The Saturate Podcast

  At the center of the angel’s announcement on the first Christmas night is this phrase found in Luke 2:14; it’s what Linus quotes at the end of A Charlie Brown Christmas: “Glory to God in the Highest, and peace on earth towards men.” “Peace on earth” sounds so trite that most of us would rather ignore it. What kind of peace? Who’s peace? And for those that experience the pain of this world in real-time, the promise of peace on earth, even from the voice of angels, seems void on arrival. U2’s song, “Peace on Earth,” released at the turn of the century, they put words to what I often feel. The lyrics go in part like this: Heaven on earth We need it now I'm sick of all of this Hanging around Sick of sorrow Sick of pain Sick of hearing again and again That there's gonna be Peace on earth   No who’s or why’s No-one cries like a mother cries For peace on earth She never got to say goodbye To see the color in his eyes Now he's in the dirt Peace on earth   They're reading names out over the radio All the folks the rest of us won't get to know Sean and Julia, Gareth, Ann and Brenda Their lives are bigger than any big idea   Jesus, can you take the time To throw a drowning man a line? Peace on earth To tell the ones who hear no sound Whose sons are living in the ground Peace on earth Jesus, in the song you wrote The words are sticking in my throat Peace on earth Hear it every Christmas time But hope and history won't rhyme So what's it worth? This peace on earth   These questions - What’s it worth, and what is this peace on earth? - I believe, are the questions of this cultural moment. They aren’t intellectual; they’re visceral. They’re emotional. Does Jesus make a difference on this earth? Does heaven touch earth? Will anything stop peace? Most of my neighbors and friends are, like Bono, tired of hearing about it every Christmas time. Sick of sorrow. Sick of pain. Sick of not knowing what to say to those whose sons are in the ground. So, what do the angels mean when they sing, “Glory to God in the Highest and peace on earth to men?” What is it worth? I think most people answer this question in three ways: Is Peace an Absence of War? Peace in this concept is no more war, battle, shooting, weapons. It is a cessation of conflict between nations that create violence. Essentially, we just all get along. We put our weapons down and cable news channels go out of business. This is found in the Bible throughout the Old Testament. We even read in a previous reflection about the lions eating alongside cows. Elsewhere we hear of weapons for death turned into gardening tools. The nations of the earth ending their wars with one another is part of peace on earth. The child born in Bethlehem will bring about an end to wars. But that’s not all this peace on earth is worth. Jesus doesn’t establish a United Nations, NATO, or a peace won through the principle of mutual annihilation. Honestly, most of us would settle for that value of peace on earth. Is Peace an Absence of Conflict with Each Other? Christmas and the internal sentimental demands create the perfect environment, not for peace, but for conflict. Spouses disparage each other’s abilities to decorate cookies, presents drain the bank account, and stress grows as you consider the bubbling family disunity that will be on display as you gather at your parent’s house. Does the peace on earth the angels announce vanquish the relational unrest? These micro-battles between persons are as self-evident as geopolitical ones. Does the arrival of Jesus throw us a line in re...

    Christmas can be a time of lights, trees, parties, and decadent food, but it is definitely a season of grief and sadness. For some, it’s the grief of a lost childhood; the holidays remind us of all the brokenness our young lives were immersed in. For many, Christmas is a strong reminder of the death of a spouse, parent, or child. Christmas was the last time my wife spoke with her mother. Throughout these first days, we’ve looked back at God’s faithfulness in fulfilling every promise of hope He gave His children concerning Jesus. The first prophets boldly proclaimed God’s coming amidst vast consumerism, greed, and a society that seemed “well off”. Then, in later years, prophets declared this hope amidst a broken society, exile, and confusion. As the people grieved the loss of everything, the prophets said things like, “Prepare the way of the Lord! The Lord will gather his people! The King will come and rule with justice and all will be made right.” The Psalmists also wrote in the same time, however, “The Lord watches over us!” Accompanying Hope Advent is a moment that pushes us into this odd kind of mourning—a mourning with hope. Grief or mourning described in the Scriptures challenges our notions of grief. It isn’t a Hemingway-esq burying of all emotions and denial of pain. It isn’t a journey to “getting over it” or moving on. On the other hand, it’s not a constant groveling in that pain either. Often, we’re prone to make our grief the central thing about ourselves and the central thing about God. We belittle people’s attempts to speak words of life, encouragement, or truth. The Scriptures don’t tell us how to grieve, but they tell us what we possess in our grief. The Bible tells us of the accompanying presence of hope. Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 (NLT): Dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring back with him the believers who have died. And then in 1 Peter 1:3-6 (NIV): Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. The incarnation of God in Jesus guarantees hope as a possession in every trial and at the foot of every grave of every fallen saint. The core of your mourning contains a lasting hope in Christ’s arrival, His death, His resurrection, and His return. This hope doesn’t expel weeping, often it welcomes it.   When you are informed, as Paul says, of the hope of Christ, or when you’ve received the inheritance of hope, as Peter describes, you see the world more clearly. You see the fractured marriages, you see the pain of loneliness, the injustice of poverty, the horror of war, and all of creation itself cracking under the weight of pressure of human sin. You see those things, knowing this is not how Jesus intended His world to be. You also see those things and know that, through the sacrifice of Christ’s life and in the great wealth of His love, all of this will be made new. I invite you to spend time reflecting on this question: What hope does this Christ-Child Almighty God bring you? Where do you need that hope?

    “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,     though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me     one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old,     from ancient times.” Therefore Israel will be abandoned     until the time when she who is in labor bears a son, and the rest of his brothers return     to join the Israelites. He will stand and shepherd his flock     in the strength of the Lord,     in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. And they will live securely, for then his greatness     will reach to the ends of the earth. Micah 5:2-4 Yesterday, we talked about the glorious arrival of God. Here is the mystery of a God who comes in awe and might to conquer all sin, death, and evil in the birth of a baby…born like you and me. Mary experienced the cursed birth pains as she delivered the Son who would set all free from the penalty of sin. Jesus was born like you and me, amidst chaos. In the moments after His birth, He had to be cleaned and swaddled. In the coming days, He had to learn to receive nourishment from His mother through breastfeeding. He had diapers that needed to be changed. He likely fell asleep tied to His parents as they walked home. The One who would walk on water had to learn to walk like the rest of us, stumbling, crawling, and clinging to our father’s pinkies. Jesus was a vulnerable, dependent child. The phrase of the angels, “born this day”, must alarm the senses when we allow it to sink in—Savior in a swaddle. One of my favorite authors and the original “ragamuffin,” Brennan Manning, writes this about the mystery and our response: Pious imagination and nostalgic music rob Christmas of its shock value, while some scholars reduce the crib to a tame theological symbol. But the [humble and needy] at the stable tremble in adoration of the Christ-child and quake at the inbreak of God Almighty. Because all the Santa Clauses and red-nosed reindeer, fifty-foot trees and thundering church bells put together create less pandemonium than the infant Jesus when, instead of remaining a statute in the crib, he comes alive and delivers us over the life that he came to light. We hope in a Child. We hope a helpless baby can restore all things, even us. God plans with purpose, from centuries past, for this child to overcome the world. Do We Reflect Our Savior’s Humility and Power in Our Lives? In Acts 2, we find ordinary people sharing meals in homes while surrounded by “signs and wonders”. In 1 Timothy, Paul commends us to “live such quiet and simple lives among the gentiles”. In Peter’s eloquent passage on suffering and serving Christ in his first letter, he quickly adds, “But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” The incarnation of humble hope in Jesus calls us into a life of humility and hope, too. As Christ came into our world, so should we enter our neighborhoods living ordinary lives with an extraordinary hope. Would your neighbors observe a humble people with a quiet strength? Would they see people marked by the humble and awe-inspiring arrival of the King of glory? Or, which is often the case, would they find frantic Christians coming to and from their house living a busy life at a church building? Does your life demonstrate a Good News which comes in the form of a dependent baby and a mighty King? .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_content button { background-color: #c75145 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_15 .et_bloom_form_content .

  Go on up to a high mountain,     O Zion, herald of good news; lift up your voice with strength,     O Jerusalem, herald of good news;     lift it up, fear not; say to the cities of Judah,     “Behold your God!”  Behold, the Lord God comes with might,     and his arm rules for him; behold, his reward is with him,     and his recompense before him. He will tend his flock like a shepherd;     he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom,     and gently lead those that are with young. Isaiah 40:9-11 When I was a kid, the #1 soccer player in the world was a handsome, Portuguese man named Luis Figo. If you remember him on the soccer field, you’re privileged. The way he passed, the way he ran, the way he shot the ball, was poetry. His #7 jersey flew off the racks in my hometown of Lisbon. He played for Real Madrid, the greatest and biggest soccer club in the world. Figo was transcendent. During spring break, my junior year of high school, I went on a choir tour across Europe in a big touring bus. We made a pit stop off the highway in Madrid on our way home. As my friends and I were buying candy and soda, the transcendent became imminent. Figo was pumping gas like a demigod while his super-model wife sat in the passenger seat. Our lives stopped as he came into the shop to pay his bill. Figo, the Portuguese patron saint of the people, was greeted by dozens of high school kids from his hometown. Some of us shouted. Some of us took pictures. Some of us were wearing his jersey and got autographs. Some of us were captivated by awe. We called our parents. We told all of our friends who missed the whole thing because they were asleep on the bus. It was, without exaggeration, the event of my high school years, standing in the same candy aisle as an icon, getting change from the same cashier (maybe our change was the same money he had!), hearing and feeling the energy of his fame, his worth, his power. His Arrival This is how Jesus comes into our world. Isaiah 40:9-11 is the call to receive Him on those terms. “Behold, the Lord comes!” The words of great news: “Behold he comes with might! His arm rules!” Jesus comes with might. This passage makes it clear; prepare to be afraid. Now, you might be thinking, “That sounds scary! Jesus doesn’t enter the world as a powerful King ready to make judgment and to rule. Doesn’t He actually come as a cute baby born in a birth story worthy of the entire blogosphere?” In the incarnation, God’s transcendent power becomes imminent power. The extraordinary receives ordinary swaddling cloths. But don’t be fooled. He arrives as King. Jesus isn’t born weak, but mighty. The otherness of God doesn’t disappear but comes close. He walks into the world—our world. Our mundane tasks are enveloped in His presence. Now, this is fundamental; the glory of Christ’s incarnation is good news. The weight and power of darkness is not too much for Jesus. The sinister shame of sin is not too much for Jesus. The powers of this world and all its injustice is not too much for Jesus. He is the greatest and He will be victorious. His fame is above all others. His worth exceeds them all. His might, judgment, and will overcomes this decaying world. You’re right. That’s scary. God’s transcendent power becomes imminent power. How do we respond to this incarnation? 1) We Herald the Good News of the King Christmas creates missionaries. “Go up, stand up, lift up your voice,” Isaiah says. Be strong and bold and tell the cities, “Behold, your God!” We shout the news of a Savior who can and who will save. We become highway signs pointing to the One who comes.

  As I mentioned previously, our family always cuts down a Christmas tree. Each year, we leave a stump in the ground—something that was once growing is now dead. Stumps in Oregon are a part of life. In fact Portland was built on the foundation of stumps. Bare hillsides in Oregon, where the forestry department utilizes a strategic plan for deforestation, make for haunting drives as you imagine the density and life that once filled skies and cast long shadows. The stumps whisper the story of life gone by, not the story of life to come. Yet, one prominent image of Advent is the stump. The stump, where you’ve been cut down. The stump, where you’re soul has gone quiet. The stump, where you’ve been destroyed. The stump is that tangible picture in everyday life that the world is not thriving but decaying. What are the stumps in your daily life? What are those visible images of sin, death, and evil? A Person Isaiah 11:1-10 says, get ready for the fruitful branch that will come from the stump. Read Isaiah 11:1-10. Out of death, there’s hope and it’s a Person. Yes, out of the stump will come a shoot, a frail glimmer of life that will become a branch that will then bear fruit. Then, verse 2, Isaiah says: Him. The Spirit will rest on Him. From the ground of death will come a Person. A Person who will make things right. He will be wise and judge. He will see. He will decide. He will make peace out of war. Out of the stump will come fruit. When He comes, death will be turned to life. He will rule and be in charge. Finally! There will be someone to care. Not only that. Isaiah goes on to describe the most bizarre picture of world peace! With the near naïveté of a beauty pageant contestant, Isaiah promises the shoot from the stump will make wolves sleep with lambs, calves snuggle with lions. Children leading the parade! Cows and bears together. The hunted and the hunter living at peace. The world no longer at odds.   Longing for Hope While this passage speaks a message of great hope and sits in the pantheon of must-quote Christmas passages, I find many Christians bored with it. It doesn’t do anything for them. If anything, it doesn’t describe a life longed for in Jesus, but a life already received through the power of the holy supermarket, the wisdom of Wall Street, the counsel of consumerism, and knowledge and fear of the other. In fact, I frequently encounter Christians that have little use for the coming Kingdom of God. It unnerves them to imagine this world making way for the world of Jesus. Perhaps you are such a Christian. You, with the help of a few others, have already built a peaceful kingdom. You hope things stay the same. If God wants to add a cherry on top, so be it, especially if it comes in the package you envision. So long as it fits the decorative tastes of your kingdom. The hope described in the Bible feels like a luxury for the put-together, the self-sufficient, the safe, the secure, and the stable. Hope for the independently secure is like fine jewelry to wear around the house. It’s like the orange put in your stocking on Christmas morning. It’s a nice accent piece for an already secure life. Is the hope of Christ’s coming as a garnish? To a person who lives in chaos, who breathes in the atmosphere of injustice, who tarries in the tyranny of trauma: hope is currency. Hope that injustice will become justice. Hope that death will become life. Hope that war will become peace. Hope that wounds will become wholeness. Hope for Christ’s coming, for the needy, is the foundation of life. Isaiah 11:1-10 is that kind of hope. But it isn’t generic, blind hope. Its focus is on a King who is coming to bring justice. To make wrong things right. Sick things healthy. Outsiders insiders. Are you longing for hope? See,

    “Jesus came into Galilee” is offered as hope, the first hope. After centuries of silence, of struggle, and continued sin, the resignation of the people was, “No one is coming.” And yet, Jesus came into Galilee. “No-one-is-coming” is over, replaced forever with, “Jesus came.” These words cannot be ignored. In fact, the whole of the Christian faith is bound by these words. Rescue has come. Jesus came into Galilee and His arrival itself was good news. A man named Jesus, which means Savior from the sins of the world, walked into the real world. Willingly came. Joyfully Entered. Arrived. Savior. Incarnation. Incarnation is the first miracle of the gospel. It isn’t the turning of water into wine, the cleansing of lepers, or, for our more tightly wound friends, the preaching with authority. No, all those things are symptoms of this inciting miracle of God taking on flesh and living among us. The Apostle Paul writes saying the fullness of God was pleased to dwell in Him. John says that He was the message and the message took on flesh. Luke tells us of shepherds while Matthew speaks of wise men. Mark, in almost Hemingway minimalism says, “Jesus came into Galilee.” God arrives with a body, with a hometown, with a voice, and with a name. What's in a Name A whiteboard came into our living room as the decision-maker, the name-maker. With friends and family, it guided us through the work of “educated” people. Brainstorming led us to the name of our first child, Norah Rocha Watson. Norah, a Celtic name meaning ray of light and compassion, acknowledged my spiritual mentorship, albeit through books, under St. Patrick. Rocha and Watson, rooted this new child in her family and union of marriage from her mother and me. Maitê Rocha Watson’s name arrived from the power of God’s grace and love poured into our marriage through a year of marriage counseling. Maitê means beloved and when we say her name, we’re reminded that we are the beloved children of God. Our last child, a boy, received the name Truman Salvador Watson. When we say his name, we pray he we grow up into a true man of God, finding his masculinity as son of God. Salvador is the city that buried his grandmother. We also named him that to remind us and him of the Savior. In Jesus, salvation has a name. There’s no more out-of-place name in our world today than Jesus. While “God” is as stylish as ever, gracing the platforms of political speeches, patriotic songs, and the thank you’s of award ceremonies, the particularity of God with a name is confrontational. Outside the confines of church buildings and community groups, His name sounds forced, confrontational, and even simplistic. But, there’s a lot in a name. Jesus, we learn and see in Matthew’s gospel, wasn’t plucked out of a baby name book, summoned from Joseph or Mary’s family trees, or a result of a brainstorm. He shall be called Jesus, the Lord will save His people from their sin. His name is out of fashion because it, in part, makes a claim our minds find hard to digest: we have a problem with sin and we need saving. His name disrupts our understanding of self-fulfillment and self-sufficiency. Cornelious Plantinga writes this well in his breviary of sin, Not The Way it’s Supposed to Be. “Our world has been vandalized by sin. We’ve perverted, polluted, and disintegrated God’s shalom and our shalom.” Sin is a perversion of humanity. Every sin committed twists your soul and the soul of others. Short words, middle fingers, constant consumption, jealousy, greed, and selfishness all pervert the souls of men and women. Furthermore, sin pollutes. Sin is an oil-spill on the Great Barrier Reef of humanity.   All that God intended of the world, shalom, has been marred by human sin.

    On a December morning in Newtown, Connecticut in 2012, children and teachers were likely gearing up for a day filled with gluing cotton balls onto Santa beards when a 20-year-old man came into the school shooting and killing 20 children between the ages of six and seven. Six adults were also killed. There should be a bigger and weightier word than “tragedy,” but I can’t find one. In the days and even years following the murder and death of 27 humans, we focused on mental health: how has the human brain and emotions gotten so perverted? It also focused on guns: how did humanity create such efficient, cold, and callous tools for death? I remember talking about safety: why can’t we protect our most young? What happened was death. It was evil. It was sin. And while for many of us in America it was a shock to our system, this was also just another news story in the grand scheme of genocide, greed, war, abuse, assault, murder, and terror. This is our world. One of the reasons I love the Bible is not just it’s beauty and purpose, but also its realism; the story of the world is not right. The reason I’ve given so much of my life to reading the Bible is because it also offers the story of what will make the world right, new, and beautiful. Strangely, Advent takes us into both the broken and the hope. The Story of Advent One of the best Advent passages is found in Genesis 15:1-6. There’s a great one in Deuteronomy 18:15-19, and still another inspiring one in Psalm 89:1-4. But, before we get into those, let's go to the first one: Genesis 2:1 — 3:15 and work our way back. Genesis 2 is the arrival of the world with humans. What a thought. The beginning of humanity. Genesis 2 describes the perfect garden for humans to thrive. There are rivers and trees and animals. And God (like a potter) forms man, breathing into the nostrils, life. Imagine that! God so close in creation that He put His breath in him and that breath creates life. Humanity doesn’t exist apart from God’s intimate presence and generosity. God walks with the Adam in the cool of the day, in rest and in labor. Then creates for Adam human relationship. Human companionship. When Adam sees Eve, he says: “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.” Believe it or not, this the beginning of the Advent Story. Next, Adam and Eve rebel against the living God who breathed life into them. The Maker and Sustainer of their entire universe. The Serpent came and asked: “Did God really say if you eat it you will become like God? He doesn’t want that.” Then eating the fruit of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, they knew shame, hiding, and guilt. But, God comes to them. He calls to them. He asks for them. This is the second act of Advent; God came to humanity (even in the early pages of this story), seeking the ones He loved. He also comes explaining justice—the brokenness of shame, guilt, and striving to be god will result in catastrophic relationships, work, birth, environment, futility, and separation from the source of Life. In this second act, God seeks the people He formed to be His image and declares the reality of rebellion away from Him: a life of death. He informs them of a different world, a world we inhabit today. But in the midst of that curse, God gives a promise: a Child or Seed from Eve will oppose and do battle with Evil—with the Serpent. The Serpent will be destroyed, but it will cost the life of this Heir of Adam and Eve. One day, a child of Eve will crush the Serpent and be bruised. The promise of redemption and restoration one day. This is the third act of Advent: Promise. Hope. This is the one we often inhabit, of God’s plan to re-create the world. God’s promise to send a Savior. There are many promises. In Genesis 15,

    Christmas is a magical time for kids as they see the glow of lights, trees in the home, and packages accumulate. It’s also the season when we get to regularly articulate the meaning and nature of God coming to us to save us. This, to my four-year-old, is the most astonishing of questions: “Why did God have to come, anyway?” Why did God have to come? To deal with sin for the sake of resurrecting our lives from the dead. The nativity narrative makes major claims that cannot be ignored: the world is not right—we are not right. Cornelious Plantinga writes this well in his breviary of sin, Not The Way it’s Supposed to Be. “Our world has been vandalized by sin. We’ve perverted, polluted, and disintegrated God’s shalom and our shalom.” All that God intended of the world, shalom, has been marred by human sin. The consequences are devastatingly final: death. See, the meaning of the season is not only Jesus’ birth, but the purpose for His birth. The manger is not the setting of a peaceful and gentle gift from God to a cozy world. The cradle is occupied by Christ because our world is at odds with Christ. The birth of Jesus ought to shock us as much as the flood of Noah. God has entered the world to see it judged, reconciled, and saved. When the Angels sing: Joy to the Lord, the Savior’s come. The Angels are saying, “The World is in need of a savior!” We are in need of judgement for sin, reconciliation for the effect of sin, and salvation from the result of sin. Christ’s first coming is the introduction to His great passion for the world. It’s the beginning of His death and resurrection. Jesus was born on death row for our sake. Why Did God Choose to Come? The last deeply spiritual question children ask in their curiosity is this: Why? Why did God choose to come? Jesus offers the Church today the full meaning of the Christmas season through the often forgotten Christmas verse: “God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only son.” John 3:16 (NLT) This is our family’s verse during Advent. Each month, thanks to Mirela’s intentional motherly eye, we try to memorize a verse while we eat dinner. We’re able to work on the verse about 50% of the time (the rest of the time is filled with spills, screams, and lots of loud singing from our three kids—many of our meals feel like they’re straight out of the garbage crushing scene in Star Wars). We aren’t heroes, and honestly, we’re pretty great parents even when we don’t do the Bible verse. Back to our Bible verse for Advent, John 3:16. While John 3:16a feels cliché because of our over-familiarity, it’s far from trite. It’s history-shattering truth. Our children have successfully memorized the first half, and this alone is hard to grasp. God exists. God loves. He loves the world. The world is the object of God’s love. In John’s writing, “the world” speaks to forces, powers, attitudes, and beliefs that are in complete opposition to God and His ways. This verse says the Creator of the universe loves the world opposed to Him. That’s not all; God loves the world so much. God loved the world lavishly, overwhelmingly, or wastefully. I told my children to remember how Will Farrel’s Elf pours generous, overflowing amounts of syrup on each meal. This is how God pours His love out to the world. The second half of this verse explains Christmas. God gave. He wasn’t under compulsion by legal requirements or drama. He freely and lovingly gave His Son. The gift of the Child of Bethlehem is the tangible love of God into a world that didn’t deserve to receive such a gift. Our two-year-old always stresses SO MUCH. It’s part shout and part laugh. Her reciting the verse is 100% joy. Even in her youth,

    Christmas Tree Hunting In the early days of Advent, we drive out to the Beck family farm to cut down a Christmas tree. Our only rule is it must be shorter than “Mom” so it will fit in our house. This rule is always disappointing, especially as you walk around towering and beautiful trees. Instead of those giants, we pick a tree that only slightly dwarfs Charlie Brown’s. And yet, once we bring the tree into our house, we realize it’s too big. There isn’t room. We have to move furniture, change our seating arrangements, and move lamps out of the living room. It inconveniences everything. It disrupts our feng shui. Our children clamor to decorate it as fast as possible, placing all the ornaments on the bottom half of our tree. The whole, lovely experience involves getting muddy, dirtying our car, moving furniture, pulling boxes out of the basement, and attempts at teaching a five-year-old the aesthetic of a balanced Christmas tree. This is one of my favorite moments. It’s the moment we prepare room in our house for the Christmas season. It’s the moment we make our house ready for the ongoing celebration that is full of expectation of God’s arrival.  This physical discipline and family moment is an outward expression of what takes place within us. You are a Disciple and Worshipper of God Advent is a fresh invitation from God to prepare room in our hearts, minds, souls, and bodies to worship Him. This is the call to worship we hear as we sing in Joy to the World: “Let every heart, prepare him room.” This is not merely a missional call toward the world but it is a call to each other and ourselves in community. Many leaders and missional communities forget we are welcomed into a life of enjoying God, knowing His love, and experiencing His presence in our lives. We forget that we are God’s mission and on God’s mission. You and your community were created to live the gospel in unity with God. To taste the grace of God through repentance and faith. To worship God through confession. To know the depth of God’s love by listening to God. Christopher Friedrich Blumhardt notes the discipline we undertake of preparing room and searching for God’s work today…even in the ordinary. "One does not always have to wait for something out of the ordinary. The all-important thing is to keep your eyes on what comes from God and to make way for it to come into being here on the earth. If you always try to be heavenly and spiritually minded, you won’t understand the everyday work God has for you to do. But if you embrace what is to come from God, if you live for Christ’s coming in practical life, you will learn that divine things can be experienced here and now." This requires an intentional focus, just like the welcoming of a Christmas tree into your living room. How will you prepare room in your heart? How will you look for God’s presence? How will you turn your ear to hearing His voice? .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_16 .et_bloom_form_content { background-color: #3b3b3b !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_16 .et_bloom_form_container .et_bloom_form_header { background-color: #2ad4c0 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_16 .et_bloom_form_content button { background-color: #2ad4c0 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_16 .et_bloom_form_content .et_bloom_fields i { color: #2ad4c0 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_16 .et_bloom_form_content .et_bloom_custom_field_radio i:before { background: #2ad4c0 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_16 .et_bloom_form_content button { background-color: #2ad4c0 !important; } .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_16 .et_bloom_form_container h2, .et_bloom .et_bloom_optin_16 .et_bloom_form_container h2 span, .

We have a new resource for kids, families, communities, and churches. I'm very excited about it. This children's resource began as a simple guide for missional communities at Bread&Wine, a Soma Church in Portland, Oregon in 2009, during my first year as a member of that church planting team. At the time we had a quickly multiplying group of missional communities that included children of all ages and stages. As we grew in making disciples in that city our conviction grew about the need to equip the next generation for the mission and life in the church. We created Gospel Basics for Kids to be a robust gospel-centered and missional curriculum that could be used in any situation. We designed it to be relational, story-based, and equipping because we believe the good news about Jesus is good news for everyone and every age. Over the years, that simple guide has grown and improved with the work of many in the Soma Family and Saturate world to now include original songs, leader preparation guides, and original illustrations. This is one of our most beautiful resources, yet! I hope you'll enjoy it. Gospel Basics for Kids helps form children into disciples of Jesus who can make disciples of Jesus. If we are to see our children living out their identities as children of God, disciples, missionaries, and servants, they need the same gospel truths that transform us. Gospel Basics for Kids is a 14-week curriculum journey that engages children's understanding of the gospel, belief in the gospel, and living the gospel in their daily lives. Applicable for families, communities, and churches, this story-based approach roots children in the essentials of the gospel and the implications of the gospel in every aspect of life. There's a lot we're excited about that accompanies this great resource: * A leadership preparation guide for each week that helps adults engage the content for their own lives before they lead the kids. * Beautiful illustrations, coloring sheets, activities, and crafts to help kids deepen their understanding of the gospel. * Conversation guides that help adults discuss the deep truths of Jesus with every child. * Tips, songs, videos, and more for teachers and kids alike.

In this episode of the Saturate Podcast, Brad Watson and Jeff Vanderstelt talk about the tension many believers face: they want to see the way they're being discipled and discipling others transformed into what they see in the Bible (or read in Saturate). They're convicted. They're bought in. But, it's hard to know what to do. The reality is, being convicted and repentant, they're on a journey of making a micro and macro shifts over the course of time.      

In this episode of the Saturate Podcast, Brad Watson and Jared Pickney talk about the importance of developing an intentional plan for developing people throughout every area of church life. They give examples, share important things to consider, and encourage leaders in practicing a long obedience in the same direction. Here's the file Jared talks about throughout the episode.  

In this episode of the Saturate Podcast, Brad Watson talks with poet and apparel designer, Preston Perry, about loving people of different faiths and speaking the truth with boldness and grace. Check his work out on his YouTube channel: BoldTV.    

In this episode of the Saturate Podcast, Brad Watson talks with Saturate Managing Director, Amy Lathrop about being an introvert in a missional community. They discuss the power, potential, and necessity of having all perspectives and personalities in a missional community.    

In this episode of the Saturate Podcast, Brad Watson talks with Jonathan Dodson about the person of the Holy Spirit, who He is, and what it means to live a life transformed by him. What if the Church was awakened to know the presence of the Spirit in us? Get Jonathan's new book, Here in Spirit.