What are you expecting this Christmas? Beyond a chocolate orange in the toe of your stocking, what are you really hoping for? More specifically, what are you expecting God to do in your church?
Perhaps we have outreach planned, invitations printed, and names to pray for, but are we really expecting people to care? To say yes with their feet as well as their lips? And what would we do if their curiosity conquered the damp darkness more than once, and they were still coming to church in late January? Would we be ready for that?
‘Expect great things, attempt great things.’ That was William Carey’s slogan, inspired by Isaiah’s call to ‘enlarge your tent, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes’ (Is. 54:2). If our Maker really is our Husband, the LORD Almighty who acts in compassionate redemption, then why would we not expect great gifts from him and attempt great ventures for him?
Perhaps the LORD…
Looking out at our own situation, we hear rumours of a ‘Quiet Revival’. Perhaps you have read surprising statistics about openness to prayer or an invitation to church. Perhaps you have heard stories of people coming to faith through TikTok, or met someone compelled to buy a Bible after stumbling upon the YouTube lectures of an eccentric psychologist. Perhaps you’re approaching Christmas outreach with renewed hope. Then again, perhaps not. Perhaps you struggle with deeply ingrained discouragement, worn in by countless cycles of disappointment; prayer meeting in the morning and empty seats in the evening. The ‘day of small things’ strikes again.
Perhaps the idea of cultivating optimism feels too close to escapism or the power of positive thinking. Expectancy sounds unrealistic. Perhaps we have wearily surrendered to ‘the Christian’s chief occupational hazards’, as John Stott put it, ‘depression and discouragement.’
Yet there is another ‘perhaps’ buried deep in the lore of Israel’s kings that we would do well to bring to mind. Prince Jonathan slips quietly out of Israel’s camp, a place besieged by fear and haunted by failure. Sword in hand, a faithful friend at his back, he strikes out towards the enemy and whispers three precious words: ‘Perhaps the LORD.’
Perhaps the LORD will act on our behalf. Nothing can hinder the LORD from saving’ (1 Sam. 14:6).
It is those first three words we should carry into our praying, planning, and hoping for this season. Three words pregnant with expectation. Released from paralysis by a profoundly realistic confidence in God, Jonathan sees something deeper than scant resources or the scars of past defeat. He sees the LORD, enthroned in power and covenant faithfulness, and ventures a courageous ‘perhaps’.
When we hear this call to expectant action, our hearts often fail to find the balance of the way of Jonathan. Some of us slip down one cliff into a pious paralysis that says, ‘God will do the saving, so our efforts don’t matter much.’ Fatalism shrinks our ambitions for him, and ‘perhaps’ fades meekly away. The other cliff is an anxious activism, filling up on podcasted advice as we pin our hopes on techniques and technologies. We lose all sight of the LORD as we chase a man-made ‘perhaps’. Jonathan teaches us the remarkable balance of Christian optimism; unshakeable security in the LORD’s goodness and power, that frees us to risk everything and spring forward with conviction.
How might we exercise expectant optimism this Christmas and beyond?
Courageous invitation
Taking hold of Jonathan’s God in prayer, we step out and speak. Take a deep breath and ask the question that could alter someone’s eternity. Would you like to come to church with me? How about we meet for coffee and read the Bible together? Would you like to follow Jesus? We might be surprised to hear more yes’s than we could handle.
Perhaps we could go back to basics. The most effective ‘evangelism strategy’ we’ve experienced in the last few years is simply reading the Bible with those who are seeking. Start as you mean to go on, and evangelism flows into discipleship in the most natural way. You could start with Mark’s Gospel. Read it together, and ask a few simple questions: What stands out to you? What do you learn about Jesus? What are you going to do about that? Pray and expect the Spirit to be at work.
Sacrificial welcome
What do we do if someone starts coming to church? Have you ever sat through a service with an unbelieving friend at your side? It can be excruciating. The weight of unexplained jargon and unspoken expectations can be overwhelming. Embarrassment and confusion can bury curiosity. There are plenty of things that are gloriously strange about Christian community and teaching, but we must speak and act in a way that is accessible and welcoming to newcomers. How could we cultivate a sacrificial willingness to include new people? How can we speak and act in such a way that people leave a gathering thinking, ‘I wish I had brought my friend today, they would have really benefitted from that’? That is not just a challenge for preachers, but for everyone who reads notices, welcomes at the door, pours tea, or simply sits down in a seat. Someone sitting alone is an emergency, so we should celebrate the sanctified rudeness of breaking off conversation with a friend mid-flow to go and welcome them.
When a newborn arrives in a household, mountains are moved to accommodate and nurture that little life. How much more so in the household of God when we’re entrusted with precious new spiritual life?
Committed encouragement
Courage leaks easily, so find a Barnabas and be a Barnabas. Jonathan didn’t venture out alone. His faithful armour-bearer fought at his back and encouraged him to, ‘Do all that you have in mind… I am with you body and soul.’ Do you have a Barnabas like that? Could you give yourself like that to someone whose vision outruns yours? Are you in the habit of fanning into flame the ‘great expectations’ of others, or more prone to pour cold water on them?
One last thought. Jonathan stepped out of his tent to attempt great things for the Lord. We must be willing to go to the lost and not simply wait for them to come to us. Would you commit to being such a meaningful part of your community’s life that you’ll be there to weep and rejoice, to listen and answer, to be ready to see their seeking and respond with loving courage. Perhaps the LORD will act on our behalf. Nothing can hinder the LORD from saving.
