Advent 2015

Belmont University

Advent Devotional Guide 2015

Advent 2015 I am pleased to present the 12th annual Advent Guide for the Belmont University community. Even as the years have passed our longing for the coming Christ has continued to grow.

Advent is that season of waiting that carefully and purposefully helps us to realign our priorities and to glimpse, anew, our place before God. Our humble hope is this guide helps people focus more fully on Jesus Christ through the Advent season.

Advent reminds us of the once and future visit of our Lord Jesus Christ. May the Christ come to all of us this Christmas! May these devotionals help prepare our hearts for the coming of Jesus.

Each day, please read the scripture and the accompanying brief devotion. Pause for a moment in your daily life and begin to make a space in your heart for the coming Christ.

This Advent Guide comes from faculty, staff and students who start thinking about Advent in September when they work on this guide. I am thankful for their kind and thoughtful participation. I am grateful to Thomas Burns, the Provost of Belmont University, for his support of this project. I also especially thank Debbie Jacobs, Assistant to the Dean for the College of Theology and Christian Ministry. Each year she encourages writers, works with the printers and keeps me on track so we meet our deadlines.

This guide would not happen without her—all of us in the CTCM are deeply grateful for her faithful service.

May these reflections on Scripture help you walk each step of the Advent journey until you find yourself in the manger on Christmas Day!

Blessings,

Dr. Darrell Gwaltney Dean, College of Theology and Christian Ministry

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 eflect quietly before God asking for forgiveness for R 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. ray for all Christians around the world and especially P for those who endure persecution for their faith.

Pray for our nation and all those in authority. ray that Christ’s peace may cover the world. Pray for P the end of conflict and war and the triumph of truth and justice. ray for all those who engage in the educational ministry P of the Church and especially for Belmont University.

Pray for those who suffer and grieve.

As a closing prayer, read the words to Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence appointed for the week.

1

2

Week One 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.

3

Sunday, November 29  Psalms 111, 112, 113, 146, 147  Amos 1.1–5, 13–2.8  Luke 21.5–19  1 Thessalonians 5.1–11 I love Advent. Growing up, it was the only liturgical season my church celebrated consistently, and I loved it even then. My family lit the Advent candles at home each week, and we had a calendar with little doors to open each day, and a book that went along with it, telling the story of Jesus’ birth, one paragraph for each day of Advent. We put up the Christmas tree and drank eggnog afterward. And then there was my very favorite part, setting up the nativity scene, with all the delicate figurines that my mom had inherited from her grandmother and an open-front stable built by my dad.

With this as my picturesque image of Advent, the passages for this first Sunday of the season are often jarring! Amos’ prophesies of God’s harsh judgment on the nations surrounding Israel, and then chastises Israel and Judah themselves just as harshly. Jesus’ teachings in Luke 21 and Paul’s writing in 1 Thessalonians 5 speak of a coming and sudden “day of the Lord” with apocalyptic overtones of upheaval and destruction. This is not exactly what we think of sweet baby Jesus in the manger, coming to us as a vulnerable child, the Son of God becoming the Son of Humanity.

Both, however, are part of the meaning of Advent, and both are equally necessary for us to consider. Advent celebrates and remembers Jesus’ coming in Bethlehem, but it also looks ahead and prepares us for Jesus’ coming in the future, when God’s reign will be brought to completion. In the in-between times, our times right now, he calls us to keep working: working toward Jesus’ vision of the world as a place of hope, joy, peace and love for all people, and working alongside the God whom we worship. The psalms this week offer some inspiration as we actively prepare for and participate in Jesus’ coming this Advent: Let us seek wisdom through reverent fear of God (Psalm 111.10).

Let us joyfully delight in God’s call and commandments (Psalms 111.2; 112.1).

Let us give freely and generously of ourselves to others and act with justice in all we do (Psalm 112.5, 9).

Let us join in God’s work of lifting the poor and the needy from the dust, and offering joy to the sorrowful (Psalm 113.7–9).

Let us, like the Lord, feed the hungry, gather outcasts, heal the brokenhearted, sing praises and hope in God’s steadfast love (Psalms 146–147).

Let us claim and embody the God of hope for the world. Amen.

Amanda Miller Assistant Professor of Biblical Studies

4

Monday, November 30  Psalms 1, 2, 3, 4, 7  Amos 2.6–16  Matthew 21.1–11  2 Peter 1.1–11 A few nights ago I found myself in a profound yet difficult theological conversation with my three-year old son. As I read him the story of creation, he stopped me, pointing to the beautiful stars and oceans in his illustrated Bible, he asked me, “Where’s God?” He loves the creation story, and at that moment he longed with all the purity and simplicity of a toddler to see the face of God who spoke the world to life. The Psalmist knows this desire, and that it is the desire of many, “Let the light of your face shine on us, O Lord!” But as you can imagine, it is not easy to explain how God’s life, power, and goodness, though invisible, are reflected in each of the stars that his little finger touched. Repeatedly, I had to say, “No, that’s not God,” growing intellectually and spiritually more desperate, wondering how I could meet the spiritual yearnings of my son, who simply longed to see the face of God. In the end, I flipped to the New Testament, pointing to a picture of Jesus, I said, “Where’s God? He’s in the face of Jesus.” My intellect told me I cheated. My heart felt relieved. I felt overwhelmingly thankful for a God who is not content to remain hidden but has given Himself over to be seen in the humble face of Jesus of Nazareth.

For me and my tender-hearted son, this is enough. It is enough because even at three, he looks at Jesus with eyes of faith, faith that sees the invisible life of the Father enfolding the created world. These optics of faith unfold in Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. If anyone has ever ridden a donkey, it is not a majestic sight. It is the picture of pitiful lowliness. Yet, for the children of Zion longing to see the coming of their God, faith opens their eyes to the light of salvation, the face of a king inaugurating the victory of life over suffering. In his epistle, Peter makes it clear that the eyes that behold God are indeed eyes of faith, faith strengthened by goodness, knowledge, self-control, mutual affection and love. Such eyes behold and even share in the divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ—what a glorious vision, what a glorious life! Let us put on faith and all that nurtures it, leaving behind our nearsighted vision of reality, that we may gaze and walk deeply into the humble yet glorious mystery of life.

Manuel Cruz Assistant Professor of Theology

5

Tuesday, December 1  Psalms 5, 6, 10, 11  Amos 3.1–11  Matthew 21.12–22  2 Peter 1.12–21 Have compassion on me, Lord, for I am weak.

Heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony.

I am sick at heart. How long, O Lord, until you restore me?

Return, O Lord, and rescue me.

Save me because of your unfailing love. (Psalm 6.2–4) There is such an excitement when we wait for any gift during this time, whether it is from a sweet, generous grandmother or a friend who has pushed us along on playground swings and through the adversities of life. My heart, soul and spirit wait on the Lord.

In this time of Advent, my heart recognizes the yearning for a savior, the longing call for a King who rescues us from darkness of this world, the evil authorities of the unseen world. As David calls in the psalm, our hearts have begun to prepare for the celebration of the birth of the Prince of Peace. Moreover, our hearts rejoice at the coming of a gift, the Light! We have an understanding of this pure joy that Christ, the full embodiment of a human and fully God, has humbled himself to walk among the lost, sick and hurting. This joy is rooted in a trust that he would come to fulfill the prophecies, to redeem, restore and empower His children. A trust that is woven through our faith, to understand what it means to be accepted into a family of Love. A faith founded purely on His Love, that swallows us in Truth, meeting us with the opportunity to live in the Light.

I pray as the season of Christmas comes near, we are like the children in the Temple; the temple in which Jesus knocked over tables, rebuked the wrongdoing, and declared the temple to be a place of worship.

May we recognize our King and respond as the children, rejoicing “Hosanna to the Son of David!” as we continue to see the work of our Savior in this broken world.“ That is why we never give up. “Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day” (2 Corinthians 4.16).

We can stand together in this family of Christ, firm in the armor of God rejoicing at this season of renewal. It is our recognition of the Son of God who is Light to us, that allows us to invite others into the Light as we shine with a joyful, waiting heart for the Lord.

Shanty Luna Junior, Christian Leadership and Social Work

6

Wednesday, December 2  Psalms 12, 13, 14, 119.1–24  Amos 3.12–4.5  Matthew 21.23–32  2 Peter 13.1–10 “But I trust…”

But I trust. Three simple words. Three powerful words. Three words that have the potential to absolutely change us in any situation we might ever find ourselves.

Psalm 13 is one of the many psalms attributed to King David. A man known for many things, but possibly most notably for being “a man after God’s own heart.” The stories we often hear about King David remind us of his unlikely rise to kingship, his undeniable heart for God, his wild success as a military leader and his role as the greatest king to have ever led Israel.

But one need only look a little deeper into the life of David to see that his life was not without struggle.

In Psalm 13 we read of a time when David’s life was in chaos. It does not state whether this was the season before he was king, and Saul (the first King of Israel) was jealous of David to the point he was trying to kill him, or if maybe this was the season of life late in David’s own kingship in which we read that his family was imploding and turning on him—as a result of his sinful acts involving Bathsheba and Uriah. What we do read in this psalm is that much of David’s life at this particular moment was out of control.

David is fearful and anxious and cannot understand why God feels so far off.

He feels alone in his struggle. He sounds overwhelmed by his sorrow. He struggles to see a way out or a way forward from his current set of circumstances.

But that is not the end of the story. Given what David was going through he could have stopped his lament and none of us would have thought any less of him. Right? Because we have been there. But in the midst of his pain, his struggle, his doubt—there comes a confession.

“But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me” (vs. 5–6).

David’s past experiences gave him a perspective for approaching his present circumstances (and future life) that was infused with hope, trust and peace. He knew God and knew God’s character, and he knew that this God who seemed so far off would most definitely come near again.

Guy Chmieleski University Minister

7

Thursday, December 3  Psalms 18.1–20, 18.21–50  Amos 4.6–13  Matthew 21.33–46  2 Peter 3.11–18 Growing up in Camden, Tennessee I did not need to go to a store to visit Santa Claus to tell him what I wanted for Christmas. Santa came to our house before Christmas to ask me what I wanted—honestly! One year Santa misunderstood my request and he had to return to our house in early January to correct his mistake. As a four-year-old, I wanted a chalkboard easel so that I could teach my imaginary friends. When I did not receive my requested chalkboard, I was crushed. However, Santa came through within a few days, explaining that the elves had gotten behind in the production of chalkboards.

I also remember Santa asking me the next year when I was a five-yearold if I had been a good boy. My response was: “No, but I am telling you the truth.” “Well,” said Santa taken aback momentarily, “telling the truth is the beginning of being a good person.”

Well over fifty years later, I can affirm, “Well said, Santa Claus.” I cannot say truthfully that I always have spoken the truth. My five-year-old self had a profound insight that my fifty-eight-year-old self needs to hear over and over.

Our readings from Holy Scripture for today are blunt in their truthfulness. The words challenge the corrupt and corrupting influence of unmitigated greed that plagues our corporate business culture. We have largely forgotten the message of Advent and we have turned this period between Thanksgiving and Christmas Day into a secular market fest of raw greed and premature celebration. Advent is traditionally a season for repentance to prepare us to celebrate Christmas with a clean heart and a clear mind. However, I fear that we would rather turn on the Christmas lights before Thanksgiving, forget that the Twelve Days of Christmas begin with Christmas Day rather than end with it, and distract ourselves from the movement of the Holy Spirit in the mysterious season of Advent.

Some may protest that I am a curmudgeon who needs to return to the magical joy I experienced as a child with Santa Claus. Let me say that I love so many of the customs and traditions of this season that are not strictly Advent-related. It is a fun season! Nevertheless, the “too muchness” robs us of the real joy to come with Christmas. I am not always good, but I am telling you the truth.

Marty Bell Professor of Religion

8

Friday, December 4  Psalms 16, 17, 22  Amos 5.1–17  Matthew 22.1–14  Jude 1–16 The Scripture assigned for today from Jude’s epistle is a doozy. It highlights things we seldom think about—especially during Advent.

First, Jude is very concerned that the gospel of Jesus is being lost: “Dear friends, although I was very eager to write to you about the salvation we share, I felt compelled to write and urge you to contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to God’s holy people” (v. 3).

It is striking that one generation after Jesus’ resurrection; people were already falsifying his message.

This was not being done by accident, but as an effort by some to turn the good news of Jesus into something that sounds better, but is in fact worse: “For certain individuals . . . have secretly slipped in among you. They 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). Jude is calling for us to be wary, since the gospel is a call to holiness, not a license to sin. The challenge is to embrace both the good news of Advent grace and forgiveness, and the good news that we have a Lord to love and obey fully.

Jude then brings up both sex and hell—topics far from our minds while setting up a manger scene: “Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding towns gave themselves up to sexual immorality and perversion. They serve as an example of those who suffer the punishment of eternal fire” (v. 7). We are shocked by this dramatic talk of judgment, because we forget that Advent celebrates not only the first coming of Jesus, but also his return: “See, the Lord is coming with thousands upon thousands of his holy ones to judge everyone, and to convict all of them of all the ungodly acts they have committed in their ungodliness, and of all the defiant words ungodly sinners have spoken against him” (vs. 14–15).

Christ came at the First Advent to transform us from the inside out, and now we live in light of his Second Coming, singing in Charles Wesley’s words: “Born thy people to deliver, born a child and yet a King, born to reign in us forever, now thy gracious kingdom bring. By thine own eternal spirit rule in all our hearts alone; by thine all sufficient merit, raise us to thy glorious throne.”

Todd Lake Vice President for Spiritual Development

9

Saturday, December 5  Psalms 20, 21.1–7, 110.1–7, 116, 117  Amos 5.18–27  Matthew 22.15–22  Jude 17–25 It is that time of year again, when the church holds its collective breath and waits to exhale, to breathe again, to sigh with relief and to rejoice that the Messiah has come. “Prepare ye the way of the Lord,” we sing.

We light candles, in honor of the light of the world; we read Mary’s Magnificat, to celebrate the birth of the Son of Humanity; we pray for “peace on earth, goodwill to all,” willing the world to be a hospitable home for the Prince of Peace. But mostly . . . we wait.

This is not an easy time of year for many people. Some do not breathe a sigh of relief when the holidays are upon us; some have trouble making out the pinprick of candlelight when the darkness seems so crushing; some cannot imagine the peace this Prince is supposed to bring, immersed as our world is in turmoil. For some, the hopeful anticipation of this season feels a lot more like anxiety.

Christmastime means getting together with friends and family members, and many experience the joyful expectation of longawaited reunions with those who know us best. For others, though, this involves seeing those with whom our relationships are messy and a touch dramatic; the ones with whom we have boundary issues; the ones with whom it is difficult to have a dialogue—like the religious leaders, in one of today’s passages, who are looking not for a transformative conversation but only for a fight (Matt. 22.15). Holiday gatherings with even those we love the most can open old wounds.

The hearers of Amos’ words had trauma and tragedy, exile and annihilation, and broken relationships with both kinsfolk and Yahweh in their collective memory. I would venture to guess that they had trouble imagining a darker day than ones they had already seen.

Nonetheless, the melancholy prophet insists that the “day of the Lord . . . is darkness, not light . . .with no brightness in it” (Amos 5.18, 20).

When I read these words, however, I cannot help but think of the profound, unimaginable, penetrating darkness in which the Spirit, the Breath, is said to have hovered (in anticipation, I like to think, but maybe with a touch of anxiety) over the face of the deep (Gen. 1.1–2), just waiting for God to say the word and break in with that first light, that first hope.

Perhaps the darkness is not such a bad place to wait after all.

Beth Ritter-Conn Lecturer in Religion

10

Week Two King of kings, yet born of Mary, as of old on earth He stood, Lord of lords, in human vesture, in the body and the blood; He will give to all the faithful His own self for heavenly food.

11

Sunday, December 6  Psalms 114, 115, 148, 149, 150  Amos 6.1–14  Luke 1.57–68  2 Thessalonians 1.5–12 Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth, and she bore a son. (Luke 1.57) About two years ago, when a couple in our neighborhood found out they were pregnant, they entered a time of feverish activity in home improvement. Trips to the hardware store ensued, to paint shops, comparing and contrasting colors, paintbrushes, and ladders, all for the transformation they wanted to bring about in the home office that was suddenly becoming the baby’s bedroom. Gone was the desk to make room for the crib.

Another couple we are friends with went even further in their initial preparations: not only would the walls get a new coat of paint and some home office furniture be displaced, for their new arrival the whole room was transformed into a magical place, the baby’s name stenciled on the wall, complete with pictures of animals dancing around the room.

In addition to being on a first name basis with the clerks at Sherwin Williams and Home Depot, the expectant couples we know quickly become acquainted with the Craigslist ads for baby furniture; they make phone calls to other friends for hand-me-downs. And if our friends have parents who come into town, they wait until those visits for the inevitable retail shopping trips for baby clothes and all of the equipment that is apparently needed to raise a child in America today— young husband and wife hopeful that the baby’s new grandparents will pick up the tab on high-priced items, those designer booties— and if lucky, even the tab for that obscenely priced stroller that has a better suspension on it than most cars.

As I think about our friends who have had babies already, and as my wife and I enter that time in our lives when we’re thinking of expanding our family with a new life or four, I wonder sometimes how much all this activity is for the baby and how much of it is for the parents. The preparation of these spaces, it seems, is really part of the preparation of the heart for new parents, a way of marking and preparing for this transition, a way of reshaping external and internal spaces to make room for new life.

Lord, make of our hearts a fitting home for what is being born in our lives. Amen.

Donovan McAbee Assistant Professor of Religion and the Arts

12

Monday, December 7  Psalms 9, 15, 25  Amos 7.1–9  Matthew 22.23–33  Jude1.1–8 He is God not of the dead, but of the living. (Matthew 22.32b) I have been thinking quite a bit lately about joy. I do not mean momentary happiness that is fleeting, but true, deep joy. You might find this unusual, but I have been thinking about joy because I have been cleaning my house. Recently I read a book that suggests touching each item in my home and asking “does this spark joy?” It works pretty well as a method for cleaning my house, but it is particularly wonderful as a preparation for Advent and the upcoming Christmas season.

It is obviously helpful to clean out one’s home before Christmas because most of us receive more possessions during Christmas. And ridding ourselves of the clothes and books and other things that don’t bring us joy is a great idea. Surrounding ourselves with joyful possessions brings a kind of joy. This is our first metaphor for Advent.

In this theory of cleaning house, donating possessions means sending those possessions out into the world to give joy to someone else.

This, in turn, comes back around and brings us joy because we know that we have brought joy to others. I like this idea when it comes to our belongings. It is our second metaphor for Advent.

Thinking of these two metaphors for Advent, we learn that we should surround ourselves with joy and we should send that joy out into the world. If we want to be people who experience joy, we need to figure out how to surround ourselves with joy and how to send it out into the world.

I am struck by the text from Matthew 22 that emphasizes God being a living God who is interested in us, who are alive. This is a great reason to rejoice!

What surrounds you with the joy of the Lord today? Is it studying the Bible? Listening to the Beatles? Running? Praying? Singing?

Laughing? Thinking about Jesus’ first coming and His second?

And what can you send out into the world so others will experience joy? It might be your belongings, but more than that, it might be sending yourself into the world to be an ambassador for joy. As you do your metaphorical housecleaning, think about what will bring you joy and what you want to send out into the world to bring joy to others.

Ann Coble Lecturer in Religion

13

Tuesday, December 8  Psalms 26, 28, 36, 39  Amos 7.10–17  Matthew 22.34–46  Revelation 1.9–16 You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart…you shall love your neighbor as yourself. (Mark 12.30–31) This exchange between Jesus and the Pharisees is a good example of how Jesus embodied his message. They ask a trick question, theoretical, divorced from life: which is the greatest of the commandments?

Somehow Jesus has the grace to take them seriously with his reply: love God. But he introduces a dimension that has eluded them: heart and soul. Love God with all your heart and all your soul. They are trapped because they do not live on this level of heart and soul, a level of honesty and vulnerability.

It is not so simple to love God, that invisible, mysterious presence which seems to withhold as well as to give. How do we love such?

The Indian saint Ramakrishna was told one day by an older woman, “I find that I cannot love God.” To which he replied, “What then do you love?” She responded, “My little nephew.” To which he concluded, “And therein is your love for God.” I think we love God when it dawns on us that our existence is contingent (we did not have to be) and when it dawns on us that we are being accompanied. When that fills us from head-to-toe, we begin to dwell at the corner of Wonder and Gratitude.

Jesus adds a footnote: love your neighbor as yourself. He once again moves beyond a technical discussion. Love always has a face, often a face we do not anticipate. I think love follows the sequence of (a) seeing (b) comprehending (c) identifying with (d) responding to concretely. That trajectory follows the incarnational path of Jesus.

The face-of-neighbor for me is Mike, the homeless artist at the dangerous intersection of Hillsboro and Harding Place. We talk about his latest drawing or poem and I reach for my billfold. His life-scarred countenance bears for me the marks of the image of God. I can no longer drive past him.

Mother Teresa said, “Do small things with great love.” Augustine said, “Love God and do as you please.” Franny and Zoey said, “Do it for the Fat Lady.” And who is the Fat Lady? It’s Jesus himself, hidden in our neighbor. No wonder this spiritual life is like an Easter Egg hunt, except the Egg is searching for us.

Ben Curtis Professor of Religion

14

Wednesday, December 9  Psalms 38, 119.25–48  Amos 8.1–14  Matthew 23.1–12  Revelation 1.17–2.7 The act of waiting can be difficult. Anticipating payday when one is running short on money is tough. Expecting to hear back from your interview or application can be daunting. Waiting for the new season of a show to finally appear on Netflix is challenging!

The act of waiting can be difficult. A woman wanting to escape the hands of her domestic abuser knows waiting is tough. For the father attempting to provide for his family with an inadequate subsistence, anticipating the day they are not beneath the poverty line, is unnerving.

The families from the Emanuel A.M.E. Church in Charleston, SC that wait for the healing of wounds can attest that waiting for restoration is a challenging undertaking.

The act of waiting can be difficult. The abhorrent and callous world in which we live can create an atmosphere where waiting even seems counter-cultural. When one considers persistent issues of race relations, gender and sexuality, economic crises, ecological desolation, and increased senseless acts of violence, waiting appears useless!

The Psalmist writes in his distress, pleading for God not to forsake him.

David pens in verse fifteen of the 38th Psalm, “But for you, O Lord, do I wait; it is you, O Lord my God, who will answer.” Even in David’s world of discontent and heartache, he is waiting for God to come, and he is expecting that the ever-loving God will have the answer.

The act of waiting can be difficult. But in this season of Advent, which we share, let us not be overtaken by the woes of the world and let us not lose hope. Let us rejoice in waiting, for those that wait for the Lord shall renew their strength (Isaiah 40.31). This time reminds us that a Savior is coming—the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Even in a world where it might appear that hope is lost, we expect a Messiah to come and bring this word to us: Proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. (Luke 4.18-19) Emmanuel! Emmanuel! Emmanuel! God is with us.

Corwin Davis Senior, Christian Leadership

15

Thursday, December 10  Psalms 37.1–18, 37.19–42  Amos 9.1–10  Matthew 23.13–26  Revelation 2.8–17 Christmas has always been an opportunity to gather together and share time with my family. I remember enjoying stories being shared between relatives without ever taking the time to find out exactly how individuals were related. Christmas continues to be a way of staying connected as the family has spread from one small town in northwest Florida to cover most of the southeast.

I was struck by this aspect of Christmas by a couple of verses from Amos in the Devotional readings above: I will wipe Israel off the face of the earth, But I will never completely destroy Jacob’s family. (Amos 9.8) This passage resonated strongly because of the idea that while people may become scattered, families will stay together. The Christmas of 2004 was unlike any other for my wife Liz and me because illness kept us away from our family. We woke up Christmas Eve by ourselves in an old unfamiliar house we had just bought in Uptown NOLA. The grey skies would eventually dump an inch plus of snow bringing all travel to a halt. The morning stillness brought us to the front porch to listen to the street cars rumbling down St. Charles Avenue and the ships fighting their way up the river. To our surprise, family began to show up. Cousins from Washington D.C. made a detour by car and neighbors dropped by. We all wound up on an unscheduled river boat trip up the Mississippi to see the Christmas Eve bonfires. The next day more close friends brought their families by the house with food and presents in tow. We were even ding-dong-ditched with the first king cake of the season.

It was the most unusual Christmas we have ever had, but it was a warmup for the following year. Our daughter, Zoe, was born in February and Katrina put a couple of feet of water in our house the following August.

It would take years for us to recover but those same neighbors who shared so generously with us that Christmas would form a new family.

We all evacuated together and shared the generosity of extended family. We were referred to as refugees but in the end we benefited from the generosity of so many people. We moved back together, shared homes, rebuilt our houses, took care of children and became part of a new city. It felt like our home had been wiped off the face of the earth. But we learned again that there is the family you are born into, and there is the family of the community in which you live and they both bring blessings and show us concretely how God’s love is at work in our lives.

Thom Spence Dean, College of Sciences and Mathematics

16

Friday, December 11  Psalms 31, 35  Haggai 1.1–15  Matthew 23.27–39  Revelation 2.18–29 Now therefore thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider how you have fared. You have sown much, and harvested little; you eat, but you never have enough; you drink, but you never have your fill; you clothe yourselves, but no one is warm; and you that earn wages earn wages to put them into a bag with holes. Thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider how you have fared. Go up to the hills and bring wood and build the house, so that I may take pleasure in it and be honored, says the Lord. You have looked for much, and, lo, it came to little; and when you brought it home, I blew it away. Why? says the Lord of hosts. Because my house lies in ruins, while all of you hurry off to your own houses. (Haggai 1.5–9 (NRSV)) God frequently asks us to examine where we stand. This is how I view God’s question to the leaders of the Jewish exiles. “Where do you stand?” God asks. Put another way: “Who do you identify with?” and, “What are you committed to?”

When we examine ourselves, hindsight often helps. We can see how our actions were wrong. This is the position of the Jewish writers struggling to make sense of their suffering. Their identity and commitments to that other than God brought exile, they reason. Where is God, they wonder? Blowing away what little home rehabilitation the people accomplish, apparently. Even the heavens and earth are against them, withholding its dew and produce (v. 10).

Yet the people miss the point. God is not the final cause of the situation; they are. They lack respect for the “framework” of flourishing, to borrow a term from philosopher Charles Taylor. They have lost sight of the background for living in relationships with respect, flourishing, and dignity. Instead of covenant, righteousness and justice they have brought the patterns of empire back to Israel.

I teach in prison, a place where the patterns of empire are very evident. Aggressive control and the selfishness of survival are norms.

Yet, because we “hurry off to our own houses” we are blind to it. True, our circumstance is different than in Haggai’s time. We are drunk with the commodities of production. In hindsight we feel justified in our isolations . . . they are deserved blessings.

Immanuel, heal our misplaced hindsight this season.

Andy Watts Associate Professor of Religion

17

Saturday, December 12  Psalms 32, 42, 43  Haggai 2.1–9  Matthew 24.1–14  Revelation 3.1–6 In China, Chinese New Year is the biggest and the most important holiday. One month prior to the coming of the festival, people start to make preparations for it. Parents shop for new clothes for children, buy various food and snacks, and give the house a thorough cleaning. Sons and daughters working in the cities away from home are eager to book their train or plane tickets so that they can reach home and be with their parents for a family reunion on the eve of the New Year. Everyone is overwhelmed with happiness! I experienced all of this excitement and reveled in its celebrations from my childhood, and I still hold vivid and fond memories of those many days together as a family.

Then starting from 2003 when I came to the United States following my commitment to Christ, things have changed. Instead of celebrating Chinese New Year as usual as in China, I have joined my friends in their homes or at church in the celebration of Christmas. Family has taken on a new meaning to me. While my earthly family will always be dear to me, I am now part of the family of God. I have a heavenly father who is the creator of the universe and loves me unconditionally.

I have a host of brothers and sisters who follow the Lord and care for each other.

This does not mean that I have forgotten the Chinese New Year tradition and its deep message about family. It means that the coming of Jesus is the bringing together of all persons into a family. At first, upon my arrival in the U.S., I saw Christmas only as an important holiday and an occasion for family reunion like Chinese New Year; by and by I realized that the true meaning for Christmas goes far beyond the gifts under the tree, the lights in the yard and the turkey on the table. As a matter of fact, the birth of Jesus Christ is the quintessential center of our celebration! Christmas is the occasion for families to gather in a grand reunion of happiness like in China at New Year, but it also brings us the hope, joy and love that heal our families and inspire them with purpose and meaning! The birth of Christ announces to the whole world that people will not live in the darkness any more but will have a Savior and Messiah! As our Lord summons us, “Rejoice in the Lord and be glad, you righteous; sing, all you who are upright in heart!” (Psalm 32.11) Christmas is a season of great joy, and Jesus is the reason for this season!

Qingjun (Joan) Li Assistant Professor of Asian Studies and Chinese

18

Week Three Rank on rank the host of heaven spreads its vanguard on the way, as the Light of light descendeth from the realms of endless day, that the powers of hell may vanquish, as the darkness clears away.

19

Sunday, December 13  Psalms 63.1–8, 98, 103  Amos 9.11–15  John 5.30–47  2 Thessalonians 2.1–3, 13–17 Advent is one of my favorite seasons of the church calendar. For me, it offers a respite from the noise and bustle of the traditional secular Christmas season—Frosty, roasting chestnuts, jingle bells, shopping, parties, and did I mention Santa?

Today marks the third Sunday of Advent, Gaudete Sunday. In Latin, Gaudete means “Rejoice,” and worship observing an Advent season offers the believer a time to joyously celebrate the first coming of Christ in his incarnation while somberly waiting and preparing for his second coming in glory as judge.

In our gospel reading today from John 5 and a few verses earlier, Jesus lays out his relationship with the Father to the Jewish leaders after being persecuted for healing on the Sabbath.

For as the Father has life in himself, so he has granted the Son also to have life in himself. And he has given him authority to judge because he is the Son of Man. Do not be amazed at this, for a time is coming when all who are in their graves will hear his voice and come out—those who have done what is good will rise to live, and those who have done what is evil will rise to be condemned. By myself I can do nothing; I judge only as I hear, and my judgment is just, for I seek not to please myself but him who sent me. (vs. 26–30)

As someone who enjoys altar art from the Middle Ages, the terms judgment and end times conjure a somewhat frightening mental image at first blush—not something I would typically think of as joyful.

However, as I ponder the overwhelming love of God for humankind, I am overcome with peace and great joy.

Very truly I tell you; whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be judged but has crossed over from death to life. (v. 24)

We can have confidence and joy if we still ourselves to hear the voice of Jesus and believe in the Father who sent him. John 3.16 is one of the most beloved of all verses in the Bible: God loved humankind so much he sent Jesus to us so that if we believe in him we would enjoy everlasting life. It is that simple. That to me is truly joyful!

The Episcopal Book of Common Prayer’s Collect appointed for the Nativity of Our Lord: Christmas Day is shocking to me every time I hear it, and I find myself frequently thinking of it: O God, you make us glad by the yearly festival of the birth of your only Son Jesus Christ: Grant that we, who joyfully receive him as Redeemer, may with sure confidence behold him when he comes to be our Judge; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit one God, now and forever.

Rejoice, Rejoice, Emmanuel shall come to thee O Israel.

Come, Lord Jesus. Amen.

Steve Lasley Vice President of Finance and Operations 20

Monday, December 14  Psalms 41, 44, 52  Zechariah 1.7–17  Matthew 24.15–31  Revelation 3.7–13 I know that the season of Advent is supposed to be one of expectation and excitement. It is intended to be a time of anticipation as we wait for the day when we remember the coming of the infant Jesus.

But to be perfectly honest, I am not feeling so hopeful this year.

Instead of being filled with expectation and anticipation during this season of joy, I find myself deeply weary. My season in life is one of longing, but it is not a sense of longing that is tinged with happiness or wonder. It is a longing that asks when suffering will end.

I have dear friends in this season of longing and waiting with me. There are job losses and sick parents. There is a father who is now elderly and is no longer the jovial man who helps decorate the Christmas tree. There is also the father who is unemployed and wondering if he will be able to support his family. There are spouses who are ill and cancer that has returned. There is a different kind of waiting. There’s a waiting for results from medical tests and waiting for a difficult season to pass.

These friends and I have conversations about how to feel joyful about the gift of life even when a sense of happiness is not present in our daily lives.

This year, I find comfort and indeed joy in knowing that I am simply part of the long story of humanity. The psalmist laments that the Lord’s face is hidden and offers us the image of sinking down into the very dust from which we came. The Gospel writer offers warnings to those who are pregnant or nursing infants, referencing what biblical scholars agree is a reflection on the trying times surrounding the destruction of Jerusalem by Rome.

These passages do not end with only dire warnings about great calamities. They do not end without hope. The psalmist pleads for God’s redemptive power, and the Gospel writer envisions the triumphant coming of the Son of Man. The central idea is that even when we do not feel it, God is with us, a constant and loving presence. That sense of anticipation for the coming of Immanuel is what we cling to, for the God that comes and then suffers with us, and who never stops loving us, no matter what befalls us.

My friends embody this for me, too, in our community. There is joy in togetherness and in the belief that time will bring new periods of happiness to balance the times of suffering.

So, as I reflect on the season of Advent this year, I do have peace. My peace comes from thinking of the whole of Jesus’s story, a story full of suffering, joy and love.

Sally Holt Professor of Religion 21

Tuesday, December 15  Psalms 45, 47, 48  Zechariah 2.1–13  Matthew 24.32–44  Revelation 3.14–22 Advent—the Latin term adventus which means “coming”—is a religious season preparing for the coming of Jesus Christ on the occasion of Christmas. As the Greek term parousia, equivalent to the Latin term adventus, hints at the second coming of Jesus, Advent bring us to the recollection of the past when Jesus was born and the expectation of the future when he will come again.

In the celebration of the coming of Jesus in the past and future, we may raise this simple but ultimate question as to who Jesus is for us indeed. Jesus Christ, the incarnate Son of God, came and will come again as “the King of all the earth” (Psalms 47.7). Read in this light, we are all his people living in the kingdom of God. As a subject of the Kingdom of God as represented by Jesus, I always wonder what kind of kingdom He enacts on this earth, particularly in consideration of marginalized people in a global world. As Psalms 45.6 suggests, there is no doubt that Jesus announces the justice of God’s Kingdom for those oppressed in a dominant society.

This belief in a just world yet to be created by Jesus is one of the reasons I am so excited to wait for his coming. Looking back upon my youth as a pastor’s kid, I still have an unforgettable memory of a tragic story not long before Christmas. As my father worked for a church in the slums in South Korea, I was destined to observe a miserable life lived by those on the periphery. To my shock, my friend passed away due to extreme poverty; simply put, he died because he was too poor to go to the hospital. Not only that, we all know how many people die of hunger even today all over the world.

Ironically, this unjust world makes us all the more enthusiastic about the coming of Jesus and his kingdom of justice for all his people.

Let us rejoice in the season of Advent in the expectation that Jesus Christ will open a door of hope for a just world for those fighting the suffering and injustice in the world.

Sung Uk Lim Lecturer in Religion

22

Wednesday, December 16  Psalms 49, 119.49–72  Zechariah 3.1–10  Matthew 24.45–51  Revelation 4.1–8 Jesus had left the temple and returned to the Mount of Olives. His disciples had gathered around to ask a question: What sign could they expect of Jesus’ coming and the end of the age? In typical fashion, Jesus answers their question indirectly through a series of parables, including one about the Faithful and Wicked Slaves.

Jesus begins with a question—“Who then is the faithful and wise slave?” He describes two slaves who had been put in charge while the master is gone. The reliable one does the work expected of him and is blessed accordingly. The other, seeing his master is absent, makes two mistakes. Mistake #1: he misbehaves. He overindulges in drink and food with the drunkards and abuses his fellow slaves. Mistake #2: he assumes his master will not return. In effect, he stops looking for his master and he stops waiting for his master.

What does this mean for us as we await the coming of the Christ child?

Well, first, the difference between the two servants is not just between obedience and disobedience. It is between wisdom and foolishness.

Wisdom here means waiting in expectation—being on the lookout at any time for the living God to show up. Barbara Brown Taylor says she had a professor who joked that the Second Coming of Christ was cooked up by an early church father who had only two fingers. God has not limited the number of God’s comings into our world. In this Advent season, we wait for Christ’s birth, but the reality is, if we stay alert and take note, Christ comes over and over to us in moments of daily life.

Wisdom is also in the good work of living prepared. Jesus does not explain what the good work was that sustained the wise slave through the waiting, but his follow up to this parable in the Judgment of Nations clarifies what Jesus means by it and how he wants us to use time as well. In this public scene of final reckoning, the judgment on the sheep and goats hinges on seeing and responding to Christ in the suffering of others. In response to his disciples’ original question asking Jesus for a sign of the end times, perhaps Jesus is telling the disciples that the sign is they will have the time to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, give drink to the thirsty, and care for the sick and those in prison.

This Advent, may we wait with eyes peeled for moments of Christ’s comings and live prepared.

Cynthia Curtis Assistant Professor of Religion

23

Thursday, December 17  Psalms 33, 50  Zechariah 4.1–14  Matthew 25.1–13  Revelation 4.9–5.5 Today’s readings remind us that it is an everyday do-over discerning light from darkness. God reigns, we are assured throughout the biblical canon, but it is as if the good news of how God reigns—and will yet reign in the land of the living—is elusive, ever-changing, and ever-demanding of new feats of attentiveness on the part of the God-seeking community. Walter Brueggemann tells us that this news is relentlessly narratival, a mobile army of metaphors, in one sense, an occasion for fresh imagery and lyricization at every turn. And our readings bear that insight out.

“Sing to God a new song,” admonishes the psalmist (33.3). And the canon follows suit. Does God delight in the ritual sacrifices described in Leviticus? Not anymore (if ever) according to our psalm: “Do I eat the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats? Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving” (50.13–14). Images of God’s earth-shaking, mountain-melting prerogatives abound in scripture, but Zechariah sings a different song on God’s behalf: “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord” (Zechariah 4.6).

A commitment to renewed imagination and resilient expectation concerning the work of God’s spirit and the way it blows contrary to whatever it is we think we have in mind might be one way of characterizing the oil the waiting bridesmaids are expected to have in abundance at every moment in Jesus’ parable concerning the coming of God in Matthew’s gospel. It appears among a series of analogies Jesus offers in view of the times when “the love of many will grow cold” (24.12). Like each of our readings, it addresses a meaning crisis to which wakefulness both general and specific but also necessarily agnostic (not knowing what’s ahead or when) is the only prescribed remedy.

And we are assured meaning crises to come as we await God’s final righting of human disorder. The one who is worthy to open the scroll that would give cosmic meaning to human history is still elusive in our passage from John’s Apocalypse (5.4). And when the worthy party does appear, the slaughtered Lamb is a complete opposite to the Lion promised in the preceding verse (5.5–6). True power and wisdom, we are made to see, are contrary to what we have been prone to credit as worthy. May we develop a love for such strangeness, for the overcoming of our preferred expectations, in the days to come.

David Dark Assistant Professor of Religion and the Arts

24

Friday, December 18  Psalms 40, 51, 54  Zechariah 7.8–8.8  Matthew 25.14–30  Revelation 5.6–14 In the verses just preceding today’s reading from Revelation 5.1–5, John weeps bitterly “because no one was found worthy to open the scroll in the hand of God or even to look inside it.” John was no drama king: years earlier, he had recorded the gruesome details of the Lord’s crucifixion in terse, minimalist language. What could have made a man like that weep inconsolably just because a book couldn’t be opened?

Here in the scroll seems to be sealed the secret to the universe whose inaccessibility is a sentence of grim futility, life as a cruel joke eternally played out upon its helpless inhabitants. John is comforted by an angel who assures him that the Lion of Judah, the Root of David, terms of Messianic conquest and rule, has won the right to open the scroll.

There is paradox in these passages: we are directed to look at a Lion and what we see is a Lamb with marks of slaughter. We look for a victory and see that the victory was won through sacrificial death. It is through the lens of these paradoxes that the other passages for today take on a clarity and depth which they are not likely to have otherwise.

In the passages from Psalms 40 and 51 and Zechariah, the emphasis is on the fact that, in Chesterton’s words, “we become taller when we bow.” It is not through the performances of self-serving rites and rituals that we humans “open the scroll” of life’s meaning but from ever closer identification with God, His character of holy love and His purposes in this world and the next. The God who defines love longs for His love to be received and returned freely by those He has perfectly created and redeemed to do so.

We look and see both Lion and Lamb: we hold these two in our imaginations by the Holy Spirit’s help in an integrated whole where one image’s potency in no way diminishes the potency of the other.

We bow and we grow tall in Him, the bowing and the growing in an organic interdependence as natural to our new selves in Him as height and weight grow together in a healthy child. We repent and that opens a gateway for the King of Glory to come in. We are sorry for our sins and that opens the door to His knocking.

Ruby Dunlap Professor of Nursing

25

Saturday, December 19  Psalms 8, 24, 29, 84  Genesis 3.8–15  John 3.16–21  Revelation 12.1-10 The voice of the LORD strikes with flashes of lightning. (Psalm 29.7) The Advent season is not a quiet one. The Christmas songs are inescapable and it seems as if the holiday rush will cater to us all, including the non-religious. The reasons behind the madness are many, but the result is uniform: we are caught in distraction. The list of chores preceding the new year tend to pile up with renewed urgency and the planning of the following year invites itself onto our already full plates.

The previous months suddenly seem as if they were well spaced and timely due to the rapid nature of December as well as the tests and presentations that it brings. In the midst of the madness, peacefulness may seem removed and replaced with burdens and obligations that cannot wait. It does not seem accidental that one of the most joyous occasions on the Christian calendar is celebrated during the busiest time of the year. Is the Lord heard from the depths of our busyness?

Do we invite Him into our stress and anxiety as Helper and Comforter?

Better is one day in Your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the House of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked. (Psalm 84.10) Where do we dwell when we are drowning in the tasks at hand? It is likely that we take on more than we can handle in the final month of the year and the true meaning of Christmas often seems to be reduced to a single “x.” It is easy to allow self-awareness to become increasingly distracting, too, during the Christmas season. Preparation for a new year calls for self-examination in order to evaluate possible changes and resolutions to be made. While this is all well it is crucial to remember that our busyness does not compare to the urgency of Jesus’ birth. It is important to ask if we are preparing ourselves for a celebration as opposed to simply passing through the final season of the year. The birth of Jesus is the fulfillment of multiple prophecies dating back all the way to the book of Genesis. So whether you find a free hour for reading or ten minutes to study the Word daily, devote your time to the Lord with all of your heart and mind. Celebrate the sacrifice.

Graham Gonzales Senior, Religious Studies and Spanish

26

Week Four At His feet the six-winged seraph; cherubim, with sleepless eye, veil their faces to the Presence, as with ceaseless voice they cry, “Alleluia! Alleluia!

Alleluia! Lord Most High!”

27

Sunday, December 20  Psalms 61, 62, 112, 115  Zephaniah 3.14–20  Luke 1.1–25  Titus 1.1–16 I have always loved Christmas, because it is the time of year that not only is it acceptable to believe in the impossible, but it is encouraged.

I remember when I was about five years old I woke to my parents’ excited voices on Christmas morning. My mother told me to rush to the back window where I was surprised to find what I was convinced could be no other than the track marks of Santa’s sleigh in the snow.

Years later I learned that my father had dragged our six foot by four foot picnic table around the yard so that the iron curved legs tearing through the snow would later resemble tracks to excite my childhood imagination. I love this story, because it reminds me of the amazing possibilities found when daring to believe. It reminds me what it was like to have childlike wonder.

There is a reason why our favorite Christmas movies are filled with Santa landing on our rooftops or in our backyards; they remind us to believe in the possibility of the impossible. Though Hollywood has overly embellished the idea of Christmas magic, these images can serve as a reminder for us to hope in the impossible and dare to believe.

Zechariah and Elizabeth trusted in God’s promise that they would beget John the Baptist even in their old age; therefore, their faith enabled God’s will to take hold in the world. Their son became the man the angel promised Zechariah he would be (Luke 1.16–17); therefore, his parents’ childlike faith enabled John to pave the way for Jesus’ coming into the world.

When we are willing to believe in the impossibility of Jesus, unthinkable magic can happen. Santa may not land on your rooftop, but, even better, someone may come to know the love of Christ. The Christmas story reminds us that anything is possible. Our Savior was born in a manger, and yet he is the Lord of our lives, ruling with love and hope.

So, as you see what could have been Santa’s sleigh tracks this season dare to let your imagination wander, remember the power of believing in the impossible, so that you may leave your own tracks in the snow, paving the way for others to come to know Jesus and be embraced by the love of our Triune God. Kate Harris Alumna, College of Theology & Christian Ministry

28

Monday, December 21  Psalms 66, 67, 116, 117  1 Samuel 2.1b–10  Luke 1.26–38  Titus 2.1–10 The texts for this day hold out images of reversal for those who lack power. The Song of Hannah in 1 Samuel 2 and the Annunciation narrative in Luke 1:26-38 do this in complicated ways. In both cases the reversal is linked to the birth of a child to a beleaguered woman, but soon both texts are dabbling with royal power.

The LORD will judge the ends of the earth; he will give strength to his king, and exalt the power of his anointed. (1 Samuel 2.10b) The Lord will give him the throne of his ancestor David. (Luke 1.32b) Royal power seems to be part of the societal sickness each text addresses, a source of the inequality they decry, so how can it also be part of the solution? Many centuries of subsequent history have demonstrated how easily those who overthrow the powerful can become just as oppressive as those they overthrew. The best visions we have for the world are still dependent upon the wielding of power.

Both of these texts demonstrate the powerful tension between power and transformation and they refuse any easy resolution of that tension.

Last summer I visited the traditional site of the Annunciation in Nazareth and the Nativity in Bethlehem with Belmont students in a study abroad program. These sites today struggle with a tension similar to that found in the texts above. They recall the humility of Mary and Jesus, but they depend upon their power to draw tourists for their support. Tourists push and shove to visit these sites, and only those with significant financial means have the opportunity. People visiting for the first time, including my students, are often disappointed that they cannot have a quieter, more private experience. The desire to possess disrupts the original intent of a place, an event, or a movement. A place we consider to be “holy,” turns out to be as human as all places.

Perhaps this should remind us that Jesus came to these places as a human being. So, we return each year to the season of Advent, because the coming of Jesus into our world can never be finished exposing our desire for power and control.

Mark McEntire Professor of Biblical Studies

29

Tuesday, December 22  Psalms 72, 111, 113  2 Samuel 7.1–17  Luke 1.39–48a  Titus 2.11–3.8a But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us. (Titus 3.4–5) Let the mountains bear prosperity for your people, and the hills, in righteousness . . . may he be like rain that falls on the mown grass, like showers that water the earth! (Psalm 72.3, 6) What does the coming of Christ mean? Why would Christ even come at all?

There is a recurrent, steady act of “coming” from God to people woven throughout our story. At first, God intended to be with humans intimately in the cool of a garden. After a tragic fall, God was not done.

God did not throw up his hands. In short, God was not us. God then called Moses up upon the mountain that was his. God came further in a dwelling place among the people, settling his restful, rooted presence within a nomadic, uprooted people. Soon enough, God came as one of us—flesh and all. Temptation, blood, water, skin, love, laughter, death, joy, family and friends, coming and going.

When we think of Jesus’ Gospel, we often forget that it all would not have taken place without the beginning, the coming. The arrival of Jesus Christ on earth changed and continues to change everything.

“When the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us”—in other words, when Christ comes, nothing stays the same. Christ’s coming encompasses the totality of our being.

Whether it be our salvation or the food in front of us on Christmas morning, Christ’s coming is the source of life, in the big and the small, for his sheep.

What a beautiful Master we have who would usher himself into our world and want to start from scratch. I can only imagine the night that He was born. No word truly comes to mind except a silencing, paralyzing peace, a rest that sings a heavenly lullaby to generations restless in sin, whole people groups whose eyes are sore from iniquitous insomnia.

In Hebrew, “Shalom,” often translated “peace,” was not a meditative sense of serenity. “Shalom” concerns the entirety of a human life and soul. Indeed, both our lives and souls are changed by the peace of Jesus that is good will to men and women everywhere. In this season, we get to remember that this kingdom peace only requires our eyes on our Jesus quietly stirring in a manger. Know the peace of Jesus.

Trevor Black Senior, Biblical Studies

30

Wednesday, December 23  Psalms 93, 96, 148, 150  Isaiah 61.1–11  Luke 1.67–80  Galatians 3.15–22 Generation to generation Israel waited for their Savior to come. Through God’s promise to Abraham, fourteen generations later through David, fourteen generations later to those exiled to Babylon, and fourteen generations later to the Messiah. The waited for the celebration of redemption, renewal, promise, fulfillment of the holy covenant and hope for their future. Countless times Israel turned away on the journey to Jesus’ salvation, and God pursued relentlessly, making a way and fulfilling His promise through His Son. This hope passed through generations remembering God showing up, pursuing Israel, with reminders of His goodness, committing to His promise of fulfilling their needs—finally brought to fruition in the promise and joy of Messiah. Christmas—a celebration of all generations, from long ago, and yet to come.

For me and my extended family, Christmas is a time of gathering and remembering. We celebrate each other, our love for family members’ influence in our lives, and remember grandparents who set traditions long ago before most of us were born. We cherish traditions of laughter, sharing good food, presenting a gift to our “pulled a name out of a hat” relative and attending Christmas Eve candle light service together. Our connecting around life is life-giving itself.

There is a sense of coming together, a building and weaving of our lives over years, a community of celebrating what Christ means to us individually and collectively. Our clan is 40-something people strong—a loud laughing raucous, and a reverent and thankful “singing off key in church” type of group, with little kiddos clamoring to be on the front row so they can get up and do a little Christmas jig when the music picks up. Our Christmas is a time when my soul rests, I remember and I become grateful. Grateful that I too am part of those generations of old that waited on their Savior, and He showed up; grateful that I am a part of the generations of today slipping on the front row in a celebratory jig with the kiddos; and grateful that I can participate in creating traditions for tomorrow, for the celebration of Jesus in lives to come.

Jesus come into our life, renew, create new avenues of remembering and celebrating as we too take part in bringing Christ to the world.

Jill Robinson Director of External Relations and Executive Learning Networks The Jack C. Massey College of Business

31

Thursday, December 24  Psalms 45, 46  Isaiah 59.15b–21  Matthew 1.18–25  Galatians 3.23–4.7 At Advent, it is right and completely appropriate that we would be focused on and fascinated with Jesus—the one who is, plainly, the very center of Christian faith. It is easy, however, to overlook another Divine Actor who plays a critical role in the Christmas story: the Holy Spirit.

The New Testament scholar Gordon Fee refers to the Holy Spirit as “God’s empowering presence,” and we see that character of the Spirit reflected in each of the three passages we have read today. By the Holy Spirit, the God who is beyond us dwells with us and in us. The Spirit, Isaiah 59.21 says, rests upon God’s covenant people. The same Hebrew word for Spirit can be translated “breath” (this is also true of the Greek and Latin words for Spirit), and so it makes sense that Isaiah 59.21 would also suggest that the Spirit carries God’s word to us. As we speak to one another, word is carried by breath.

This is precisely what happens in the birth of Jesus. The Word of God— Jesus Christ—is carried to us by the Breath of God—the Holy Spirit.

“Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife,” the angel tells Joseph in Matthew 1, “for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.”

By the Holy Spirit, the Word of God takes flesh in the person of Jesus, who is, as the angel says, “God with us.”

The continuing work of the Holy Spirit means that this vital, lived experience of “God with us” is not limited to those who lived in Judea in the first century. It is not exclusive to those who met Jesus in person during his gospel ministry. In Galatians 4.6 Paul writes that “God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” In other words, the same Spirit that dwelt in Jesus, now dwells in those who belong to God. By God’s Spirit we also can experience “God with us.” And the work the Holy Spirit longs to bring about in us is strikingly similar to the work the Holy Spirit accomplished in Mary, the mother of Jesus. The Spirit works in us so that Jesus Christ might grow and be formed in us, and through us, might be brought into the world.

Steve Guthrie Associate Professor of Theology/Religion and the Arts

32

Friday, December 25  Psalms 2, 85, 110.1–5, 132  Micah 4.1–5, 5.2–4  John 3.31–36  1 John 4.7–16 Love came to a little Judean town called Bethlehem and changed the world forever. It was God’s way of jumpstarting the human experiment he began on the morning of creation.

The stars flung cross the heavens, the mountains scooped out of the seas and stacked to the skies, the birds of the air and the rabbits of the glen and the fish of the waters, none of these things were enough for human beings to see fully God’s love for them.

God then chose a people as his own. He cherished them and protected them against their enemies. He loved them with all his heart, but it was not enough for human beings to see fully God’s love for them.

God then sent his only son to say, “This is how much I love you.”

John tells us, “God’s love was revealed among us this way: God sent his only Son into the world so we might live through him” (1 John 4.9). He then continues by saying what God’s love should mean to us: “Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another” (v. 11).

Each year, Advent comes to us and guides us to the doorstep of Christmas. We peer inside and see a little baby who is God’s love for the world. If we listen to his infant cooing then we can hear God’s love for us and the world.

This season of the year reminds us that God really does love us and we should really love each other. This love from God that we share with each other changes the world.

For, “if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us” (v. 12).

May we love with full hearts this Christmas season! Merry Christmas!

Darrell Gwaltney Dean, College of Theology & Christian Ministry

33

College of Theology and Christian Ministry Vision

The College of Theology and Christian Ministry seeks to be a premier academic community that nurtures a living faith in God, reflects critically on its discipline, develops skills for Christian ministry, and distinguishes itself through its emphases on contemplative spirituality and social justice.

Purpose

The purpose of the College of Theology and Christian Ministry is to provide student-centered, academically challenging religion classes to the diverse student body of Belmont University and to provide a foundation of religious studies for students preparing for congregational ministry and advanced theological studies.

Goals

1. T o provide all Belmont students with a solid foundation in biblical and theological studies.

2. T o teach courses for religion majors and minors in the following areas: biblical languages, biblical studies, religion and society, theological and historical studies, practical studies, seminars and special studies. To offer professional education courses in practical ministry.

3. T o offer continuing education opportunities to ministers and laity.

4. T o integrate contemplative spirituality and social justice into the curricular and co-curricular program.

Faculty and Staff Dr. Marty Bell, Church History Dr. Robert Byrd, Greek & New Testament (Emeritus) Dr. Manuel Cruz, Theology Dr. Ben Curtis, Pastoral Care & Spiritual Formation Dr. Cynthia Curtis, Practical Theology & Spiritual Formation Dr. David Dark, Religion and the Arts Dr. Steve Guthrie, Theology & Religion and the Arts Dr. Darrell Gwaltney, Dean Dr. Sally Holt, Christian Ethics Dr. Donovan McAbee, Religion and the Arts Dr. Mark McEntire, Hebrew & Old Testament Dr. Amanda Miller, Greek & New Testament Dr. Steven Simpler, Theology Dr. Judy Skeen, Biblical Studies & Spiritual Formation Dr. Andy Watts, Christian Ethics

34

Belmont at a Glance

Belmont University is a student-centered Christian community providing an academically challenging education that empowers men and women of diverse backgrounds to engage and transform the world with disciplined intelligence, compassion, courage and faith.

Ranked No. 5 in the Regional Universities South category and named as a “Most Innovative” university by U.S. News & World Report, Belmont University is celebrating its 125th anniversary in academic year 2015–16.

Founded in 1890, the University consists of more than 7,400 students who come from every state and more than 25 countries. Committed to being a leader among teaching universities, Belmont brings together the best of liberal arts and professional education in a Christian community of learning and service. The University’s purpose is to help students explore their passions and develop their talents to meet the world’s needs. With more than 80 areas of undergraduate study, 22 master’s programs and five doctoral degrees, there is no limit to the ways Belmont University can expand an individual’s horizon.

Accreditation

Belmont University is accredited by the Commission on Colleges of the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools to award baccalaureate, master’s and doctoral degrees. Contact the Commission on Colleges at 1866 Southern Lane, Decatur, Georgia 30033-4097 or call 404.679.4500 for questions about the accreditation of Belmont University.

35

Notes

36

Notes

37

1900 Belmont Boulevard Nashville, TN 37212 BELMONT.EDU

Belmont University is a Christian community. The university faculty, administration and staff uphold Jesus as the Christ and as the measure for all things. As a community seeking to uphold Christian standards of morality, ethics and conduct, Belmont University holds high expectations of each person who chooses to join the community. Belmont University does not discriminate on the basis of race, sex, color, national or ethnic origin, age, disability, military service or sexual orientation. Inquiries or complaints concerning the application of these policies to students should be directed to the Dean of Students, Beaman Student Life Center Suite 200, 1900 Belmont Blvd., Nashville, TN 37212, deanofstudents@belmont.edu or 615.460.6407.

CTCM-15319