Finding Delight in An Awe-filled Fear
By Amanda Hudson
For uplifting messages, it’s hard to beat readings from the Prophet Isaiah.
 
One line that stands out is from Isaiah 11, which begins with: “a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom. The spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him: a spirit of wisdom and of understanding, A spirit of counsel and of strength, a spirit of knowledge and of fear of the LORD, and his delight shall be the fear of the LORD.”
 
Generally, we would not put the words “fear” and “delight” together, but when it comes to God, we can. To delight in the fear of the Lord is to rejoice in the grandeur of God. We are used to finding pleasure in God’s beautiful creations, but this passage is not about that — it is about the beauty of God Himself.
 
He, of course, is incomprehensible. The power of just a smidgen of His infiniteness and glory tips humans right over. Think of Peter, James and John falling down at Jesus’ transfiguration, or of Paul hitting the ground when God spoke, or of the bodily reactions experienced by others who caught a glimpse of, for example, a disembodied hand writing on a wall that caused a king’s joints to turn to jelly, and a whisper that brought great trembling to Elijah. 
 
Even so, we can ponder God’s greatness and praise Him for being beyond all comprehension. Although we are not seeing infinity as we look up at the stars, and we are not looking at God when we admire a mountain or beautiful tree, still that admiration of His creation tends to expand our hearts and minds at least a little bit, as long as we remember and honor God as the author of the beauty.
 
Another way to delight in God’s greatness is to sit with the nativity scene.
 
How amazing it is that One who had no bounds folded Himself down into that new creation that is a child. He accepted those limits before and after His birth, starting out utterly dependent upon His parents for all His needs. Jesus’ passion, you might say, began some 33 years before His Passion and death on a cross.
 
Somewhat like a man who is great in size, strength and abilities and who does not need to prove himself to others, our glorious God who stretches beyond the universe humbled Himself during His time on earth before His resurrection. His humility far outshines that of a big and strong man who feels free to be gentle with all that is smaller and weaker than he.
 
Far from being impatient or distaining toward the klutzy, confused, fumbling human beings that we all can be at times, Jesus was, and is, magnanimous, generous and merciful toward us as we stumble through each day. Pondering the nativity helps us find joy in God’s almightiness.
 
As we wonder how our God could make such a descent, it can be fun to ruminate on His infinity.
 
For the One who is infinite (and there is only He who is), size doesn’t matter at all. The saying that for God “a day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years are as a day” applies to God’s view of time. Of His view of size, we might say that the sun is like the whole universe, and the whole universe is as the sun ... or a leaf ... or an ant.
 
God’s glory also can be glimpsed when we look at His ability to pay attention, to love and to interact with the puny likes of us. Our diminutive size doesn’t restrict His love. He holds that tininess of each person in His hand and freely loves all His creation.
 
Once we realize that God’s utterly overwhelming presence cannot be comprehended, we can let go of our usual efforts to understand the unknown. Instead, we can simply delight in Him, in His power and might, in His beauty and love. This posture of being a wide-eyed and admiring child before Him will draw Him to us — and He in turn can delight in us as well.
 
This Advent may we live in the light of the coming of Jesus those 2,000-some years ago and in the future — and in the assurance of His great glory and incomprehensible love.