misery sets in. “When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long.” The constant tension created by guilt makes us ache all over– head aches and muscle aches and joints that ache, right down to our bones. It is hard work carrying this guilt around. It saps our strength thinking about it all the time, always worrying about what God is going to do to me, always wishing my stupid conscience would shut up. Like Poe’s telltale heart, it pounds out a steady beat of accusation: “You’re the one; God is mad; No excuse; Can’t escape.” All of this misery is just a foretaste of the heavier hand of God’s judgment to come.

Yet there is an escape for those who repent. “Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord’–and you forgave the guilt of my sin.” For those who have received God’s forgiving word with faith, the deliverance is immediate. There are no fines and penalties that must first be paid. There is no community service to fulfill. We confess and God forgives. The guilt is lifted.

Pastor Curtis Lyon once told of a woman with whom he counseled whose guilt was driving her to paranoia and making it impossible for her to sleep. For weeks she had been taking anti-anxiety medication, and still she could not sleep. The first time he led her to lay down her guilt at the cross to take hold of forgiveness, her anxiety immediately disappeared. In fact, the medication she had been taking suddenly became far too much for her, and she practically fell asleep in his office that very afternoon.

God’s word of forgiveness delivers us from his judgment even now, ending the misery caused by our guilt.

Psalm 32:1-2 “Blessed is he whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord does not count against him and in whose spirit is no deceit.”

The term “blessed” simply refers to the happy state of the person who enjoys something good. That is what we are seeking, and we think we are going to find, each time we turn to sin. We expect our little indulgence to make us happy in some way or another. We think that sin is going to be a blessing. It’s been that way ever since the very first one.

But the very words that David uses to describe sin provide vivid pictures that show us why sin can never be a blessing. Sin is transgression. The word David originally used describes a rebellion. A rebellion is never a really happy state to be in, is it? It flows from great anger and resentment. It’s based on the belief that we have been deprived or denied. There is tension with the one who is in authority over us. There is no peace. That’s not a happy way to live. Is the rebellious teen a happy person? Isn’t he sullen and angry? Are rebel soldiers enjoying a happy existence? They fear for their lives, don’t they?

Sin itself is a word that means we miss the mark. We fall short of the standard. We are failures at loving God and loving others. I have known people who have chosen the path of failure before. But I have never really known them to be happy to be failures.

The second time sin is mentioned in these verses, the Hebrew word behind it specifically refers to something that has been twisted. So often sin takes God’s good gifts and twists them, misusing them so that they don’t work right anymore, or don’t serve the purpose for which God gave them. If you want an illustration, think of “Sid” from the movie Toy Story taking his toys apart, and putting the wrong parts on the wrong toys to make some sort of twisted “monster” toys. All he succeeds in doing is turning perfectly good toys into worthless junk. That is what sexual perversion does to God’s gift of sex, or drunkenness does to God’s gift of wine, or selfish ambition does to God’s gift of work. It twists God’s good gifts into worthless junk. There is a twisted pleasure some people may take in doing such things, but it is not happiness. There is no blessing there.

Rebellion, failure, perversion, and deceit bring us no real happiness now. They put us under God’s judgment. That is why real happiness is found where these things are not, in the absolution that delivers us from God’s judgment. Again David’s pictures to describe this forgiveness are vivid.

First God lifts the rebellion up and off our shoulders. We are no longer responsible for it. When he sets it down, he sets it squarely on the shoulders of his Son, who dies as a rebel instead of us. It is a happy thing not to face execution for our spiritual treason.

At the same time, our sinful failures have been covered and hidden from sight. God is not intent on keeping a neat file on our failings so that he can refer to them in the future. The blood of Jesus his Son has been spilled all over the file. It is impossible to read anymore. Every sin has been covered completely, every trace of our sinful past hidden. When we know that the only record of sin has been rendered unreadable, we don’t have to fear judgment and we can live a happy life.

Finally, the Lord does not count our twisting of his good gifts against us. We don’t get the credit for our dirty work. That has been given to Jesus, too, and he has suffered the full consequences in our place. This is one time we are happy not to get the credit for our work.

Because the forgiveness of our sins delivers us from God’s judgment like this, we are blessed. Whether or not we are wealthy, healthy, or having fun, we are happy to have a Savior who makes such an escape from what we deserve a reality. That’s not just a possibility. That’s a promise.

Luke 1:14-17 “He (John the Baptist) will be a joy and delight to you and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He is never to take wine or other fermented drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even from birth. Many of the people of Israel will he bring back to the Lord their God. And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous–to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”

How many ways could the Lord impress on Zechariah (and us) that his son John was going to be no ordinary boy? He would bring joy to people far beyond his family. He would be great in the sight of the Lord. Now that’s an impressive statement. How often do you find God giving a man such unqualified praise? We hear that God is gracious to us and loves us. But to call a man great sets him apart. Proud parents hope for their children to do great things. Christian parents hope for their children to grow up faithful workers in God’s kingdom. Zechariah had obviously hit the jackpot!

Did the angel make this extraordinary announcement just to build up a proud papa? No, these words are for our benefit, too. During this Advent season, we spend a great deal of time hearing about John the Baptist’s ministry in the gospel lessons and singing about it in our hymns. Listen carefully! John the Baptist preached in a style that doesn’t play well on main street today. It’s sharp. It bites. It’s urgent. It demands a response. No prophet ever spoke with a clearer commission from God himself. If the message itself doesn’t make us sit up and pay attention to John’s words, then let the angel Gabriel convince us that this is a man we dare not ignore.

But why? Why is it so important that we hear this message? No prophet ever spoke with such promise. “Many of the people of Israel will he bring back to the Lord their God. And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous–to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” A godly man like Zechariah could not have missed the angel’s reference. He was quoting the very last words of the Old Testament. Zechariah’s son John would be a new Elijah, sent to prepare God’s people for their Savior to come immediately.

God’s people desperately needed that preparation. The religious establishment of that day felt that they were on top of the situation. This was a rare period in Israel’s history in which the people were not worshiping all sorts of strange foreign gods. Immorality was held in check. Public sinners were not accepted, applauded, and imitated. They were identified and avoided. It looked on the surface as though God’s people were doing the right things.

But their religion had become an empty shell. People were doing the right things for the wrong reasons. John was coming to make the people aware of the problem with their empty hearts. He was coming to turn their hearts to a Savior who would fill them with his forgiveness and grace, and lead them to a life of love.

Have you looked at your December calendar and heaved a heavy sigh at the load of activity this month? Even when its full of church events, that very busyness can make it hard for us to keep our eyes and hearts turned toward Christ. We, too, need a voice calling with the spirit and power of Elijah to turn our hearts from all the worldliness and externals of this season. Let’s rest our hearts in the grace and forgiveness of the Savior whose coming we celebrate.

Luke 1:5-7 “In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah who belonged to the priestly division of Abijah; his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. Both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commandments and regulations blamelessly. But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren; and they were both well along in years.”

Zechariah and Elizabeth were a couple who didn’t fit into the mainstream of Jewish society. Zechariah had a respectable job as a priest, but there was this matter of children. They didn’t have any. Unlike our day, when couples actually choose childlessness, having no children was universally considered a curse. It was thought by some to be grounds for suspicion of bad morals. “Surely they must have offended God in some way to be denied the gift of children.” Perhaps this couple wasn’t shunned, but they must have encountered situations in which they felt like outsiders.

Then there was the matter of age. Zechariah and Elizabeth lived at a time when people gave the elderly more respect than in our own. But their advanced age made it highly unlikely their family situation would change. It also made them unlikely candidates for special service to God, from a human point of view. Vigorous service to the Lord, a prime role in the work of his kingdom, may seem more appropriate for the young and energetic. Zechariah and Elizabeth had reached the age when many expect to pull back, slow down, and take things easy.

None of that mattered to God. The only relevant piece of information to him was this: “Both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commandments and regulations blamelessly.” That is not the same thing as saying they were perfect. They were sinners saved by God’s grace, like the rest of us. It is rather evidence that they had sincere faith in God and demonstrated that faith by a life that sought to follow his will. God chose this faithful couple to become the parents of the greatest prophet who ever lived. They became God’s unexpected servants in preparing for the Savior to come.

We can learn a couple of things from the Lord’s choice. We may consider certain people suspect because they do not fit the accepted cultural or social mold for a Christian. I’m not referring to issues of biblical faith or morals. Those are standards we must defend vigorously and promote aggressively.

Rather, we become guilty of marginalizing people, moving them off to the fringes of congregational life and service, because they aren’t like most of us in ways that have nothing to do with biblical standards–the elderly, the single, people with disabilities, those who have low incomes.  God doesn’t discount them from serving him on these grounds. Zechariah and Elizabeth, like other senior citizens mentioned in the Bible, teach us not to overlook people for service just because the hair is turning gray.

At the same time, God’s choice here encourages us. We may not see ourselves as big players on the grand stage of history. I’m sure Zechariah and Elizabeth never imagined they would rise from obscurity to play a part in God’s plan to save the world and have their names recorded on the pages of Scripture.

But just as God’s grace rescues sinners who have done nothing to deserve his favor, it chooses servants who have done nothing to suggest they are qualified for his missions. Don’t discount the Lord’s ability to use you. He saved you. Who knows what grand adventures in faith he may have planned for any one of his faithful people?

Deuteronomy 16:10 “Celebrate the Feast of Weeks to the Lord your God by giving a freewill offering in proportion to the blessings the Lord your God has given you.”

How the people of Israel celebrated the Feast of Weeks or Pentecost did not affect the harvest they had just reaped. By the time of the feast, most of the grain was in the barns. The things God asked them to do in celebration of this feast were not some sort of payment for what they had received. The harvest was in, and nothing would change that.

Rather, the offerings the Lord asked them to bring were to be a response. They were a token of appreciation for the goodness he had shown to them. They were a symbol that the people had given the Lord something much more interesting to him than the offering. What he wanted was their hearts.

This is why the Lord describes this offering here as a “freewill” offering. There was not some specific amount that God demanded they give. He didn’t even indicate what percentage. They were to make up their minds in their own hearts and give what they were moved to give.

That doesn’t mean that the Lord gave them no guidance whatsoever. He does say that the offering is to be “in proportion to the blessings the Lord your God has given you.” Some years the harvest would be bigger. Some years smaller. Some individuals would have more productive fields, others less so. If God’s people had truly given him their hearts, if they realized that without him they had absolutely nothing, if they were full of the realization that once again he had given beggars like them bread for another year, and even more than they needed, then their offerings would reflect that they both understood and returned his love.

This part of the feast presages how Christ wants the work of taking the gospel to the world supported. In the New Testament, we have no “temple tax.” Although you may hear Christians speak of “tithing,” strictly speaking, there is no “tithe” demanded anymore. God has not attached predetermined percentages to the offerings we bring. They are, like the offering at the Feast of Weeks, “freewill.” As Paul tells us, “Each one should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.”

Since this is the case, our offerings are a reflection of our hearts. What does our giving say about us? The average active Christian family gives between 2 and 3 percent of its income for the Lord’s work. They spend more on entertainment. Does that mean that our average family ranks God somewhere behind TV, movies, sports, and weekend trips to the amusement park? Some reach the ten percent mark in their giving. They see no need to grow beyond this. Does that mean we limit the place the Lord holds in our hearts? I have heard some Christians complain that the church seems perpetually needy. But to whom are we really giving: an institution, or our Lord?

When our hearts have become small, and cramped, there is little room for our Lord there. Then there is only one thing we can do. Look back at the goodness he has shown to us. He has not just given us a harvest. He has made us a part of it. By sending his Son, and forgiving our sins, and bringing us to faith, God has gathered us to himself. We are a unique harvest he does not intend to sell by the bushel, or consume through the winter, or store away in barns. He treasures us for himself and gathers us into his own home to live with him forever.

Hearts that are full of God’s generosity to us will overflow with generous offerings to him in response.

Deuteronomy 16:9-10 “Count off seven weeks from the time you begin to put the sickle to the standing grain. Then celebrate the Feast of Weeks to the Lord your God…”

The climate in our country means that we harvest grain and give thanks to God in the fall. The climate in Israel meant that all this took place in the spring. At about the same time that the people would be finishing their harvest of wheat and barley, seven weeks after it had started, the Lord commanded them to celebrate a Feast to him. Since the Promised Land was a land “flowing with milk and honey,” they would have a reason to celebrate. Unlike the desert in which they had lived in Egypt, parts of Israel were lush and fertile. This land kept them richly fed.

But there was another reason for Israel to celebrate a Feast to the Lord when they gathered in the harvest. There was a certain predictability to the harvests in Egypt. In addition to the annual flooding of the Nile, man-made irrigation systems kept the fields watered. The promised land, on the other hand, relied upon the rains for water. No “human engineering” could change the rainfall. The farmers among God’s people simply had to rely upon the Lord to send them rain. They were at God’s mercy for the success of their harvest. And when God had been so merciful, their reason for thanking him was impressed upon them more.

God wanted this gathering in of his harvest to lead Israel to do more than look back. As they took a day to celebrate the harvest, he wanted them to look ahead as well. The prophet Jeremiah spoke of the Lord gathering the people of Israel to himself as the first fruits of his harvest. The last chapter of Isaiah describes the Lord gathering the nations together as his people like Jewish farmers bringing their grain offerings to the temple.

Jesus picked up these same pictures in his ministry. He told his disciples in Matthew 9, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore to send out workers into his harvest field.” After talking to the Samaritan woman in John 4, he also told them: “I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest. Even now the reaper draws his wages, even now he harvests the crop for eternal life…” An even greater harvest than the grain harvest was the harvest of souls the Lord wanted his people to bring in.

At no time did God make the full meaning of this harvest festival more clear than when he chose this day of Pentecost to give Jesus’ disciples the Holy Spirit and begin the Church’s work of harvesting souls. That first day in Acts 2, Peter’s sermon harvested 3000 souls for God’s kingdom. It’s clear that God wanted the gathering of his gifts of grain to presage Christ’s commission to take the gospel to all the world and bring souls to faith.

We still associate the harvest of our food with God’s harvest of souls. Today, we are still living in the fulfillment of this Feast of Weeks or Pentecost. When Jesus gave his life for our sins at the cross, that was a one-time event. We look back at work done. But he continues to extend his mission to harvest souls through our mission work today.

Advent, the weeks leading to Christmas, gives us a prime opportunity to do just that. What better time to invite a friend to church? Everyone can sing the Christmas carols.  Luke chapter 2 is popular with the general public. At what other time of the year (with the exception of Easter) is the message that God so loved us that he was willing to go to extreme lengths to save us more clear?

Our journey back in time to the Feast of Pentecost provides a timely reminder, as Christmas approaches, that we are still gathering God’s harvest of souls.

2 Kings 2:11-12 “As they were walking along and talking together, suddenly a chariot of fire and horses of fire appeared and separated the two of them, and Elijah went up to heaven in a whirlwind. Elisha saw this and cried out, ‘My father! My father! The chariots and horsemen of Israel!’ And Elisha saw him no more. Then he took hold of his own clothes and tore them apart.”

Nothing scares people more than death. In fact, it is the one thing that seems to be lurking behind every other fear. There are few places we invest so much expense and effort as we do in death prevention, from hiding air bags in every spare inch of our vehicles, to investing billions in medical research each year, to supporting vast armies and police forces and fire departments to keep us safe. We do so in spite of the fact that death is inevitable, that the death rate has remained almost constant since the world began: one per person.

“Ah,” you think to yourself, “but here we have an exception, because Elijah didn’t die.” And you are right. The fact that he reappeared with Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration confirms that Elijah was translated to heaven without tasting death, as we see here. But whether God swept Elijah to heaven in a storm, or whether the prophet had keeled over in front of his friend, the effect was the same for Elisha, wasn’t it? He was separated from the spiritual father and friend he cared for so deeply. At least part of Elisha’s reaction was the same as those who mourned a death in the family: he tore his clothes.

But Elijah’s fate also reminds us why God’s promises are faithful in spite of our fear of death and the separation we must suffer. Toward the end of the movie “Hook,” Captain Hook challenges Peter Pan to a duel to the death. Peter Pan replies, “Death would be a great adventure,” and Hook agrees, “Death would be the greatest adventure.”

Now I doubt whether Peter Pan or Captain Hook were thinking about the same thing that I am thinking, but I can agree that death is at least the start of the greatest adventure. That’s not just because there is a sense of mystery about what happens, but because the child of God knows that heaven is waiting for him on the other side. That’s where Elijah went here: “…and Elijah went up to heaven in a whirlwind.” That’s the promise of Jesus’ resurrection for each one of us after we die. “The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom,” the Apostle Paul assured Timothy.

And isn’t that ultimately what Christ came to do for us? He heads the world’s largest and longest running rescue operation: to get people off this spiritually sinking planet to safety in heaven. Each child of God who dies in faith is a success story. In their case, it’s “mission accomplished.” We have finally gotten this one to safety, and now we can turn more of our efforts to reaching someone else. In spite of our sadness at parting, in spite of our fears, we can be certain even death brings us blessing, because he has transformed it into the ladder to safety in heaven.

2 Kings 2:9-10 When they had crossed, Elijah said to Elisha, ‘Tell me, what can I do for you before I am taken from you?’ ‘Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit,’ Elisha replied. ‘You have asked a difficult thing,’ Elijah said, ‘yet if you see me when I am taken from you, it will be yours–otherwise not.’”

Elisha was the heir apparent to Elijah’s ministry. God had told Elijah to anoint Elisha to succeed him as prophet. When he asked for a “double portion” of Elijah’s spirit, he wasn’t asking for twice as much as Elijah had. He was asking for the first born son’s inheritance. In ancient times, since the first born son would take his father’s place in the family, he received twice as much as any of the other heirs. If Elisha was going to inherit Elijah’s position as spiritual leader of Israel, then he wanted the spiritual gifts from God that were necessary to carry it out.

Do you see what Elisha is thinking? He sees that the task in front of him is greater than he is. He is aware of his spiritual poverty, his spiritual neediness, in the face of his responsibility. He was called to lead God’s people back to the Lord. He knows that he is not super-spiritual. He is an ordinary man, a simple sinner. He needs to lean on someone other than himself if he is going to be of any use to God or anyone else.

Is that hard for us to admit? We are no different than Elisha, but that doesn’t sit well with our pride. Even in mundane matters we find it difficult to admit our weakness and dependence on others. That’s why I insist that I can fix the car myself, that I can assemble the gas grill without reading the instructions, that I can lift the heavy box without someone on the other side to help. And what does our pride get us in such cases? Costlier repairs? A dangerous explosion? A wrenched back?

In spiritual matters, the stakes are even higher. We develop a false sense of self-confidence. We believe that we have become spiritually pumped.We think we can do God’s work on our own. We are afraid that if we keep coming to God with empty hands we will develop a welfare mentality. We forget that sin is a permanent disability, at least this side of heaven.

The Apostle Peter was once too proud to receive Jesus’ help when Jesus washed his disciples’ feet. Remember Jesus’ response? “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.” Persistent refusal to depend on God and receive his gifts not only guarantees that our service will flop. That kind of pride cuts us off from God himself.

When we come to the same realization that Elisha had, we are confident in Christ’s power to carry us forward, in spite of our neediness, our weakness, and our dependence. God’s grace did everything to save us. He paid the full cost of every sin. We can trust him to fill us and give us every power we need to do his work.

The Apostle Paul once said of his suffering, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” I am always weak. But when we recognize this, then we are ready to depend on God’s strength. We depend on him not only for forgiveness and life. Even the ability to serve is a gift of his grace. The power to accomplish what he gives us to do comes from him.