Dazzled

Once someone has a personal encounter with God, there’s no return to his or her mundane prior existence. One of the most memorable groups from the Christmas story is the first witnesses to his birth, the shepherds. In Luke 2:8-20, we see their transformation from calm night watchers to eager seekers to passionate witnesses.

But in his poem, “The Shepherds,” Mario Luzi points out the sheep were also eyewitnesses deeply impacted by that experience:

            And where would
                  those dazzled sheep graze now?
      Where were the rams pushing them?
                                      There was
      no grass at that height.
                        There was some
      Much further down
              But they didn’t want it, that grass
                                was crushed
                                and bitter,
                                      Now
                                      they craved something else.
(excerpt, translated by Luigi Bonaffini and taken from Biola University’s 2024 Advent Project)

An experience of the divine is life-redirecting. Our desires and values have changed, and the ordinary is now ruined. We see it in the admission from the Jewish authorities in Acts 4:13 that the disciples were hardly recognizable because “they had been with Jesus.” We see it in the radical transformation of fire-breathing Saul into the great apostle Paul through an encounter with the Jesus he had been persecuting. (Acts 9) And we see it all over the world as people groups meet Jesus through the translated Word of God. 

Those who have been dazzled are no longer hungry for what used to satisfy, but crave something higher. 

I sometimes wonder what happened to others who had an encounter with the divine, but the camera moves on, and there are no further updates. For instance:

  • Where does Lazarus show up in the book of Acts? How does a man who once was dead (John 11,12), who can empathize with Jesus’s experience like no one else, engage in the early movement Jesus started? I can’t imagine him fading quietly into the background.
  • What happened to the seventy Jesus sent out as witnesses and miracle workers? (Luke 10:1) They saw Jesus’ power coursing through their own words and in their own hands, and they had big stories to tell! (Luke 10:17) Some suggest that Andronicus and Junia (Romans 16:7) might have been two of these early ones sent out in pairs by Jesus, because Paul refers to them as “outstanding among the apostles,” and says they “were in Christ before I was.”
  • How did carrying Jesus’ cross change Simon, a bystander from northern Africa, who was forced into the spotlight for a brief moment? (Mark 15:21) While he never shows up again, his transformation is evident in his family: his sons are well known to the early Roman church, and Paul thinks of Simon’s wife as his adopted mother. (Romans 16:13)
  • What happened to the thousands in the streets of Acts 2, who heard the empowered apostles speaking in their languages? How did they lay the foundation throughout Rome and modern-day Turkey for Paul’s and Peter’s ministries? (Acts 13:13; 16:6; 18:2,23; 1 Peter 1:1)

And whatever happened to those shepherds? In the moment, they excitedly told everyone about meeting Jesus. Were they ever able to go back to their fields? Did any of them show up in the margins of the events described throughout the gospels? No doubt they were watching, anticipating a seismic shift. 

But the baby had to grow up before he could begin his earth-shaking ministry. The payoff would be well beyond their lifetimes. It was those who heard and responded to their message who would experience Jesus’ three years of ministry, his death and his resurrection. Sometimes the transformation comes well downstream from the original encounter. That’s where Scripture becomes an enduring witness for the generations that follow.

Maybe you have one of those transformation stories, or you are the downstream result of a transformative encounter. In what way were you dazzled, unable to return to the ordinary food that used to sustain you? Take some time to reflect on your own story, and your family’s story. If you have the time this Christmas, I’d love to hear your transformation story.

I’m going to sleep

You’ve likely heard the line: “The Lord grants sleep to those he loves.” So what does my brain conclude when I’m awake in the early hours, trying to get my mind to shut down so my body can get back to sleep? Insomnia already lends itself to negative spirals, so you don’t want to let the thought in that God’s love is measured by the quality or quantity of our sleep.

One morning last month when I finally gave up trying to sleep, I looked up that verse in two versions to capture the nuances. It’s even more confusing, because what does that last line have to do with everything that precedes it?

Unless the Lord builds the house,
    those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
    the watchman stays awake in vain.
It is in vain that you rise up early
    and go late to rest,
eating the bread of anxious toil;
    for he gives to his beloved sleep. (ESV)

Unless the Lord builds the house,
    the builders labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
    the guards stand watch in vain.
In vain you rise early
    and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat—
    for he grants sleep to those he loves. (NIV)

Let’s dig in and try to put the thoughts together. If only I was working from a bit more sleep…

Notice a few phrases: “Labor in vain.” “Stay awake in vain.” “Rise early in vain.” “Stay up late in vain.” And “anxious toil.” Ultimately all of these situations boil down to a person believing he is indispensable – that everything depends on him.

Or her. Remember that the celebrated wife in Proverbs 31 rises while it is still night to provide food for her household (v15), and her lamp does not go out at night (v18). Lack of sleep is no respecter of gender.

Sleepless nights are particularly a problem for leaders, who are builders, who are watchmen, who are providers and protectors. These roles are not trivial. People’s livelihoods, and even their lives, could be at stake. Knowing the author is Solomon also tells us another piece of context: this house he’s building is the Temple in Jerusalem (1 Kings 5-8). It adds a spiritual element to our roles: as spiritual shepherds and watchmen, we must rely on God to keep watch over the souls of those we lead (Heb 13:17).

The first point of the psalm is that we need to cooperate with God’s work. Unless God is working, the fact we’re staying up late or rising early won’t get us ahead. Better to give it to God and let him carry the burden for us. When we do that, whether it’s at night, during vacations or even during work hours, we are able to release the pressure of holding everything ourselves.

But let’s go deeper. Why does the author—Solomon himself—bring up the fact that we’re beloved? This gets at the heart of why the work doesn’t really depend on us. 

We know God chose Solomon to be king even before he was born. He would be a man of rest, and God himself would call him his son (1 Chronicles 22:9-10). The Lord loved Solomon and even gave him a special name: “God’s beloved” (2 Samuel 12:24-25). When God appeared to him in a dream and he chose wisdom over health and long life (1 Kings 3:10-12), he was not trying to prove his worth because he already had it.

Worthiness is not part of a father’s equation; if a son didn’t earn that status, he can’t lose it or gain more of it through his decisions and actions. That knowledge leads you to a place of deep rest.

Finally, notice that three of the things we do “in vain” take place at night. When I lose sleep at night, it’s because I’m turning things over in my head. As soon as something wakes me, my brain immediately begins racing 100 miles an hour. So at 3am, I’m moving from problem to problem, turning them around and trying to solve them. But I’m not writing anything down. I’m not capturing thoughts. I’m not getting up and working the problem. It’s all in vain.

Anxious toil was Martha’s problem, too. While her sister Mary sat at Jesus’ feet, listening to him, Martha was working hard, “worried and upset about many things” (Luke 10:38-42). I used to think I didn’t have a problem with anxiety, especially compared to others… until I named my sleepless hours for what they are: anxious toil.

So over the past week or two, I’ve been trying something. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I remind myself that I don’t need to do anything to earn or improve my status with God. I hand my anxieties and the sources of those anxieties back to God to hold for the night. I let him be the watchman. Then I try to dwell on what God says about me as his beloved. I picture myself sitting at Jesus feet.

I don’t often quote popes. But sometimes at 3am, I also quote John XXIII’s great line: “This is your church, Lord. I’m going to bed.”