Guide to Daily Prayer
Opening Prayer
O come, O come, Emmanuel, And ransom captive Israel, That mourns in lonely exile here, Until the Son of God appear.
Confession of Sin
Reflect quietly before God asking for forgiveness for all those things done and left undone that are unpleasing to Him. Remember, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
1 John 1:9
Scripture Lessons
Read the Psalms for the day.
Read the Old Testament passage for the day.
Read the Gospel passage for the day.
Read the Epistle passage for the day.
Prayers
The following is a suggested guide for prayer during Advent.
Pray for all Christians around the world and especially for those who endure persecution for their faith.
Pray for those who suffer and grieve.
Pray for our nation and all those in authority.
Pray that Christ’s peace may rule over all the world. Pray for the end of conflict and war and the triumph of truth and justice.
Pray for all those who engage in the educational ministry of the Church and especially for Belmont University.
O come, O come, Emmanuel
As a closing prayer, read the words to O come, O come, Emmanuel appointed for the week.
Week One
O come, O come, Emmanuel, And ransom captive Israel, That mourns in lonely exile here, Until the Son of God appear.
Sunday, November 27
Psalms 111, 112, 113, 146, 147
Amos 1.1-5, 13-2.8
1 Thessalonians 5.1-11
Luke 21.5-19
Early in the fall I listened with interest and growing conviction to an NPR special editorial. A young woman who lives in a large American city was speaking from her experience as a Muslim in this place during the significant month long celebration of Ramadan. She was not unhappy, nor was she complaining about her experience. She was simply observing the kind of loneliness that came with celebrating a holiday in a place where so few people even knew it existed, must less knew about its meaning or practices. She was reflecting on the celebrations of Christmas and Hanukkah as well and sharing the joy she feels as she experiences the anticipation and preparation that is palpable throughout the city during late November and December. She ended by talking about her practice of fasting and prayer during Ramadan, the need for stepping back from the fast pace of life and reflecting on one’s inadequacies and one’s sense of gratitude.
In today’s reading from the prophets, Amos reminds us that the covenant of God is not limited to Israel. He spends the first two chapters bringing the whole world, including Israel, “up on charges” of having neglected the very things that God has focused on in the world. Amos puts at the feet of all nations the neglect of the poor and the greed that places human life at less of a priority than the next available profit. Amos condemns all those who have power and resources who overlook or push aside those who have none of either.
As the days grow shorter and the pace of holiday celebrations increases it seems fitting to be still and let the images of the last year run through our minds. It seems fitting that we might reflect a moment on what the celebration of Christmas might be like in a country where not many others even know the words and meaning of the celebration. And it seems like the appropriate time and the appropriate year to ponder our place in the whole wide world of persons seeking godliness. Perhaps this reflection will bring us to echo with the Psalmist:
Blessed be the name of the Lord from this time on and forevermore. From the rising of the sun to its setting the name of the Lord is to be praised. The Lord is high above all nations, and his glory above the heavens. Ps. 113:2-4
Judy Skeen Associate Professor, School of Religion
Monday, November 28
Psalm 1, 2, 3, 4, 7
Amos 2.6-16
2 Peter 1.1-11
Matthew 21.1-11
Jesus as our Pauper King had no permanent place to lay his head. He came to Jerusalem even riding on a borrowed donkey that had never been ridden. Usually kings rode well groomed and well trained prancing steeds with sparkling emblems adorning their shields and with silver decorations on the bridles and saddles. Such decorations did not seem quite fitting to place on an un-ridden, stubborn donkey.
When Jesus made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, he came not to revolt against the powers that be; he came to offer a robust affirmation of his Messianic role as King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Those who came before him and those who came after him were excited and shouted their Hosannas and spread their cloaks on the ground. Jesus was not humiliated by riding a borrowed donkey but rode with elegant splendor which caused quivers of expectations among the crowd. He came, however, not as a war lord to start a revolt but as the Prince of Peace to calm the restless pulses of those who had long waited for his arrival. He knew that light pinions of doves could fly farther than the wings of the Roman Eagles. His shining emblem flashed a message of meekness, gentleness, patience and peace, all sterling characteristics to be emulated by his disciples through the ages. Such a coming in spiritual pomp and circumstance made it fitting and proper for his followers to cover the road with palm branches.
His behavior on this occasion of his triumphal entry cheered the hearts of some and disappointed the hearts of others who were intent on a king who would and could marshal forces to lift the Roman yoke. It soon became evident that his coming was as Prince of Peace, but that did not release him from shaking up an arrant religiosity, for his ideas were fresh and crisp. He had no time to fume and fret over stiff legal details.
Jesus knew his purpose in coming and he came to claim those purposeful rights. He still comes to change stagnant swamps into aromatic rose-gardens. Is he not looking even now over the city of Nashville and would he weep or rejoice? Would Nashville be ready to shout “Hosanna to the son of David, Hosanna in the highest?” As he came 2000 years ago as a Pauper King, may he come now in resplendent grandeur to stir us.
Dr. Herbert C. Gabhart
Chancellor
Tuesday, November 29
Psalms 5, 6, 10, 11
Amos 3.1-11
2 Peter 1.12-21
Matthew 21.12-22
We all have that one friend that is great at exposing our faults. They are the ones who say, “well if you didn’t do (fill in the blank) then this wouldn’t have happened.” Or, even worse they say, “I told you so.”They are the people who point out the obvious; therefore, they are our most annoying friends. We get frustrated with their observations, but why? Is what they are saying wrong? Most of the time they are right, but we get angry because they have recognized a flaw that we have and exposed it.
We do not ever want to be told that we are bad at something or that we are wrong. Whether we mess up or make the wrong choice, we do not want to be told that we are not right. I know that I would rather be ignorant of a weakness in order to be more comfortable. A lot of the time it seems we would rather enjoy the idea that we are always right so that we do not have to face the sting of being wrong.
When we read the prophetic words in Amos and the teachings of Jesus in Matthew, we are given hope and are shown the path to salvation. But, we also run into the fact that as fallen creatures we are not always in the right. We read the teachings of Jesus and we realize that we are self-centered people; it is not easy to try to love our neighbors and not worry about what will happen in the future. We are exposed and made vulnerable by the words of Jesus and his life. However, we are not just left with “I told you so” or “You’re doing it all wrong.” Instead, through Jesus’ teachings, we are taught how to be part of the Kingdom of God and be a part of all that His Spirit is doing in the world. We are exposed, but we are shown how to be completed.
O come, O come, Emmanuel, And ransom captive Israel
This is a petition for the Savior to come to save us and in the process, expose us for who we really are and teach us who we need to become.
Brian Coates Senior, Religion Major
Wednesday, November 30
Psalms 12, 13, 14, 119.1-24
Amos 3.12-4.5
2 Peter 3.1-10
Matthew 21.23-32
In a comedic but tragic encounter with the priests and elders, Jesus tells them that “the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of heaven ahead of you” (Mt. 21.31). Reading this passage, I’m struck by the moral and social implications woven into the Kingdom of God. All of my white, American life, I’ve been a social insider. Reading this passage, I wonder if baby Jesus is my Immanuel, too.
Years ago I volunteered as a chaplain at a local hospital in a small North Carolina town. I also volunteered full-time as a community chaplain in an under-developed neighborhood. The illegal drug business was robust, as was the prostitution. On the weekends, prostitution increased. Women would send their children to a local matriarch, perhaps 10 to 20 in one house.
One Friday night my pager screamed out. The hospital operator told me that my services were needed in the ER. When I arrived at the hospital, I learned that there had been a fire in one of the houses and that many children and two adults died. For the next few hours, I stood helplessly by while mothers identified their broken and burned children as best they could.
In the book of Amos (chapter 3), the prophet gives us a glimpse of God’s kingdom. He tells a socially unjust Israel that God will rescue from destruction only a part of Israel, “as the shepherd rescues from the mouth of the lion two legs, or a piece of an ear …” Ironically, God’s kingdom is filled with those broken pieces of humans. I learned that night who they are. God gathers the dismembered of society—the poor who are oppressed and the needy who are crushed—and grafts them into God’s beautiful love. All the while, God indicts the social insider like me, the one who breaks the body—mostly unintentionally, or so I believe.
When St. Augustine pondered in the City of God whether the resurrection of our dismantled, dismembered and destroyed bodies meant physical restoration, he thought it unthinkable that the Creator should lack the power to revive and restore them to life.
Restored. Baby Jesus, come this advent and restore us. Restore me, broken through my social sin and graft me into your Kingdom … at least a little behind the tax collectors and the prostitutes.
Dr. Andy Watts
Assistant Professor, School of Religion
Thursday, December 1
Psalms 18.1-20, 18.21-50
Amos 4.6-13
2 Peter 3.11-18
Matthew 21.33-46
What is a true test of faith? As individuals we have all had our faith tested and at some point were found to be wanting. Often times we measure faith in terms of gaining something, whatever appeals to us to possess. It is easy during this holiday season to compartmentalize measures of faith as it relates to material objects. But for many believers who have lost everything but their lives in this past hurricane season, faith plays a greater part in the day-to-day struggle of living in the moment while simultaneously conducting a faith walk with Christ.
This year has been one of the most trying times in American history. God in his infinite wisdom has allowed us truly to see our nation as it really exists. We have seen some of the worst examples of neglect and incompetence on every level. Yet, for believers, we have seen the very best of humanity shine through the darkest and most dangerous days of our time. Psalms 18: 16 states, “He sent from above, he took me, he drew me out of waters.” People from all over this great land opened their hearts and extended a helping hand as well as financial assistance to those whom they have never met and will probably never meet in this life. These are commitments that the Lord has set before us. He charges us to love another as we love ourselves, have faith when physical circumstances attempt to dictate doubt as well as fear and rejoice in the coming of the Lord, Christ Jesus.
As we remember God’s sacrifice of love through the birth of his son, Jesus Christ, let us also remember that our Christian duties are ongoing and unending as is God’s love and compassion for all mankind.
Millicent Jolly Director, User Services
Friday, December 2
Psalms 16, 17, 22
Amos 5.1-17
Jude 1-16
Matthew 22.1-14
This collection of texts presents pieces of a puzzle that are not easy to put together. Psalms 16 and 17 ask God to act as a refuge and to “hear a just cause.” In the opening of each of these psalms, such requests seem to offer hope, but, as each psalm progresses, the claims of the singer become more difficult to maintain. The faithfulness asserted by the singer of Psalm 16 is more than I can assert for myself and the innocence of the singer in Psalm 17 stands in opposition to the sense of sinfulness and self-criticism that are part of my religious heritage. Both of these singers assume that they deserve the blessings and protection of God. By the middle of each poem, I find myself unable to sing along.
Psalm 22 presents a different problem. Its singer suffers from abandonment, mocking, pain and the threat of death. The quality and quantity of my own suffering do not rise to this level. Again, as I attempt to sing along I feel a growing distance between my own experience and the experience of the one singing. That distance is multiplied by my awareness that Jesus screamed the first line of this poem as he suffered on the cross.
Amos 5:1-17 offers no easy solution to the failure of identity experienced in these psalms. The furious prophet shouts out the word of the LORD on behalf of the poor and oppressed. He relentlessly condemns the wealthy and privileged. Who am I in this story? Am I the prophet, one of the weak and dispossessed ones, or one of the oppressors? I find no easy location in the text.
My frustration is brought to completion in the Parable of the Wedding Banquet in Matthew 22:1-14. There are so many characters—king, slaves, troops, invited guests and uninvited guests. I search in vain for a vantage point from which to hear the story. Is it supposed to satisfy me or scare me, to offer me hope or bring me regret?
The Advent season brings me a similar sense of dislocation. As a child, I found it easy to place myself within this story of the coming of a child. My place within my family was secure and well defined. When my children were very young, I identified with the new parents in this story and their sense of expectation. These days I find Advent a much greater challenge. It prods me to find a sense of identity, one that does not come easily. It faithfully beckons me to enter its warmth, but steadfastly refuses to tell me how.
Dr. Mark McEntire Associate Professor, School of Religion
Saturday, December 3
Psalms 20, 21.1-7, 110.1-7, 116, 117
Amos 5.18-27
Jude 17-25
Matthew 22.15-22
Gift giving is an art I have never mastered. The perfect gift remains an elusive target to me, but I’ve manage to miss the mark over the years. I’ve tried for Generosity and managed only raw Quantity. As a financially-challenged six-year old, I wrapped miscellaneous items I found around the house and placed them under the Christmas tree in an effort to hold up my end of the celebration. From the expressions of my family, I can tell you there is nothing quite as anticlimactic as unwrapping the stuff you have been missing for two weeks.
I have tried for Cute and come off merely Cavalier. Take it from me: shiny new plumbing supplies heralding a longed-for kitchen renovation do not say “Happy Anniversary” no matter how creatively they are wrapped.
I have tried for Extravagant and achieved only Costly. I’ve tried to woo someone with money, calculatingly spending far too much on something far too small and shiny, only to be out maneuvered in the end by a well-timed rose and a heartfelt note on a cocktail napkin.
As I reflect on the readings above, I realize I employ the same misguided strategies with God. I’ve offered him the yard-sale miscellany of my life when he is the original “man who has everything.” I have made a show of my resources, when he has seen the bankruptcy of my heart. I have tried to charm him when he knows all my best lines and how fickle my affections really are.
The worst gift leaves the giver unfulfilled and the recipient feeling bought-off or played, but the best gift fills them both and becomes a joy they own together. It captures the heart of both the giver and the receiver and elegantly embodies the best that is between them. It is a beautiful offering that affirms their knowledge of each other and the promise of what is yet to be discovered, encompassing but not necessarily large, personal but not pedestrian, precious but not necessarily expensive.
This Advent, I purpose to make of myself just such a gift— offering my life, fleeting as it must be in eternity, it is everything to me. My volition, it is the most precious thing I hold; and my flaws, unflattering and unremarkable, they remain the most personal and guarded things I own. My hope lies in the promise that one day, miraculously and by his grace, I shall be the perfect gift presented by Christ himself to the Father with greatest joy.
Andrew Johnston Dean of Students
Two
O come, thou Wisdom from on high, And order all things, far and nigh; To us the path of knowledge show, And cause us in her ways to go.
Sunday, December 4
Psalms 114, 115, 148, 149, 150
Amos 6.1-14
2 Thessalonians 1.5-12
Luke 1.57-68
The Jews did not expect Jehovah to incarnate Himself in order to visit and redeem them. They can hardly be blamed for this. Their history is largely a story of a god who went to some lengths to teach them that he was not to be represented by them in the likeness of anything they could see. In sharp contrast to people around them whose ubiquitous God-sightings ranged from mountain to mole hill, from lion to cat, from starry height to watery depth, from wind to windbag, the Jews by the time He came seem engineered to entertain the notion of Jehovah incarnated with as much automatic shocked rejection as any people theologically or philosophically could be.
Their sacred documents contain foreshadowed hints only in retrospect: the seed of the woman, the nation-blessing seed of the patriarch, the priest-king’s greater son, the virgin conceiving and the messianic whisperings of the Almighty within and among them. All of these are easily enough explained in terms other than Jehovah taking on flesh. Our much familiarity has eroded for us the ache of messianic longing in the heart of the God-fearing Jew in those pivotal between-era years; much familiarity has also eroded for us the shock factor of how the Messiah did show up among them to visit and redeem his people.
Hypostatic Union: The Mystery
The universe was by His Word decreed and by His Glory’s brightness still consists, and yet His flesh was made of David’s seed,
A tempted flesh that would not yield the deed though Spirit-driven to His desert trysts. The universe was by His Word, decreed
The storm which made the frightened fishers plead for calm, the sea, the mountain’s radiant mists, and yet His flesh was made of David’s seed,
A flesh to tire, to sigh, to weep, to bleed, and, silent, take the spitting, scourge and fists.
The universe was by His Word decreed
That in their orders galaxies proceed in whirling mysteries to sum their lists, and yet His flesh was made of David’s seed
To lie in earth and three days life concede ’till undone death His Risen Life resists. The universe was by His Word decreed And yet His flesh was made of David’s seed.
Ruby Dunlap Associate Professor, Nursing
Monday, December 5
Psalms 9, 15, 25
Amos 7.1-9
Revelation 1.1-8
Matthew 22.23-33
Theologians tell us that the various streams of historic Christianity share a common narrative, a “grand drama” with four acts: creation, fall, redemption and final victory. Advent is the season in which we celebrate the redemptive work of Jesus Christ, God’s promised Messiah and in which we are reminded of the hope of His final victory when He comes again.
This celebration and this hope have united Christians through the ages. Indeed, the theme of this year’s Advent devotions, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” is taken from an early Christian hymn believed to have been first used by Benedictine monks in the sixth or seventh centuries. Each verse of the original hymn begins with a reference to the Messiah contained in the prophecies of Isaiah and Micah: “Emmanuel,”“King,”“Radiant Dawn,”“Key of David,”“Root of Jesse,”“Lord,” and “Wisdom.” These references are called “antiphons.” In an apparent effort to build more symbolism into their liturgy, the monks arranged the antiphons with a definite purpose. In this case, when read in reverse order the Latin antiphons form the acrostic, “Ero cras” meaning “Tomorrow, I will come.”
Grace to you and peace from him who is, and who was and who is to come… Rev. 1:4
Behold, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him… Rev. 1:7
I am the Alpha and the Omega, says the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty. Rev. 1:8
This Advent Season finds Belmont University opening a new chapter in its history as it seeks to broaden its Christian mission. May God find each of us who are part of the Belmont family, Baptist, Methodist, Catholic, Presbyterian, Lutheran, Disciple, Church of Christ, Nazarene, Episcopalian and nondenominational alike, faithful to the university’s vision of building a “Christian community of learning and service.” And, may we join with Christian brothers and sisters from many traditions through the ages, in uniting our hearts in expectant hope of the coming of our Messiah.
Jason Rogers Vice President and General Council
Tuesday, December 6
Psalms 26, 28, 36, 39
Amos 7.10-17
Revelation 1.9-16
Matthew 22.34-46
On television this October, I watched Coast Guard helicopters pluck people from their rooftops and attics in a flooded New Orleans. One of the crew released a cable from 180 feet to the waiting people and a Coast Guard “swimmer” went down to pull up those waiting for a rescue. That line was the only way out for those below.
The prophet Amos also speaks of a line coming down from the heavens, a plumb line extended down by God to measure right living (Amos 7:7). God offered the Israeli people a plumb line, both a way out of the sin and pestilence and a way to measure what they should be doing. In the New Testament, Jesus offered another kind of plumb line when he gave the people the great commandment: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind… [and] You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39). One commandment, one plumb line, one way out of a flooded life.
The Christmas season has always asked me to reflect about the past year—to stand in the glow of Bethlehem’s star, its promise and hold the past year in my heart. When I think about New Orleans now, I think about those who didn’t catch the cable because they never saw it. I think about those who did reach safety, but will never return to the family, city or home they knew.
If I read the first two commandments closely, I feel that I am somehow connected to those people’s plumb line. The great commandment to love God and others fully is not really a call to rescue those who are “the needy.” It is a call to love so that we would jump into the flooded waters with those who are there and do whatever it takes to love them.
In response to Katrina’s devastation, that love looks like the money donated from around the world and like those people who have gone to help. The love of Christ also looks like taking a stand for the truly poor. Later in October, the U.S. Senate rejected a minimum wage hike that would’ve raised the income level for those below the poverty line. A single mother with two children earns $10,700 a year, $4,500 below the poverty line.
In the glow of Bethlehem’s star, the cross clearly stands, another plumb line, calling me to jump in the flooded waters and work against issues that contradict Christ’s call to love our neighbor as ourselves. Such a stand is my plumb line and my call.
Robbie Pinter Professor, English Department
Wednesday, December 7
Psalms 38, 119.25-48
Amos 8.1-14
Revelation 1.17-2.7
Matthew 23.1-12
All of the passages of scripture for today are connected by a somber tone. They deal with the brokenness of life, individually and collectively. A theme of waiting on God runs through all of these passages. None of these passages offers the hope for a quick fix or an easy answer to the broken places in our lives. In a world filled with “life coaches,”“self-help books” and “strategic initiatives,” today’s readings from the Bible seem oddly out of step with the contemporary emphasis on fixing problems. In a culture where time is money, we do not tend to have the patience not to intervene prematurely. If it is broken, fix it. There is a cure for every ailment—or is there?
Our obsession with fixing people, problems and situations preempts deeper healing. Put bluntly, we do not want to wait on God. Our 24/7 society demands immediate gratification. Our tolerance for pain—emotional, spiritual or physical—is low. Even our keeping of Advent has changed. Originally, Advent was another season of Lent, a time of repentance and deep reflection about life. It was tied not only to spiritual preparation for Christmas, but also to the Second Coming of Christ as Judge at the Last Day. Now it is primarily seen as a time of joyful expectation for the Christmas season. Some churches have changed the liturgical color from purple, which is associated with royalty and repentance, to blue, which is more reflective of royalty alone.
I am not saying that Advent is a time to grovel in our misery and give up hope. However, I am saying that it is a time to be honest about the broken places in our life. We have to endure seasons of darkness, waiting for God to bring healing and wholeness. In the more traditional Advent Wreath, the third candle is rosecolored, not purple like the other three. It is a joyful respite from the more somber aspects of the season. That rings true to the dark places of life for me. In those dark times, we often get a respite that reminds us of better days and the love of God which will heal our hurts. The Psalmist says, “But it is for you, O LORD, that I wait; it is you, O lord my God, who will answer” Psalm 38:15.
Marty Bell Professor, School of Religion
Thursday, December 8
Psalms 37.1-18, 37.19-42
Amos 9.1-10
Revelation 2.8-17
Matthew 23.13-26
I recently returned from Biloxi, Mississippi, an area that was devastated by Hurricane Katrina. I was one of 65 members of the Belmont community that headed to the Gulf Coast region with the intent of providing relief—whatever that might mean or look like. It is hard to put into words what I saw, what I experienced, even what I felt. I can say that it is unlike anything I have ever experienced, or hope to experience again.
The reality that things will never be as they once were was so deeply evident with every interaction I had—every neighborhood I entered. One of the teams I was on encountered an elderly woman who happened to meet us at her “home” as we were completing the task of gutting her belongings from the saturated dwelling. A team member greeted her and helped her identify a few items, including a picture album, which was salvageable. We stood with her curb side as she shared with us how just a year ago she found herself in this same scenario—a home full of belongings that was no more—complete loss, total devastation. It was hard to hear—harder to understand— uncomfortable.
For our work and a few token belonging, she expressed immense love and joy to us. This seemed even harder to stand and accept. And where did this joy and love come from? Her life as she once knew it was now over!
Jesus’ coming some 2,000 years ago was a sign that things would never be the same—that life would be forever changed. This should serve to give us all a sense of perspective. There is security and shelter in Immanuel, God with us, that can be found no where else—in no one else—in nothing else. In a world that assures no one of anything, there is comfort and peace that can be found in a God who took on human flesh for you and for me.
As we celebrate the coming of Christ this Christmas season and as we look ahead to the day Christ returns for us all, may we find all that we need—and more—in the truth of who Jesus is and what He continues to be about.
Day by day the LORD takes care of the innocent, and they will receive a reward forever. They will survive through hard times; even in famine they will have more than enough.
Psalm 73.18-19
Guy Chimeileski University Minister
Friday, December 9
Psalms 31, 35
Haggai 1.1-15
Revelation 2.18-29
Matthew 23.27-39
Oftentimes the Christmas holidays can be a time of much stress as we agonize over the gifts that we will purchase for friends, family and coworkers. We go to great lengths to make sure that we find the “right” gift for everyone on our list.
We adorn our homes with the finest holiday decor and carefully prepare those holiday dishes that have become family favorites. We exhaust ourselves by making sure that our holiday celebration is special to those that we love only to find that, in spite of our best efforts, someone was not pleased. This reality should lead us to question the true purpose of such a celebration.
In all of our preparation for celebrating Christmas do we dare pause to ask the question, “Is all of this effort reflective of selfish indulgence or is it to celebrate the coming of Christ?”
During this special season may we consider our ways as we spend, as we serve and as we give so that God might be glorified in our celebration of the coming of His darling Son. Let us adore Him, Christ the Lord!
Thus says the Lord of host: “Consider your ways! Go up to the mountains and bring wood and build the temple, that I may take pleasure in it and be glorified,” says the Lord. “You looked for much, but indeed it came to little; and when you brought it home, I blew it away. Why?” says the Lord of hosts, “Because of My house that is in ruins, while every one of you runs to his own house.”
Haggai 1.7-9
Susan West
Associate Vice President for Presidential Affairs
Saturday, December 10
Psalms 32, 42, 43
Haggai 2.1-9
Revelation 3.1-6
Matthew 24.1-14
In mid-September, my mother is ready for Christmas. She has just sent out her annual “Christmas E-mail,” the one asking for Christmas lists from all the children, grandchildren, cousins, nieces and nephews. It is at such moments that I realize that— sadly … very sadly, really—my mother and I are not much alike. My mother reaches out expectantly as important dates approach; I am struck forcefully by important events as they rush past.
Simeon and Anna are people not unlike my mother: Simeon, the aged saint who through all the decades of his long life had been “waiting for the consolation of Israel” (Luke 2:25); Anna, that remarkable prophetess who for more than 50 years remained in the temple “looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem.” (Luke 2:38). I’m glad for faithful people like these. The Psalmist longs to “go and meet with God.” The choir sings “Come! Thou Long Expected Jesus!” Simeon, Anna and my mother all strain to peek around the corner of the calendar, crossing off the days left until the Savior’s arrival. But is all of this Good News?
What about those of us who have lost any sense of expectancy we once may have had? What about those who have grown tired of waiting; whose patience has run out? What about those of us who feel too weary to sing very loudly—or with much feeling: “Come, thou long expected Jesus?”
The incarnation is indeed the fulfillment of a relentless longing, but this longing is not our persistent desire for God. “He came unto his own,” we read “and his own received him not.”The incarnation is the realization—really the beginning of the realization—of God’s ancient and obstinate desire to dwell in the midst of his people. We celebrate Advent; the good news of the God who came and comes, to us.
The Good News is not that God fulfills our longing for his presence. “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?” We may have such a longing—like Anna and Simeon. Or, we may not. The world was not waiting for the Christ with open arms, nor hoping breathlessly for the arrival of a Savior. The world was not desperately longing for the presence of God. Nevertheless, to such a world as this—and to such ones as us—God, the Relentless Lover, draws near.
Steve Guthrie Assistant Professor, School of Religion
Week Three
O come, thou Dayspring, come and cheer Our spirits by thine advent here; Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Sunday, December 11
Psalms 63.1-8, 98, 103
Amos 9.11-15
2 Thessalonians 2.1-3, 13-17
John 5.30-47
When was the last time you thought about God? This sounds like a silly question for Christians to ask of themselves; however, when was the last time you seriously pondered everything about God? Who is God? What does or did He do? Why is it important to stop and think about this during the holiday season? If you want a reminder of any of these questions turn to Psalm 103:
God …
pardons all of your iniquities (vs. 3).
heals all your diseases (vs. 3).
redeems your life from the pit (vs. 4).
crowns you with loving-kindness and compassion (vs. 4).
satisfies your years with good things so your youth is renewed (vs. 5).
is compassionate and gracious (vs. 8).
slow to anger and abounding in loving-kindness (vs. 8).
has not dealt with us according to our sins (vs. 10).
This Christmas season take time through all the hustle and bustle to dwell on thoughts of God. He is amazing; He created us and understands us more than anyone else. Verse 14 says, “For He himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust.” God knows we are not here on Earth for long; consequently, He has everlasting loving-kindness for those who keep His commandments (vs. 17-18). When Jesus comes back we will be in His loving-kindness forever and will always get to enjoy the wonderful gifts He has in store for us. This is an exciting thought. So, rejoice! Enjoy advent, the “coming” of Christ, by remembering all the wonderful attributes of God. No one else would send their own Son down to be born in this world if they could be in Heaven, much less die for you! So, reflect on God and what makes Him, well, God! This will surely make you anxious for His coming. Also, your life just might start taking on a more God-centered approach. Think about it!
Sara Clem Harrison Sophomore, Religion Major
Monday, December 12
Psalms 41, 44, 52
Zechariah 1.7-17
Revelation 3.7-13
Matthew 24.15-31
And He will send forth His angels with a great trumpet and they will gather together His elect from the four winds, from one end of the sky to the other.
Matthew 24:31
So much of the message of Christmas is bound up in the concept of anticipation … anticipation of the things that will come. No matter our age, we eagerly wait for the morning to arrive, anticipating the joy, the laughter and the warm spirit that the day will once again bring. We anticipate the smell of the turkey in the oven and the spice tea in the decanter. We anticipate the influx of family and friends. We anticipate the phone calls from dear friends scattered across the globe. Let’s be honest, what we really anticipate is the receiving of a gift, at least one really good gift. After all, what would Christmas be without presents?
Make your way through the local mall and you will find a bunch of really worthless gifts that you could give this year or that you could receive. One store has a pair of retro pink bunny slippers. Another has one of those Dancing Santa dolls that dances along to “Jingle Bell Rock.” Still another store has a set of exploding golf balls. I really do not plan to buy any of those things as gifts and I really hope not to receive them either. No, I am hoping for better this year. I am hoping for one really good gift.
One of those new iPod video devices would really be nice. I would take a new set of golf clubs. But maybe Christmas is not so much about what we want, but what we need. Who better to know our needs than the One who created us? I’ve decided to change my focus this year. I have decided not to anticipate what others may give me, but just to enjoy whatever they offer, good or bad. What I have decided to anticipate are the real gifts of Christmas that only God can provide…things like peace and joy and hope. Those things will come in abundance…they always do. That is the real gift of Christmas. God comes to us and offers Himself, bringing with Him all that we really, need.
So if you see me out walking late Christmas night with pink slippers on my feet and a toboggan on my head, just know that the smile on my face is not the result of simple gifts, but the afterglow of having spent another Christmas morning knowing that I have been loved beyond measure and gifted beyond what I deserve. I am anticipating a really good Christmas. I hope you are as well.
Jon Roebuck Trustee, Belmont University
Tuesday, December 13
Psalms 45, 47, 48
Zechariah 2.1-13
Revelation 3.14-22
Matthew 24.32-44
Sing praise to God, sing praise; sing praises to our king, sing praises. For God is the King of all the earth; sing to him a psalm of praise.”
Psalm 47.6-7
The psalmist encourages us to celebrate the sovereignty and lordship of our God and he suggests that one way we may do this is through musical expression—the blending of melody, harmony, dissonance, dynamic, meter and rhythm coupled with words of adoration and praise to our Lord.
The faith of Israel set to music—that is what we find in Psalms, the hymn book of the Bible. They sound the notes of both celebration and lament. They allow God’s people to speak to Him in every mood of life. They were not written to be analyzed, but to be read, recited and sung in the worship of God.
God has not removed himself from us. He is not an isolated creator. He is a very personal and loving God, who wants all People to be His people in all of His actions, God’s intention has been to establish a personal relationship of protection, commitment and love with His people. Christ fulfilled this expectation. He became God living with us.
From the “Liturgy of St. James,” 5th Century, the hymn writer has captured the essence of this brief verse:
Let all mortal flesh keep silence, And with fear and trembling stand; Ponder nothing earthly minded, For with blessing in His hand, Christ our God to earth descendeth, Our full homage to demand.
Ray Conner
Adjunct Professor, School of Religion
Wednesday, December 14
Psalms 49, 119.49-72
Zechariah 3.1-10
Revelation 4.1-8
Matthew 24.45-51
The Branch, our Messiah, the promise from the Lord Almighty! The promise of a jewel—a jewel that would remove the sins of this land in a single day. The Lord Almighty also said that “each of you will invite your neighbor into your home to share your peace and prosperity.” We could consider this peace as freedom from oppression from neighboring countries and prosperity as material wealth. On the other hand, we could consider this peace as the peace that only the Almighty can give us and the prosperity that comes only from the relationship with Him that can be found in no other. I choose the second.
This Branch, our Messiah, came as a baby boy, born in Bethlehem in his Father’s design, a poor couple chosen to rear him as he grew in wisdom and physically to become our Savior.
This Branch, our Messiah, is our redemption. No one else could ever pay enough to pay the ransom for me so that I can live forever.
This Branch, our Messiah, deserves all my praise and honor and glory. “Lord, you are mine!”
May we join the other beings around The throne in singing
Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty— The one who always was, who is, who is still to come.
Vernona Elliott Office Manager, School of Religion
Thursday, December 15
Psalms 33, 50
Zechariah 4.1-14
Revelation 4.9-5.5
Matthew 25.1-13
The prophecies of Zechariah are one of the final books of the Hebrew Bible and the Gospel of Matthew is the first book of the New Testament. The writers of Zechariah and Matthew are separated by at least five hundred years, but they both speak to a powerful theme of Advent: light coming into darkness. We know this theme from music. Many Christmas hymn writers use the image of a watchman on the edge of a city waiting for a sign of light.
In the ancient world, the oil-burning lamp must have had immeasurable value. As the days grew short, the lamp would provide a portable source of light and heat. The olive trees that provided oil were just as valuable. Lamp-stands made of gold and maidens bringing flasks of oil to burn in their lamps greet us in these passages. Why is the lamp so important? This is what we all need and wait for during the Advent season. The angel who asks us about the lamp and the maidens who hold burning lamps to light our way at midnight are images of the greater source of light. Like sleeping servants, we grow tired in the short days of December. We wait anxiously for the coming of Jesus, the birth of new light and new life. As we stumble into the New Year, we wait many weeks for the light to return in the sky, but the greatest light has already been revealed.
As you light your candle or lamp during Advent, think about the birth of Jesus, who brought light into darkness and life unto the dying. May your coming days be filled with light and hope.
Then he said to me, ‘This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel: Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts.
Zechariah 4:6
Jon Thorndike Professor, Honors
Friday, December 16
Psalms 40, 51, 54
Zechariah 7.8-8.8
Revelation 5.6-14
Matthew 25.14-30
You have shown you are trustworthy in small things; I will trust you with greater; come and join in your master’s happiness. Matthew 25:14-30
Do small things with great love.
Mother Teresa
We know this as the Parable of the Talents, a talent being a large sum of money equal to the wages of a day laborer for fifteen years. So Jesus introduces us to a story where the master is giving away an absurd amount of money on the assumption the money would be used in the flow of life.
Three servants are given different sums—five, two and one. I suppose the One Talent Person could have responded, “Why did I not receive more?” Living by comparison is a deadly game in the spiritual life, because it traps us in an undercurrent of envy and resentment.
The failure of the One Talent Person began with a misperception of the nature of the master, “a hard man, reaping where you had not sown.” Actually, we already know the master as extravagantly generous, handing out a fistful of dollars. When we understand God to be harsh and unforgiving, it freezes us for fear of making a mistake. Jesus seems to be saying the God of biblical faith is the opposite of this servant’s picture—hence, live with risk-taking so God as the audience can enjoy the adventure of our lives.
The master says, “You have shown you are trustworthy in small things .”The thrust of Advent is the discipline of waiting as God works in the ordinary to bring about the birth of the ChristChild among animals in a barn. If we want to know where God is speaking to us, we need to listen to the sound of ordinary things: the plea of a stranger, the barking of a dog, the aroma of bread in a kitchen.
There is something in life that matters. Advent says: know your life as a gift from the hand of God and scatter our talent with no thought of reward. Then and only then, will we meet a gratitudeand-fulfillment of biblical proportion.
Ben Curtis Professor, School of Religion
Saturday, December 17
Psalms 55, 138, 139.1-17
Zechariah 8.9-14
Revelation 6.1-17
Matthew 25.31-46
Christ has come. God is here, now. What are we waiting for?
Everyday we spend time “waiting”—waiting in line, waiting in traffic, waiting for the end of the semester. Advent is the season that asks us to wait, but actively wait—wait with anticipation, with hope, with energy. Advent is a time to prepare and expect.
But how do we wait on something that has already happened?
Christ has come. God is here, now. What are we waiting for?
Psalm 139 says, “O Lord, Thou hast searched me and known me. Thou knowest when I sit down and when I rise up; thou discernest my thoughts from afar. Thou searchest out my path and my lying down and art acquainted with all my ways.” Or, as Eugene Peterson translates in The Message, “God investigate my life; get all the facts firsthand. I’m an open book to you; even from a distance, you know what I’m thinking. You know when I leave and when I get back; I’m never out of your sight.”
Christ has come. God is here, now. What are we waiting for?
I believe what we wait for, what we hope for, what we prepare for, what we expect, is to know God’s love. To do that, we must accept God’s invitation to know that love, the same invitation God extended to Mary—an invitation she accepted. Even as she accepted that invitation, she waited for the birth of God’s love incarnate. And she knew God’s love. When we accept God’s invitation, we see this love manifested in each moment as Christ is revealed in encounters with colleagues, students, friends and strangers. And we know God’s love. We need only accept the invitation.
What are we waiting for?
Jane Warren Assistant Professor, School of Music
Four
O come, Desire of nations, bind All peoples in one heart and mind; Bid envy, strife, and quarrels cease; Fill the whole world with heaven’s peace.
Sunday, December 18
Psalms 8, 24, 29, 84
Genesis 3.8-15
Revelation 12.1-10
John 3.16-21
I love to travel to the beach, to bask in the sun—ahhh, the relaxation, the sound of the waves, the warmth of the sun, the sand between your toes … Can you feel it?
Psalm 84 says: “How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty. One day spent in your house …,” this beautiful place of worship beats thousands spent on Greek island beaches.
This fall has been an awful time for some who live near the beach—much destruction, loss of lives, loss of homes, income, hopelessness, fear, hurting. But even through all of that, God is there—God is love. God goes before us and comes behind us. Emmanuel, God with us.
Psalm 29 states:
The voice of the Lord echoes above the sea.
The God of glory thunders.
The Lord thunders over the mighty sea.
The voice of the Lord is powerful.
The Lord rules over the floodwaters. The Lord reigns as king forever. The Lord gives his people strength. The Lord blesses them with peace.
I find so much comfort in the knowledge that God IS and I am humbled with the knowledge of the meaning of Christmas—the true and complete gift of love.
We need Advent. Everything in our culture tells us that this season is about buying—the perfect present, the perfect decorations, the perfect feast, even the perfect memories for our families. And we need more than anything to be reminded of God’s perfect gift to all of humankind. We need to be reminded that we are waiting, that God’s time is not our time, that the world waited a long time for a Savior.
O come, O come, Emmanuel.
We need it because everything in our culture tells us that our lives should be built around our jobs, our purchasing power and our frantic schedules. We need to tell and hear the story of a God who chose to become poor and vulnerable. We need to stop and bask in the promise that one day God will return and we will worship in His house, a beautiful place that beats thousands spent on Greek island beaches.
Pam Hazelwood Executive Secretary to the Board of Trust
Monday, December 19
Psalms 61, 62, 112, 115
Zephaniah 3.14-20
Titus 1.1-16
Luke 1.1-25
Good things come to those who wait … or so we are told. If we were honest, most of us hate waiting. Letter writing has given way to the more efficient E-mail, which has in turn been replaced by the even faster text message. HOV lanes allow us quicker routes to our destinations; express checkouts allow us speedy shopping and FedEx ensures us our packages will arrive by 10 am the next business day.
How often we are willing to trade the good things we must wait for in order to receive what we can today. We choose the attainable over the possibility of what could be. We seek out what we can see and touch instead of what we can think and dream.
For most of us, the countdown to Christmas is well underway. Our cards are addressed; our lists are made and our travel plans set. We cannot wait until the day arrives and we finally receive what we have been waiting for. There is good news … we already have!
Sing, O Daughter of Zion; shout aloud, O Israel! Be glad and rejoice with all your heart, O Daughter of Jerusalem! The LORD has taken away your punishment, he has turned back your enemy The LORD, the King of Israel, is with you; never again will you fear any harm. Zephaniah 3.14-15
The waiting is over! Emmanuel has come! The time that was appointed is here!
At that time I will deal with all who oppressed you; I will rescue the lame and gather those who have been scattered. I will give them praise and honor in every land where they were put to shame. At that time I will gather you; at that time I will bring you home. I will give you honor and praise among all the peoples of the earth when I restore your fortunes before your very eyes, says the LORD. Zephaniah 3.19-20
As you are preparing for the Christmas season, allow yourself to embrace the goodness of this fulfilled promise. The long awaited King has come.
O Come, O Come, Emmanuel!
We receive You and all You have to offer.
Christy Ridings Associate University Minister
Tuesday, December 20
Psalms 66, 67, 116, 117
1 Samuel 2.1b-10
Titus 2.1-10
Luke 1.26-38
May God be gracious to us… Psalm 67.1
The Psalmist could never have guessed the weight of his words. In his pleadings for graciousness, could he ever have fathomed the depth of the mercy that would answer? All the earth bows down before the Most High! David sang for joy and danced at the wonder of God Almighty, who knew David and all of Israel by name and had once dried up a sea on their behalf. What must he have been asking for? “Show us Your face” was his prayer. Extend us one finger, oh Lord and we will never stop rejoicing.
The graciousness of God surpasses our wildest hopes. He answered David not with a face or a finger but with Himself; with all He could possibly give. Ten fingers, ten toes, over which a star and hosts of angels called out the very words of David’s rejoicing: Come and see what God has done!
This Christmas, take a break from the frantic shopping, decorating and relatives to spend some time taking in the unfathomable story of Emmanuel. Amidst all the happenings of the season, utter the prayer, “May God be gracious to us …” and remember, if you have forgotten, the glory and awe and absurd extravagance of this Good News that answers you. God with us! The God who holds the Universe at a command from His lips was born under the stars He knows by name. Come and see what God has done! O Sing for joy, indeed!
Shout with joy to God, all the earth! Come and see what God has done, how awesome his works in man’s behalf!
Psalm 66.1, 5
May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face shine upon us, that your ways may be known on earth, your salvation among all nations. May the peoples praise you, O God; may all the peoples praise you. May the nations be glad and sing for joy, for you rule the peoples justly and guide the nations of the earth. May the peoples praise you, O God; may all the peoples praise you.
Psalm 67.1-5
Natalie Corn Senior, Religion Major
Wednesday, December 21
Psalms 72, 111, 113
2 Samuel 7.1-17
Titus 2.11-3.8a
Luke 1.39-48-56
“Surprised” would certainly be one word to describe these two unexpectedly expectant mothers to be! The story hints these two knew each other better than is commonly thought. It is likely everyone in their family felt sympathy for the childless woman as the years passed and she bore no offspring. Elizabeth probably endured years of whispers and perhaps open ridicule from outsiders. Perhaps, Mary felt special concern for her.
The word of Elizabeth’s pregnancy provided the younger woman an opportunity to visit a relative and to confirm the validity of the amazing announcement Mary just heard from the angel. So, appropriately, she undertakes the travel and somehow manages the fifty to sixty mile trip from Nazareth to the hill country of Judea. What could be more natural and appropriate than for two expectant women from the same family to get together for encouragement and support? The meeting turned out to be more dynamic than either of them expected.
Elizabeth and Zechariah had to be surprised by the timing of her pregnancy. We do not know exactly how old Elizabeth was for the writer (thoughtfully) does not reveal her age. Her husband (perhaps, not so thoughtfully) commented she was “getting on in years” (1:18). At the sound of Mary’s voice, Elizabeth felt the fetus within her convulse and she launches into a song. The first verse began with a blessing on Mary and the child within her. The second was an expression of hope—hope that “there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken … by the Lord” (1:45).
Among the many things that may have surprised Mary, the biggest was likely the manner of her pregnancy. This concern is reflected in her question to the angel, “How can this be?” (1: 34) As a smaller child, she and her friends likely mused over the eventuality of having children, but as a betrothed woman, children would be considered a future possibility. However, with the affirmation Mary received from her visit to Elizabeth, the younger woman responds with her own hymn of hope and trust that this event would be the fulfillment of “the promise made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”
If God calls you to some task that interrupts your plans and routines, are you willing to be “surprised by hope?”
Bob Byrd
Professor, School of Religion
Thursday, December 22
Psalms 80, 146, 147
2 Samuel 7.18-29
Galatians 3.1-14
Luke 1.57-66
It is not the words of Psalmists, “Praise the Lord! For it is good to sing praises to our God” (Ps. 147.1), or of evangelists, “For the hand of the Lord was with him” (Luke 1.66), that have been running through my mind lately, but the words of the poetpriest Gerard Manly Hopkins at his most despairing: “No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief … Comforter, where, where is your comforting? Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?”1 I thought, “No worst, there is none” after the tsunami. I thought, “No worst, there is none,” after genocide in Darfur. I thought, “No worst, there is none” after each morning report of bombings in Iraq. I thought, “No worst, there is none” after Hurricane Katrina. I am not thinking now after the earthquake in Pakistan. It is not so much nature’s fury that pitches me past the pitch of grief, but the failure of a sophisticated, highly technological society to figure out how to offer comfort, relief and justice quickly to the suffering when that same society can send pictures of suffering around the globe within an instance of its happening.
So we wait patiently, cloaked in “world sorrow,” to pull another phrase from Hopkins’ poem for the arrival of a Redeemer. Will we risk hope, only to have it washed away in another tsunami the day after? When God gave human beings free will, God knew we would need a really good story to keep us going in the face of havoc and suffering. We would need a really good story to pull us back on track, to set us straight, to give us something to live for, to goad us into making something better of our human lives. That story is the birth of Jesus, signaled by a crazy, exuberant stellar aberration hanging in the cosmos. Only if we let His story go on in this advent season can we remind ourselves of where the Comforter’s comforting is—in the suffering on the cross that matches and blesses that of the child trapped in an earthquake’s rubble, that matches and blesses that of the grandfather caught in Katrina’s swirl, that matches and blesses that of the girl raped by the Janjaweed in Sudan, that matches and blesses that of the family whelmed by gulfs of the sea … and that gnaws at us who wait and watch from comfortable rooms.
Marcia McDonald Associate Provost
1 “[No Worst, There Is None]” in The Norton Anthology of English Literature, Vol. 2. Ed. M. H. Abrams, et al. 4th ed. (New York: Norton, 1979), p. 1796.
Friday, December 23
Psalms 93, 96, 148, 150
Isaiah 61.1-11
Galatians 3.15-22
Matthew 1.1-17
What was Matthew thinking when he began the first chapter of his gospel with a column and a half of genealogical information? It’s bad enough having to slog through genealogies in the Old Testament, but at least they are buried in the middle where they do not do much harm. None of Matthew’s fellow gospel writers bore their readers from the get go: The gospel of John begins with the cosmic “In the beginning was the Word.” Now that’s a great way to start the story of God coming to earth. And Mark’s opening in the middle of Jesus’ life, with John the Baptist pronouncing judgment and shouting forgiveness, is a great way to sweep us up into the drama of salvation. Even Luke who pens the only other Christmas story in the Bible has the authorial sense to begin with angels and miraculous births.
But if we force ourselves to stay awake and read Matthew 1.1-17 very closely, we notice something quite strange. Intermixed with the usual gang of Jehoshaphat’s and Hezekiah’s are the names of women. That in itself is odd, but odder still are the five women included: Tamar, who was raped by her brother; Rahab, a pagan prostitute; Ruth, who came from the enemy country of Moab; Bathsheba, who was seduced by King David; and finally Mary, who was a virgin—as it turns out—but was for a time viewed as promiscuous by everyone from Joseph on down.
Why include these women at the very beginning of the whole story? No casting call for any Christmas pageant ever held has included a woman who’s been raped, a victim of incest, a prostitute and the like. Well, that’s not quite true. Because in every Christmas play ever done, the real kids and the real adults are from families where all this and more has happened or will happen or is happening right now.
Who wants to think about abusive relationships and sexual exploitation at Christmas? Apparently no one but God. But God puts these women front and center in the Christmas story to remind us that women are central to God’s work in the world despite the best efforts of some men to crush them. And, God is letting us know that our sin-saturated, dysfunctional families— and even we ourselves—can be part of God’s story too. That’s the good news of Christmas.
Todd Lake Vice President, Spiritual Development
Saturday, December 24
Psalm 44, 45
Isaiah 59.15b-21
Galatians 3.23-4.7
Matthew 1.18-25
You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.
Galatians 3:26-28
Too often during the holidays do we get so caught up in the material world of shopping, cooking, decorating and traveling, that we completely forget the whole reason for the season. We go store to store to find the perfect present for a loved one; we baste the ham just so many times as to get it just right and then realize that the Christmas tree doesn’t have enough ornaments on one side. All of these instances are regular occurrences at my house between Thanksgiving and December 25.
But, I have found that if you step outside of the comfort of your own home and traditions, there is a world out there that is longing for something more than the board games and dolls that one longs for as a child. A little child wakes up at the break of dawn to rattle the presents under the tree, awaiting the perfect gift. You can see the joy on his face as he rips off the wrapping paper that someone had preciously wrapped around the toy. What are we longing for during the Christmas season? Why are there times when we roll over and go back to sleep instead of waking up with anticipation and joy? Why aren’t we shaking with joy over the excitement of doing something nice for others?
We are all united as brothers and sisters through Christ; but, there are brothers and sisters out there who do not get to celebrate Christmas like we do. Still, there are unbelievers in this world that do not get to celebrate the coming of Christ at all. When is a better time than any to share the message of Christ with someone than on His birthday? Christ was born to this world to die for this world; God gave us the greatest gift of all through His Son, Jesus Christ.
Share the message of Jesus Christ this holiday season; make sure at least one person has heard about the meaning of Christmas. Spend time united as a family and keep your focus on Christ. Jesus died for all of us. Let us celebrate His coming together!
Jessica Vander Loop Freshman, Religion Major
Sunday, December 25
Psalms 2, 85, 110.1-5, 132
Micah 4.1-5, 5.2-4
1 John 4.7-16
John 3.31-36
Our scriptures for today remind us of the sovereignty of God. Our psalms are royal psalms announcing the enthronement of a king who will laugh at his enemies (Ps. 2. 4), bless his people (Ps. 85.12), stand victorious in battle (Ps. 110.5) and remain on the throne forever (Ps. 132.14). These psalms remind us of a people and a God in contest with the world, struggling for supremacy and legitimacy. Ringing from the pages of the psalms are words of conflict that sound like yesterday’s news. In the midst of this conflict, the words of Micah prophesy a hopeful time when all of our weapons will be beat into farming equipment and when “we will walk in the name of the LORD our God forever and ever” (Micah 4.3, 5).
Personally, I long for that day.
Today reminds me that the day of farming equipment sitting on battlefields the world over is not beyond our grasp. God has already acted to provide for us the means to discover peace in the world.
God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another.
1 John 4.9-11
We could unpack those verses and find all the answers we need for the troubles of the world this Christmas Day. God sent his Son so we might live through him. God loved us. God sent his son to atone for our sins. Since God loved us, let us love one another.
We live in a complicated world, divided by religion and politics, fractured by hate and suspicion and infected by deceit and power. There are no easy answers but Jesus. For a moment this morning, lay aside all the hurt of your personal world and read and reread and reread and reread these three verses in 1 John 4.9-11. Listen for these simple words that are the gift of Christmas. God sent God’s son for you. You are forgiven. Love one another.
Merry Christmas!
Darrell Gwaltney Dean, School of Religion
