We are currently in the Hebrew month of Elul. Much like the tradition of observing Lent, this season before the Jewish high holy days is a period of reflection or Teshuvah. Teshuvah means turning back to God. Almost every day for forty days, Jews use a ram’s horn trumpet called a shofar. The blast from the horn calls the communities that hear them, like an invitation to return to God and prepare for the most sacred days. The Feast of the Trumpets (or Shouting) comes on the first day of the following month. It is the only feast that is given without any explicit purpose. He simply says show up and make a lot of noise by blowing the shofar and shouting. In Leviticus 23:23-25, God says it is a memorial, which otherwise interpreted is a reminder. But a reminder of what? It is believed that this is a picture of the Second Coming of God as pictured in 1 Thessalonians 4:16. Can it be that this day is also a memorial of the shouting of the people begging God to hear them in their suffering? Is it a reminder of Immanuel—God with us—coming to our rescue? Is this a memorial of Jesus standing at the door and knocking on the hearts of a hardened world as He promises His redemption? Is it a celebration of shouting victory and triumph over The Accuser as we announce our King?
During this season in my small group, we have been walking through the book of James. It is here, among my brothers and sisters that I heard the shofar in my own life. It was uncomfortable to be so wrong, but I was given much grace, not just from God but from each of them. Every chapter was a trumpet of God calling me to return to Him answered by a shout of my grieving soul. As I look back on the past year, I see great triumphs and incredible failures alike. But through it all I see the incredible presence of God and His gospel news of reconciliation and liberation from sin. It was not enough for Him to just write it down in a book for me to find; he gave me tangible testaments in my siblings that he adopted just like me—a rag tag bunch of worthless sinners he buried with his first son. Kind of a morbid adoption story, but sin is messy and so is the solution. But, like Jesus, he did not leave us dead.
Romans 6: 5-7 states, “For if we have been united with him in the likeness of his death, we will certainly also be in the likeness of his resurrection. For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be rendered powerless so that we may no longer be enslaved to sin, since a person who has died is freed from sin.” But how is this possible that He took dead things and made them brand new? Why are we now beautiful and holy as part of the royal family of the universe?
The single most important day in the Hebrew year is the Day of Atonement. It is the promised sign displayed for millennia. It was on this day every year a sacrifice was made for the people whose sin separated them from God. But unlike the Hebrews, we today have the final atonement through Jesus. He made the temporary picture permanent. One perfect sacrifice was needed. The moment he died, the curtain that separated the Holy of Holies in the temple from the outside world was ripped from top to bottom. This was a sign to the people who hated him that God had forgiven them and was inviting them into his presence. His son’s body wasn’t even cold yet and still he invited them to eat from his table as friends. He came to this world as a person, he got right into the middle of our mess and he loved us enough to die.
But God did not stop there. He no longer stands at the door knocking on my heart; He is in my living room reminding me he is still here. His spirit is giving me encouragement from the inside. I could not save my life then and I certainly cannot fix my own life now. He literally owns my iniquity—my failures and shortcomings. I do not have to get right with God when he blasts the trumpets to get my attention, I just come home. I do not have to beg; he runs to me like the Prodigal son’s father. I do not have to do x, y, or z to try to make things right. That just is not my job. That was all done by Jesus. He paid the price so that God is never disappointed in me; He is never surprised when I cannot do it on my own, he never stops picking me up after I crash and burn. That is the gospel, the good news! He is pleased with me, not because of what I do, but because of what He has done.
– Liam Wheeler
09/15/2020