2017 Advent Guide

Belmont University

Advent Devotional Guide 2017

Advent 2017 It is my pleasure to offer to the Belmont University community our 14th annual Advent Guide. May we call out together, “Come, thou longexpected Jesus!”

Advent is that season of waiting that carefully and purposefully helps us to realign our priorities and to glimpse, anew, our place and hope before God. It is a time we long for release from our fears and to find our rest in God. Come, thou long-expected Jesus!

Our hope is these devotionals help all who read to prepare their hearts and minds 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 and contribution this year. I also especially thank Tola Pokrywka, Assistant to the Dean for the College of Theology and Christian Ministry. Tola concludes her second year of service with us during this Advent season and this guide would not happen without her—all of what we do 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! May the Christ come to all of us this Christmas!

Blessings,

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

Guide to Daily Prayer Opening Prayer Come, thou long-expected Jesus, Born to set thy people free, From our fears and sins release us, Let us find our rest in thee.

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.

s a closing prayer, read the words to Come Thou A Long-Expected Jesus appointed for the week.

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Week One Come, thou long-expected Jesus, Born to set thy people free, From our fears and sins release us, Let us find our rest in thee.

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Sunday, December 3  1 Thessalonians 5.1–11  Matthew 25.1–13  Luke 21.5–19  2 Peter 3.1–10 The other day I was chatting with a good friend who recently experienced some trauma on a flight from Nashville to Toronto. His plane was attempting to land in bad weather, visibility was poor and as the plane approached the runway for landing, the pilots noticed another plane already on the runway blocking their path. Instead of landing, the pilots abruptly directed the plane back into the air.

People on the plane were understandably startled and panicked, and a woman sitting next to my friend began to scream. He took her hand and told me that without thinking he said, “Be calm because we are about to meet God.” I have no idea how I might react if I found myself in similar circumstances, but I was struck by the way my friend responded in a moment when he thought death could be imminent. For me, his statement says something about the way he lives his life. He is a person of faith, and for him, this entails some fairly methodical practice. He wants to be prepared, to be ready to respond well to what life sends his way. For him, spiritual practice is a way to train for the unexpected.

In the texts for today from 1 Thessalonians and from the Gospel of Luke, there is a sense that something good is coming. The day of the Lord is on the horizon and the salvation of souls seems so close at hand. The expectation makes the reader feel unsettled though, because before the resolution, it seems as if great upheaval and suffering will occur.

There is nothing to be done but to endure—be cautious, be aware, and stick together. We cannot know what is before us, and as Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians, the unknown will come abruptly upon us, like a thief or like a woman’s birth pangs. Paul wants believers to be prepared but to not waste time speculating about the future.

I think my friend’s response on the plane illustrates this notion of preparation well. He had no idea that anything irregular might happen during his day, but when it did, his authentic response was akin to one of praise.

During Advent, we reflect on the birth of Jesus the Christ and the hope the Incarnation brought to the world. At the same time, we anticipate a future when everything will be reconciled to God. The interim is the troublesome part, with its hurricanes and mass shootings and refugee crises. Our work is to be prepared and to help one another. During this Christmas season, let us take the advice Paul gave to that early Christian community in Thessalonica to stay awake and aware of the work of God in our world.

Sally Holt Professor of Religion

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Monday, December 4  Psalms 1, 2, 3, 4, 7  Amos 2.6–16  Matthew 21.1–11  2 Peter 1.1–11 The struggle and the beauty—a friend of mine died recently, and that is how her life was described. Perhaps that is the life we all live, a life of struggle and beauty.

We see both of these in our texts for this day in Advent. The struggle is particularly evident in the words of the prophet Amos. The people of Israel are judged for their contributions to the suffering of their own people. They enslave the needy and the righteous for financial gain.

The poor and the afflicted are trampled down. They worship false gods and are involved in what we now call human trafficking. This greedy and hedonistic life results in the Israelites also struggling. Both the oppressors and the oppressed are caught in a cycle of misery and destruction. We see that around us today as well.

And yet there is also beauty. We are not left hopeless. Jesus is arriving.

In the Gospel of Matthew, we see Jesus arriving in Jerusalem. He comes into the city, and the crowds recognize that something new is happening here. The people, people who are struggling under the heavy hand of Rome, people who are thirsty and hungry and perhaps ill look at Jesus and see His beauty. This is not the good looks of a movie star, but the beauty of hope that causes them to shout “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!”

It is easy to see and feel and experience the struggle of our world today, and that is part of human life. Let us also take time to look to Jesus, our hope, who has arrived and who will come again. Come, thou long-expected Jesus!

Ann Coble Lecturer in Religion

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Tuesday, December 5  Psalms 5, 6, 10, 11  Amos 3.1–11  Matthew 21.12–22  2 Peter 1.12–21 For most of my life, the season of Advent and the end of the first semester of the academic year have occurred simultaneously. It is a time of the year when my personal life and my professional life are happening at a fever pitch but not necessarily in a compatible way.

As a Christian, I am filled with excitement and anticipation about the coming of Christ. The season is filled with familiar hymns, joy, passion, infectious happiness and cheer. I know that with Christ’s birth “The Lord is in his holy temple; the Lord is on his heavenly throne. He observes everyone on earth; his eyes examine them” (Psalm 11.4) and that “all who take refuge in [God] be glad: let them ever sing for joy” (Psalm 5.11). At the same time, as an academic, I am trying to finalize projects, grade papers, and prepare for graduation. The season is filled with deadlines and worries about what might not be accomplished. I am tired and weary and ask, “Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint; heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony” (Psalm 6.2).

For me, however, my expectation of Christ’s coming is a way to find strength to finish the semester well. I know that God has given me the skills, knowledge and persistence to do His work, for His glory. I know that, as Peter says of the disciples in one of today’s selections: For we did not follow cleverly devised stories when we told you about the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in power, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty. He received honor and glory from God the Father when the voice came to him from the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased” (2 Peter 1.16-17).

Knowing that God is with us, that he is watching over us, that we are celebrating his greatest gift to mankind, helps me to balance the push-and-pull between spiritual-life and work-life. It is also a reminder that I am blessed to part of community where there is resonance, not dissonance, in the struggle I find in this season. Living so fully in a community of faith—work, family, and church—helps me be a better administrator, father, and Christian and I am grateful to be able to share this time with the community we share together.

Thomas Burns Provost

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Wednesday, December 6  Psalms 12, 13, 14, 119.1–24  Amos 3.12–4.5  Matthew 21.23–32  2 Peter 3.1–10 The Scripture readings for today are diverse: songs of worship and teaching, prophetic oracles, parables, theological debates, and a letter of exhortation. But as I sat here pondering them, in the specific context of Advent, a single theme rose to the top. All of these passages emphasize the fact that the work of God in the world, the appearance of Jesus among us (parousia in Greek, adventus in Latin), is always unexpected. The author of 2 Peter 3.10 writes that “the day of the Lord will come like a thief.” God appears, unexpectedly, on the side of the poor and needy who are overlooked by the seemingly faithful (Psalm 12.1-6; Amos 4.1-2).

In Matthew 21, the Jesus for whom we are preparing in this season is an adult, nearing the violent execution that ends his life, at the hands of the imperial power of Rome and its local allies. In this scene, Jesus is engaged with the political and religious authorities of Jerusalem in a debate about authority. In verses 28–32, Jesus challenges those leaders with a parable about two sons: one who says he will do what his father asks of him, but does not do it; and one who initially turns down the father’s request to work in the vineyard, but then changes his mind and completes the task. The Jerusalem elites inadvertently acknowledge their own fault when they respond rightly that it is the action that mattered, not the word. Tax collectors and prostitutes, Jesus points out, changed their minds (repented) and acted upon it.

But that is not who the leaders expected to embody and enact the reign of God. So who are we today? A lot of times we see ourselves as forgiven sinners, repentant tax collectors. And we are, to some extent. But we are also members of the majority religion in our country. We are a part of the mainstream, comfortable in our churches and Bible studies and campus ministries, worshipping God with our friends and our families.

This is not a totally bad thing, not our fault or even necessarily our choice, but still—a place of privilege. And that, as Scripture so often attests, is where we are in danger of getting too comfortable, of missing Jesus in our midst. For Jesus in our midst takes the form of people and places we typically experience as being not like Jesus: people and places very different from our own people and places.

Jesus comes, in Scripture and today, as a baby born to poor parents, a brown-skinned refugee child, a theo-political dissident, a man judged a traitor and duly executed by the state. May we seek Jesus this Advent with eyes open to God’s presence where we least expect to meet him.

Amanda C. Miller Associate Professor of Biblical Studies

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Thursday, December 7  Psalms 18.1–20, 18.21–50  Amos 4.6–13  Matthew 21.33–46  2 Peter 3.11–18 It is hard sometimes to read texts like these in the season of Advent— texts that seem to be all doom and gloom—do we not know that this is supposed to be a happy time filled with celebration and good news?

These texts remind us that good news sometimes comes where we least expect it. The Matthew text is a parable that would have been immediately understood as an allegory by the Jewish leaders to whom Jesus was speaking. Their minds would have gone to Isaiah chapter 5 where the prophet tells of a vineyard that was planted by God, who dug it up, cleared it of stones, cut out a winepress and built a watchtower, then waited for the harvest that was to come, and yet it yielded only bad fruit. Then vineyard owner let the vineyard be destroyed and in Isaiah’s writing Israel was the vineyard that was destroyed. They knew that this was an allegory told to tells the Jewish leaders, in no uncertain terms, that have once again fallen short of the call that God has given to them.

When we read a story like this, we too know that it is an allegory, and we know what we are called to do—joyfully work in the vineyard and turn over the good fruit to God. We are responsible to God for tending and caring for the vineyard and for turning over the harvest. We are called, as workers in the vineyard, to be faithful, kind, generous, fighting against the powers of darkness and sin. We are called to be workers in the vineyard who give all to the vineyard owner. Matthew tells us something of God’s claim on us as disciples. The owner of the vineyard wants not just part of us and of our lives, but all of us. We cannot give just a part of our lives to the work of Jesus Christ in our world, but we must answer the call of the gospel with all of who we are.

It may seem like bad news to have to give all of who we are to Jesus—is not that a lot to ask, God? The season of Advent reminds us of a God who became human, and of a God whose work is not yet finished. In the meantime, as we await the advent of Jesus, we are those that can be found hard at work tending the vineyard.

Heather Gerbsch Daugherty University Minister

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Friday, December 8  Psalm 116  Amos 5.18–27  Matthew 22.15–22  Jude 17–25 “Branding” is a ubiquitous term in today’s world. We talk of enhancing our brand, of buying name brands, and of being attached to a brand.

I hear some people talking about their brand as if it were something precious to them. Certainly, most businesses would proceed to legal action if they believed their brand was infringed upon. Today’s passage from Amos suggests that the religious leaders of ancient Israel were particularly proud of their brand of religion. They were very impressive and getting it “right.” Yahweh, on the other hand, seems unimpressed.

In his famous exchange with the Pharisees from our Gospel text, Jesus echoes the ancient spirit of the prophet. He wanted his followers to recognize the difference between something we have and who we are. The Roman denarius had the image of Caesar impressed upon it from the outside. It bore the brand. Humans, on the other hand, carry God’s image in the very structure of our being. I am reminded of my children. When I look at them I see their mother and myself in them. It is not something stamped on them externally. It is who they are.

We live in a society that too often equates brand with being, what we have with who we are. As people of faith, we are often tempted to succumb to this delusion. I once talked with a Christian man who was very successful and prominent in the eyes of the world. He had held numerous prestigious jobs (he had clearly enhanced his brand), but confessed that he never really wanted to do the actual work of any of those jobs. When I asked why he took the jobs he said that it was because he had to “win” them. When I asked what was so important about being a winner he said, “Because being a child of God just is not good enough.”

Advent is the time when we remember that God is committed to who we are, not what we have. God does not value our brands. God loves us as children. During this season let us remember to “render unto God that which is God’s.”

Tom Knowles-Bagwell Associate Professor of Counseling

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Saturday, December 9  Psalms 114, 115, 148, 149, 150  Amos 6.1–14  Luke 1.57–66  2 Thessalonians 1.5–12 You will lose all power of speech and remain silent . . . his lips and tongue were freed . . . praising God (Luke 1.20, 64).

The background for the birth of Jesus is the birth of John the Baptist.

The context for the birth of John is the shame and humiliation of Zechariah and Elizabeth, the embittered parents. Life had not turned out for them as they had anticipated and together they were beaten down by barrenness. Barrenness had been sent by God, or so they had been taught. Lesson One: do not allow the opinions of others to form the basis of your relationship with God. When an Angel appeared to Zechariah to announce the birth of a son, he doubted—and because he doubted, he was struck mute. His tongue could deliver no words. Now his silence would be his message.

Standing in the presence of the Angel, i.e., a transcendent event of self-authenticating power, Zechariah learned that words are not necessary. As St. Francis once said, “Preach the Gospel, and if you must, use words.” Lesson Two: silence is often the language of God. When John is born and there is confusion about his name, Zechariah— still mute—writes on a tablet “he is to be called John.” The silence has produced an interior faithfulness in Zechariah and his tongue is finally loosened with a note of jubilation. The question is asked “what will this child become?”

In a short space, the focus has shifted from the frozenness of past disappointment to the wonder of future anticipation. Lesson Three: God liberates by giving open-ended future. The arrival of new life in the birth of John foreshadows the arrival of new life in the ChristChild—Jeshua, who saves or delivers by healing past disappointments and opening up unanticipated futures. Thanks be to God! Ben Curtis Professor of Religion

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Week Two Israel’s strength and consolation, Hope of all the earth thou art, Dear desire of every nation, Joy of every longing heart.

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Sunday, December 10  Psalms 38, 119.25–48  Amos 8.1–14  Matthew 23.1–12  Revelation 1.17–2.7 The Advent season leading up to Christmas is a time of preparation for remembering the coming of Christ into the world. A manger, shepherds, wise men, and of course Mary and Joseph are part of the annual picture, along with baby Jesus. There is much to be experienced and learned, but we are looking in the rearview mirror, historically speaking.

What we have forgotten is that Christians in earlier centuries not only looked back during Advent; they looked forward to the second coming of Christ, the future Advent when he shall come to judge the living and the dead, and bring to fulfillment his kingdom, which will have no end.

The name “Advent” comes from the Latin word adventus, meaning “arrival” or “appearance.” Jesus came the first time as a helpless baby, embodying God’s grace and forgiveness. After his resurrection, his glory is so overpowering that when his dear friend, the Apostle John, sees him, he describes it this way: When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. Then he placed his right hand on me and said: “Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last. I am the Living One; I was dead, and now look, I am alive for ever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and Hades . . .

To the one who is victorious, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God” (Revelation 1.17).

Jesus lets John, and us, know that at his future Advent the eternal destiny of each person will be decided. Not because Jesus’ gracious, forgiving nature has changed, but because there comes a time when history will have run its course, and the fullness of eternal life for all who are in Christ will begin. Charles Wesley, who wrote “Hark, the Herald Angles Sing,” wrote these Advent words as well: His kingdom cannot fail, He rules o’er earth and heaven; The keys of death and hell are to our Jesus given: Lift up your heart, lift up your voice!

Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!

Rejoice in glorious hope! Our Lord and Judge shall come And take His servants up to their eternal home: Lift up your heart, lift up your voice!

Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!

Todd Lake Vice President, Spiritual Development

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Monday, December 11  Psalm 37.1–18, 37.19–42  Amos 9.1–10  Matthew 23.13-26  Revelation 2.8–17 One of the facets of God’s character that I have always found most comforting is His immutability. Simply put, God is who He is and He does not change. It is this consistency that allows me the luxury of truly trusting Him. Over time, God has proven himself to be kind, patient, gentle, loving, merciful, gracious, tender-hearted, forgiving and simply all that is good. Knowing that He is love and that that will never change affords me the assurance that his temperament is not based on who I am or what I do. God proved this by the lengths that He went to in order to assure that I would have the opportunity to be in relationship with Him. He did all the work. He had a plan, He sent his son, He showed Himself to us through his son, He provided the example, He drew me with His love, and He continues to wrap me in it.

While I would like to believe that it is based on my efforts or by following my latest self-improvement plan, I realize that I am changed simply by the power of His presence within me. Philippians 1.6 states that He who began a good work in me will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus. It is this power, this presence, which causes me to desire to live in a way that pleases Him. (It is so like Him to give me an assignment and then equip me with everything I need to accomplish it. Everything . . . even the desire to accomplish it!)

It is because of His immutability and His love that I have the security I need to face each day and every situation life brings. “Commit everything you do to the Lord. Trust him to help you to do it, and he will” (Psalm 37.5, NASB).

Angie Bryant Assistant Dean, Student Support Services

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Tuesday, December 12  Psalms 31, 35  Haggai 1.1–15  Matthew 23.27–39  Revelation 2.18–29 A powerful deity sends a messenger to a group of people to tell them that he has been sabotaging their efforts to grow enough food to feed their families because they built houses for themselves before they built one for him. The prophet threatens that things are going to get even worse if they do not alter their behavior. The people believe the prophet and are afraid that the predicted disaster will come to pass, so they start building a temple for the deity. This plot summary of Haggai 1 presents a challenge to the concept of waiting that lies at the core of the Advent season. Are we waiting to be extorted? Dare we ask why a God powerful enough to send destructive weather is incapable of a simple task like building his own house?

The Bible is a site of fierce debate about the nature of God and God’s relation to humanity, and the little “book” of Haggai has a voice in that debate. Unfortunately, the book takes the position that divine favor must be purchased, while other portions of the Bible push back against such an idea. Portions of Psalm 31 would indicate that divine help does not require payment, but that God simply has favorites of whom God takes special care. Psalm 35 may provide a surer sense that God protects the singer from evil plots. Lest we think the New Testament simplifies the matter, Matthew 23 finds Jesus railing against the enemies of the community for whom the Gospel of Matthew was written. The debate may look quaint in our own time, when a scientific understanding of weather, economics and other phenomena explain our successes and failures. Still, echoes of the past abound, and the nature of God is a subject worthy of contested consideration. An active understanding of Advent provides an arena for such a contest.

How inclusive is God’s care? How can I reflect a vision of God’s care in my own work in the world? To put this into a stricter sense of an Advent question, what kind of God am I waiting for? Is it just one who will make me successful, make me feel special or beat up my enemies, or is it one who can expand my vision of a hospitable world?

Mark McEntire Professor of Biblical Studies

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Wednesday, December 13  Psalms 32, 42, 43  Haggai 2.1–9  Matthew 24.1–14  Revelation 3.1–6 My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God? My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me continually, “Where is your God?” (Psalm 42.2-3) Look for God like a man with his head on fire looks for water.

Elizabeth Gilbert I confess I have sometimes found it difficult to see God this past year. Together as a nation we have witnessed so much violence, hate, tragedy and general foolishness that it has sometimes been hard to keep up. Just when we thought we could begin to heal from the pain of one alarming atrocity, another struck. I suspect that this large-scale sense of hopelessness leaked into many of our personal lives as well.

Collective grief and fear of the unknown cannot help but cause us anxiety that may affect our relations with others.

I find myself strangely comforted by the despair expressed by the psalmist in Psalm 42. It is one of the passages of scripture that helps me get outside of myself and recognize that I am not the first person to feel this way—that this is not the first time the world has seemed devoid of the presence of the Holy. The prophet in Lamentations also does this, crying out, “Why have you forgotten us completely? Why have you forsaken us these many days?” (5.20) Elsewhere in scripture, wisdom writers express a clear-eyed, unflinching view of the world as a mixed bag of good, evil and indifferent. Texts like these teach me that just as giving voice to awe, praise and joy is a holy act, giving voice to grief and acknowledging a sense of abandonment can be similarly sacred.

I do not even really need to get to the end of the Psalm and hear the psalmist admonishing his soul to “hope in God,” offering the encouragement that someday his soul will again praise God. I can just appreciate the psalmist’s patience; that day does not have to be today.

Today can simply involve feeling the weight of God’s apparent absence.

Reading this Psalm and other similarly bleak-sounding texts during Advent, however, adds a layer of urgency. We are sitting, waiting, often in darkness, for God to show up. We acknowledge the darkness.

We name the grief. But during this season, we never stop looking.

Beth Ritter-Conn Lecturer in Religion

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Thursday, December 14  Psalm 63.1–8, 98, 103  Amos 9.11–15  John 5.30–47  2 Thessalonians 2.1–3, 13–17 In his recent book, American Covenant: A History of Civil Religion from the Puritans to the Present, Philip Gorski, a celebrated historian, bemoans the fact that Americans are increasingly divided and that they are fearful that the nation will be torn apart related to vision for the future. On the one hand, those who identify with religious nationalism promote the notion that the United States was founded as a Christian nation, but a series of poor social and political choices has threatened the exceptionalism of the divine American destiny. On the other hand, those who identify with radical secularism view religious expression as a frontal assault on core liberal values that represent the best of the American experience. Gorski sees these two positions—religious nationalism and radical secularism—locked in a rigid battle for control of American politics and the reformation of American society.

Gorski argues that many Americans have forgotten an alternative to either religious nationalism or radical secularism. That alternative is the time-honored path of American civil religion. A fusion of the JudeoChristian heritage that immigrants from Europe brought in the British colonial period of North American history and classical republican ideals, American civil religion has traditionally refused the extremes of either religious nationalism or radical secularism. Put succinctly, the tradition of American civil religion promotes the idea of a providential unfolding of the American story without the endorsement of any one religious tradition.

How does the civil religion tradition of the United States fit into Advent and the celebration of Christmas? A specific example may prove illustrative on this point. Rather than fighting over whether we should say “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays,” as though the correct expression is the only tolerable one, perhaps we should assume that whichever expression we hear is intended as a genuine sentiment of goodwill. As we prepare for Christmas with our own meaningful traditions, I think the important question is this: are my traditions about wishing wholeness and peace to others? If I cannot honestly pass the above test, it is quite possible that my traditions are about making a statement of what I think is right. One can read our passage from the ninth chapter of Amos as a literal restoration of David’s Kingdom, which could be a good or a bad thing depending on one’s view of that as a literal event. Or one could see in this Hebrew poetry an encouraging vision of life’s abundance for all through the mercy of God. Marty Bell Professor of Religion

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Friday, December 15  Psalm 41, 44, 52  Zechariah 1.7–17  Matthew 24.15–31  Revelation 3.7–13 In today’s reading from Matthew, the disciples have just asked Jesus privately, “What will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?”

Matthew writes here out of the apocalyptic, a literature born of desperation. Israel has been under the thumb of cruel foreign leaders like Herod the Great. Life under Roman rule has left them with no real political freedom. Martyrdom has become the reward for being faithful to the teachings of Torah. Later, in the book of Revelation, this desperation will be dramatized in wars, famines, earthquakes and those faithful to Jesus’ teachings being tortured and put to death.

Human existence, then and now, is always precarious, always desperate, and always one step away from disintegration: conflict in Iraq, Afghanistan and North Korea; hurricanes in Texas, Florida and Puerto Rico; earthquakes in Mexico City; and mass shootings in Las Vegas. For many today, this is not so far removed from “the sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light.”

Advent is a season of waiting in the darkness and waiting for the light.

Whereas apocalyptic literature pictures the divine as an angry king violently shaking the earth, Advent is waiting on the birth of a child— the face of God is beginning to appear as vulnerability, one who has emptied himself and has come to walk beside us.

In this dark apocalyptic passage, these signs are highlighted as “the beginning of birthpangs.” In a curious way, the Christ child brings these “birthpangs.” What will be the sign of his coming? The persistence of love in our lives. A forgiveness that liberates. A call to respond to the sufferings in our world.

Cynthia Curtis Assistant Professor of Religion

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Saturday, December 16  Psalms 45, 47, 48  Zechariah 2.1–13  Revelation 3.14–22  Matthew 24.32–44 Psalm 45 is a psalm praising Israel’s king. It is also a psalm that many early Christians applied to Jesus, whom they believed was the Christ— the Messiah, the heir to King David’s throne. The author of the New Testament book of Hebrews, in fact, explicitly applies verse 7 to Jesus: You love righteousness and hate wickedness; therefore God, your God, has set you above your companions by anointing you with the oil of joy (Hebrews 1.9).

It is worth re-reading the psalm through the eyes of these early Christian authors, thinking of how these words seemed to them an apt characterization of King Jesus.

One of the things that is most striking about the psalm is the lavish and sensuous delight that the songwriter takes in the beauty of the king.

This kind of delight turns out to have not only an aesthetic dimension, but an ethical and even political dimension. Adoration, it turns out, has a distinctly countercultural edge to it. The things we delight in turn us toward one kingdom and away from another. The word “delight” is important as well. One of the wonderful things about the psalm is that it is not fear or threat of violence that commend this king, but beauty.

The psalm writer is not compelled, but drawn into this kingdom by the attractive force of love and adoration. The Christian philosopher James K. A. Smith develops this idea in his book You Are What You Love. Smith draws on St. Augustine’s ancient idea that human beings are above all oriented by their loves and desires. The most important thing about us, in other words, is what we most love. This means again, that adoration—and particularly, that mode of adoration we call worship—can have a profoundly countercultural dimension. Perhaps this is never so starkly apparent as it is at Christmas. In this season both the Church and the Marketplace celebrate the things they call good and beautiful and most lovely. When we obey the invitation “O Come, Let Us Adore Him,” we are declaring to ourselves and those around us precisely what (or rather Whom) we find most beautiful and our greatest delight. We are allowing our hearts to be reoriented, not by fear, force or pragmatism, but by the beauty of the Child who is King.

Steve Guthrie Professor of Theology/Religion and the Arts

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Week Three Born thy people to deliver, Born a child and yet a king, Born to reign in us forever, Now thy gracious kingdom bring.

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Sunday, December 17  Psalms 49, 119.49–72  Zechariah 3.1–10  Matthew 24.45–51  Revelation 4.1–8 It is difficult to live in the now, and still not yet kingdom of God. Jesus has come to us as a baby in a manger—that is the hope we celebrate this Advent season. Jesus is with us now, through his Holy Spirit who comforts us and counsels us, helping us participate in the kingdom of God that is at hand. Jesus is to come again and we will all sing with the voices of heaven, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come” (Revelation 4.8).

It is hard to remember this beautiful, life altering truth when the world around us seems so full of violence and hate that it appears the darkness is daring to extinguish the light. There have been a few times this past year that I have felt this way from the events happening in our country and around the world, and from my own personal heartbreak and struggles and that of my close friends and family. Yet, I am encouraged by the words of the psalmist in Psalm 41, “Why should we fear when evil days come, when wicked deceivers surround me . . . but God will redeem me from the realm of the dead; he will surely take me to himself.” It is comforting to remember that the world has experienced other evil and wicked days throughout human history and, that through it all, God is still good and still on the throne. Even on days when it does not seem like it, we can still cling to and believe fully in the promise of Psalm 119.64, “The earth is filled with your love Lord; teach me your decrees.” He is still faithful to love, and he will teach us his ways so that we can love and bring light into this world that sometimes seems to hold only darkness.

The long awaited promise has come in Jesus Christ our Messiah, we get to remember, celebrate and share that beautiful truth this Advent season! And we get to look forward and remember that he who was and is, is still to come; Jesus is still Almighty and he is not finished yet.

Hunter Wade Senior, Faith and Social Justice

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Monday, December 18  Psalms 33, 50  Zechariah 4.1–14  Matthew 25.1–13  Revelation 4.9–5.5 The Advent hymn, “Blessed Be the God of Israel” by Michael Perry (Merle’s Tune) proclaims, God shall fulfill the promise to bring our people peace . . .

O bless our God and Savior with songs that never cease.

The hymn speaks of Israel’s God, who visits and redeems a people, and fulfills a promise by giving them a child of grace, a Savior who will lead them to their eternal home.

I am struck by the prominence of the word “our” in the hymn. It demands attention in a culture where words are often so cheap they are sold for little bits of fame and large buckets of power. But this word—this “our”—is vitally important. It is the master stroke of Dante’s and the Martins’ pens, Luther and King. But to whom does “our” refer?

Does it point to the whole world as in “Joy to the world?” Perhaps only to the faithful invited to Bethlehem, those “joyful and triumphant?”

Is this little word “our” metonymy, a part for some whole?

I passed a church marquee the other day that displayed Psalm 33.12 from the King James Bible: “Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD; and the people whom he hath chosen for his own inheritance.”

While I cannot be certain that this church and/or pastor intended to send a message about the present or future identity of this country— the United States of America—I cannot dismiss the possibility either.

I wonder, however, if Christians should exercise more reservation in possessing the pronouns of this Psalm, of the hymn above. Most Hebrew Bible scholars that I know would point out that “the nation” and “the people” here refer to Israel, and no one else, not even a nation state.

Theologians describe the willful Christian hesitation to identify God’s people in modern, political terms as the eschatological reserve. This reserve, Johann Baptist Metz declares, “forces us constantly into a critical and liberating position towards the social circumstances about us.” We must be careful about identifying the churches, Christian schools and other human institutions we inhabit as extensions of God’s kingdom.

Christians might display less confidence and more humility in identifying God’s blessed people. Historically, when Christians proclaim something as “ours,” it is often been bad news for the other.

If Immanuel means “God with us,” then might we think about whose Immanuel is this little baby.

Andy Watts Associate Professor of Religion 21

Tuesday, December 19  Psalms 40, 51, 54  Zechariah 7.8–8.8  Matthew 25.14–30  Revelation 5.6–14 As you read today’s passages, notice how often eyes, ears and hearts are mentioned.

The psalmist speaks of the joy of God hearing his cry, a new song restored to him. The gifts of seeking God brings an open ear and the word of God written upon his heart. These gifts could not be contained but were shared with the whole congregation. God’s steadfast love and faithfulness will not be contained.

Next the psalmist witnesses that even with this full heart, evil overtakes him from outside and from within. This surrounding prevents his sight and his heart fails him. And in Psalm 51, familiar to many, the marking of sight, heart and hearing show the path of seeing oneself clearly as a sinner, as able to learn wisdom through giving attention in deep inner work and finally hearing returns through the restoration possible in forgiveness. The psalmist pleads for a clean heart, promising he will sing and declare praise to God. In Zechariah the link continues. The hearers refused to listen, gave God the cold shoulder and stopped up their ears. Their hearts hardened and their ears were blocked.

Is it possible that we are that interconnected? That our senses are dynamically connected to our hearts? Maybe a better question is could it be possible that the God who imagined wholeness for the world and for all creatures in it, did not make us that interconnected?

When our hearts are broken, our senses are dulled. And when we are restored and fully alive, our senses are attuned to the frequency of God’s love and mercy in the world.

So in a world filled with too much noise and stimuli, in a season when busyness is claimed as a badge of honor, perhaps we need some silence and stillness to attune to the frequency of the One who came as a baby to bring wholeness to the world.

Judy Skeen Professor of Religion

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Wednesday, December 20  Psalms 8, 24, 29, 84  Genesis 3.8–15  John 3.16–21  Revelation 12.1–10 We always had a huge Christmas Eve dinner at my Uncle Harold’s and Aunt Jane’s house. We would play football, tackle football, of course, it was the ‘80s after all, and childhood injuries were considered a requisite part of growing up. We would eat too much, exchange presents, shoot each other with fake guns and then shoot real fireworks outside. Who shoots fireworks on Christmas Eve? My family does apparently. I can still see my uncles and older cousins running across the yard, to the field next to the house, where invariably during dry Decembers, one of the fireworks would catch the field on fire.

I love Christmas memories. Maybe it is because I am given to nostalgia, to the twilit parts of ourselves, to that function of looking back that allows us to crystalize into memory precious times in our lives, where at least in hindsight, everything appears right and ordered and beautiful.

Of course, that is the danger of nostalgia, to color memory in a light that ignores the dark sides of even the most beautiful moments.

In our collective memory, the Garden of Eden is the location of our nostalgia. That place where human life was capable of being lived without pain. The passage of Scripture for today from the book of Genesis, locates us in the Garden, after the act of disobedience but before the moment of judgment occurs. It is an innocence still, but a knowing innocence. The man and the woman, hearing God walking towards them in the cool of the evening, hide themselves. Perhaps they hide themselves because they know things have changed, that things have changed irreparably. Perhaps they hide, holding onto the place they know they will never be able to get back to, that easy communion with one another and with God. We live now with this same longing, the desire for an easy communion with God and with one another. We live too, though, with the knowledge of our brokenness, with knowledge of our need for healing.

This Christmas, I want to live with my nostalgia, with my backwardfacing longing, but I want to live also, in this moment, with the forwardfacing longing of anticipation; with the longing and anticipation that the coming of Christ each year reminds us that our brokenness is not the end of the story, that our healing is underway, that wholeness might yet come again to our human hearts.

Donovan McAbee Associate Professor of Religion and the Arts

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Thursday, December 21  Psalms 66, 67, 116, 117  1 Samuel 2.1b–10  Luke 1.26–38  Titus 2.1–10 Christmas is a wonderful time of year! How often do we hear that said or reiterated in Christmas carols this time of year? Christmas programming depicts happiness everywhere and covertly tells us we are flawed if we do not feel the spirit. The sad truth is that, for many, Christmas is a reminder of dreams that never came true and mistakes made. It is here the true meaning of Christmas, Christ’s birth, and the history of his birth becomes especially meaningful.

Upon hearing she was to conceive and give birth to a son, Luke 1.29 says Mary was “confused and disturbed.” I am sure at that moment and in the days to come, Mary’s confusion might be more in sync with worry and less with what we might call a “Christmas Spirit.” Despite her confusion and other emotions, however, Mary decided to trust God, accept her role as God’s “servant,” and move into an uncertain future.

The Scripture also states in Luke 1.36 that Elizabeth conceived in her old age despite having thought she was barren. I can only imagine the disappointments Elizabeth faced prior to her conception. Each year must have been another reminder of the child she desired and consequently, the life she would never have. Her pregnancy must also have created a sense of renewal as a life she once thought impossible emerged.

Reading about these women helped me view Christmas differently.

Mary and Elizabeth reminded me that Christmas is a time of renewal, an opportunity to start over. No matter how many mistakes made over the past year or how bleak things appear, God can do miraculous things when we are patient and obedient.

So, regardless of the mistakes you make this past year, I challenge you to seek not only God’s forgiveness but your own. We have the power to forgive ourselves and others, make amends and start anew. Mostly, I challenge you to trust God and have patience.

Let us use this time of renewal to make a new start in our own lives and to remember that through God all things are possible. He loves us and has great plans when we are patient. “God has surely listened and heard my prayer. Praise be to God who has not rejected my prayer or withheld his love from me” (Psalm 66.19–20).

Here is to a renewal, patience, obedience and a wonderful time of year.

Janet Hicks Professor and Director of Mental Health Counseling

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Friday, December 22  Psalms 72, 111, 113  2 Samuel 7.1–17  Luke 1.39–48a, 48b–56  Titus 2.11–3.8a It is often helpful to think of the Bible as an ever-expanding horizon of what human beings expect of themselves and others and God. If we skip straight to what we think we know of the hope made known in Jesus, we risk losing a sense of our own context as well as that of the people whose long experience of God gives us the collection that is the Bible itself.

Today’s passage from 2 Samuel features the prophet Nathan giving King David the “all clear!” to proceed with building a house for the ark of God. Within hours, Nathan is made to realize that he spoke too soon. As a man of violence, David is not fit to pursue such a project, but the privilege of the prophetic over the priestly and the royal is set in motion. In Nathan’s oracle, a worthy offspring is promised who will bring more than a house and an even better kingdom than David can imagine. The messianic expectation will evolve in a final righting of human disorder, and that hope is expected to take the form of solid, facts-on-the-ground, social reordering, a shuffling of the fates that leads to everyday thriving for the people of Israel.

These hopes are voiced in each of our Psalms as prayers for the flourishing of righteousness among administrators the allegedly administrated are lifting up. Mary will enjoin herself in these hopes as she knows the blessing of believing that such visions will be fulfilled in the life of her child, even though she will often prove personally puzzled over Jesus’ behavior. Others too will wonder how getting arrested and suffering state execution could be part of a plan for reversing the endless degradation of human beings in the here and now.

But how God’s righteousness is to be realized among us was and is a complicated question. God reigns, we are assured throughout the biblical canon, but rightly discerning this reign is a difficult task requiring new and unexpected feats of attentiveness on the part of the God-seeking community. “The grace of God has appeared . . . The saying is sure,” the letter to Titus insists. True power and wisdom, we are made to see, are contrary to what we have been prone to credit as worthy. What unworthy conceptions of greatness will we need to put away in the days to come?

David Dark Assistant Professor of Religion and the Arts

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Saturday, December 23  Psalms 93, 96, 148, 150  Isaiah 61.1–11  Luke 1.67–80 or Matthew 1.1–17  Galatians 3.15–22 The Genealogy of Jesus found in The Gospel of Matthew is not your typical Advent text. Here we are not first introduced to the wise men, the angel Gabriel or Emperor Augustus’s decree for Joseph to return to Bethlehem. There is no Mary riding on the donkey, no guiding star, no manger. We only have a list of 42 names (actually 47 if you count Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Mary, and “Wife of Uriah”) to open the New Testament and introduce us to Jesus the Messiah.

I find great hope in this text as I am packing up my car to head home for Christmas because Jesus came from a messed-up family too!

Abraham tried to kill his son and pawn his wife off as his sister. Jacob tricked his father and stole the family birthright. Boaz married his kinsman’s dead son’s wife. David became a King because of his beautiful eyes and handsome appearance and not because he was qualified. He then got a married woman pregnant, murdered her husband, and tried to cover it up.

Adulterers, liars, murderers, cheaters, half-truth tellers . . . those were Jesus’s people.

As I think about sitting around the table with my family on Christmas and rehashing old stories I think about Jesus. I think about pre-ministry Jesus sitting around the table at Mary’s house. I imagine Elizabeth in the kitchen looking back at the table whispering to Mary, “Is Jesus dating anybody?” Maybe Mary responds back, “Is John ever going to cut that hair and get some real clothes?” Joseph is in the workshop with Zachariah wondering if Jesus is ever going to get a real job.

That is family.

It is hard and confusing. They never get it. They do not always see your accomplishments or what you are doing as significant but they are your family. May we remember this Christmas season to love, forgive, breathe in, breathe out and cherish our sacred time together because the Messiah is coming to redeem the world!

Amy Violette Adjunct Faculty and College of Theology and Christian Ministry Alumni

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Week Four By thine own eternal Spirit, Rule in all our hearts alone; By thine all-sufficient merit Raise us to thy glorious throne.

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Sunday, December 24  Psalms 45, 46  Isaiah 59.15b–21  Matthew 1.18–25  Galatians 3.23–4.7 I am writing this from a room full of college students who are pouring their hearts out in worship. It is late at night and most of them likely have class, an internship or a job to be at early tomorrow morning.

It is not quite the weekend. In fact, it is the middle of the week. We all probably should not be out this late. Yet here we are. We are all here for the same reason: Jesus. We are all here because of the same reason: we were invited to come.

There is a lot that I could write about concerning present day problems, but most of it has already been written. The world is grieving and the earth is crying out. It seems as though the mountains are shaking in fear rather than moving in faith, the seas are raging rather than being still and humans are trembling more than darkness is. In a time when the nations are indeed in an uproar and wars are seemingly at hand, we must refuse to overlook what is in the midst of all the chaos.

It is something so simple, yet so sweet. It is something that is often overlooked and undervalued because our society has taught us that we should just expect this kind gesture.

It is an invitation. God is reaching out His hand to each of us in hope that we might reach back. He is inviting us to come. He is inviting us to behold His works. He is reminding us that He is with us. He is whispering that we can be still. He is making space for us to rest. He is our refuge. He is with us.

This Advent season, be encouraged to not take this invitation for granted, and more importantly, do not miss it. Do not fail to see a personal invitation from God because of the public tragedies that surround us. Step back from your everyday routine and intentionally look for how He is inviting you to come into today. It will likely change, because He is too creative to send the same invitation repeatedly. He might send it in a sunrise, but you will have to be awake to see it. He might send it through a person you pass, but you will have to interact with them to receive it. He might sing it over you, but you will simply have to allow Him to cover you with music.

Cheyenne Corbine Senior, Christian Leadership

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Monday, December 25  Psalms 2, 85, 110.1–5, 132  Zechariah 2.10–13  John 3.31–36  1 John 4.7–16 I long ago became wearied by the nations conspiring and the peoples plotting in vain (Psalm 2.1). The constant digital stream of name-calling, posturing, politicizing and demonizing wears on a person’s soul.

The Advent season comes as blessed relief.

Apart from the silliness of fussing over “Merry Christmas!” or “Happy Holidays!” we mostly decide to love each other a little more, share a few more cups ‘o kindness and generally wish each other a double portion of good will. It is good for our world-wearied souls.

For the last few weeks faculty, staff and students of Belmont University have shared with you from Scripture of their hopes and longings for the coming of Jesus into our lives during these world-wearied days.

I always find their reflections food for my soul, a kind of medicine to help bring me closer to Christ each year. I hope you have taken the journey with me reading scripture and praying, thinking about our many devotionals and finding yourself drawn nearer, nearer to Christ at Christmas.

This morning, this Christmas morning, we celebrate the once and future coming of Jesus Christ. He is a most special gift to all of us. As the gospel writer says, “The Father loves the Son and has placed all thing in his hands” (John 3.35).

There is hope in this little one that comes on Christmas day, with all things placed in his tiny little hands. There is hope he will grow and one day carry the world to a place where we can all love one another and in loving one another have love perfected in us (1 John 4.11–12).

There is hope.

It is a good Christmas hope. It is a good Christmas promise. It is love enough to make us new.

Merry Christmas!

Darrell Gwaltney Dean, College of Theology and Christian Ministry

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College of Theology & Christian Ministry Vision

The College of Theology & 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 emphasis on contemplative spirituality and social justice.

Purpose

The purpose of the College of Theology & 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.

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 consists of more than 8,000 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 90 areas of undergraduate study, 19 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.

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Faculty and Staff Dr. Darrell Gwaltney, Dean Ms. Tola Akhom-Pokrywka, Assistant to the Dean & Budget Manager Ms. Brianna Bradshaw, Administrative Assistant Dr. Marty Bell, Church History Dr. Robert Byrd, Greek & New Testament (Emeritus) Dr. Ann Coble, Lecturer 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. Ernest Heard, Lecturer Dr. Janet Hicks, Mental Health Counseling Dr. Sally Holt, Christian Ethics Dr. Tom Knowles-Bagwell, Mental Health Counseling Dr. Mary Mayorga, Mental Health Counseling Dr. Donovan McAbee, Religion and the Arts Dr. Mark McEntire, Hebrew & Old Testament Dr. Amanda Miller, Greek & New Testament Dr. Gideon Park, Belmont Fellow Dr. Beth Ritter-Conn, Lecturer Dr. Steven Simpler, Theology (Emeritus) Dr. Judy Skeen, Biblical Studies & Spiritual Formation Dr. Andy Watts, Christian Ethics

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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.

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