The Journey Advent 2015

Journey

the

Advent 2015

Columbia Theological Semin a ry

Advent greetings to you!

Advent greetings to you! We are delighted to share a little of ourselves with you in this Advent season. We hope you will enjoy this booklet of Advent devotionals written by a cross-section of our faculty, staff, students and members of our Board of Trustees.

We hope that you will use this as a guide for your daily devotional time during Advent. The themes of Advent are joy, peace, hope, and love. We pray that you will receive deep joy in the knowledge of Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord. We pray that you will experience deep peace in God’s expansive grace for you and the whole world. We pray that you will live into deep hope for God’s healing plan for a hurting world. We pray that you will walk in ways of deep love, as Jesus reminded us, for God, for neighbor, and for yourself.

We hope that you will feel the support and care of this community as you join with us in worship during Advent. The quality of the community here at Columbia is one of God’s best gifts to us.

We are daily grateful for the ways that we can learn and serve and worship together.

We pray that joy and peace will be yours in abundance throughout this holy season of the year.

Leanne Van Dyk President

Sunday, November 29, 2015 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13 P a u l ’ s p r ay e r f o r h i s f r i e n d s in Thessalonica illustrates two significant aspects of the Christian life. Being saved by grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8), Christians are called to “love” the people God brings into our lives (1 Thessalonians 3:12) and to “strengthen” each other toward “holiness” (v. 13). In 1 Thessalonians 3:10, Paul seeks to “restore whatever is lacking in [his beloved congregation’s] faith.” Katartizo, the Greek verb rendered “restore” in the NRSV, can also be translated as “to complete,” and occurs sixteen times in the New Testament.

In 1860, James Woodrow was ordained as a Presbyterian minister and accepted an invitation to the newly created Perkins Professorship in Connection with Revelation at Columbia Theological Seminary one year later. He was a devoted teacher who combined his scientific knowledge, theological acumen, and pastoral heart to guide and educate countless students in their early steps of church leadership. Two years after Woodrow’s death,

one former student in 1909 recalled that Woodrow’s instruction was “accurate and profound,” but also expressed joyous gratitude for the ways in which the professor related to his pupils as “a sympathetic friend who was ever ready to help us to his limit.”

Woodrow’s teaching ministry exemplifies the prevailing principle in this passage and elsewhere in the Scriptures: The communal bonds we share help complete our Christian journeys.

A crucial component of practicing this love for one another is godly instruction. Let us give thanks to God for our teachers— and the opportunities we are given to teach others—as we grow together in faith and righteousness.

William Yoo Assistant Professor American Religious and Cultural History

Monday, November 30, 2015 Matthew 21:1-11 “ T h e w h o l e c i t y wa s s t i r r e d , asking, ‘Who is this?’”

The “electricity,” noise and bustle of Jerusalem in Jesus’ day is likely not too far removed from the bustle of today’s Jerusalem.

Even the smell of spices, grilled meat, and baking bread may waft its way through the narrow corridors in much the same way. Except now, that aroma mixes with the calls of the muezzin, the din of tour guides and their sheep, and the overwhelming feeling that the current moment’s peace is so very fragile. And this fragile peace is not so unusual for Jerusalem in any age. It’s this religious and political tinderbox into which Jesus steps, spreading a shocking message of repentance, that angers the Jewish and Roman authorities. Jesus provocatively declares that the kingdom of heaven is at hand, draws crowds that make the Romans nervous, heals the sick, and tosses some temple tables. The response to Jesus shows that no message of hope or peace comes without making some enemies.

If we pause, we notice that at minimum, Jesus rattled the cage of the socio-political and religious establishment with his actions.

Accordingly, we must bear witness to both the baby in a manger and the one who put the whole city of Jerusalem into a frenzy.

While it is God who stirs the heart, we must bear witness as those who have and continue to be stirred, asking newly, freshly: “Who is this?� May we enter this advent season with fresh eyes, that Jesus stirs us off our comfortable couches and shows us just what it means for the little Prince of Peace to turn the world upside down.

Matt Rich Admissions Associate

Tuesday, December 1, 2015 Matthew 21:12-22 M att h e w 21 t e l l s t h e r e m a r k a b l e s t o r i e s o f J e s u s upending the tables of the vendors in the temple and then Jesus cursing the fig tree. These are strange stories for Advent, the season of the year which calls for hope and peace and joy and love. How do these stories connect with Advent? They connect with Advent themes, because they reveal the judgment of Jesus toward attitudes and action pulling in opposite directions to hope and peace and joy and love. As Advent points us toward peace, it also turns us from injustice. As Advent points us toward love, it also turns us from indifference. As Advent points us toward joy, it also turns us from greed. As Advent points us toward hope, it also turns us from cynicism and pride.

These stories demonstrate the judgment of Jesus on ways we live that undermine his call on our lives. Sometimes, our habits and our traditions can distract us from what is most important in our lives. Jesus drove the corruption out of the temple, because the sellers had lost sight of what truly matters, allowing the temple to turn into a den of thieves.

The following day, Jesus commanded the fig tree bearing no fruit to wither, and it did so immediately. These are stories of judgment. If we have ears to hear, we should listen to these two judgment stories and take heed. We are called by these stories of Advent to be faithful to the way of Jesus, not to our traditions that can sometimes blind us.

Michael Sarvis MDiv ’18

Wednesday, December 2, 20 1 5 2 Peter 3:1-10 (& 11-18) 2 P e t e r i s n o t t h e m o s t f a m i l i a r b o o k of the Bible for many of us. What encouraging words might we discern within it to encourage us as we begin our journey through Advent? I suggest using the ancient practice of lectio divina, or divine reading.

First, read silently through the entire passage, and let the words sink into your mind. You might wish to read through v. 18.

Notice words or phrases that capture your mind’s ear.

Read through a second time aloud. Did the spoken word tickle your ears any differently? Meditate on the words, phrases or images that speak to you. What might you discern from them about hope during this Advent season?

Read again, silently, tracing the path of the words with your finger, pen or pencil. Then respond to what you are hearing.

Perhaps a prayer, silent or spoken, will find its way through your thoughts. You might wish to note your response in your journal in written word, or through a sketch, mind-map or other drawing. In the quiet of your mind, maybe a hymn, creed or poem prayer will come to mind. Say or sing it aloud.

Conclude with a time of quiet, returning to read those verses or phrases that got your attention, then the entire passage. Give thanks to God who gave us hope in the person of Jesus Christ so long ago. Continue your journey of faith as you live into this hope.

You may choose to read more about spiritual practices, including lectio divina, here: http://www.presbyterianmission.org/ ministries/spiritualformation/practices/. This practice may be done alone, with your children, or in a group. Consult a hymnal (Glory to God or The Presbyterian Hymnal) and look for hopeful hymns. “Live Into Hope,� #772 in GTG or #332 in PH, is one suggestion.

Sarah F. Erickson Director, Lifelong Learning

Thursday, December 3, 201 5 Psalm 126 E a c h A d v e n t , w e ta k e a j o u r n e y to Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus Christ. Advent is a time of remembering Christ’s birth and waiting in expectant hope for Christ’s coming again. This is a hope that longs for restoration with the Lord and with people in our lives. It is a hope that also reaches out to those who have been mourning, so that they may be comforted.

In this psalm, the ones who were crying and mourning will come in shouting with joy. Advent hope is a “shouting for joy” kind of hope. Joyful laughter will be heard from every corner of this earth. While we wait and hope for that time, we take comfort in knowing that the Lord has done great things in the past, and is continuing to do great things here and now.

During this season of Advent, while we are all on this journey together, I encourage you to walk alongside others, and help them to see the hope that came in the birth of Christ and that will come in victory and joy when Christ returns in glory. We will all be rejoicing when we reach the manger, so take hope in that, and go out and be Christ for others in the world, especially those who are mourning.

Peace be with each of you during this journey.

Sarah Smith MDiv/MAPT ’17

Friday, December 4, 2015 Psalm 130 T h e p s a l m i s t s ay s , “my soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning, more than those who watch for the morning” (v. 6). People who actively watch while they are waiting certainly wait with expectation. This is not passive stillness but is active anticipation, knowing that something is about to happen. Furthermore, it is an intense level of waiting. The word “more” indicates that intensity: “My soul waits for the Lord more than those. . .”

How can we live into that “more” kind of waiting? The psalmist continues saying, “O Israel, hope in the Lord!” (v. 7).

Hope is the fuel that feeds the fire of our watching and waiting.

In this time of Advent, a season of waiting, watching, expectation, and hope, we set our hearts on the coming of the Lord. Hope is the waiting on pins and needles to receive the unsurpassable miracle of the Incarnation.

We take time each year to remember that Emmanuel became God-with-us. This same Christ is with us now, in the power of the Holy Spirit and, because “with the Lord there is steadfast love,” we share the full confidence of the psalmist, “O Israel, hope in the Lord!”

May Advent renew your spirit with eagerness, knowing that your hope is rooted in our faithful and generous God. Glory A. Cumbow MDiv/MAPT ’18

Saturday, December 5, 201 5 Psalm 90 H o s p i ta l r o o m s h av e a way of bringing heaven and earth together. Hopes and fears collide when a doctor walks in the room with news of an unwanted diagnosis. Dreams give way to disappointment when a nurse announces, “It’s time to begin hospice. They will walk with you through this journey.” In those moments, hospital rooms become sacred spaces that hold open a door into the Holy.

When a close family member, an active woman of seventyseven, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer this summer, our entire family was devastated. Mitsuko, the woman who walked beside us for over fifty years, was the last person any of us expected to go first.

A Japanese survivor of World War II, Mitsuko always found the beacon of light in every storm. Within minutes of her diagnosis, she quietly gave thanks for the certainty of hope that “in life and in death we belong to God.” She trusted her future to the One whose steadfast love promises to hold us in our earthly mourning and in our eternal morning. A hospital room became sacred space where hope diminished the darkness of disappointment.

Advent is an invitation to a journey marked by hope. It begins with a longing for the assurance of God’s steadfast love, and it beckons us toward a cold, dark room where “the hopes and fears of all the years” are met in the Christ of Bethlehem. Each candle

we light during this journey of Advent assures that any room can become holy ground where heaven and earth meet, when we trust ourselves into God’s eternal plan of grace.

Adrian Neil Doll Pastor, First Presbyterian Church of Norwalk, OH DMin student

Sunday, December 6, 2015 Malachi 3:1-4 T h e p r o p h e t M a l a c h i , whose name means “messenger,” assures his hearers that the one for whom they have waited is indeed coming. Christians understand this messenger to be John the Baptist, who prepares the way for the long-awaited Messiah. We still await the return of our Messiah, Jesus Christ, who will bring to completion the promised reign of God. This text makes it clear that the world will not pass gently into this coming reign of peace, for the justice of God demands that the world is refined like precious metals. Malachi describes what that justice looks like: there will be no more falsehood, no more oppression of hired workers, no more destitution for those who are poor, no more rejection of the alien and the stranger (v. 5). We may not imagine ourselves as those who oppress others, yet all of us are, in some way or another, complicit in the sticky web of injustice. We need to be saved.

At the end of Flannery O’Connor’s story, “Revelation,” Mrs. Turpin sees a vision of all manner of people making their way up to heaven. She sees “by their shocked and altered faces that even their virtues were being burned away.” So it will be for us. Our faults and failures and evil impulses will be destroyed in the refiner’s fire, as will even our best attempts to be faithful and loving, that we might be made new, fit for the kingdom and shining like the sun.

Kimberly Bracken Long Associate Professor of Worship

Monday, December 7, 2015 Matthew 22:23-33 W h e n I f i r s t r e a d t h i s s c r i pt u r e about Jesus fielding yet another round of attacks by his enemies, I struggled to see the connection of this story to Advent, a season of hope and joyful anticipation. When I told this to my friend, Randy Calvo, he urged me to read it again and pay close attention to what part of the text stood out most to me. And boom, there it was! I was so fixated and angry about the unfairness of Jesus having to triumph once again over his opposition’s trickery, that I missed the message of optimism and excitement conveyed in verse 33, “And when the multitude heard this, they were astonished at his doctrine.”

The crowd was taken aback by Jesus’ unexpected interpretation of scripture and by his declaration that, “God is not the God of the dead, but of the living.” These people must have left that day with a tremendous amount of hope and joyful anticipation. They had witnessed an amazing event, hearing scripture explained in a new and powerful way.

What could be more hopeful than the prospect of hearing a new way of understanding our relationship to God? What could evoke more anticipation than believing there was a new day dawning with better insights into God’s eternal truth and beauty and strength? So, yes dear God, bring on the divine unexpected. I can hardly wait!

Nancy Weitnauer Foundations Relations Manager

Tuesday, December 8, 2015 Psalm 146 A d v e n t i s n o t j u s t a t i m e of getting ready for Christmas, but a time intended to help us deal with darkness, in the natural world, in the circumstances of life, and in ourselves. The 146th Psalm, the first of the five praise Psalms that conclude the psalter, is a part of the lectionary texts for the dark season of Advent. The Psalm’s presence there can remind us that praise and darkness may go together—that God is present in both light and darkness.

Praise in a dark season may sometimes need to be expressed with an appoggiatura. In music an appoggiatura is a dissonance that is not a usual part of the chord in which it sounds. The dissonance from the way that the chord is usually heard calls attention to the main theme of the music by being different from it.

Brian Wren’s hymn, “Joyful is the Dark,” #230 in the recent Glory to God hymnal, is not in the section on Advent hymns, but it gives an Advent message. The music, written by Carlton Young, begins with a beautifully dark appoggiatura of praise in its first chord, and then goes on to tell the story of a God who is found both in darkness and in light. These are the hymn’s first and last stanzas: Joyful is the dark; holy, hidden God, rolling cloud of night beyond all naming; majesty in darkness, energy of love, Word in flesh the mystery proclaiming.

Joyful is the dark, depth of love divine, roaring, looming, thundercloud of glory, holy haunting beauty, living loving God. Hallelujah! Sing and tell the story.

John Patton Professor Emeritus, Retired Director ThD Program

Wednesday, December 9, 20 1 5 Psalm 147:1-11 A wa r m m e a l , l o v i n g ly p r e p a r e d . A good laugh. A word of encouragement. A hand held. A listening ear.

When have you been the source of someone’s delight? What did you do? How did it make you feel? The psalmist says that we give God great delight and pleasure when we trust and hope in God’s love. Other sources have tried to convince us that we have to perform, achieve, or contribute something in order to be a source of delight. So, we can catch ourselves wondering whether we have anything as marvelous to offer as the witty relief of a comedian, the provision of wealth, or the beauty of a celebrity.

We need frequent reminders, that we are the source of God’s delight. We look to God for help, love, healing and hope. God finds joy in naming every far-flung star in our universe and cultivating each tiny blade of grass on the earth. How much more must God take great pleasure in binding up our wounded hearts and gathering us into communities of love and care?

There is a phrase we hear frequently around the holidays: “It is better to give than to receive.” And, in our culture of consumption and entitlement, this is an important reminder.

But receiving is also important. Our culture is also one of performance, metrics, and competition that often block receiving.

But then we miss out on one of the greatest gifts of life—the opportunity to receive God’s unconditional healing, love and kindness, and in receiving this love, give God profound delight.

Today, may you find an opportunity to trust God’s steadfast love for you. May you enjoy the privilege of bringing God great delight. And may you take pleasure and find hope in freely offering these gifts of love and delight to those around you.

Jessica Patchett DMin student

Thursday, December 10, 20 1 5 Matthew 23:13-26 I f J e s u s w e r e s ta n d i n g b e f o r e u s t o d ay , I imagine he would say, “Woe to you, elected officials and Christians, hypocrites!” This past year has been full of “woe to you” moments.

Our human condition of depravity and sin, especially against others, seems more obvious than ever in 2015. Surely, Jesus would speak plain and blunt truth to us. But Jesus does not leave us hopeless, even in those “woe to you” verses. He gives us clear and compelling instruction. We do not have to be like the scribes and Pharisees he reproaches in these verses. As he tells them to “clean the [inside] of the cup” (v. 25), so should we. In this season of Advent, we look honestly at ourselves and confess our sins and failures. But we do so in great hope, because Jesus is coming!

Jesus is the one who took our uncleanness upon himself, and who now calls us to respond by polishing and cleaning the cup of our obedience and service.

During Advent, I find myself feeling very humbled. God came to us in the form of a mere baby, taking on our sinful humanity. The extent of God’s love for us is very deep and calls us to love God and neighbor in response. Let us begin anew this Advent season, with joy and gratitude, to live as clean and polished vessels for the coming of Christ.

Stephanie Loftin MDiv ’17

Friday, December 11, 2015 Haggai 1:1-15 N o t e v e ry j o u r n e y requires us physically to go somewhere.

Sometimes, we are simply called to discover new possibilities for relationship right where we are. In either case, it is easy to be overcome with inertia. Inertia is the stuff of being at rest and staying at rest, or starting in a certain direction and continuing in that direction unless…interrupted.

The Lord has been known to get in the way—to push, pull, and otherwise compel us to go where we are not eager to go.

God withdraws blessing where it is taken for granted. God brings irritation in the midst of our lazy comfort. God stirs up our spirit as a community to hear God’s call to something more. Advent is that time when we tune our ears and ready our hearts to follow God’s call.

God has plans for us that are obscured by the busy preoccupation we have with our own goals. We lose sight and rest in creature comforts that will not last. Even worse, we declare to God what we “know” to be the proper timing and direction. We break trust in God, each other, and our very existence. This is not just about the piety of an individual, but the faithfulness of an entire people.

And when the time comes that we finally commit together intentionally to follow God’s Spirit, we are free. Free to enjoy God and God’s community together. Free to find grace and peace in God’s love. Free to serve a world desperate to share in God’s blessing.

Michael Thompson Director of Communications

Saturday, December 12, 2015 Haggai 2:1-9 H ow i n t h e w o r l d d i d I e n d u p h e r e ? We have all asked ourselves this question at some time or other. There are times when we become quite immersed in the “doings” of everyday life, looking only at the next item on the list. There does not seem to be time or the desire to step back a bit and see where all the hard work is getting us. Sometimes we do not see until it is too late.

The Israelites found more than once that their “doings” began to move them away from the most important thing—living for God. Haggai takes God’s message to the Israelites with questions that show them how their neglect is leading to poverty, despair and factions. It is from this painful life that God promises deliverance.

Advent brings us the hope that Haggai gave to the Israelites— the coming of the Messiah. We receive God’s promises: “I am with you, take courage; My Spirit abides with you, do not fear; I shall give you prosperity, the glory of the latter temple shall be greater than the former.” In Advent we prepare for the coming of Christ, God’s provision for us. We prepare for the hope of the world, for the latter temple more glorious than the first.

Mary Lynn Darden Assistant to the President

Sunday, December 13, 201 5 Philippians 4:4-7 H e y y o u , d o n ’ t y o u w o r ry a b o u t a t h i n g . For goodness’ sake, Jesus, our Savior and Lord, is about to arrive— figuratively speaking. But isn’t it difficult not to worry considering all that is happening in our world today: police brutality, Ebola, domestic violence, ISIS beheadings, honor killings of our Middle Eastern sisters who refuse to be married off to men they don’t know, the brutal killings and kidnapping of hundreds by Boko Haram, mass shootings becoming the new norm, anti-Muslim attacks and marches in France and Europe, boats and ferries sinking in flames, and airplanes falling from the sky. Wow! And Paul says to us, “Don’t worry.”

Paul could have been in a state of worry, but chose not to be. He was concerned about the bickering between Euodia and Syntyche, and how it was impacting the workers and growth of the church at Philippi. He was concerned about the contention at the church in Rome, and how he was not physically present to help the believers. He was concerned about the imminent threat of death over his life.

In the midst of all that Paul had going on, he offered a cure for worry. He admonishes us to have a secure mind in Christ Jesus. It is through this that we can gain victory over worry (v.

6). The most difficult battles of today are between our hopes and fears. The Greek word for “anxious” or “worry” actually means to

be pulled in different directions. The Old English root word for “worry” means to be strangled. We find ourselves pulled between our fears and our hopes and strangled by life’s uncertainties, but this is where faith makes the difference. This is why Paul said we are to fix our thoughts on whatsoever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, and praiseworthy (v. 8). It is our steadfastness, our mind stayed on Jesus, and our trust in Him that helps us to overcome worry.

So don’t worry. Stay prayerful and rejoice, for the Savior is coming!

Dominique A. Robinson Staff Associate, Contextual Education DMin student

Monday, December 14, 201 5 Psalm 122 T h i s i s a p s a l m o f A s c e n t ; the people of God are eagerly traveling to the temple in Jerusalem. Soon, the pilgrims will arrive at the house of the Lord. No longer will they be aliens in foreign lands. No longer will they “lift up [their] eyes to the hills” for “help” (Psalm 121:1). They are safely at the gates of Jerusalem, the place where God is worshipped and where God’s judgment is established.

There is no more loneliness, no more cries of distress. There is hope in the presence of God. Jerusalem welcomes not only Judah and Benjamin, but also the other tribes of the Lord. Israel is “one nation under God” finding in the house of the Lord a place of refuge and protection. This unity reflects the peace and goodness of God reaching beyond different interests, opinions, backgrounds, and life-styles “to give thanks to the name of the Lord” (Psalm 122:4).

In this Advent season, we acknowledge the irony of facing uncertainty in our daily lives yet also recognize our security in the presence of God. We are a people longing for the peace and security of the city of God. Advent hope means we look not only to the manger where the infant Jesus lies but to the heavenly city from which Jesus will come again. Then we will say with joy, “Let us give thanks to the name of the Lord!”

Phuc Dai Nguyen DMin student

Tuesday, December 15, 2015 Psalms 33 and 146 T h e R e v e r e n d J e s s e L o u i s J a c k s o n , S r ., pastor, iconic civil rights leader, bib overall wearing “country preacher,” founder of the grassroots movement branded Operation Push, and foot soldier in the army of America’s only “KING” as a young “enforcer” of the gospel truth, immortalized these words in his historic speech and run for the democratic presidential nomination in 1988: “Keep Hope Alive!” He said, You must not surrender. You may or may not get there, but just know that you’re qualified and hold on and hold out. We must never surrender. America will get better and better. Keep hope alive!

It was a different time and tenor in society. Folks were still of the mind that America was getting better, despite the daily headlines of syndicated newspapers and lead stories broadcast on the evening news. It was hope rather than bullets that shot through communities of color when Rev. Jesse Louis Jackson, Sr. dared to proclaim, “Keep Hope Alive!”

Rev. Jackson believed that everything comes to light that is in the word, that is intended to bring about faithfulness, righteousness and justice. And so he proclaimed to people like us who are reading this devotional today, that the ancient wisdom of

the psalmists, who were poets and prophets of their day, is a word of hope for all our whole heart, and all our whole soul, and all our whole might. “Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.� (Psalm 33:22).

Deborah Flemister Mullen Dean of Faculty and Executive Vice President Associate Professor of American Christianity and Black Church Studies

Wednesday, December 16, 201 5 Psalm 147:1-11 P s a l m 147:1-11 i s s e t in the time of the exiles’ return to Jerusalem. Joyfully, it commands the people to “Praise the Lord!”

It is easy to praise God, however, when we are free. Yet, what about when we are still in exile? Can we praise God then? Can we find hope there? This passage gives two answers to those questions: think and look.

Verses 2-6 remind us to think about what God is doing.

What is the story of God in our lives? Has God ever healed or strengthened us when we were weak? If so, how then is God at work in our present sorrows and struggles? After all, if God did it before, God can do it again!

Verses 8-11 give us a second possible answer: look. God brings clouds and provides rain. God makes the grass grow on the mountains and feeds the animals. If God can provide all of these things, then surely God can provide for us. Therefore, we can put our hope in God. When we think and look, we please God. When we see the bounty of God, we are compelled to give voice to our thanks.

Advent thanksgiving is nourished by our trust that God will supply all of our needs.

Myron Krys Florence MDiv ’17

Thursday, December 17, 20 1 5 Matthew 25:1-13 W e d d i n g d ay s a r e s o f u l l o f h o p e . The happy couple decides the wedding theme, colors, cake, meal, and guests. In the midst of such planning, it is important for couples to remember that some things may go wrong. This is precisely what happened in this parable from the gospel of Matthew. Here we encounter the parable of the ten bridesmaids. Five of them are wise, and five are foolish. The five wise bridesmaids come prepared, and when the doors open to the banquet they are allowed to come into the hall. The five foolish ones forget about the necessary oil and so miss their chance.

This is a puzzling parable for our contemporary context that knows nothing of ancient wedding traditions and oil lamps. But it gives a glimpse of the hope offered to us through the journey of Advent. First, hope requires readiness. We do not know when or how God will come to us. But, like the wise bridesmaids, we are called to be prepared. Second, our hope is fixed on the bridegroom, Jesus Christ our Lord. Our hope will balance us against the winds of war, disease, pain, and turmoil that this world suffers. Our call then is to witness to the hope, peace, love, and joy of Jesus Christ.

Phillip A. Hagen DMin student

Friday, December 18, 2015 Psalm 16; John 3:17 B a c k i n J u ly , I s e n t a n e m a i l , on the 37th anniversary of our first day as students at Columbia Seminary, to several of my classmates with whom I’ve remained close over the years.

Prompted to look back over the decades since 1978, the group consensus was well articulated in the scriptural reply of one of our colleagues. With the psalmist, he declared, “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely, I have a delightful inheritance” (Psalm 16:6).

In this Advent season of joyous anticipation, how likely is it that you are able to claim your lot in life so far as having been gratifying, blessed, and agreeable for you? Doubtless for some, these days will be a time when personal loss is sharpened. Loss is always hard, and during holidays it can seem crushing and magnified. Sadness is sadder. Loneliness goes deeper. Some persons wish they could sleep from the Wednesday before Thanksgiving to January 2.

At times, our losses linger longer when we pin blame on others or ourselves. In our society, finding fault happens all the time. It can be contagious from one person to another, and weighs down heavily upon us all. But the hope of Advent is that this added burden has been lifted, because God sent His Son into the world not to condemn but to save folks like you and me. A mixture of good and bad, success and failure, joy and sorrow, gain

and loss, everything in life is made rich by the redeeming grace of God. Advent focuses our eyes forward to the joy of Christmas and then to all the tomorrows that are to come under God’s care. “You show me the path of life. In your presence there is fullness of joy; in your right hand are pleasures forevermore” (Psalm 16:11).

Randy S. Calvo Director, Alumni and Church Relations MDiv ’81

Saturday, December 19, 2015 Luke 1:1-25 A f t e r s e rv i n g f o r m a n y y e a r s as an Episcopal priest at a large cathedral, I have recognized several recurring dreams. In one, I am scrambling to find my vestments in the labyrinthine basement of the church. Upstairs in the nave, I hear the music signaling the beginning of the procession, and I cannot find my way out and up to join it. In some versions of this dream, I finally arrive only to find that I cannot speak.

The therapist in me recognizes this as a common dream. It speaks to anxiety about performance and to the shadow side of over-functioning. This passage from Luke, in which Zechariah is late to the sanctuary and cannot speak, intrigues me. To a priest, professor, and psychotherapist, being late, and not being able to talk, constitutes significant vocational challenges. But the larger issue is one of the prevailing cultural narrative in which many of us have trouble waiting and are often in a hurry. I am among them. So my dream is both disconcerting, and a gift.

In Spanish, the verb esperar means both “hope” and “to wait.”

A gardener friend tells me that the Esperanza plant flourishes in harsh conditions and blooms in gold and orange—hopeful waiting indeed. Waiting in silence and creating sacred space for hope to grow, and compassion to blossom, is a practice we can cultivate. In this Advent season, I invite each of us to contest our personal and cultural narratives of busyness and anxiety. Perhaps my archetypal

dreams are an invitation, as well. Perhaps Zechariah is a prophet calling us to pay attention to and cultivate a mindfulness of the sacred task of waiting, and hoping, in silence.

Bill Harkins Senior Lecturer of Pastoral Theology & Care Director of the ThD Program

Sunday, December 20, 2015 Luke 1:39-45 I l i k e t h e t e r m “ l e a p o f f a i t h . ” It’s simple and lyrical and oddly accurate: sometimes, faith really does feel like a great leap across some chasm that seems way too wide to cross. If you look down, you’ll lose your nerve, so you just jump, hoping the ground on the other side will rush up to meet you. And when it does, you can hardly say how or why you landed safely. All you know is there was no bridge to make the crossing easy. You just closed your eyes, held your breath, leaped into thin air, and were blessed with landing. Like Mary in this passage, “blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord” (v. 45).

A leap of faith also reminds me of Elizabeth. “As soon as I heard the sound of your greeting,” she exclaims to Mary, “the child in my womb leaped for joy!” (v. 44). Faith feels like that, too—a great bounding up of something deep within you. You can’t make it happen. You can’t predict when it will awaken, either.

You can only receive it as a gift, wonder at the life that back flips its way into your belly.

This is a season to rejoice in leaps of faith, wherever they may be. May you have the spring to leap across whatever is before you.

May you have the joy of a bounding heart.

Anna Carter Florence Peter Marshall Associate Professor of Preaching

Monday, December 21, 201 5 2 Samuel 7:1-17 W e l o n g f o r p e r m a n e n c e i n l i f e : stable jobs, secure income, lasting relationships, the promise that the institutions we love will always exist as we’ve always known them. David is no exception. Now that the king was settled in his “house” (i.e., palace), he hoped to settle God in a “house” (i.e., temple) of his own. Whether out of piety or anxiety, David wanted to pin down God’s presence in a permanent place.

But this strategy just won’t do. David’s deity is a God-on-the-go, moving with the Israelites from Egypt to Canaan, from wilderness wanderings to Jordan crossings, from the heights of praise to the depths of lament. That God goes about in a tent (v. 2)—and eventually, a mobile throne (Ezekiel 1, 10)—is cause for deep and resounding hope. The mobility of God’s presence means that temple or no temple, nation or no nation, Yahweh will always be the Immanuel, or God with us.

In Advent, we anticipate the realization of God’s presence in the Word made flesh. It is this Word that permanently lives (or “tabernacles,” according to the Greek of John 1:14) among us. It is this assurance of presence that stands at the heart of the good news of Christ’s birth. For in the midst of the many impermanences of our lives, God tabernacles with us. In joblessness and in loss, in new callings and in unexpected opportunities, it is the promise of God’s mobile, incarnate presence that stirs and sustains our faith.

Ryan Bonfiglio Scholar in Residence, First Presbyterian Church, Atlanta Adjunct Instructor, Old Testament

Tuesday, December 22, 2015 Luke 1:59-66 “ N o n e o f y o u r r e l at i v e s h a s t h i s n a m e . . . . What then will this child become?” (1:61-66). These two responses of Elizabeth’s neighbors show their puzzlement at what is going on. Rejoicing, they had come to circumcise the long-awaited child, and to witness the giving of his name. Of course, he would be named after his father, the beloved and respected priest, Zechariah. This would be especially fitting, since some mysterious illness had deprived Zechariah of his speech for the past several months. It would honor tradition, and the father, to confer the name on the newborn.

Yet Elizabeth says, “No; he is to be called John” (v. 60).

This eight-day-old baby not named after his father? What then will become of him? Who is this child, if he is not first of all Zechariah, Jr.? The surprising name of baby John signals that God is doing a new thing in the hill country of first century Judea.

We, too, might wonder, when we see new things happening, when we hear new and unfamiliar names, “What will this child become?” What is going on here? But this story reminds us that it is precisely in the new and unexpected that God may be at work. Instead of the father teaching the child to speak, here the name of the child opens the lips of the father.

So may we learn to see when God is doing a new thing. And when we see it, like Zechariah, may we respond by opening our lips in praise.

Martha Moore-Keish Associate Professor of Theology Director for the ThM Program

Wednesday, December 23, 20 1 5 Jeremiah 31:10-14 T h e p r o p h e t J e r e m i a h h a d a r a p s h e e t as long as his arm, which wasn’t surprising given his habit of predicting that a foreign power would soon turn Jerusalem into a heap of rubble.

But since the Jerusalem establishment refused to heed Jeremiah’s calls to transform their oppressive ways (5:26-29), Jerusalem was plucked up and overthrown by the Babylonian imperial army (52:1-30).

Surprisingly, after these traumatic events, Jeremiah changed his tune. He offered words of comfort to the suffering people of Israel (30:1-31:40). In Jeremiah 31:10-14, the prophet calls the nations to witness the great shepherd YHWH ransoming and redeeming Israel from the clutches of the ravenous imperial powers of the world (31:11). Then, Jeremiah claims, God will once again dwell with the people, and the entire community will remember how to laugh and dance together (31:12-13).

Jeremiah also says that God promises to transform their experience of life itself: hearts calloused by hopelessness will suddenly overflow with joy and happiness. God once again calls the Israelites “my people,” evoking the traditional covenant formula (31:14). A few verses later, Jeremiah tells the people that a new covenant is on its way, and with this covenant, God will inscribe divine instruction directly on the people’s hearts (31:3134). The people will know God intimately, Jeremiah says, and God will unilaterally forgive all their sins.

It is no coincidence, then, that when he was hosting his final meal, Jesus lifted the cup and reminded his disciples of Jeremiah’s promised new covenant (Luke 22:20). Yet again, in a time of hopelessness and desperation, a prophet calls for an unexpected transformation—a sudden explosion of newness and revived life—in the midst of a world that could not even imagine such a change. This is, of course, the gospel message in miniature, and it remains our proclamation today. Like Jeremiah, we remain hopeful this Advent season, as we wait for our shepherd to arrive.

Brennan Breed Assistant Professor of Old Testament

Thursday, December 24, 20 1 5 Matthew 1:21-24 A s L u k e t e l l s t h e s t o ry o f t h e j o u r n e y to the manger, Mary is center stage and becomes the paradigmatic example of what a faithful follower of God looks like. Her willingness to trust in God’s promises and to live accordingly becomes the model for discipleship in Luke.

Matthew, however, tells this story through the eyes of Joseph.

Joseph becomes the example of a faithful disciple, as he hears the command of God and follows it. Yet, I wonder if Joseph is not the forgotten person in the Christmas story, almost a tag along for Mary and the baby. One year at preschool chapel of the church I serve, we invited the children to act out the Christmas story with each child playing a role. What was fascinating was how Mary always moved front and center, but Joseph always seemed to shyly move at Mary’s side. Joseph seemed to be overshadowed by Mary and only a bit player. Yet, as Matthew tells the story, Joseph’s hospitality provides a safe space for Mary and for the child in her womb. In some sense, Joseph’s willingness to follow God opens up the rest of the story. For Matthew, the journey starts in hospitality and in particular the hospitality of Joseph.

As we move into Christmas Eve, I wonder how the story of Joseph invites us to see this evening as a story of risky hospitality which provides a safe place for others. This risky hospitality can open up new possibilities for God’s grace to move in the world.

In Joseph’s act of hospitality the journey begins as a story about hosting new opportunities with grace and love. Intriguingly, this is Joseph’s only role in the gospel story. Matthew’s holding up of Joseph, however, suggests that hospitality may be where the journey starts for all who would be followers of the baby for whom Joseph provided a safe place.

Tom Walker Chairman, Board of Trustees Pastor, Palms Presbyterian Church

Friday, December 25, 2015 Micah 4:1-5; 5:2-4 T h e p r o p h e t M i c a h r e m i n d s u s that the gift of Jesus is the linchpin between a prophetic vision and a divine promise. The vision (4:1-5): There is a pilgrimage of “peoples” and “nations” to Mount Zion for instruction in God’s ways. There is divine judgment and arbitration between peoples and nations. And the peoples and nations respond. They destroy their weapons and transform them into tools for tilling the soil and tending vines. They cease being at war and even the contemplation of war. They are secure, satisfied with what they have, and are not afraid. The vision concludes: all peoples profess what they believe—each “walk[ing]… in the name of its god”—but the Judean congregation “will walk

in the name of the Lord [their] God forever and ever” (v. 5). The divine promise (5:2-4): A Messiah will be born in Bethlehem, and “he shall be the one of peace” (5:5).

As we twenty-first century Christians celebrate the birth of “the one of peace,” we are called upon to remember Micah’s vision. If we are to proclaim authentically that Jesus is the Prince of Peace this Advent, then we are obligated to the vision that is inextricably tied to it. This vision calls us to face our fears today: security at home and abroad, nation-less borders, religiously motivated violence, and weapons of mass destruction. Let Micah’s vision guide us anew. We have the gift of Jesus. Let’s share this gift; bring the peace of Christ and hope to our world.

Marcia Y. Riggs J. Erskine Love Professor of Christian Ethics

Columbia Theological Seminary 701 S. Columbia Drive P.O. Box 520 Decatur, GA 30031-9954 404-378-8821 www. CTSnet.edu

Follow US

CTSeminary