Sunday, December 7

Thank you. Hear it. Hear it. Hear it. How about now? Alright, so on the back, there are bulletins. Inside our sermon, and next to them are some Advent devotions that take you through the week in part with the messages of following, and then the other part is in preparation for the next Sunday. Next, we'll also be serving the Lord's Supper a little later in the service, so if you did not pick up the email, we invite you to do so. So this morning, in a few moments, we're going to light the second candle of Advent, the Bethlehem candle, the candle that points us to peace. Bethlehem was an area that was small and quiet, kind of ordinary, sort of in the shadow of Jerusalem, but it became the place where God stepped into our world.

And so God, in the wilderness, as we'll see in a little bit, promises His people that, "I will go with you and I will give you rest." That promise takes on flesh at Bethlehem, where the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. And Jesus, our Emmanuel, is God with us. And so in a moment, as we sing and read and pray, we want to be reminded that the peace that God gives us is not something as fragile as Jesus. It's not distant. It's not dependent upon how steady we feel or how steady the world sees. It's anchored in the God who draws you. So, can you go ahead and pray, and then we'll read Scripture together, and then we'll begin our worshiping song. Father in heaven, we thank you that you are God of peace, and we thank you that that peace ultimately is your presence.

So much of our life, we spend seeking peace by removing things, removing noise, seeking to remove struggle and avoid conflict. And seeing in you that peace is not in the way you can't wait. And so as we come to your word in this moment, as we sing and pray and come to Jesus, that you remind us that you are with us, that you are keeping us in reality, that our hearts would be filled with this promise that we will never leave you with us today. And you would give us contentment and compassion for you. And you would give us to be with us today and to be with us today and to be with us today. Amen. If you would, let's be standing. We're going to read from this 85th Psalm. And we want to hear God speaking to you.

And we want to see that piece of it. So if you would, read with me. Let me hear what God the Lord will speak. For He will speak to His people, to His saints. But let them not turn back to fallen. Surely His salvation is near to those who fear Him. That glory may dwell in our land. Steadfast love and faithfulness meet righteousness and peace with each other. This is the word of the Lord. And so as the kids get ready to light the Advent candles, we're going to sing a song that we introduced last week. And as we reflect on the peace that God gives, the peace that is ultimately found in His presence, we're going to start by singing what's called "The Song of Emmanuel." It's a new song to some of us, and so we'll go ahead and let's go ahead.

Gloria, Gloria. Sing me the song of Emmanuel, this the Christ who was long foretold, low in the shadows of Bethlehem. Promise of dawn, now I behold. God most high in the manger lay. Lift your voices and now proclaim. Great and glorious, love has come to us. Join now with the host of heaven. Come to welcome, Emmanuel. King who came with no crown or throne. Helpless he lay the invincible. Maker of Mary, now Mary's son. Hold on wisdom to save us all. Shepherds, sages, before you fall. Grace and majesty, one humility. Come on, let me adore you. Gloria. Gloria. Gloria. Gloria. Gloria. Gloria. Those of the news of Emmanuel, joy and peace for the weary heart. Lift up your heads for your King has come. Sing for the light of the well. The light overwhelms the dark. Glory's shining for all to see. Hold on, I let the gospel ring. God has made a way. He will have the grace to tell the Word of Jesus. Glory's shining for all to see. Hold on, I let the gospel ring. God has made a way. He will have the grace. Tell the world's name is Jesus. Gloria. Gloria. Gloria. Gloria. Gloria. Gloria. Gloria.

in worship. We sing with joy, but we also this morning are focusing on peace, especially peace to a weary world. So we're going to sing a carol that echoes the angel's proclamation of peace.

It came upon the midnight clouds, that glorious song of old. The angels' plans in the place to hear the earth, to touch their harps of gold. Peace on the earth, good will to men, from heaven's all-gracious King. The world in silence still mislame, to hear the angels sing. Yet with the woes of sin and strife, the world has suffered long. Beneath the angels' dream I roll two thousand years. And man at war with man is not the love song which they bring. Oh, hush the noise, ye air of strife, and hear the angels sing. And deep beneath lies crushing low, whose scorns are bending low, who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow. But now, the glad and golden house comes swiftly on the way. Rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing. Let's pray. Let's pray. Let's pray.

I pray what's foretold when with the ever-surfing year comes round the age of gold. When peace over all the earth, its ancient splendors flee. And the whole world gives up the song. All angels sing. Amen. Amen. Amen.

A tendency to look in places for peace that ultimately peace will maybe only be temporary, or might just be sort of a very simple imitation of peace. And so many times we chase distraction instead of resting in God. We trust our own strength instead of leaning on His presence. We try to control, we try to seek comfort or maybe success or approval, but ultimately none of these things bring peace to our hearts. And so what I want to do, I'd like to go ahead and pray just briefly, and then we'll read some Scripture together to focus our hearts in both sort of confession and assurance of the peace that God gives. And then we're going to sing about the God who holds all things in His hands, the Ancient of Days. Father in Heaven, we come repenting for those places where we have trusted in ourselves, where we have sought peace in something other than You.

We just ask that You would be the peace that passes understanding, the peace that guards our hearts and our minds. That in a world that feels so often like it's in upheaval and we're tempted to strike out on our own, that You would call us to depend on You. We thank You for the assurance of forgiveness that we have. We thank You for the assurance of hope. We just ask that You would be with us as we continue in our service. It's in Jesus' name we pray. Amen. If you would, let's read from the book of Isaiah together. You keep Him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on you, because He trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock. This is the word of the Lord. We're going to sing Ancient of Days.

. Though the nations rage, kingdoms rise and fall, there is still one King reigning over all. So I will not fear for the grace that my God is the Ancient of Days. None above Him, not before Him, all of time in His hands. For His own it shall remain and ever stand. All the power, all the glory, I will trust in His name. For my God is the ancient of days. Though the dread of night overwhelms my soul, He is in me. I am not alone. Oh, His love is sure. And He knows my name. For my God is the ancient of days. Who loved Him, loved before Him, all the time in His hand. Through His knowledge shall we play and never stay. For the power, all the glory, I will trust in Him today. Through my God, His creation, those days.

Though I may not see what the future brings, I will watch and wait for the Savior King. Then my joy complete, sending face to face in the presence of the ancient of days. From love Him, now before Him, all time in His hands. For His glory shall we reign and ever stand. For the power of all my glory, I will trust in His name. For my God is the Ancient of Days. For my God is the Ancient of Days.

There's a place where mercy rains and never dies. There's a place where streams of grace flow deep into the sky. Where all the love I've ever found comes like a flood, comes flowing down. At the cross, at the cross, I surrender my life. I'm in all of you. I'm in all of you. Where your love repressed, my sins washed white. I owe all to you. I owe all to you, Jesus. There's a place where sin and shame are powerless. Where my heart has peace with God, is fearless.

Where all the love, I've ever found. Comes like a cloud, comes flowing down. At the cross, at the cross, I surrender my life. I'm in awe of you. I'm in awe of you. Where your love ran, ran, and my soul washed white. I owe of you. I owe of you. Here, my hope is found. Here, on holy ground. Here, I'm out of hell. Here, I'm out of hell. Here, I'm out of hell. Here, I'm talking what is here. Here, you saved my life. Here, I'm out of hell. Here, I'm out of hell. Here, I'm out of hell. Here, I'm out of hell. Here, I'm out of hell. Here, I'm out of hell. Here, I'm out of hell. Here, I'm out of hell. And my sin was one. I owe of you. I owe of you. I owe of you. I owe of you. I owe of you. Jesus.

When we think of peace, I think often we imagine sort of calm circumstances, maybe a steadiness to life, quietness, life sort of going as we hoped. But what's interesting is in Scripture, it teaches something deeper. Not that those things are not a part of peace, but that peace truly goes deeper. And peace, biblically, is not simply an absence of storms, but rather peace is the presence of God within them. There's a moment in Mark chapter 4 where the disciples and Jesus, He has been teaching. There have been a whole lot of crowds, and they've been following Him, and they leave to go across the Sea of Galilee. And in the midst of that crossing, Jesus, tired by all the ministry that He has been partaking of and sharing and healing and teaching, falls sound asleep. And in the midst of that,

the storms arise, and I imagine the disciples, most of whom are professional fishermen, do their best to survive the storm on their own. But the wind blows harder. The waves crash harder. And finally, sort of overwhelmed with what is happening, they wake Jesus, and they say, "Don't you care that we are perishing?" And Jesus just barely, simply stands up and goes, "Peace. Be still." And creation obeys. Not over time as the winds slacken and the waves get smaller, but the wind stops, the waves are still, and it says in Mark chapter 4, "There was great calm." You see, in that moment what the disciples needed was not a bigger boat, not more safety measures, not more skill in the storm. They needed the nearness of the One who commanded the waves. And as we come to this table, it is the same thing.

We have this reminder, this nourishment, this strengthening that God comes close to us in the midst of our storm. He didn't shout at us from a long way away. He didn't tell us a bunch of advice that we can follow, but rather He came near. He took on flesh and ultimately picked up a cross at Calvary. And through His body broken and His blood poured out, He purchased for us a peace that there is no storm that can ever take it away. And so as we take the bread and we take the cup, we're reminded that peace doesn't come from what we can control, but the one who can control all things. And the one who speaks not just to the storm, but to our hearts. Peace be still. Father in heaven, we thank you for the peace that you have given to us.

May we not seek our peace in shallow things. May we not seek peace through distraction or our own efforts. May we find peace with you. Remind us with this meal, with this bread and this cup, this body and this blood, that you didn't stand distant, but through your Son came close and took on flesh and dwelt among us. Encourage our hearts. Forgive us where we have failed. Guide us to peace. We ask that you bless this bread and this cup. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. If you would, take the bread with me and remember, as Jesus called us to, to remember his body given for us. And if you would, take the cup, the new covenant in the blood of Christ, and let's remember Jesus. Father in heaven, you nourish our souls, you strengthen our hands.

Where we wobble, you set us straight. May we proclaim through your strength and for your glory, your son, until he comes again. It's in his name we pray. Amen. We're going to go ahead and hear from God's Word at this point. We'll move into our Scripture reading.

We're going to go ahead and hear from God's Word. We're going to go ahead and hear from God's Word. We're going to go ahead and hear from God's Word.

Father in heaven, be with us this morning as we open your Word, as we see this beautiful picture of peace that comes not through the things that we can achieve, but through you and your presence. Encourage us, be with us. It's in your Son's name we pray. Amen. So one of the things that I think we as a church are blessed with, and that I sometimes maybe don't think about, maybe as much as I should, or maybe more than I should, I guess it depends on your perspective, is how many people we have who are talented at baking. And so when we have, you know, a wonderful, on occasion, selection of homemade cookies from different bakers, and they are all delicious, and what that has done, in some cases, has spoiled me for other cookies, right?

So you get a cookie, and you're maybe getting your Subway sandwich. You say, "Oh, maybe I'll get a cookie." And then you take a bite, and you're like, "Oh, this is not a cookie, right? I've had cookies before, and this doesn't taste like the cookies that I prefer." And we find in life that it is filled, oftentimes, by terrible imitations. Maybe we seek out the terrible imitation because it's cheaper than buying the official or the original one. Maybe we seek out the terrible imitation because it's just there. It requires less work than truly finding the original. What you find is we live in a world that is filled with all kinds of terrible imitations and counterfeits, and spiritually, one of the things that happens is we are experts at exchanging the good gifts of God for something that is sort of a broken and a feeble imitation of what God ultimately gives to us.

For many of us, I think peace ultimately is defined as an absence, right? If this particular thing was removed, I would have peace, right? If I didn't have to go to work, then life would be full of peace. If my neighbors would keep it down at night so I could have some quiet, I would have peace. If I could leave the rat race and sit in a cabin in the woods with a burbling brook and deer eating in a beautiful alpine meadow, right, I would have peace. For most of us, peace is defined as the absence of what we foresee or what we see as life's problems or life's difficulties or life's struggles. Peace for us has to do oftentimes with what is missing. Conflict is missing. Noise is missing. Busyness is missing. Struggle is missing.

And we are not the only ones who see peace in this way. I want to walk with you just very briefly with God's people in the wilderness as they sort of seek a shallow peace. And what you find God's people in Exodus, chapter 2 and 3, they cry out for rescue. And what you find is that their hope for peace in that moment would be escape. If we could just leave behind our captors, their hope for peace was the absence of oppression and struggle. Now that's not a bad thing, but it's only part of the picture. And the problem when it comes to seeing peace as simply absence is we only get part of the picture and our peace is incomplete. And because it is incomplete and it is unfinished, it does not support the weight of our weary, tired, struggling souls. And so while it's not bad for them to desire the absence of oppression, and nor is it bad for us to desire the absence of oppression, that's a shallow view of peace.

But what you find is because their view of peace was so shallow and they missed the bigger picture of what peace truly is, when struggle really comes as they leave Egypt, and God brings them into the wilderness and the Egyptians are pursuing. They cry out and they say, "Aren't there graves in Egypt? Why couldn't we just have gone back there where it was peaceful?" And they continue this theme in their hardship. In Exodus, the 16th chapter, they'll say, "Why can't we go back where we had meat pots?" And all of the bread and all the food, back to the comfort of Egypt. In Numbers 11:5 it says, "We had fish that cost nothing. We had cucumbers, melons, leeks, and garlic." And the problem with this peace, this comfort of peace as they're struggling in the wilderness, they look back to Egypt, the only place that peace really exists is in their mind.

Because there's no big pots of meat, unlimited bread, free fish, with all the salad and spices and fruit that you could want. And Israel, in their discontent, said, "If we could only be comfortable, if the struggle could be taken away from us, we would have peace." And because their view of peace is shallow, you see how it's getting worse and worse. It starts with something good, and then it sort of goes downhill. Ultimately, you see where they find themselves is by sort of saying, maybe not with their words, but with their actions, that having peace would be making God manageable. If we could leave behind all the things that make God uncomfortable, His glory, His might, His power, justice, and holiness, we could have peace. And in fact, when God descends in His glory on the mountain in Exodus chapter 20,

they say, "We would have peace if we didn't have to be in His presence." The way they say it is, "Moses, you go up and talk to God because we can't be around Him." His greatness makes us seem small. His holiness makes us aware of our sin. All they did was barely get through the Ten Commandments in Exodus 20. And they're saying, "Moses, you go talk to God." And it's a symptom that leads to a different problem. We'll have peace if we can leave behind all those things about God that make us uncomfortable. And so in Exodus 32, in their impatience, not just their struggles with who God is, but the fact that He's not moving according to their schedule. If we can leave behind the waiting, we'll have peace. And so in Exodus 32, they make their own idol a golden calf.

And in seeking peace, they want to leave behind a God who tells them what to do, but rather a God they can direct. They want a God that can operate on their schedule and do what they want. And they seek peace, not by running to God, but by manufacturing their own and leaving behind the reality of who God is. And you might think, looking back at Exodus, going, "Man, these guys, if they could only see the slope that they go down with an incomplete view of peace that compounds and compounds until ultimately they're manufacturing their own idols." This isn't just a reality of Exodus, it's a reality of the world that we live in today. We see it in places that lower the weight of sin, seeking to redefine and to push it aside, to make it more acceptable.

We see it in those who maybe struggle and seek to walk away from their faith because they see, "Man, I would feel a lot better if I didn't have a God who was holy and righteous and looked at my sin." This isn't the only place we see subtraction as a picture of peace. If we take away all the things that make me uncomfortable, I'll have peace. If we take away all of my struggles, I'll have peace. If we take away the righteousness and holiness of God, I can have peace. And what you find is there is no peace there, and it's not unique to Exodus. If you fast forward between 1,400 and 1,500 years, Jesus has come, He's been born, He has lived, and He is going to Jerusalem. It's going to be His last week on earth. And everybody knows He's coming, and everybody's excited for Him to come.

And as He comes, everybody gathers, and they begin to cheer for Jesus, and Jerusalem triumphantly. And notice what Jesus says and what Jesus does. "When He drew near and saw the city, He wept over it, saying, Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace, but now they are hidden from your eyes." This crowd in this city has deep desires. There is good news, because these people desire peace. The city desires peace. And the good news is, here comes the Prince of Peace, and He's coming down the road, but they don't see it. The crowd in the city seek peace by removing what they see as their problems. And you've seen it in the ministry of Jesus earlier. Those who say, "Jesus, if you just feed me, we'll have peace.

If you just heal us, we'll have peace. Tell my brother to split the inheritance with me. If it takes away my conflicts, I have peace." This crowd, as they view Jesus coming triumphantly into Jerusalem, think that if Jesus can overthrow the Romans and remove them from the equation, we will have peace. And at the same time, the religious leaders are thinking the opposite. If we can remove Jesus from the equation, we will have peace. And Jesus says, "Peace isn't just merely the absence." What does he say? "Would that you had known the things that make for peace." Not just the taking away of your struggles, or your hurts, or the things that seem to threaten you. And what we begin to see is that peace is not simply absence, but it is presence. It's not found in the absence of all the things that trouble us, but in the presence of God.

This is the mistake in the wilderness. Not seeing peace as the presence of God. This is the mistake in Jerusalem. Not seeing peace as in the presence of God. And this is our mistake, not seeing peace in the presence of God. I want to take a look at the promised peace. As Jerome read just a few minutes ago, God says, "Let them make me a sanctuary that I may dwell in their midst." And then he begins to lay out for them the pattern of the tabernacle. Now this promise of peace occurs when Moses is on the mountain for the very first time. Before you get the stone tablets, before they're broken, before God's presence descended on the tabernacle, before the tabernacle was even built, before the plans were even given, here is this promise: "I will let them make me a sanctuary that I will dwell in their midst."

And what we find is that God's peace comes from God's presence. It's not that wanting to be free or fed or have an absence of struggle is wrong. It's just not enough. True peace only comes when God is with us, that I may dwell in their midst. And this is a remarkable promise. And this promise, God's peace in His presence, is an incredibly gracious and unbelievably gracious promise to us. You see, grace is giving us what we don't deserve, but in a good way. You see, God's presence is promised to these people in Exodus chapter 25. And who are these people? So far we've seen them as discontent, grumbling complainers. That God does something amazing, and then they complain about the next thing, from one thing to another, and yet here God, in His grace, says, "I'm going to go live with the complainers."

Have you ever gotten into something that maybe you wish you had thought out a little more? I remember a couple of cars ago, we were looking for another minivan. Ours had been getting old and worn, hindsight being 2020. The van we sold, we still see on the road. I think it's down to like one shock or strut left because it kind of drives like this, but it's still going like 10 years later. And so in our hurry, a van showed up, and I said, "Oh, this is great. This is exactly what we need. The miles are low. It's exactly what we need." We go look at it, and it was like the perfect scenario, right? The older gentleman who really only drove it to the grocery store on Sunday afternoons is like, "This is going to be great."

And in our excitement, right, we begin to sort of miss some red flags, right? Like the red flag when I was like, "Hey, do you have the back seats?" And he's like, "Yep." He's like, "I left them in the garage so I can have a little bit more cargo space." And the mouse chewed on him a little bit. What he really meant was the mouse ate all of the foam, and there's just like fabric on a metal frame. Ignored the fact that this van was a very specific model that Ikea had only made for like six months in the U.S. and really had no cargo space. That's why he had to take the seats out. When I asked him why he was selling it, because, you know, it's a good van. You've only driven it to the grocery store on Sundays. Well, he's like, "I'm at the age where I need more driver aids."

And what he means is stuff that beeps when you're about to hit stuff, right? And so, but in our excitement, right, we just jumped right into it. "Perfect! Let's get in this van and go!" And while it was a good car, mechanically very good, and God took care of us with it, there are a bunch of things I wish I had thought through before we went ahead and pulled the trigger on that van. Here is God, going to dwell with His people, but He's not like us. He's not like, "Oh, I didn't think about this. These guys are grumbling complainers." He knows that they are grumbling complainers. He knows all of their brokenness. God sees, He knows, He even knows what will happen in the future, and He makes this promise anyway. God, knowing our brokenness, says, "I'm still going to come close."

Not just for them, but with us. Right? In our lives, all of our sin, before the cross, how much of our sin was future sin when Jesus died for us? Every single part. For while we were still weak at the right time, Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person, though perhaps for a good person, one would dare even to die, but God shows his love for us, and that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. And so there is this graceful promise of peace, and it's almost immediately broken. By the time we get to Exodus 33, everything has catastrophically failed. Moses on the mountain with God for 40 days. People get bored. They get tired. They're tired of waiting. They make for themselves a golden calf in the midst of catastrophic failure and judgment.

God will say to them at the beginning of Exodus chapter 33, "I don't think I can dwell with you anymore." Because the peace has been so deeply broken. And he says, "You'll go out. I'm not going to send you alone. I will send my angel before you. I'll drive out the people. I'm going to keep all of my promises. But I will not go up among you." Here's the reason. "Unless I consume you on the way, for you are stiff-necked people." God in His promised gracious peace says, "I will dwell with you." The people in hard-hearted rebellion turn their backs on God, and God says, "I can't be near you. I'm holy and righteous, and you're sinful, and you're unrepentant." You might say, "Well, why would God say this? The God who just promised to dwell with them now says He won't. Why would God say this?"

And God does so because He understands us better than we understand ourselves. You and I have to learn the hard way. In saying this, God is clearly showing His people that peace without His presence is impossible. And that's exactly what they learned from this. In this moment that follows this, the people don't go, "Oh, well, we're going to the promised land anyway." They began to mourn. And it says they took off their jewelry and their ornaments, and they just never put them back on. But they didn't just seek to repent in a moment, but they sought for repentance to be ongoing in their life. What we see in the beginning of Exodus 33 and what God's people began to understand is that peace and the land without the Lord is not the promised land. And this repentance echoes through the wilderness. Now, they're going to fall and they're going to struggle.

But in this moment, light clicks on and peace is understood as God's presence. And so Moses, in response to this, goes into the wilderness, says the tent of meeting, which at this point is a tent Moses sets out outside the camp in the middle of the wilderness. And Moses just goes and he throws himself face down before God. And he says to them, "You said you bring up these people, and I don't know who's going to go with me now. You said you're not going to go with us." He's like, "Consider this nation as your people, not just me, but this nation." And in verse 14, God says, "My presence will go with you and give you rest." And Moses will say, "How shall it be known that I have found favor in your sight, and I your people?

Is it not your going with us so that we might be distinct in your people from every other people on the face of the earth?" And the Lord said to Moses, "This very thing you have spoken I will do for you, for you have found favor in my sight, and I know you by name." Moses steps out into the wilderness as a representative of the Israelites. And he comes to this place where he says, "God, without you, I ultimately have nothing." Once again, he's saying, "Peace comes from the presence of God. My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest." You see, finding God's peace in His presence is what makes His people distinct. And it's a test of our hearts. How shall it be known that I have found favor in your sight and on your people?

Is it not in your going with us, so that we are distinct? What sets us apart is God's peace with us. And this peace is restored. The promises, the brokenness, the judgment, the broken hearts. This peace is restored when one man, Moses, walks into the wilderness and comes before God on behalf of his people. Peace comes in this tent of meeting, where Moses meets with God as he says, "Like a friend." And it's here that this section of Exodus restarts. We go back to the instructions for the tabernacle and the rules and the laws. And God's presence ultimately dwells in the midst of his people. What I want you to see more than anything this morning is to understand that the peace God promises is a greater peace, that it's bigger than anything else. When external circumstances fall apart, the peace that God brings to us is what we have when everything else fails.

You see, true peace is not found in the absence of trouble but in the presence of God. You see, the peace we often seek is temporary. Think about how easy it is to ruin our peace, right? Noise at the wrong time, busyness at the wrong time, struggle at the wrong time. In the book of Hebrews, we find this promise: "I will never leave you nor forsake you." Psalm 4 says, "You put more joy in my heart than they have when grain and wine abound in peace. I will both lie down and sleep, for you alone, O God, make me dwell in safety." You see, the peace that God brings to us is eternal. It's not ruined. It's not simply external. It's internal. And it's found in the presence of who God is. And I want us to think about that peace

and consider that peace. You see, the peace we often seek, what we find is that we have to protect it. We have to hold on to it. But God's true peace protects us and guards us. The peace of God which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. And I want you to see this with our minds, that the peace of God that comes lasts. It's not simply based on external circumstances, but on the presence of God. It's not something we have to guard, but something that guards us. And when we begin to understand that this peace is greater intellectually, it also stirs our hearts. So the call is not just to say, "God's peace is greater," but to say, "What peace is my heart fixed upon?" Listen to these verses, Exodus 33:15. And he said to him, this is Moses, "If your presence will not go with me, do not bring us up from here.

If you're not going to go with me, God, then don't take me anywhere." David, in Psalm 51:11, he's praying in repentance, "Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me." Peter, in John chapter 6, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life." When we look at how those who know God, and who are in God's presence, not just see the greatness of that peace, but see how their hearts hold on to that peace as if there is nothing else, because the reality is there is nothing else. It calls us to repentance. Where am I fixing my heart? What am I fixing my heart on? If I had this, I would have peace. God says, "If you have me, you have peace." So where is our heart?

In the Gospel of John, there is light and darkness in the very beginning. The Son, the Word made flesh who dwells among us, who is eternal, the Creator of all things. There is this wonderful and beautiful picture in verse 14. And the Word of God, and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. And we have seen His glory. Glory is the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. This Word dwells among us. It's literally going back to Exodus. Exodus 25 and 33, the Word is tabernacles. To set up a tent. And God's promise for the tabernacle was not just for the Exodus and for the wilderness. The Word became flesh and dwelt, tabernacled among us. That's what we find in Matthew, Emmanuel, God with us. And as the Word made flesh comes and dwells among us, what is the first thing we see Jesus doing in His ministry?

He comes to John, He's baptized. And then what does He do? He steps out into the wilderness, where just like the Israelites are hungry, He's hungry. Just like the Israelites seek comfort, Jesus would desire these things. He faces the temptation of bread and of comfort and of power, of ending and removing all of this strife and struggling. But Jesus does something different. He doesn't succumb to this temptation, but He triumphs over it. And three years later, He goes into the wilderness of our sin, and He takes that brokenness, and He pays the price for it. You see, there is a peace that is greater, and it is only ultimately found in Jesus. The one who first of all lived righteously by going into the wilderness and triumphing over our sin, and then who also stepped into the wilderness of our sin, brokenness, and separation from God,

and restored that, allowing the presence to be with us. This is both a present reality and a future hope. In Revelation 7, there is this song that is recorded. The song of the saints who have come out of the tribulation. Listen to what it says. Therefore, they are before the throne of God, and they serve Him day and night in His temple. And He who sits on the throne will shelter them with His presence. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more. The sun shall not strike them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb is in the midst of the throne. He will be their shepherd. He will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Our call this morning is to take our troubled, worried, struggling hearts to Jesus, the One who is our peace.

Father in Heaven, we so easily substitute things for peace. We try to distract ourselves into peace, ignoring our struggles. Maybe we try to remove, maybe we try to control. Help us this morning to see the only adequate peace, the only true peace is found in Your presence with us. It's in Jesus' name we pray. Amen. We're going to stand, and we are going to sing, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel."

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel, that mourns in lonely exile here until the Son of God is born. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel. O Come, Thou rod of death, stay free, Thine own from Satan's tyranny. From depths of hell Thy people save, And give them victory, O other grave. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel. O come, Thou desperate, come, and share Our spirits by thine avity Disperse the gloomy clouds of night And death's dark shadows put to flight Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel. Amen. Amen. Amen. "Follow me." Let's pray. Let's pray. Let's pray. Let's pray.