Today is the third Sunday of Advent. This morning we light the pink candle, known as the joy candle or the shepherd's candle. Throughout Scripture, the theme of shepherding runs from Genesis to Revelation. Though shepherds carried a poor reputation as dirty and uneducated, God identifies Himself as a shepherd—most famously in Psalm 23. Like a shepherd to his sheep, God sacrifices for His people, provides them with His presence, and guides them through life.
It's fitting, then, that God chose shepherds to be the first to hear about Christ's birth. The announcement given by angels was a message of joy. For the child born as a sign to those first-century shepherds was the fulfillment of a thousand years of prophecy—the good shepherd who would sacrifice Himself for others through the cross, provide for them through His presence, and guide believers through the Holy Spirit.
In the late 1920s and early 1930s, the famous playwright Tennessee Williams wrote a short story called "Something by Tolstoy." Though written then, it wasn't published until 1994 in his Collected Stories, about ten years after Williams' death.
The story centers on a man named Jacob, married to his childhood sweetheart—a vivacious French woman named Lila. When Jacob's father dies, he inherits a bookstore. But Lila doesn't want to be just a bookstore owner's wife. She has bigger ambitions. One day, she tells Jacob she's leaving to join a vaudeville group traveling around Europe.
Jacob is heartbroken. He begs her not to go. To show his love and keep the door open, he gives her the key to the bookstore's front door.
Over the next fifteen years, Jacob pours all his sorrow into the bookstore. He uses the stories on the shelves to soothe his soul, becoming a recluse who reads all day. Whenever the little bell tinkles and someone walks in, he looks up, hoping to see Lila. Instead, it's always a customer. His greeting slowly becomes a monotone: "Do you want a book?"
On Christmas Eve, after fifteen years, the door bell jingles. A beautiful woman walks in.
Jacob looks up: "Do you want a book?"
The woman looks at him: "Jacob, it's me. Lila."
He looks confused.
"You don't remember me? We were childhood sweethearts. We got married. And then I abandoned you. But now I'm back."
Jacob stares at her: "I think I've heard this story before. Perhaps something by Tolstoy?"
He walks to the section where the Tolstoy novels are kept. Lila is absolutely heartbroken that her husband no longer remembers her. She sets the key down on the desk and walks out.
Many preachers have used this story to illustrate a spiritual truth. In John chapter 1, we learned that God created humans. Yet when Jesus came into the bookstore of life, we didn't recognize Him.
But thankfully, instead of setting the key down and letting us go through life on our own, Jesus remained—with the hope and goal of restoring us back to God.
That's what we're exploring today in this third week of Advent: Jesus came to restore our understanding of God, our state before God, and our relationship with God.
Here at Riverwood, we have a core conviction: Jesus came to restore all that was broken.
If you go back to Genesis, you'll see that when God created everything, it was all good, all perfect—including humanity. But in Genesis 3, when Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit, it caused a breaking of all things:
We believe that Jesus—the whole mission and work of Jesus—is God's response to that breaking in Genesis 3. Jesus came to restore all of those things.
Our main passage today is John 1:10-16. Let's start with verses 10-11:
"He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him."
We looked at these verses briefly last week. Let's go deeper. Two weeks ago, we saw how all things were made through Christ. When we read Genesis 1 and see the creation of the world, that's actually being done by Jesus, through Jesus. He's the creator of all things.
Yet even though all things were made through Him, the world did not know Him.
We were like Jacob in the bookstore—we didn't recognize our own wife. We didn't recognize our Creator when He walked into the place.
Before we can see other things restored—our relationship with our bodies, with one another, with the earth—we must start with our relationship with God. If all things were created by Jesus, then the way to restore all things will be through Jesus. We have to go back to our relationship with God.
But to have that relationship, we must first understand who He is. That's why Jesus came.
A College Transfer Story
Between my freshman and sophomore year of college, I transferred from Simpson College to John Brown University. When I first heard the name "John Brown University," I thought, "No way. I am not going to John Brown."
It turned out to be an awesome experience. But the transfer happened incredibly fast—I toured on a Saturday during freshman orientation, got a scholarship offer that matched Simpson's, and by the end of the weekend, my parents and I knew this was where God wanted me.
We drove seven hours home on Saturday. I told my church I was transferring on Sunday. We drove back down on Monday. I registered for classes on Tuesday. I was in class on Wednesday. It happened that fast.
On Tuesday, I stood in the bookstore buying textbooks for classes my advisor had recommended. A couple were for something called "Integrated Humanities." I had no idea this was actually three different classes combined—an honors course with a reputation as the hardest non-major course on campus. I was clueless.
As I stood in line to pay, I heard a female voice say: "Oh, I see someone's as stupid as I am."
That's how I met Leanne.
She was a flaming extrovert, also a sophomore. Her goal as a freshman had been to know every single name on campus—all 1,100 students—plus one fact about each person. And she almost did it.
When she saw this guy holding books for a class only upperclassmen took, she knew I wasn't a freshman, but she didn't know my name or her one fact. So she swooped in.
Two days later, she walked into class, saw the poor transfer student sitting alone, grabbed a friend, and said, "Come on, let's make this guy feel less lonely."
Over the semester, I went from seeing this girl as "a little much" and keeping her at arm's length, to suddenly realizing: this girl had an incredibly deep, genuine, passionate faith in Jesus. She knew God's Word better than anyone I'd ever met. She genuinely cared for people—that's why she wanted to know their names. Not as a trivia game, but because they matter to God.
The more I got to know her and understand her, the less I kept her at arm's length. I became infatuated with Leanne Wojtkowski. (I'm proud to say: I won.)
The Point
You and I were made in the image of God. We were made to be in relationship with Him. But if you don't understand Him for who He truly is, you'll inevitably keep Him at arm's length.
So the question is: How do you view God?
This is why Jesus came: So we could begin to understand that nothing we've done keeps God away from us. Because of our sin, He leans toward us, not away.
When you begin to understand that kind of heart, you find yourself leaning toward Him. Being drawn to Him. Falling in love with this amazing God who made everything, including you.
Jesus came to restore your understanding of God. If you want to know who God is, look at Jesus. You'll begin to understand how much God loves you.
I know "state" is a weird word choice. Here's why I use it. The dictionary defines state as: "The particular condition that someone or something is in at a specific time."
When Jesus came to earth, humanity was in a state of sin. That's not where God created us to be, and it's not where He wanted us to remain. So He came to change our state—to put us into a right state.
We see this in verses 12-13:
"But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God."
We touched on these verses two weeks ago. Let's go deeper, focusing on that phrase: "children of God."
David's Story
I learned this past week about a man named David Scott. His biological parents were eighteen when they got pregnant. They didn't know how they could possibly raise a child—they were incredibly young and struggling financially, wondering how to get their next meal. The idea of bringing a baby into this seemed impossible.
They scheduled an appointment at an abortion clinic. They went. They filled out all the paperwork. In a documentary called I Lived on Parker Avenue (available on YouTube), Melissa, the biological mom, describes getting into the room. As the abortion was about to be performed, something stopped her.
"No. I can't do it. Stop."
She says the doctor ripped off his gloves, threw them in the trash, and stormed out. She walked out of that clinic, still unsure what she'd do. All she knew was she couldn't go through with it.
Melissa and her boyfriend Brian decided to let the baby come to term and give him up for adoption.
At the same time, another family had given birth to two children, both with genetic defects causing death shortly after birth. They realized they probably couldn't have their own children. So they entered the adoption process.
Baby David came to live with the Scottons in Louisiana.
They never hid the adoption from David. He had incredibly loving parents and great friends—by all accounts, a great life. Yet knowing he was adopted, something in him wondered about his biological parents.
At age nineteen, he decided to search for them. He found them. The documentary shows their reunion.
David didn't want to find them out of anger or for emotional revenge. He wanted to thank them—for not going through with the abortion and allowing him the wonderful life he'd had.
At the documentary's end, David says something like this: "Meeting them allowed me to find something about myself that I didn't even know was missing."
The Spiritual Parallel
You and I were made in the image of God. We were made to be in relationship with Him. We should have been children of God.
But we became apart from Him. Not because God gave us up for adoption and couldn't handle us—no, we sinned and walked away from Him.
But He loved us so much that Jesus came back into this world. Even while we were in a state of sin, He went to the cross to die for us. Romans 5:8 says: "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
Even while we were still sinners, Jesus did for us what we couldn't do for ourselves. He came to change our state from sinner to saint.
Throughout this Advent series, we've seen Jesus came to:
But notice who gets to become a child of God. Look at verse 12: "But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name."
We might all be made in the image of God, but we're not all children of God. It's only when we submit ourselves to Him, humble ourselves, receive Him and believe in Him—then we become His children.
The Question
Have you received Him? Have you believed upon His name? Have you believed that the baby born at Christmas went on to live the only sinless life ever lived so He could die in the sinner's place—in your place?
If not, let today become your spiritual birthday. Let today be the day you receive the Christmas gift of Jesus. Because He came for you.
And if you have received Him—if you've believed upon His name—then celebrate and rejoice that you've been made a child of God. Don't keep God at arm's length. Celebrate! Rejoice! Sink into this truth.
Because Jesus came to change your state from orphan to child.
You might be thinking: "Wait, if He's changed our understanding of God and changed our state, doesn't that indicate the relationship?"
Let's go back to David's story for a moment. Imagine that after Melissa and Brian gave David up for adoption and the Scottons signed the papers, they immediately dropped him at a foster home and said, "Will you take care of this kid for us?"
In the eyes of the state, he'd be the Scottons' son. Yet he'd have no relationship with them.
Jesus didn't come just so you could have a better idea of who God is. He didn't come simply to transfer you from spiritual death to spiritual life and then be done with you. He transferred you so you could be in an intimate relationship with your heavenly Father.
How did He do that? With grace and truth.
Look at verse 14: "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth."
(We'll explore "the Word became flesh" more deeply next week.)
The apostle John, who wrote this Gospel, was possibly Jesus' best friend while Jesus was on earth. He knew Jesus as well as, if not better than, anyone. So he could have picked many words to describe his best friend and Savior.
But he chooses only two: grace and truth.
Those two words are powerful and embody so much.
Truth Is Critical
Truth is absolutely critical and incredibly powerful. Jesus says in John 8:32: "When you know the truth, the truth will set you free."
That's how powerful truth is—it can set you free. When you know the truth of who Jesus is and what He did for you through the cross and empty tomb, it changes everything. You are set free from your sin.
Grace Comes First
But notice: John starts with grace. As critically important as truth is, he starts with grace for a reason.
Look at verse 16: "For from his fullness we have all received grace upon grace."
Jesus could have expected us to meet the demands. The truth was we were sinners, and we should pay the consequences. But He knew that if we paid the consequence, it would mean our death—spiritual death already, then physical death leading to eternal separation from Him.
Out of His extreme love for us, He comes and gives us grace upon grace.
This means you're not defined by your worst moment. If you're a follower of Christ who's put your faith in Him, you're defined by the work of Jesus on the cross for you. He gives you grace upon grace.
Have you thanked God for His grace lately? If not, today would be a great day to do so.
This is why the famous hymn isn't called "Kinda Nice Grace." It's called "Amazing Grace": How sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now I'm found. Was blind, but now I see.
Jesus has given you grace upon grace so He could restore your relationship with Him and His heavenly Father.
I don't think Jesus came only to restore our understanding, state, and relationship with God—though that's primary. I think He's also modeling for us the way we'll see restoration in other broken relationships.
Maybe right now you're in a frustrating relationship. Someone you're not getting along with. Someone you don't trust. Someone you're thinking ill of.
But if you long to have that relationship restored, you're going to have to give them grace.
It's not easy—especially if they don't give grace to you. Yet Jesus didn't wait for us to show grace first. We didn't say, "You know, God, I think it's unfair that You demand death for sin, but okay, I'll give You some grace." No. He doesn't wait for us to give Him grace. He overwhelms us with His grace.
He didn't have to go to that cross. He didn't need to pay for His own sin because He had none. He did it for you.
If a holy, perfect God can forgive you of your sin, how much more should you and I forgive our fellow sinners?
If you want a restored relationship with your spouse, child, parent, teammate, classmate, boss, or employee—you're going to have to give them grace upon grace.
Now, I'm not asking you to ignore wisdom. I'm not asking you to ignore sin. I'm not asking you to minimize the lies they've told, the things they've done, the way they broke your trust.
But I am saying that if you long to have the relationship restored, you're going to have to do what Jesus did for us: give them grace.
Because it turns out they need Jesus just as much as you and I need Him.
Jesus walked into the bookstore of life. Rather than laying the key down and walking out to let us face the consequences on our own, He stayed. He remained so He might restore our understanding of God, our state before God, and our relationship with God.
This Advent season, as we anticipate celebrating Christ's birth, remember what He came to do:
And in turn, He models for us how to see restoration in all our broken relationships—through overwhelming, persistent, patient grace.
Jesus didn't set the key down and walk away. He took the key, unlocked the door to heaven, and invited us back home. Back to the Father who's been waiting for us with open arms.
That's the good news of Advent: the Restorer has come.
