Guide to Daily Prayer
Opening Prayer
Comfort, comfort your people, O God! Speak peace to your people. Comfort those who sit in darkness and mourn, Forgive us our sins and end the conflict in our lives.
Confession of Sin
Reflect quietly before God asking for forgiveness for all those things done and left undone that are unpleasing to God. 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 our nation and all those in authority.
Pray that Christ’s peace may cover 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.
Pray for those who suffer and grieve.
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
I’ve been hearing about vigilance lately. A number of people speak of it as a problematic response to painful experiences. Many were not cared for in the broad and deep ways that children need in order to flourish. Some experienced traumatic events beyond anyone’s ability to protect. One reaction to these kinds of experiences is to develop a strong sense of control—control of self, control of surroundings, planning for what might happen next. We know that self-control is a virtue, but even virtues can become prisons. Is it not the common human desire for control, which comes to all, also what gets in the way when it comes to trusting that Someone is at work in the world, reconciling all things to that One?
Reading 1 Thessalonians and Luke, we can listen for fine tuning of these responses that can bring life or can squeeze the life out of us. Both in the first century and in 2011 are those who desire above all things to know what will happen next. Some go so far as to predict when Jesus will come again. 1 Thessalonians 5 is fairly clear—no one knows when it will happen. It cannot be noted on calendars or arranged to fit into schedules. As a child I found it alarming that no one could know. Was not knowing what made it possible to plan, and do the right thing? As adults, still learning, we began to wonder if there is not a strong difference between the kind of alertness that can see grace at work in a moment and vigilance that wears out every moment trying to plan for the next and the next and the next. Reading today’s Luke passage we begin to hear what was echoed centuries later by Julian of Norwich, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” There is still plenty to learn, but gladly now there is the realization that not knowing when makes it possible to live each day, not as if it is the last (vigilance) but live each day as if it is each day, precious, full of possibilities. Luke and Thessalonians give witness that none of our doing can save us from heartbreak and trial. And none of our doing can bring what trust in God already brings: light, assurance, a place to stand and a holding when we fall.
Judy Skeen Professor, School of Religion
Monday, November 28
Psalms 1, 2, 3, 4, 7
Amos 2.6-16
2 Peter 1.1-11
Matthew 21.1-11
We taste Thee, O Thou living Bread, And long to feast upon Thee still; We drink of Thee, the Fountainhead, And thirst our souls from Thee to fill.
“Jesus, thou Joy of Loving Hearts” (Bernard of Clairvaux, tr. Ray Palmer)
One of the principle themes of advent is that of joy. And one of the things we may learn about joy—from the hymn stanza just quoted, from today’s scripture in 2 Peter, and in fact, from advent itself—is that joy has a kind of history. Joy is not only an event, but something with a past, a present and a future. In Bernard’s hymn, for instance, Jesus is the sustenance provided, the meal savored and the fullness anticipated. There is a similar narrative arc in today’s scripture. As he looks at Jesus, Peter celebrates that “we have been given everything” (v. 3). At the same time he exhorts his readers to present action—“make every effort to add to your faith” (v. 5). Finally, he looks ahead with delight and confidence: “you will never stumble . . . you will receive a rich welcome” (v.11).
In Jesus, the fullness of all things has been revealed. In Jesus we have seen the fullness of God (Col. 1.19). He also shows us the fullness of humanity. He is, Paul says, the true and complete human (1 Cor. 15.45-49). Indeed, in him, all of creation is summed up and brought to completion. In him we see, not only all that God is, but all that we are to become. This “what we are to become” however explains why this great gift has not only a past tense, but a present and a future.
Because of the light we have been given, we now have the calling of growing up into all the fullness of humanity that we see in Jesus Christ. And—what is more—because in Jesus we have received all we need for life and godliness, the calling we have been given is undergirded by certainty and confidence. We know that God will bring to completion that which he has begun in us. The joy we find in Jesus is one of contentment, one of aspiration, and one of anticipation. The gift we have in Jesus is not only something once received, but also a calling and a promise.
Steve Guthrie Associate Professor, School of Religion
Tuesday, November 29
Psalms 5, 6, 10, 11
Amos 3.1-11
2 Peter 1.12-21
Matthew 21.12-22
I love Advent. It’s my favorite season of the church year. I love the decorations in the sanctuary, practicing beautiful music with my church choir, decorating the tree with my husband, waiting for it to snow, making plans to see family, lighting the Advent candles each week, singing carols, and reading the familiar stories. I even like that annoying radio station that plays the same fifteen holiday songs non-stop between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I love, in short, the delicious anticipation that is the hallmark of the Advent season.
But what is it that we are anticipating? In some ways, it is hope itself. We wait for the coming of Jesus Christ, both for his birth as a baby in Bethlehem and for that future day when the full justice and peace of God’s reign will come to our broken world. We wait for that little baby in the manger because Emmanuel, God with us, God in vulnerable human form, is our only hope, and it is a beautiful hope.
But it is not an easy task, to bring justice and peace. Sometimes the darkness of the world intrudes even into our Advent hope. Today’s Gospel text, from Matthew 21, shows us a Jesus who looks different from the sweet child of Christmas. The baby has grown into an adult with a divine passion for justice, equality, and mercy, and a fierce desire to see our worship of God reflect this. Matthew tells of an act that seems harsh, especially during Advent: “Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. He said to them, ‘It is written, my house shall be called a house of prayer; but you are making it a den of robbers.’” Jesus refused to stand silent when he saw an injustice, and that dedication is why he is our hope for a better world.
In the midst of the joy and beauty of Advent, let us remember that this hope is embodied not only in Jesus, but also in us as his followers, the body of Christ. May we follow Emmanuel when our hope is sung in Christmas carols and lullabies, and may we also follow when making that hope a reality requires us to overturn a few tables.
Amanda Miller Assistant Professor, School of Religion
Wednesday, November 30
Psalms 12, 13, 14, 119.1-24
Amos 3.12-4.5
2 Peter 3.1-10
Matthew 21.23-32
“John’s baptism, what was its origin, heavenly or human?” “’I will not go;’ but afterwards thought better of it and went” Matthew 23.25, 29
Jesus believed all of life was an object lesson. Everything was an opportunity for learning. God is in the ordinary. In this passage there is an encounter and a story. In the encounter there is a teaching for our professional lives and in the story there is a teaching for our personal lives.
“What authority have you for acting like this” is the question put to Jesus. This is the question we ask any time we put a piece of our life into the hands of another: physician, accountant, auto mechanic, therapist—what do you have to offer me? Jesus said authority may have a heavenly or human origin. Parker Palmer put it another way: we have skills from our professional training and gifts that we were born with. When I stand in my college classroom, my Ph.D. gets me in the door; but I have found out it is patience, humor and intuition that generates classroom discussion. Our gifts are heavenly in origin, on loan from God, and we should not neglect them for an array of degrees and techniques.
The story: an immature son refuses to carry out something expected of him. To his credit, he lives with that decision for a while and concludes his decision was a mistake: “afterwards thought better of it.” I have made a few bad, costly decisions in my life. I chose a college on the advice of a mentor and it did not fit. I trained to be a preacher on the basis of youthful idealism and I outgrew it. In relation to each, I “afterwards thought better of it.”
The Father gave the son plenty of room to live with his decisions. God gives us plenty of room to live with our decisions. God’s forgiveness is always there. Sometimes what takes longer is for us to forgive ourselves. Then, if we don’t get it right the first time, by grace we can go back and get it right the second time.
The message of Advent is this: in the Christ-child God joins us in our humanity and as the Risen Christ God stays with us, whispering suggestions so we can think better of it. Deep change is always possible.
Ben Curtis 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
There is a gospel song that says: “Holiness, holiness is what I long for. Holiness is what I need. Holiness is what You want for me.” The song projects the searching and longing for holiness as twofold. It is something the individual desires. It is what God desires for humankind. Holiness is the making of that which is impure into something that is without blemish. It is the journey of taking that part of us or that element of our world and crafting an object that is pure. Holiness does not mean that the work is completed, but that the process of becoming like God is just that—a process.
In the epistle of 2 Peter, the author asks, “What sort of persons ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness?” (v. 11) While addressing a community dealing with internal distress, the writer attempts to counter false teachings by encouraging believers to be holy. Since “the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and the heavens will pass away ” (v.10), people of faith were to live set apart from a tainted world. This did not mean that they were to escape the world, but they were not to succumb to its guile and hypocrisy.
People of faith today are to do the same. We must live a holy life in the middle of hostility. However, any attempt to do so is not easy. When people dare to measure each other according to quantitative guidelines and not quality of life and service, living a godly life is difficult. What gives us the right to measure or judge each other? When women and men try to thrive in antagonistic environments filled with deceit and duplicity, living a holy life is a challenge at best. When at every turn there are complications and those who are complicit in evil, the journey to being like the Creator is indeed arduous.
Yet, just as believers of the first century “waited for the coming of the day of God” (vs. 12), we wait. We wait for the baby born in Bethlehem to make right that which is wrong. We wait for the Savior to deliver us from all evil. We wait for the Light to come and shine where darkness dares to overtake us. Come, Lord Jesus, come.
Stephanie Buckhanon Crowder Assistant Professor, School of Religion
Friday, December 2
Psalm 16, 17, 22
Amos 5.1-17
Jude 1-16
Matthew 22.1-14
How awful must we be, and how desperate our situation, if God has to come down in person to rescue us? And how much must God love us, to come in the person of Jesus to show the full measure of God’s love?
At Advent, we go back to the beginning of the Christian faith, back before creeds and councils, before seminaries and sermons, before denominations and dogmas. We come to Jesus himself. Like the early Christians to whom Peter wrote, we want it to be truly said of us, “Though you have not seen him, you love him” (I Peter 1.8).
During Advent, we come to see again that our church attendance and service to the poor and Bible study and worship is there to help us avoid a terrible fate: “Your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ” (II Cor. 11.3). How thankful we should be for Advent, which re-focuses our attention on Jesus himself.
We do not want to stray from Christ, but instead we long to learn to stand up for Jesus, just as Jude did when he boldly claimed in the midst of persecution that he was “a servant of Jesus Christ.” Jude tells his readers that we are “called . . . loved . . . and kept for Jesus Christ” (v. 1). What is better than being lost and hearing someone call us? What is more life-giving than knowing we are loved!? And what is more comforting than the assurance that we do not keep ourselves, but we are “kept for Christ Jesus”!
Sadly, there are “ungodly people, who pervert the grace of our God into a license for immorality and deny Jesus Christ our only sovereign and Lord” (v. 4). For wherever the gospel is preached, people are quick to twist God’s grace from being something that frees us to live for God’s holiness and justice into something that frees us from needing to live out God’s holiness and justice. During this season, we are invited to redirect our attention to “Jesus Christ, our only Sovereign and Lord” (v. 4). The churches opposing Adolf Hitler stated in the Barmen Declaration something we must reaffirm now in our lives and the life of our churches: “Jesus Christ, as he is attested for us in Holy Scripture, is the one Word of God which we have to hear and which we have to trust and obey in life and in death.” This is the good news for all who have ears to hear.
Todd Lake Vice President, Spiritual Development
Saturday, December 3
Psalms 20, 21.1-7, 110.1-7, 116, 117
Amos 5.18-27
Jude 17-25
Matthew 22.15-22
From the womb of the morning, like dew, your youth will come to you. Psalm 110:3b
It is a beautiful sentiment that slips—no louder than a whisper— from the lips of the Psalmist. A half-verse, not even a whole, sandwiched and almost forgotten amidst shouts of joy for the coming of a new king and priest over Israel.
These days it is difficult to miss the fact that Christmastime is coming—our time as Christians to shout for joy at the coming of a new king. Retailers send reminders before we have even had a chance to carve our pumpkins. I, for one, cannot wait until that one radio station plays only Christmas carols. Until I can dig out my Pottery Barn stockings and Guatemalan nativity set. Until store windows twinkle with lights that, perhaps unwittingly, recall the brilliance of the Star that shone over the birth of my Savior. It is these reminders, perhaps less than spiritual, that prepare my heart (though not my vocal chords) to belt out a resounding and heartfelt shout of “Joy to the World.”
But today, my attention falls upon this unanticipated whisper of the morning dew. It wets my shoes as I cross the front lawn. It lays stubborn sheets of ice on my windshield come Winter. Yet despite my petty annoyances, I cannot help but admire the dew. It lies there quietly before the dawn, before I rouse my sleepy consciousness, as water from the womb of the morning. Without lights, tinsel or virtual carolers, it reminds me of the silent birth of life. I think about the womb of Mary, where in silence, like the dew, the Life of God fills her with the youth of the bright morning star. Of this birth, one German mystic writes, God bears his Only-Begotten Son in you …. Whether you are sleeping or waking, he does his part
This Advent season I hope that you, like me, will have numerous occasions to shout for joy at the coming of our king. But today, I invite you to take these few moments to remember that before you even woke to meet the new day, a blanket of dew lay on the womb of your heart. For in the silent stillness of the night, the Life of the Son is born in you.
Manuel A. Cruz Adjunct Professor, School of Religion
Week Two
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 4
Psalms 114, 115, 148, 149, 150
Amos 6.1-14
2 Thessalonians 1.5-12
Luke 1.57-68
Praise the Lord!
Praise Him from the heavens!
Praise Him for His acts of power!
Sing to the Lord a new Song! Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!
As we begin to turn our hearts and minds toward the season of Christmas, let us begin with praise. Our praise reflects our anticipation of the coming King. From the very beginning, God’s desire for humanity was relational. The scriptures reveal the ongoing story of God’s relentless pursuit of His people and His desire to be in relationship with them. We respond to God’s compassion, to His faithfulness, to His love in the only way we know how: with unabashed praise. Yet even in our praise, God once again chooses to connect His presence with His people. Psalms 22 tells us that God inhabits or is enthroned on the praise of His people. God lives within our praises! He dwells in our response to Him. He again reveals His desire to be with us, to be among us, even as we are responding to Him. He is the praise of Israel!
This Advent as we reflect on the coming of the Christ, let us articulate our expectancy through praise. Let us extol the long awaited King for the hope His presence affords. Through Him we are reconciled and we can only respond to this miraculous offering with our praise! In a season that too often lends itself to receiving, let us not neglect to give. Give our praise to our Creator. Let us respond as the Psalmist says: with harp and lyre, with the sounding of the trumpet, with the clash of symbols, with all that we are and all that we have. Let the fullness of our praise reflect our true recognition of Immanuel, God with us!
In this season may our hearts and minds be filled with a praise in which God Himself inhabits. May we respond to Jesus with all that we are and all that we have.
Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!
Christy Ridings
Associate University Minister
Monday, December 5
Psalms 9, 15, 25
Amos 7.1-9
Revelation 1.1-8
Matthew 22.23-331
The Christmas season, among many things, is a season for giving thanks. It is a time to give thanks because the God of the universe, the Alpha and the Omega, the Word who became flesh, condescended to become like us in our human condition. On that first Christmas, God sent forth His Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons and daughters (Galatians 4.4-5).
Outside of our relationship with Christ, most of us cannot relate to what it means to be adopted. Like my new granddaughter, Violet, most of us have the experience of being raised by our biological parents. Our natural parents have many reasons to love us, and loving parents are a blessing from the Lord. How much more amazing is it, however, to be loved by adoptive parents!
A parent or a grandparent caring for a child or grandchild carries with it some sense of obligation, but an adoptive parent does not have this natural obligation and instead gives of himself or herself freely in a way that mirrors the mercy and love that Jesus Christ gives His adopted children. We are not God’s children by birth, but Christ gave freely of Himself, through His life and through His death, that we might be His children in adoption. Like an orphan in need we can cry out, “Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted” (Psalm 25.16), and the Lord will lovingly respond.
The Psalmist said about the Lord God, “I will give thanks to the LORD with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds. I will be glad and exult in you; I will sing praise to your name, O Most High” (Psalm 9.1-2).
In the weeks leading up to Christmas, the Gospel gives us much to be thankful for. This is a good time to prayerfully consider Jesus Christ’s humble birth, His perfect life, His painful death, and His glorious resurrection. If not for these things, we could never receive the redemption He gives us as adopted sons and daughters.
I will recount the Lord’s wonderful deeds and sing praises to His glorious name!
Bryce Sullivan Dean, College of Arts
and
Sciences
Tuesday, December 6
Psalms 26, 28, 36, 39
Amos 7.10-17
Revelation 1.9-16
Matthew 22.34-46
In this, the Advent season, we hold our breath in anticipation, watching creation around us exhale its last. The brittle branches of once flourishing trees and the unforgiving, frozen ground remind us that these are not days of abundance for the natural world. While we surround our fireplaces with gifts and fill our tables with seasonal bounty, life outside is suspended in the cycle of death.
As children wait by the window for their parent’s return as evening nears, so we wait for the birth of our Savior. He nears. But as He nears, unmistakable earthly suffering takes place right on the other side of the glass. Even amidst the joys of the season, we may experience a spiritual suffering or longing with an intensity that could rival the frigid, December winds. Winter can cloud the soul as much as it can the skies.
The Psalmist is no stranger to this pain. In Psalm 36, the author cries out: “I am utterly spent and crushed; I groan because of the tumult of my heart” (v. 8). The words drip with emotion and intimacy. They are the words of a weary soul, but they do not know finality. In the same breath, hopelessness is conquered. “But it is for you, O Lord, that I wait; it is you, O Lord my God, who will answer” (v. 15).
The journey to the manger is long, and in this part of the world, it is framed by winter’s grey and chill. We should not let this symbolism escape us. Snow and ice may render lifeless the earth beneath it for the time being, but life’s hope is never crushed. The passing of each day marks one day closer to the spring’s return. Though the heart may groan in waiting, its renewal is not far away. In the midst of suffering and death, the Christ Child is given!
Take heart! As the Psalmist writes, God will answer. The snow always melts, and Christ will always come. Rejoice in the faithfulness of our Lord and the communion we share with those who wait and hope for the return of Christ across the generations.
Camille Adams Senior, Religious Studies and French Major
Wednesday, December 7
Psalms 38, 119.25-48
Amos 8.1-14
Revelation 1.17-2.7
Matthew 23.1-12
Every once in awhile, I’d roll down the window, as I was driving about 55 or 60 mph, and let the cold air rush in against my face. I’d pretty much lost track of time at this point, winding my way through those hills. The Scottish countryside was beautiful and barren in late November, and I had nowhere in particular to go. I was just driving.
It had been precisely two years since Mom died, though that death itself had taken three and a half years to occur from the day when we found out that she had cancer. Cancer—a word that stings to hear, to say, or to even type. It destroys tissue; it destroys organs, and it destroys lives.
I woke up that morning in 2006 in Scotland, where I was in the middle of a graduate program, over 4000 miles away from where I’d last seen my mother lying in a hospital bed. Somehow, though, that presence of impending loss was no more distant from me at that moment than it had been on the very day of her death.
When I was young, I never understood the importance of anniversaries, of marking of those occasions important to one’s life. After my grandmother died, I remember Mama being upset on Grandma’s birthday and on other days that would have been important to Grandma’s life. Now, somehow, I understood the necessity of marking those occasions. They’re not options. They remind you against forgetting.
The year Mom died, she died on the very first day of Advent. Needless to say, it wasn’t the most cheerful of seasons for my family that Christmas. I didn’t exactly go through that Advent season hopeful at the impending life of the Son of God that was preparing to break through into our lives again.
I stopped in some small village for lunch that day in 2006 and had a very forgettable warm meal, got back into my car, and headed back to St Andrews. As I wound my way back through those hills, my thoughts themselves seemed to take a turn—I reminded myself that even in loss, there is joy in remembering, in celebrating the life that each of us lives in the time that God grants us. In two years after the death of a loved one, you learn how to mourn, but you learn something about the tenacity of life as well.
For me, that’s what Advent has come to signify—the sheer tenacity of life to break through in the midst of strife. As we look outside our windows and we drive our cars down the road, we see barren trees and harsh landscapes, and we think about how life, while seemingly defeated, is merely dormant now, struggling to be born into this world as something beautiful, something like a baby born to a peasant family many years ago.
Donovan McAbee Assistant 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
Advent is a time that Christians prepare their hearts for the incarnation of God’s love in human flesh in the birth of Christ. Advent also symbolizes the spiritual journey that Christians are on as they anticipate His return. It is in the waiting that we allow ourselves to get distracted from the One for whom we wait. In turn we become overwhelmed, stressed and frustrated with the inability to experience joy in our day-to-day lives.
In Psalm 37, David reminds us to “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him.” In the hyper-connected, fast-paced world we live in, being still is a foreign concept. There are deadlines to meet, people to see and much too much to do. However, in the busyness of doing, we fail to experience the power and the presence of Christ in our lives.
So as we settle into this Advent season, we must depart from the harried life that so deftly consumes us and take to heart David’s words, “Trust in the Lord . . . . Delight yourself in the Lord. . . . Commit yourself to the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.” In the midst of our chaotic schedules, we must discipline ourselves to be still in anticipation of His return.
One of my favorite hymns is “Be Still My Soul” by Katharina von Schlegel. The lyrics so clearly illustrate the majesty and power of God as victorious over all and in control of all.
Be still, my soul; the Lord is on thy side; Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain; Leave to thy God to order and provide; In every change He faithful will remain. Be still, my soul; thy best, thy heavenly, Friend. Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.
The end Katharina speaks of is the cornerstone of the Christian faith that Christ came to earth as a ransom for humanity and will rule with truth and righteousness over His people in His creation. This is the reason we celebrate the promise in the Advent! One day there will be no more schedules to keep and people to please. Our joy will be in the worship of Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord!
Tammy Bullock Senior, Ministry Major
Friday, December 9
Psalms 31, 35
Haggai 1.1-15
Revelation 2.18-29
Matthew 23.27-39
“Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.” Matthew 23.39
Our scripture passage for today is a jarring reminder of what, and who, it is that we are waiting for. In a season of holiday cheer and giftgiving, Jesus’ “Woe to you . . .” speeches are as out of place as noisy protesters. Having grown up on a steady diet of television, I know full well that it’s easier to spend the month of December encouraging good will among men. Calling people hypocrites and snakes and murderers is not at all what we’re supposed to be doing now!
Yet, Jesus points us towards something very important if we are to grasp Advent fully. While God eagerly waits to gather us all together (like a hen gathering her brood), in order to even recognize the one who comes in the name of the Lord, we have work to do.
We know that the world is unjust and Advent is a time for us to take stock of our own roles in injustice. Too often we, like the Pharisees of Jesus’ rebuke, see injustice as a result of what is happened in the past. We would not have condoned slavery, or Jim Crow laws, or economic inequality, or anything of the other things that are still evident in our time. Jesus demands, however, that we understand our own complicity in these things.
It is then that we are able to recognize the One who comes in the name of the Lord. Jesus is the one who calls us to an examined life—not just for its own sake, but so that we can recognize his efforts to reconcile the world back to God. The Pharisees who rejected Jesus did so because they could not recognize him as the one God had sent, just as they could not see their own responsibility to God’s work of reconciliation.
As I write this, people all over America are involved in contentious debates about justice and our economic systems and our ways of life. Perhaps by Christmas, the Occupy Wall Street movement(s) will be several months old and will likely still be a main feature in news coverage and national conversation. Regardless of our own experiences and thoughts about the issues, this movement should compel us to occupy the space of Advent in a way that allows us an honest look at our own roles in the injustice we see around us. May we, in the words of one my friends, hear the call to “occupy our own streets” so that we might truly find ourselves saying, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”
Micah Weedman Director of Outreach, University Ministries
Saturday, December 10
Psalms 32, 42, 43
Haggai 2.1-9
Revelation 3.1-6
Matthew 24.1-14
It is that time of the semester when, as students, we are panicked about the exams we have just taken or the ones to come in the next few days. Were all of my answers correct? Did I study enough?
As we all prepare for the exchanging of gifts in the coming of days many of us are panicking because we have not finished out the shopping list of gifts for our loved ones. It happens every year. I find myself struggling at the last minute for something special to give to those I love and care for and cannot think of one simple thing that will express how much I care for them. How can that be? I love them very much but how much should I spend on them? I want to see their face light up the moment that open their gift but will the gift I choose have that effect on them?
The fears and concerns that we often have this time of year over trivial matters often overshadow the hope, joy, peace, and love that we are called to recognize during the season of Advent. This is not the first time that anyone has pointed this out either. We hear it in some form or another every year.
In Haggai we find that the prophet Haggai has sent a message from the Lord telling the people to rebuild the temple that has been destroyed. As time moves forward the people become discouraged and fearful of the work being done and the Lord says to them, “take courage, all you people of the land . . . work, for I am with you” (v. 4). The Lord continues in verse 5 saying, “My spirit abides among you; do not fear.” The people have been called to replace their fear with joy as God is working among them in a way that no one can measure.
As we continue to fear the days ahead with our many lists and tasks to complete we can recognize the joy and peace that we find at this time of year. We are challenged to recognize the joy that the Savior has brought into our lives and the peace that we can find in that; a joy and peace that calm us and humble us during this Advent season.
Noah Quinton Senior, Christian Leadership Major
Week Three
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 11
Psalms 63.1-8, 98, 103
Amos 9.11-15
2 Thessalonians 2.1-3, 13-17
John 5.30-47
There is a pond near my home. I passed it frequently over the summer months, and on each sunny day, I would see a community of turtles sunning themselves on a half submerged log. Little turtles sat on top of bigger turtles, and every square inch of the log was inhabited. I usually slowed to look at them, because they brought me some joy.
One afternoon as I was driving near the pond, I saw a turtle attempting to cross the road. I turned around at the next side road and drove back believing that I would help the turtle to safety. I was incredulous to see the smashed turtle in the road because only a minute or two had passed at most. How could someone already have run over this helpless turtle? Was it done intentionally? Was a driver really that careless? I have thought of this moment from time to time. It doesn’t frequently occupy my thoughts and it did not ruin the beauty I found in turtles sunning on their log. The turtles continued to congregate there the rest of the summer, and I expect that they will do the same next year. This incident though, strangely enough, did come to mind when I was reading the Psalms.
In Psalm 98, the connection that exists among all forms of life is recognized. All of nature, the sea and the hills—even turtles maybe— sing praises of joy at the presence of the Lord, the Lord who is coming to judge the earth with righteousness and equity. There is decisive recognition that all belongs to the Lord and beauty is recognized as an indication of the Lord’s steadfast love.
What of the smashed turtle I saw on the road? Is all life like this? In Psalm 103, we are reminded that our days are like grass; the wind will pass over and we will be no more. What is there to praise about this? Just as in Psalm 98, we are told that our comfort lies in the steadfast love of the Lord. The Lord that judges is also merciful, gracious, abounding in love, slow to anger and compassionate. This Lord that knows that our lives are fleeting, like dust, has eternal love for us and for all of creation.
At Advent, we remember the love of the Lord expressed in the coming of Christ. In the grand scheme of things, our lives are as brief as that of an adventurous turtle, trying to cross a road on a summer afternoon. We are reminded by the Psalms that our lives are important and beautiful, even if brief and even if tragedy sometimes strikes. Our lives matter to our Creator and we should praise our Creator and take pleasure in our being alive. This Advent season, sun yourself on a log and sing, because the Lord loves us eternally and Christ’s coming is a revelation of that love. Incarnation is beauty; love is everlasting.
Sally Holt Associate Professor, School of Religion
Monday, December 12
Psalms 41, 44, 52
Zechariah 1.7-17
Revelation 3.7-13
Matthew 24.15-31
It is difficult to read texts like Zechariah 1.7-17 and Matthew 24.1531 and not feel completely disoriented. What has happened to Jesus, the humble, wandering teacher, most at home in the small fishing villages of the Galilee. “Blessed are the meek” and “Love your neighbor” have given way to a terrifying cosmic vision:
“For at that time there will be great suffering, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be” (Matt. 24.21).
“Immediately after the suffering of those days the sun will be darkened, And the moon will not give its light; The stars will fall from heaven, And the powers of heaven will be shaken” (Matt. 24.29).
By the time the gospel of Matthew was written, about half a century after the death of Jesus, its audience had undergone a world-shattering trauma. The bewildering text in Matthew 24 may describe the experience of some members of that community during the Roman-Jewish wars of 66-70 C. E., which culminated in the destruction of Jerusalem.
Two thousand years later, we are still able to read the gospel message that was written to that community, and which they somehow preserved to hand on to us. It is not difficult to imagine that in those days, these early followers of Jesus might have read or recited Psalms like 41, 44, and 52. These poems say a lot about enemies:
“By this I know that you are pleased with me; Because my enemy has not triumphed over me” (Psalm 41.11).
I do not like to think or talk about having enemies. Even in situations of conflict, I try to hope that those who are aligned against me have a greater identity than just “my enemy.” Nevertheless, this is a challenge on many days, and I need a reminder that the gospel message is, at the same time, both tiny and massive. It is the ordinary birth of a child in an obscure village and it is the falling of the stars from heaven. It is a momentary interaction on the shore of a lake, and it is a cosmic, worldshattering event.
Mark McEntire Professor, School of Religion
Tuesday, December 13
Psalms 45, 47, 48
Zechariah 2.1-13
Revelation 3.14-22
Matthew 24.32-44
Ah Christmas! We prove its grandeur with our joyously hectic participation. Although neglecting to observe the truth beneath its ornate mask serves to be anti-climatic, I cannot help but acknowledge the stress of preparing the smallest detail as worth every planned second. Ribbons, bows, and wrapping paper awaken my senses. The trappings enhance the party of togetherness and validate its stir. I admire any occurrence whose décor compliments the essence of a commemoration. I am enamored with the journey, shopping, food and carols that easily move me into a dance of celebration. Indeed with that same hope offered more than 2000 years ago, starry heavens compelled three wise men to leave their distant homes bringing gifts fit for a king, to a baby in a manger.
My love for the truth in Christmas far exceeds its elaborate trim. My love is centered on Christ, our Savior, the Bishop of our souls. Our preparations are even mirrored by the message of repentance John the Baptist preached which created a favorable environment for Christ to operate in the lives of people. His voice ringing like silver bells in the wilderness to prepare the way of our lord, “Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be brought low; and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways shall be made smooth; And all the flesh shall see the salvation of God” (Luke 3.4-6).
It is now up to us to be prepared for the second coming of Jesus Christ by the continuation of our faith in him. Our witness should be seen as a string of white lights in the darkness, never losing their shine. It should be adorned with ornaments of our sacrificial giving to those in need, and topped with the star of love for one another. Let us be like children on the night before Christmas morning, excited, joyful, faithfully looking for that gift like John, diligently preparing the way for our king. “All flesh shall see the salvation of God (Luke 3.6). Therefore, be ready; for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh” (Matthew 24.44). Again.
Patricia Smedley Director, Student Financial Services
Wednesday, December 14
Psalms 49, 119.49-72
Zechariah 3.1-10
Revelation 4.1-8
Matthew 24.45-51
It happens every year at this time—the decorating of my parents’ home for Christmas. There are several nativity scenes: the tiny Anri set hand carved in Italy, a gift from dear friends; the solid white porcelain, beauty in simplicity; the olive wood set from Israel; and the painted ceramic collection. Each figure is carefully placed throughout the house, complimented by fresh cut holly from a friend’s yard. Special lighting finishes the placement of the nativity scenes, each with its own beauty.
The Lenox plates are next in the decorating scheme. Each plate represents one of the thirteen original colonies, beautifully painted with elements indigenous to the state. The fresh holly motif continues. Votive candles and name cards, with the state name written in calligraphy by my husband, adorn each plate. The tree comes last with approximately sixty years of ornaments, carefully placed, evoking precious memories of Christmas celebrations of long ago.
The finished product is an amazing display of a house prepared to celebrate the coming of the Christ Child.
All of this preparation makes me think of the preparation of oneself for the coming of Jesus. Preparation of the heart is the central focus of the Advent season. Yet, somehow in the midst of finishing class work, final exams, shopping for the perfect gifts for those we love, attending parties, preparing the special foods of the season, we fail to prepare ourselves for the coming of Christ. Consider the words of the Psalmist:
The LORD is my portion; I promise to keep your words. I implore your favor with all my heart; be gracious to me according to your promise.
When I think of your ways, I turn my feet to your decrees; I hurry and do not delay to keep your commandments (Psalm 119.57-60 NRSV).
It is the halfway point of Advent. Are you personally preparing for Christ’s coming? Take time today and the remaining days of Advent to prepare your heart for the gift that God gave the world in his Son. Meditate on God’s word, take joy that the LORD is your portion, thank Him for His grace, “turn your feet” to his decrees, and delight in His love for you!
Martha Minardi Ministry Program Advisor
Thursday, December 15
Psalms 33, 50
Zechariah 4.1-14
Revelation 4.9-5.5
Matthew 25.1-13
My extended family has an interesting Christmas Eve tradition. Instead of buying gifts for everyone in the family, each person brings one item according to a theme (gift cards, kitchen gadgets, As Seen On TV items, etc.). On Christmas Eve, after the service at church, we all gather by the Christmas tree. There are about twenty of us there each year, and we draw numbers to play a White Elephant/Dirty Santa gift exchange. The point of the exchange is to open up the wrapped gifts one-by-one, but a family member with a higher number can steal any gift already unwrapped. If you are not paying attention, you cannot know what has already been opened. The perfect gift card (say, Target) could have been opened already by your cousin, but you missed it and instead unwrapped one for which you don’t have any use (say, Home Depot). You can’t steal the Target card; you don’t know your cousin already opened it. You were not prepared. If you leave the room to refill your apple cider or grab a piece of fudge, you could miss the unveiling of the most important gift card.
Every Christmas Eve, I make sure I am well prepared for the gift exchange. Before we begin I refill my drink and make a plate of snacks. I pick a seat with a good view and prop myself on its edge. I don’t want to miss anything. I refuse to be unprepared.
In the Parable of the Ten Virgins in Matthew 25, five of the virgins were unprepared. They knew what was coming. They knew who was coming. They knew what they needed for their wait. Yet they were foolish. Those five virgins did not have enough oil for their lamps. They missed the coming of the bridegroom. Their chance was gone.
The parable refers to the Second Coming, but it holds significance for us as we prepare for Christmas. The Advent season involves preparation. We prepare our hearts and minds to consider again just what it means for us that God sent God’s Son as a baby on Christmas Day two thousand years ago. The season can easily catch us unprepared because we are so involved in our busy, ordinary lives. I challenge you to make preparation a part of your ordinary life. Do not let yourself be caught unawares, unprepared. Do not let the most important gift card pass by you.
Kelsey Spinnato
Junior, Biblical Languages, English and Honors Major
Friday, December 16
Psalms 40, 51, 54
Zechariah 7.8-8.8
Revelation 5.6-14
Matthew 25.14-30
I love music . . . all kinds! My great regret is that I cannot play an instrument nor do I have a great singing voice. But music moves me as it does us all. Music is, as I heard someone say recently, a bridge of empathy from one heart to another. I find that especially true at Christmas. I can feel the fun of a song like “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” and spiritually be moved by songs like “O Holy Night.” From Thanksgiving to New Years Day, I enjoy listening to the music of the season, and truth be known, any time of the year. Probably the highlight for me is Christmas at Belmont where the School of Music’s orchestra and choruses bring to full bloom the music of Christmas.
In my house on Christmas morning, I try to have music playing as the children and grandchildren come down to open their presents. I like to sit back with a cup of coffee and watch as wrapping paper flies, hear the squeals of joy of receiving an unexpected gift, and the hugs of appreciation.
With all this excitement going on, one song will suddenly rise above the rest. It is a song that you probably have not heard, but one that will bring a tear to my eyes every time I hear it, “Happy Birthday Jesus”. The song is performed by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir’s Children’s Chorus with the orchestra. It begins with the young voices singing happy birthday to Jesus, and then this sweet little voice takes the solo and in the lyric the child is thankful and happy for all that is Christmas concluding with the reminder that the real gift is Jesus.
Looking back to the birth of Jesus and forward to his return as Lord of all, we read in Revelation 5.9 of the singing of a new song. A song that reminds us that Christ was slain for our sins and through his blood we are all kings and priests to our God.
This Christmas season as you celebrate with family and friends, carry these closing lines from the Children’s Choir song:
“All the carols and bells make the holiday swell, and it’s all about YOU. Happy Birthday Jesus! Jesus, I love You.”
Harry Chapman Director of Development and Major Gifts
Saturday, December 17
Psalms 55, 138, 139.1-17
Zechariah 8.9-17
Revelation 6.1-17
Matthew 25.31-46
Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
Matthew 25.37-40
The famous Danish Christian philosopher Soren Kierkegaard recognized the sting of the gospels. He wrote over 160 years ago that Christianity offends us because we do not understand its demand that we be extraordinary. Foolishly we remove the offense from the good news of God. Yet, Jesus holds fast to its offensiveness, like he does in this parable from Matthew 25.
Here, Jesus talks about “the nations” being separated according to the righteous and the unrighteous, like sheep and goats. In the Old Testament, the nations signified everyone else but Israel. Israel was the nation, as in Psalm 33: “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.” Yet Jesus calls the special status of the nation into question in this parable. He teaches that God is the Lord of the nations who make the least of these a priority.
Who are the least of these in Jesus’ words? They are people who suffer when groups erect social, religious, and cultural walls to protect their privilege. They are affected by systemic lack: malnutrition, social disenfranchisement, unacceptable shelter and spotty daily safety. They are sick too much, and imprisoned more frequently than those with privilege. They are the disposables of society.
I—we—need to be offended this Advent. This society is not as righteous as many of us believe, according to the standards of Matthew 25. Sure, there are great stories in Nashville about caring for the least of these: Magdalene House, Room in the Inn, Luke 14.12, Dismas House, and WhichWich as well as countless individuals. Still, in our city the homeless get jail more than treatment. Communities seek to drive out neighbors by not building their Mosques. Minorities go to prison five times more than whites. Poverty illnesses continue to afflict urban areas because good health care has a price tag. Private and public schools continue to disenfranchise.
My prayer this Advent is: may Christ surprise, alarm, and offend us into being the Holy One’s extraordinary people.
Andy Watts Associate Professor, School of Religion
Week 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 read from the Psalms and have found comfort, as well as accountability, through the words of David in so many experiences of my life. The one thing that always impresses upon my heart is David’s true wonder at this beautiful world and God’s unconditional love of us. Just like the rest of us, David’s life was full of experiences that led him through some very dark times. Yet, in spite of the valleys in David’s life, he continues to seek God’s direction and His favor. He is so honest about his failures and humble about his successes because he knows that the infinite God has power over all. In the passages we read today, David is particularly struck by the idea that the Lord could make the whole world and yet love mankind in such a unique way over all the rest of His creation. “What is man that You remember him, the son of man that You look after him?” (Psalm 8.4)
As we look ahead to the celebration of Christmas, we feel the same awe at the miracle of Christ’s birth that David found in the wonders of the world God made. Psalm 24 and 29 tell us that the Lord gives strength and peace to those who believe that He is King forever because God chose to love us in a way that is different from any other part of His creation. Our Strength and Peace is Jesus Christ whom the Lord sent to the earth for sacrifice on our behalf. Through faith in Jesus, we find salvation and the gift of an eternity in His courts.
During the next few days as Christmas approaches, take time to notice the wonders of God’s creation and enjoy its beauty just as David often did in the Psalms. Most importantly, rejoice that His most wonderful gift to us is not our earthly surroundings but the possibility of an eternity in Heaven because of the ultimate gift in Jesus Christ.
Laura Price Acquisitions Supervisor, Lila D. Bunch Library
Monday, December 19
Psalms 61, 62, 112, 115
Zephaniah 3.14-20
Titus 1.1-16
Luke 1.1-25
We are officially one week out from Christmas day. By this time next week we will likely have begun the post-Christmas clean-up process, started to firm up our New Year’s plans and begrudgingly begun to think about our imminent return to campus.
But before we get there, before we get to any of that, let us take this moment to be still before the Lord, to acknowledge His presence, to be still . . . and know that He is God.
Yes, Christmas is almost here! We would be wise to focus ourselves on the nearness of Christ during this season.
It is not that God is any “less near” the rest of the year, but it is that our attention is focused elsewhere. We struggle to acknowledge His presence, to see Christ in our midst—in the lives of those around us and in the ever-present work of God’s Spirit in our lives and in God’s world.
God is active all around us—and somehow during the Christmas season we are made more sensitive to this. It would seem that we have a unique opportunity, as we prepare to celebrate the coming of Jesus, to be reminded of how everyday is meant to be experienced as a Christ-follower—overwhelmed (in a good way) by the presence of Jesus.
God is near. God reigns in heaven, yet resides in our hearts. Yes, God is near.
God invites us to live as if we believe this. To give up on worry. To get rid of stress. To reorder our priorities. To reconsider how we treat others. To live as if we believe that God—coming to earth in the person of Jesus—means something . . . everything!
In a broken world that God is in the process of making right again, we are challenged to live differently. We are offered the chance to be changed. Transformed! We are called to live lives that testify to the greatness of the Great One that we celebrate—every year—on December 25th.
Yes, as we approach Christmas day and as God seems to allow everything to come briefly into proper focus for us, we are once again blessed by the gift of Jesus and invited to be changed (again) forever.
Guy Chmieleski University Minister
Tuesday, December 20
Psalms 66, 67, 116, 117
1 Samuel 2:1b-10
Titus 2.1-10
Luke 1.26-38
“For you have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, and my feet from falling” (Psalm 116.8). What an incredibly hopeful time Christmas is! Our Father chose to declare war for our hearts by sending us Jesus Christ. Rather than becoming distant from God’s adulterous creation, God came after us, came for us, came to us in the flesh. God saw God’s people suffering, and sent a precious part of who God is to serve as the very vehicle for our redemption and renewal. What is more beautiful, more hopeful, more loving that that?
In the most extraordinary act of pursuing love, God not only offered atonement for our sins but new life in abundant, intimate relationship. The sweetest present of all, Jesus gave us access to His presence. Do not miss an opportunity to embody all the hope of Jesus to those you encounter, especially in this Christmas season; be aware of the lost hearts in class, in grocery store lines, in the neighborhood. Do something costly. Be bold. Do all things in love. Do not fear. Arise, and let your light shine, for He has come, and so has His glory, alive within you! Let’s make this Christmas season a gift to God’s heart. Christmas can often be a holiday of mere sentiment, but as Bob Goff said, ”I love that Christmas isn’t an event; it’s an invitation. We get to be Christmas; we don’t need to just celebrate it.” Christ came to seek and to save the lost, to bring sons and daughters home. In this Christmas season, may we embody our Father s heartbeat on earth, and see that indeed, “He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the beggar from the ash heap, to set them among princes and make them inherit the throne of glory” (1 Samuel 2.8).
Happy birthday to Immanuel . . . God with us. I’m so thankful for the Love that makes all things new and never fails, that casts out all fear and conquers all. Praise You Jesus—to You be all the glory!
Megan Lamb Junior, Religion and the Arts Major
Wednesday, December 21
Psalms 72, 111, 113
2 Samuel 7.1-17
Titus 2.11-3.8a
Luke 1.39-48a (48b-56)
Our reading from the Gospel according to St. Luke contains one of the most powerful songs ever composed—the Magnificat of Mary. Through the centuries innumerable sermons have been preached, masterful works of music have been composed, and stunning portraits have been painted, all because of the profound lyrics coming from the lips of Mary. Sometimes called the Gospel of Mary, the Magnificat joyously and powerfully turns the values of the world system upside down.
To those who looked on the outward appearance rather than the heart of the matter, this young girl’s life and future were ruined with no prospects for happiness and belonging. But for Mary, faith transformed her foundational attitude to hope, which in turn gave birth to love incarnate. Mary comes to be known early in the history of Christianity as theotokos—the Mother of God. In giving birth to God Incarnate—the Son—Mary experienced the fullness of the promise she annunciates in the Magnifcat. What is the content of that promise?
First, from Mary we learn to express gratitude towards what life brings our way. Only through faith, hope, and love do we transcend the anxiety of the ego. We have no choice about what life brings our way, but we do have a choice as to how we respond.
Second, from Mary we learn that God is active in mercy and strength in our lives. The problem with human systems of reward by merit is that none of us can accurately make such evaluations. Mercy considers that we cannot see the whole picture ever. Strength from God lifts us from the common frailties of our human condition. Without God’s aid we judge ourselves and others mercilessly and drain away our energy.
Third, from Mary we learn that wealth and power are not ultimately rewarded. In fact, the obsession with wealth and power scatter and destroy our lives. No human system for the distribution of wealth and power that is not grounded in humility can ultimately prevail.
Fourth, from Mary we learn that God is faithful. In a society that often lacks respect, trust, and mutuality, we are reminded that finding our way back to a better way to be together calls for faithfulness to God and to one another. Now that’s something worth singing about.
Marty G. Bell Professor, School of Religion
Thursday, December 22
Psalms 80, 146, 147
2 Samuel 7.18-29
Galatians 3.1-14
Luke 1.57-66
The God-child arrives on Sunday, but the day is Thursday. Maundy can wait for its time. O come, O come, Emmanuel. Break into our world with such humble power as you did those many years ago. Come do what we cannot do.
In this Advent season, past regret often taints the joy. We are better at buying presents in honor of Christmas than allowing Christ into our lives. This advent season, I implore you to cultivate a sense of humility and honesty with Christ. Feeding the homeless and clothing the poor are definite goods of the human condition, but take time to feed your soul and clothe your heart in the robes of Christ. By doing so, feeding and clothing the downtrodden will not be an annual tradition but a daily existence. Alas, it takes more time to pray and listen than spooning mashed potatoes onto a festive plate.
The Psalmists know, “The LORD lifts up the downtrodden.” Every man, woman, and child can resonate the feelings of the downtrodden. Be honest before yourself and your God with faith that the Lord accepts you and loves you and wants to lift up God’s beloved.
Stop trying. Just stop. Stop insisting that everyone love you. Stop spending so much money to garner those momentary “thank-yous” that feebly stitch emotional wounds. Stop frantically striving to become. Just be. Just be in front of the Christ child as the fullness of God sleeps in a filthy manger. Just be as the light of the world is enveloped in darkness. Just be as the faintest light comes from a sleepy town in Israel.
You cannot save the world. Acknowledge and trust the one who can. You cannot heal the world, but be ever present for the one who came as a helpless babe for that one can.
On this Thursday, I invite you to do something that may hurt or that may not be productive as the whirlwind of festivities that beckon your attention. I invite you to just be. Be yourself truthfully in front of a loving and gracious God who once laid a head in a manger before being nailed to a tree to ascend into heaven.
Dear Lord Jesus Christ, lift up your beloveds in whatever emotional, physical, and spiritual state they may be. Let your love be acknowledged as deep as it truly is.
Jacob E. Drake Senior, Religious Studies Major
Friday, December 23
Psalms 93, 96, 148, 150
Isaiah 61.1-11
Galatians 3.15-22
Luke 1.67-80 or Matthew 1.1-17
“The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Isaiah 61.1-3
At the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, he returns to Nazareth, his hometown, to teach at his synagogue. When he stands before his family and community, he reads this passage from Isaiah and begins his sermon by saying, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4.21). However, this congregation had come together to see the big show—to see the miracles of Jesus; they could care less about that scripture being fulfilled. But Jesus doesn’t give them their show. Instead, he implies that true miracles are performed in the jailhouse, the slums, the orphanages, and the streets. When Jesus proclaims himself to be the Anointed One, he will be the one to transform and restore us to righteousness not only for our physical selves but our social, economic, and political selves, too.
During Advent, we anticipate the coming of Christ; we remember the restoration and transforming power that comes to us packaged in such humble beginnings. However, this remembering, this coming, this hoping does what the Word says:
“For as the earth brings forth its shoots, and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations” (Isaiah 61.11).
Our Advent waiting will soon be over, and when Christ has come, we will wear “a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit” (61.3). Now that Christ has come, the Scriptures have been fulfilled and we can “build up the ancient ruins,” content that we are working with the grain of universe to bring God’s freedom and peace to those far-off and dispossessed.
“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. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel!”
Allie Levanway Alumna, School of Religion
Saturday, December 24
Psalms 45, 46
Isaiah 59.15b-21
Galatians 3.23-4.7
Matthew 1.18- 25
One hundred eighty-eight years and one day ago a poem appeared that has exerted extensive influence around the world on the experience of the coming of St. Nicholas. It opens by depicting a situation in which “all seems well.” Each of the texts in the reading for today assumes an existence that is directly opposite. They portray scenes more reflective of reality, replete with its challenges and difficulties.
Psalm 45 engages the challenge of the coming together of a royal husband and wife. The trouble presumed in Psalm 46 echoes natural disasters and international calamity. The oracle in Isaiah grows out of its acknowledgement of a basic moral collapse among God’s people with reference to truth and justice. In Galatians, Paul writes for those wrestling with the personal call of believers to know God intimately. These texts assure their readers of God’s faithfulness as they engage the challenges and difficulties of life.
The account in Matthew 1.18-25 is narrated in a mere twenty lines of text. Its brevity may give the reader an unrealistic perception of its complexity. Reading it carefully and thoughtfully shows the events consumed a significant amount of time, created extreme anxiety within the participants, resulting in their facing genuine danger, but offered them no assurance of vindication within the framework of history. It seems clear, “All was not well in their world.”
The account shares no details about the engagement; how it was arranged, or who may have been involved. Based on the social practices of that world, it is inconceivable Joseph and Mary made such arrangements personally. Perhaps entire families were involved in the betrothal; and when she was found with child, the resulting tension and anxiety could rise to explosive levels, unless we are to assume everyone accepted she was “with child from the Holy Spirit.” Had that already been embraced by everyone, what are we to make of Joseph’s plan to “dismiss her quietly”? It was a dangerous situation for Mary and Joseph, depending on how their community understood the situation. The first coming of the one who would “save his people” was in a setting fraught with tension and danger.
The meaning of the narrative was not determined by the challenges surrounding the characters. It was determined by their willingness to be led by the God who was faithful in his presence.
Bob Byrd Professor, School of Religion
Christmas Day 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
The news media thrives on conflict. The conflict between nations, the conflict among families, the conflict of interests, the conflict over values, or even the conflict imagined all provide grist for the mill that gives us our daily bread of conflict. We can become addicted to the perversion of nations, families, and systems feasting on each other. If we are not careful, and often before we even know it, we create our own conflicts to feed our addiction. We live in a conflicted world.
Advent reminds us each year that God “will speak peace to his people” (Ps. 85.8). The Advent message proclaims God brings peace to a conflicted world. God works in ways that bring steadfast love and faithfulness together so “righteousness and peace will kiss each other” (Ps. 85.10). This season reminds us that the coming of the Prince of Peace (Is. 9.6) ushers in the very presence of peace to bring God into our conflict-laden lives each Advent season.
How can we be peace creators? How can we help righteousness and peace kiss each other? How can we be used by God to bring peace into the Advent season?
1 John 4 encourages us to love one another because “love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God” (v. 7). We learn from this letter at the end of the New Testament that a critical part of God’s peace plan for this conflicted world is our embrace of the one who came as a sacrifice for all our conflicted lives. God loved us first and because God loved us so much, “we also ought to love one another” (v. 11).
We become the very embodiment of God’s love when we love as God loved us in Jesus Christ. We help bring Advent into reality and we push the conflict back a bit whenever we love each other. May you sit at the table of love this Christmas Day and may you share in the love of Jesus Christ and for this day, among all days, push the bread of conflict out of your lives and share in the love of God with each other.
Merry Christmas!
Darrell Gwaltney Dean, School of Religion
