2019 Advent Guide

Belmont University

ADVENT DEVOTIONAL GUIDE 2019

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A DVENT 2019 It is my pleasure to offer to the Belmont University community our 16th annual Advent Guide. This year we are called to “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence” for “Christ our God to earth descendeth.”

In this season of Advent we wait carefully and purposefully 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, Emmanuel!

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 begin longing for Advent in September when they work on this guide. I am thankful for their kind and thoughtful participation. Join them now in longing for the coming Christ!

I am grateful to Thomas Burns, the Provost of Belmont University, for his annual support of this project. I also especially thank Tola Pokrywka, Assistant to the Dean for the College of Theology and Christian Ministry. Tola concludes her fourth year with us during this Advent season and we are deeply grateful for her faithful service, love for students, and commitment to the work of the CTCM! Without her, this Advent Guide would not happen.

May all our hearts call out together this year for the Christ to come among us, to stand among us, to clear the darkness away, to raise “Alleluia! Alleluia!” in our hearts! May the Christ come to all of us this Christmas!

Blessings,

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

G U IDE TO D AILY PRAY ER OPENING P RAY ER Let all mortal flesh keep silence, and with fear and trembling stand; ponder nothing earthly minded, for with blessing in His hand Christ our God to earth descendeth, our full homage to demand.

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

SC RI PT UR E L ESSON S 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.

P RAYER S The following is a suggested guide for prayer during Advent.

ray for all Christians around the world and especially P for those who endure persecution for their faith.

Pray for our nation and all those in authority.

ray that Christ’s peace may cover the world. Pray for P the end of conflict and war and the triumph of truth and justice.

ray for all those who engage in the educational ministry P of the Church and especially for Belmont University.

Pray for those who suffer and grieve.

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

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WEEK ON E Let all mortal flesh keep silence, and with fear and trembling stand; ponder nothing earthly minded, for with blessing in His hand Christ our God to earth descendeth, our full homage to demand.

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SUNDAY, D ECEM BER 1  Psalms 111, 112, 113, 146, 147  Amos 1.1–5, 1.13–2.8  Luke 21.5–19  1 Thessalonians 5.1–11 Advent always begins like this, and growing up, it often startled me on the first Sunday of Advent. In my head, I was getting ready for Christmas carols and choir music and presents and nativity sets. Then in church, they would read a passage like 1 Thessalonians 5 or Luke 21, predicting destruction, war, earthquakes, famines and “dreadful portents.” (I remember thinking as a kid, what even is a dreadful portent?!? And why are we talking about them instead of the baby in the manger right now?)

So, why are these the Scriptures to kick off the season, anyway?

Advent is a time of preparation for the coming of Christ. That “coming,” however, encompasses both the Incarnation of Jesus as a human infant, and the eschatological coming of Jesus to complete the establishment of God’s reign. And that’s where these “signs of the end” passages come to us.

Left to our own devices, they remind us, we humans misuse our power and our privilege, over and over again. We engage in wars and conflicts (Luke 21.9-10, 12, 16). We “trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth” for our own gain (Amos 2.6-7). We put earthly divisions and values above the community embodied by Jesus, and earthly loyalties above our call to love God and love neighbor.

The first Sunday of Advent calls us to hope, but what good is hope in the face of wars and rumors of wars and famine and portents and injustice and conflict? If we think of hope as a warm fuzzy thing that naively expects everything to turn out okay, then, well, the answer is, not much good. However, Brené Brown reminds us that hope is active, not passive. Hope comes out of struggle; we learn how to hope by persisting; by trying, failing, and trying again; by believing in the truth and continuing to strive toward it (Daring Greatly, pp. 239-240).

For hope this week, I turn to our readings from the Psalms. They celebrate and remind us that God’s reign, our hope, is different than the exercise of human rule. God’s power provides justice and redemption for all people (Ps 111); the motivation to share our wealth and deal justly with others (112); a helping hand to the poor and needy (113); justice for the oppressed, the foreigners, the prisoners (146); and even rain for the earth and food for the animals (147). Jesus’ life and incarnation as a fellow human being embodied this kingdom on earth. We too are called to actively embody such hope in our lives, in all we do, from now until the coming of the Lord.

Amanda C. Miller Associate Professor of Biblical Studies

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M O NDAY, D ECEM BER 2  Psalms 1, 2, 3, 4, 7  Amos 2.6-16  2 Peter 1.1-11  Matthew 21.1-11 Jesus was the Messiah who was promised many years before His appearance on earth. While the Old Testament saints may have wondered how long they would need to wait before the long-promised Messiah arrived, Christ’s incarnation was an affirmation that God keeps his promises. As prophesied, He was crushed for our iniquities and by His wounds we are healed (Isa. 53.5). Jesus, the incarnate Son of God came to seek and save the lost. God promised, and it came to pass.

Both Holy Scripture and our Christian experience teaches us that God keeps his promises. Psalm 4 is full of reassuring promises for those who are burdened with adversity of all kinds. These burdens might include our outward circumstances or even the anxieties that arise within us. Troubles and worries sometimes seem to abound! The psalmist wrote: “You have given me relief when I was in distress” (Ps. 4.1). Have faith! When distressed, as we all are at various times in our lives, remember that “the LORD hears when we call to him” (Ps. 4.3) In our distress, in our anxiety, and when we feel the onslaught of daily hassles or life-changing events, we know to put our trust in our God (Ps. 4.5). What greater assurance can we have than remembering and meditating on the promises of God! If God is for us, who can be against us? Ponder the glorious promises we have in Christ.

It is God who puts joy in our hearts, and it is in Christ we find true rest. Let us all mediate on the many promises we have from God always with the confidence that He keeps all of His promises. Then, like the psalmist, we can rest in Him with peace and comfort knowing that it is God who keeps us safe. We are safe from the real and ultimate troubles of life, and we can also count on God to save us from the daily anxieties that beset us. The Lord makes us dwell in safety (Ps. 4.8)!

Bryce Sullivan Dean, College of Liberal Arts and Social Sciences

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T UESDAY, D ECEM BER 3  Psalms 5, 6, 10, 11  Amos 3.1–11  2 Peter 1.12–21  Matthew 21.12–22 One of the liturgical trends related to Advent is that some have preferred that we soften its rough edges to make it more compatible with the coming joy of Christmas. I understand the thinking behind that trend. As there seems to be no end to the ever-expanding Christmas season extravaganza, Advent has morphed for many into a sort of spiritual side of the Christmas season to remind us, as they say, “to remember the reason for the season.” Some have advocated changing the traditional color of the candles in the Advent Wreath from dark purple, a traditional color of mourning and repentance, to blue to remind us of the birth of Jesus and the tradition of blue being the color associated with the Virgin Mary. Increasingly I encounter those who insist that The Twelve Days of Christmas are before Christmas Day. I confess there is a part of me that likes Advent being a kind of sentimental staging for Christmas, because it allows me to enter into a spiritual connection to the joyous mood of the larger culture before Christmas.

However, we miss something really important when we soften the original spirit of Advent, which was a spirit of repentance accompanied with an appropriate somberness. Advent reminds us that to follow Christ is to be disruptive to the values of the kingdoms of humans and to align ourselves with the Kingdom of God. Today’s reading from the Gospel of Matthew reminds us of the disruptiveness of the gospel, especially when it provoked that disruption on the grounds of the Temple in Jerusalem. Jesus, recognizing the commercialism that had distorted the purpose of the Temple, overturned the tables of the money changers and then he had the audacity to heal the blind and the lame for free! The alignment of organized religion with commercial enterprise then and now distorts our vision and manipulates humans in ways that do not reflect the values of the Kingdom of God. Our readings from the Bible today remind us to be disrupters of the distortion. Rather than turning Advent into a spiritual side of a misplaced and front-loaded Christmas season, I want to let Advent be Advent, and I want to let Christmas be Christmas. In my experience, keeping a traditional Advent prepares my heart for a joyous and reflective Twelve Days of Christmas, from Christmas Day through Epiphany.

Marty Bell Professor of Religion

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W E D NESDAY, D ECEMBER 4  Psalms 12, 13, 14, 119.1-24  Amos 3.12-4.5  2 Peter 3.1-10  Matthew 21.23-32 Steadfast. For most, this is hardly an appropriate characterization of the spirit of the Christmas season. In today’s world, Christmas is naturally approached and experienced as the apex of a culture in which hurry and possession are glorified, where rest and authenticity are sacrificed at the altar of a falsified pursuit of personal achievement.

In today’s Psalms, we find a series of individual and communal laments in which the psalmist expresses his deep anguish over the dishonesty of those in positions of power and authority over the people of God: “Everyone utters lies to his neighbor; with flattering lips and a double heart they speak” (Psalm 12.2). In the shadow of such grief, the psalmist recognizes that it is nothing but the words of the Lord, which are “like silver refined in a furnace on the ground, purified seven times,” that administer the necessary antidote (Psalm 12.6). Though my enemies have exalted over me, “I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation” (Psalm 13.5). In a climate of such deception and insincerity, the enduring promises of the Lord offer a hope that redeems and refreshes.

In the midst of our brokenness, corruption, haste, and wandering, there remains a Word unchanging. May our hearts be tethered to it.

In the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, we see this very Word made flesh.

We see the humble arrival of a magnificent Savior. May we lean into His gentle embrace as we reflect upon his gracious atonement and look forward to his glorious return.

In response to this miraculous reality of Christmas, let us dare to reclaim this Advent season as one of humble gratitude and hopeful expectation. Where the world finds itself in a clouded frenzy of busyness and selfish ambition, let the people of God be a body that gives of itself, expecting nothing in return and pointing to the everflowing river of peace and mercy that is Jesus Christ. May our joy, our peace, and our hope be dependent not on something or someone that we may lose, but be rooted in the One whose promises are unwavering. He waits to be wanted.

Jackson Wallace Junior, Biblical Studies

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T H U R SDAY, D ECEM BER 5  Psalms 12, 13, 14, 119.1–24  Isaiah 2.1–4  Luke 20.19–26  1 Thessalonians 2.13–20 Ten years ago, I taught English composition class at a community college. I can freely confess this now—so many years later—I did not know what I was doing. I did not have a clue. I was given the outline of a syllabus and a book of essays to use. It was a small class—ten or eleven students—yet that tiny sampling of humans was diverse by age and ethnicity—the students’ ages ranged from around eighteen to sixty.

One of the essays we read together that semester was Martin Luther King Jr’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail”—that great work of American literature with such piercing quotes as “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” In that letter, King recalls the story of an African American woman in her 70s, who had taken part in the Montgomery Bus Boycott, who said of her plight in those days of walking to her job, “My feets is tired, but my soul is at rest.”

The night we discussed King’s letter something happened in the room—people started telling their stories, connecting with the content of the letter. An African-American student in his late 20s talked about growing up in Nashville, about the wounds that racism had left on him. A middle-aged African-American woman shared about names she’d been called. A white man in his 30s, who’d recently left the military, shared about the household he grew up in, the Rebel flag that flew above his house, how his father taught him to hate anyone who was not white, and how long it had taken him to change his own views of others. There was a vulnerability in their stories, tears even. We all felt the longing for justice in that classroom, as we shared stories of injustice, intolerance, and the wounds they caused for so many in our class.

As we look toward Christmas, we are reminded of the words from 2 Peter, that remind us of the “new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home.” While we wait here on this earth, preparing ourselves for the birth of Jesus, let us actively long for justice, for righteousness. May we be like the woman, King talks about, may our feet be tired, and our souls at rest.

Donovan McAbee Associate Professor of Religion and the Arts

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F R I DAY, DECEMBER 6  Psalms 16, 17, 22  Amos 5.1-17  Jude 1-16  Matthew 22.1-14 One of the ways in which I cast my eyes to the Lord is by looking up into the sky to marvel at the creation of the cosmos. Many of us have seen the vastness of stars, and perhaps some shooting stars when we are further removed from the city lights of Nashville. At times it can be a bit disheartening to look up and only see a little glimmer of the brightest stars peeking through the light pollution. In the same token, when I see those bright stars, I am reminded of all the glory of the galaxy that is hidden beyond what I can see.

I believe that this reflects the tension that each of us live within daily. On earth we see those who turn justice to bitterness and cast righteousness to the ground (Amos 5). We are witnesses of the environmental, economic, and political injustices which leave us feeling a bit hopeless. However, although we are called to have an empathetic heart for the brokenness we encounter, we are also called to seek and be revealed to the wonders of God’s great love (Psalm 17).

During this Advent season, we are reminded of the tangible hope that came with Jesus being brought into this world. God compassionately loves our mess and will continually meet us wherever we are. Jesus was and is and is to come—He is our bright, shimmering star that peers through our physical and mental pollutants. In keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, we shall not be shaken, as He will continually make known the path of life and will fill us with joy and preserve us with eternal pleasures (Psalm 16). We can see this rejuvenate hope of Jesus through the people who provide shelter and warm food to the homeless in the icy, crisp weather, through the baking of cookies with loved ones, or singing carols to local retirement centers, neighborhoods, or prisoners. These all carry a certain light of Jesus that people crave when they are feeling gloomy. In every season, we are given the opportunity to steward and gift ourselves to others revealing the hope, strength, glory, and light of Jesus that is beyond what eyes can see. What an incredibly vast picture of love and glory we are invited to continually seek and take part in with our lives.

May you be blessed with peace, hope, and love this season!

Jessica Rame Senior, Faith and Social Justice

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SAT UR DAY, D ECEMBER 7  Psalms 20, 21.1-7, 110.1-7, 116, 117  Amos 5.18-27  Jude 17-25  Matthew 22.15-22 The hymn noted in this year’s Advent season calls all mortals to keep silent before the Lord. In the original Advent preceding Christ’s coming to earth, it was God who seemed to have kept silent—for four centuries.

Since the close of the Old Testament, the Hebrew nation had for centuries not heard the type of prophecies and activities that seemed to end with the prophecies of Malachi. Many Hebrews became discouraged at the seemingly endless years of silence that failed to yield their Messiah. After many centuries of debate, the Hebrews’ expectations of their Messiah had gained overtones of political or even military deliverance, rather than spiritual deliverance.

Jesus addressed this when he answered the religious leaders with his well-known words, "[R]ender to Caesar the things that are Caesar's; and to God the things that are God's” (Matt. 22.21). Here and elsewhere, Jesus made a clear distinction between the earthly and the spiritual, which likely came as somewhat of a disappointment to many who had come to expect the Messiah to bring deliverance from Rome’s occupation of their homeland.

Today, as we anticipate Christmas, we also look toward Christ’s return.

Like the Hebrews that awaited the Messiah’s arrival, we may yearn for the fulfilment of the promise of Christ’s return—we may even get discouraged that Christ has not yet returned. Christ himself has given us this promise of his return; there is neither uncertainty nor hesitance about this coming event. Our perception of his “delay” may mirror the Hebrews’ angst that the Messiah had not appeared on their timeline, but it happened in the fullness of God’s timing.

It should not surprise us that some think of the unfulfilled promise of Christ’s return as an indication that this event is purely fictional—likely, many in the years preceding Christ’s birth made the same assertions. Remember, though, that Jude’s epistle echoes those of Peter and Paul—there will be those who scoff or mock Christ’s “delay,” and those scoffers will be divisive within the Church. Our instruction, however, is not to doubt, but to maintain our spiritual focus.

As we prepare in this Advent season to celebrate the birth of the Savior, let’s rediscover a child-like eagerness for this holy day. Let’s also continually prepare—with that same eagerness—for the Advent of the Second Coming of Christ to earth.

Larry Brown Budget Manager, Office of the Provost

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

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SUNDAY, D ECEM BER 8  Psalms 114, 115, 148, 149, 150  Amos 6.1-14  2 Thessalonians 1.5-12  Luke 1.57-68 I might have been named Jesse Hagan. Or Pasquale. I was the first male grandchild to be born on either my father’s or my mother’s side of the family. Various female relatives had already been named after the matriarchs of the family, and so now, the patriarchs of the family—my father’s grandfather (Jesse Hagan), and my mother’s father (Pasquale)—scrambled to attach their own brand to the asyet-unnamed infant. (My father, the family legend goes, had his own “Zechariah Moment,” declaring: “We’re not gonna name him after anyone! He’s gonna have his own name!” I am grateful.)

I’ve always loved the story of Elizabeth and Zechariah. I love that God’s cosmic redemptive plan included a joyfully redemptive moment for these two individuals—an elderly couple whose age had not erased the bitterness of childlessness. Now very near the end of their lives, they realize that there will be no one to carry on their name, no one to receive their inheritance, no one to take up the family business. And yet . . . Zechariah says: “His name is John.” (“But none of your relatives is called by this name!” exclaim the shocked friends and family, pausing in astonishment by the punch bowl at the big Naming Party.)

The coming of God’s kingdom means blessing and joy for those who have known disappointment. But receiving this kingdom also means a willingness to set aside one’s own agenda, one’s own plans, one’s own particular ambitions and notional legacy. The Kingdom of God, in other words, is not the domain of those who are determined to “make a name for themselves.” The baby for his part, learns his father’s lesson well. As he grows into a great prophet he will likewise have the courage to set aside his own name, that another’s name might be glorified: “He must increase, and I must decrease” (John 3.30).

Steve Guthrie Professor of Theology/Religion and the Arts

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M O NDAY, D ECEM BER 9  Psalms 9, 15, 25  Amos 7.1-9  Revelation 1.1-8  Matthew 22.23-33 How does your family pass the time when you are anticipating something happening? My family is not good at waiting, and so we have devised all sorts of methods to pass the time. When we go on vacation, we make a paper chain with interesting facts about our destination and read one each night. At other times we create a calendar and take turns marking off the days one by one. One of my favorite waiting tactics is having a question each night at dinner about what we are most looking forward to about our trip. Sometimes our days of waiting are filled with all of them. No matter which way we choose to pass the time, we look for ways to remind ourselves again and again exactly what it is for which we are waiting.

Advent is a time of waiting for the church. It is a time that helps us, year after year, to be reminded that God’s work through Jesus that was begun in the incarnation has not yet reached its culmination. It is a time that reminds us that we are waiting for something more.

Today’s text from the book of Revelation serves for us as a reminder to its readers that Christ is indeed coming again and this time no one will miss it.

Despite this promise, it is often hard to wait—after all the promise of Christ’s return was almost two thousand years ago and the hope of that promise can easily fade away. The church must continually look for ways to be reminded of that for which she waits. We tell stories of who Jesus is, what his ministry was all about, and the call that we have received to continue his work of loving and serving our neighbor, of caring for the poor, of attending to the widows, and of meeting the needs of the orphans among us. We proclaim with and for one another the good news we see in verse 8, “I am the Alpha and the Omega, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.” We cannot spend our time just telling about Jesus’ work, we must also join Jesus in his work. You see, it is in our working and our waiting that we are reminded of that for which we wait—the one who is and who was and who is to come.

Heather Daugherty University Minister

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T UESDAY, D ECEM BER 10  Psalms 26, 28, 36, 39  Amos 7.10-17  Matthew 22.34-46  Revelation 1.9-16 Isn’t the Advent season remarkable?! There’s a wondrous sense of anticipation in the air that makes us want to sing. Isn’t it marvelous the miraculous effect the Advent season can have on us? Maybe it is the uplifting music that permeates the air, or attending worship services, or reading the story of Jesus’ birth in Matthew and Luke’s Gospels, or the Christmas Eve candlelight service at church or, more probably, a blending of all of these.

Granted, we know how the story unfolds and how it culminates in the birth of the Christ Child; indeed, this knowledge enhances our expectation. There is a miraculous magic to Advent that never gets old. This is God’s special spiritual gift to us every year at this time! In Psalm 28 King David exclaims, “My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song” (v. 8, NIV). We all have our favorite Advent/ Christmas songs. My favorite is Do You Hear What I Hear? Without quoting the entire song, here are a few selected phrases: “A Star, a Star dancing in the Night . . . A Song, a Song, high above the trees . . . A Child, a Child shivers in the cold . . . The Child, the Child will bring us goodness and light!” I love the excitement this song evokes. When I hear it and sing it, David’s words come back to me as he gave thanks to God in song.

The miracle of Advent, however, does not seem to happen within me unless I behold the season as a special gift from God. Like Ebenezer Scrooge, I reflect back on Christmases past and, with sadness, there were some years the miracle of Advent did not seem to happen within me. For those Christmases when the miracle happened, I know it was because I gave intentional time to reflect and ponder Advent as a gift from God. As I think about these things I offer this prayer for all of us: “Thank you, our loving, wonderful Father for this gift! It stirs deep within us as it connects us with those present at Jesus’ birth and with kindred spirits throughout history. We truly feel at one with you and all creation. Amen” I will leave you with this thought—God in Christ waits to be discovered.

Find your song this Advent!

Ernest Heard Visiting Professor, College of Theology & Christian Ministry

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W E D NESDAY, D ECEMBER 1 1  Psalms 119.25-48, 38  Revelation 1.17-2.7  Matthew 23.1-12  Amos 8.1-14 It is around this time of the Christmas season when I feel my mind, my body, and my spirit begging for a break. Finals are finally over, tasks from the fall semester are dwindling down, and campus is closing soon for the holidays. I can breathe.

As I sit here reflecting over the past few months of my life, I recognize a common theme that seemed to weave itself throughout the fall semester: the need for Jesus to be my strength amid many responsibilities. I look back and see a girl whose own strength failed and who may have lost the light of her eyes at times due to being overwhelmed and overcommitted (Ps 38.10). Trying to find a balance between putting enough energy into both academics and a social life is already enough to leave a college student feeling drained—not to mention the internships, extracurricular activities, leadership positions, jobs, friendships, the list continues.

I am reminded of the encouragement God gives to the church of Ephesus through John’s vision in Revelation, “I know you are enduring patiently and bearing up for my name’s sake, and you have not grown weary” (Rev. 2.3). I remember that God sees me and is with me in my efforts. God calls me to make space for silence and solitude with Him, despite the busyness that may surround me. He desires to give me rest and be my strength in every season: the stressful ones full of responsibilities and the Christmas ones full of calmness.

What a life-changing blessing it is to have a God who gave us His strength in the form of a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger. We serve a God who loves to give His children good gifts, who gave us the best gift of all in His one and only Son, Jesus.

I encourage you to find strength in Jesus alone this Advent and Christmas season. Rest in knowing that nothing you do and no one in this world can determine your worth because nothing you did and no one of this world gave it to you—I know this is what I will be doing.

Many blessings and much love to you and your loved ones this Christmas, Mallory Wood Senior, Worship Leadership Belmont University

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T H U R SDAY, D ECEM BER 12  Psalms 37.1-18, 37.19-42  Amos 9.1-10  Revelation 2.8-17  Matthew 23.13-26 Today’s texts reminded me of the goodness and strangeness of reading throughout scripture during Advent. It’s easier to stay in Luke 2 and think about the angels and shepherds and baby Jesus. But Matthew calls us to see the harsh reality of hypocrisy and blindness in preventing others from seeing, hearing, and valuing the truth that can set us all free. Have we neglected justice, mercy, and faith? Have our daily patterns of moving fast prevented us from inviting others to the table of the kingdom of God? Does our behavior as “gatekeepers” of doctrinal correctness block the entrance of those seeking God’s forgiveness and grace?

I read Revelation and try to find our current experience of the church in the world placed in the unfolding story of the early church’s life.

I find myself wondering what faithfulness looks like in the midst of events happening around us. When the truth gets divided between perspectives on the far ends of the spectrum, coming together as the family of faith becomes layered with politics, economics, worship styles, models of leadership, and the tensions of living between vulnerability and strength. The stark words of Amos call a nation that thinks it is justified in all it does because of its chosen-ness to see the destructiveness of its self-interest.

As I read through the Psalms listed today, I found myself wondering how life was for Mary and Joseph. As they travelled during her pregnancy and after did they struggle with how to provide for themselves and their child? Were they welcomed in other places of refuge as they travelled? Did they feel dislodged from their home and community?

Would Joseph and Mary have found comfort in the words of the Psalmist: Trust in the Lord, and do good; so you will live in the land, and enjoy security. Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act (Ps. 37.3-5).

We wander with Mary and Joseph, with our lives of promise and our groaning, and we are invited to seek God’s refuge, to cry out our pain, and to share—in their living, in the living son of God, in our own living—to share the dark nights and the expectant days. Come dear Jesus, be born in us anew.

Judy Skeen Professor of Religion

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F R I DAY, DECEMBER 13  Psalms 31, 35  Haggai 1.1–15  Revelation 2.18–29  Matthew 23.27–39 Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!

"No judgment! No shame!" It's my phrase, when I want to get the truth out of students, friends or family, or frankly anyone who under a cloud a shame fears that telling the truth will lead to punishment or personal embarrassment. My strategy: separate out confession and self-disclosure, even truth, from any negative consequences. Yet, today's readings are chock full of judgment and exposure! I find myself wondering whether my "strategy" sacrifices an inconvenient truth (thank you, Al Gore!) for an inconsequential one.

Anyone who says "Jesus was always so kind and forgiving!" has never sat with today's passage from the Gospel of Matthew. Jesus fires off the kind of Old Testament prophetic beat down that makes you wonder whether he took a day off to apprentice rhetoric from @ realDonaldTrump instead of @MrRogersSays. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! You cross sea and land to make a single convert . . . You blind fools! . . . How can you escape being sentenced to hell? . . . All the blood of the righteous (and innocent) is on you, from the blood of righteous Abel to the innocent blood of the ones you will kill and crucify (Cf. Matt. 23.27-39). Mic-drop! Seven times, Jesus exposes the pastors, the local judges, the Sunday* (sic!) school teachers, and the religious aristocracy of Jerusalem with their catch phrases and trendy posters, pins, or flags, to the damning truths and revelations of their own religious hypocrisy, filth, and greed. It's the kind of judgment that gets you killed, the kind of truth-telling that crucifies a Messiah.

Lord Jesus, I confess I do not know how to set such truth and judgment upon my lips. I fear that my love of self and neighbor has long forgotten the fear of the Lord, before whom injustice, tender deceit, and concealed hypocrisy are exposed and destroyed. I would rather expose myself and you my students to a thousand inconsequential human judgments than to the one judgment of God that would expose and eradicate our sin. Forgive us, O Lord, and do in us what we cannot do for ourselves. Expose us to the righteous judgment of your Christ, that in His righteous anger and suffering mercy, we may find ourselves proclaiming “Yes judgment! Yes repentance!” On Christmas morning, we may thus hope to find new life and joy to celebrate the God who gives birth to us and our salvation in Christ Jesus.

Manuel A. Cruz Assistant Professor of Theology

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SAT UR DAY, D ECEMBER 14  Psalms 30, 32, 42, 43  Haggai 2.1-9  Revelation 3.1-6  Matthew 24.1-14 Are you awake right now? No, I mean obviously you’re awake because hopefully these words are processing in your brain. What I mean is are you really awake? Awake, attentive, and alert to what is actually going on around you. I know it’s a Saturday morning and you’re probably sleepy, hopefully still in your PJ’s because we’re finally on winter break, but do me a favor and simply be present and alert of the moment you’re in right now. Take a few deep breaths and think about the advent season we’re in, the excitement of Christ’s birth and his coming back again, the difficult moments of last semester, the feeling that you’re feeling right now. Take a few moments. Wake up.

We get out of bed each day and mindlessly move through every interaction, paint a smile when we see that one person we had one class with two years ago, bring up the one quote we read from the assigned reading to get the participation points, grab coffee with a peer, go home, sleep, and do it all again the next day. How ironic is it that Advent and finals season fall at the same time each year, when we are least likely to be awake, excited, and rejoicing for the coming of Jesus.

Scripture tells us to wake up (Revelation 3) and to not be silent (Psalm 32). When we are awake and aware to our faith and in our worship, our being is restored and we can rejoice again in feeling the presence of an eternal Christ. Be awake and full of joy during this season of advent, and instead of feeling worthy based on what you produce and how quickly you can achieve each day to day task, take moments to find Christ in the little things. Spend a few hours sitting and talking with your great Aunt who you don’t know very well during Christmas dinner.

Find the joy in long lines at the mall and annoyed retail workers. Be conscious to the needs of your friend that may find the holiday season extremely difficult because of grief. Be awake to how Jesus is calling you to serve and be a part of the Kingdom this Advent season.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone, may you have a restful and joyful end to 2019.

Annika Victorson Senior, Faith and Social Justice

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

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SUNDAY, D ECEM BER 15  Psalms 63.1-8, 98, 103  Amos 9.11-15  2 Thessalonians 2.1-3, 13-17  John 5.30-47 Amos is a harsh book. Almost all of it is focused on the divine response to Israel’s disobedience, so words of judgment make up most of its contents. Careful readings of the entire prophetic scroll made up of twelve parts from Hosea to Malachi find a distinct movement away from judgment as the dominant theme. Books like Haggai and Zechariah spend more time on deliverance and restoration. The final five verses of Amos (9.11-15) show a similar kind of development. The terrible story told by the first eight and a half chapters of the book finds a reversal in this final vision of a restored Judah.

The completeness of the reversal is worth pausing to observe. First, it is urban and architectural. Buildings, walls, and cities that have been destroyed are repaired and rebuilt. It is also agricultural, promising abundant harvests of grain and fruit. The reversal is expansive in its geography, pointing to both the ruins of Judah and its cities and to the traditional Edomite territory on the east side of the Jordan River.

This addition at the end of the book of Amos does more than just reverse the dominant story of judgment throughout the book. It also connects Amos to the little book of Obadiah that follows it. The single poem in Obadiah declares the destruction of the Edomite people, against whom the people of Judah had a grievance, because of the way the Edomites had assisted the Babylonians in their invasion of Judah in the early sixth century.

The desire to write a better ending to our stories fuels the Advent season. Changing the direction of our stories will change the stories of others, but do these intertwined narratives present a zero-sum game? The presumption of scarcity our society often presents to us tells us that others must lose if we are to win, because there are not enough resources to go around. Reversal may lead to loss for some, but the book of Jonah, which follows Obadiah, proposes that even the brutal Assyrians can repent and find a place in a world that is healing. The hope of Advent beckons us to believe that everybody can have a better story.

Mark McEntire Professor of Biblical Studies

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M O NDAY, D ECEM BER 16  Psalms 41, 44, 52  Zechariah 1.7-17  Revelation 3.7-13  Matthew 24.15-31 Surely God . . .

The third week of Advent is upon us. It is the time of the season we turn our hearts and minds to the peace of God that surrounds us and is given to us through Jesus the Christ. If you are anything like me (or the writer of the Psalm readings for today), it isn’t always easy to find peace in the midst of this chaotic world. We see and experience injustice. We know suffering at the hands of others or even ourselves.

We see those who practice deceit, who love evil rather than good, those who speak falsehood rather than speaking the truth (Ps 52.1-4).

Like the Psalmist, the tension of this reality rises within us and we cry out “Surely God” as the anthem of our disillusionment. Surely God sees this happening. Surely God will intervene. Surely God will make it right.

Surely God . . .

But what happens in the meantime? What happens between the knowledge of God’s promised peace and seeing its fulfillment in the world around us? How do we fully experience the promise revealed at Christmas while we experience the realities of our lives?

The Psalmist offers this image in response: But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God; I trust in God’s unfailing love for ever and ever. For what you have done I will always praise you in the presence of your faithful people. And I will hope in your name, for your name is good (Ps 52.8-9). An olive tree requires years of constant care before fruit is yielded. It is during this time that the roots of the tree are strengthened and become deep. It is our trust and hope in God that causes us to flourish in the midst of the rocky terrain of everyday life. It is the belief that our waiting has purpose that allows us to be renewed.

The season of Advent reminds us that God surely did see the chaos of the world and chose to enter into it. This season reminds us of God’s peace delivered to humanity in the form of a baby. As we celebrate the arrival of this incarnational promise, we are reminded to hold fast to hope, to trust in the unfailing goodness of God in this meantime until Christ comes again. This is where our peace is found. Not in the absence of chaos in the world, but in presence of God within it.

Christy Ridings Associate University Minister

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T UESDAY, D ECEM BER 17  Psalms 45, 47, 48  Zechariah 2.1-13  Matthew 24.32-44  Revelation 3.14-22 When we open the big book called the Bible, what we’re looking at is a varied collection of voices which, taken all together, offer an ever-expanding horizon of what human beings expect of themselves and others and God. In a time like Advent, we might be prone to skip straight to Jesus as Christ and whatever we find comforting. If we do that, we risk losing a sense of our own context as well as that of the people whose experience of God yields the Bible itself. We need to take it slow.

“Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying.” These are the words of a letter to “the angel of the church” in Laodicea within the larger letter, or collection of image and admonition, that is Revelation. The theme is that of conquering and, after long tribulation, assuming a seat on the throne of God, the Father. This part of John’s apocalypse is addressing a community of believers in Laodicea who lack for little in the way of material wealth and can perhaps afford a degree of detachment when it comes to the struggle for God’s righteousness which has placed John in exile on Patmos.

They appear to have mistaken their own social status for greatness, and John’s vision-epistle of these Laodiceans a less passive posture toward their sisters and brothers who suffer under the boot of Roman empire. They might yet conquer, but not without repenting; and not without treating those with less means as family, as a vital part of their own lives.

The throne imagery is also alive in our psalm (“Your throne, O God, endures forever and ever”), but it isn’t just any old image of authority.

It’s accompanied by a “royal scepter” that is also a “scepter of equity” (45.7) or even, we might imagine, royal because equitable. An aliveness to imagery and how everything signifies (or might be made to signify more righteously) is also put forth in Jesus admonition concerning the tenderness of a fig tree’s branches as it’s about to bear fruit. We’re called to the same work of communal discernment each of these passages embodies in their varied contexts. What righteous human efforts are we apt to miss in our own day and how might we be more alive to them?

David Dark Associate Professor of Religion and the Arts

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W E D NESDAY, D ECEMBER 1 8  Psalms 49, 119.49–72  Zechariah 3.1–10  Revelation 4.1–8  Matthew 24.45–51 Growing up, there were those kids that loved to get dirty and play in the mud outside. Maybe you were one of those kids—there’s nothing wrong with that! However, I am definitely not one of those kids. I hated getting messy. Even today, a stain on my shirt or dirty laundry on the floor can bring me into an anxious spirit for the rest of the day.

No matter how tidy I managed to keep the outside of my life, I could never get the inside of myself clean. I still had shame, sin, and resentment in my heart.

In Zechariah 3, we see a similar image of Joshua. He is the High Priest, standing before an angel with “filthy garments.”

The angel instructs those around to get rid of the filthy garments and says to Joshua, “Behold, I have taken your iniquity away from you, and I will clothe you with pure vestments” (v. 3, ESV). Notice how Joshua’s clothes do not just get washed. He gets new clothes. Because of the gift of Jesus’ presence, we can have a new identity. We can try to “clean up our act” on the outside as much as we want, but Christ is the only one that can give us a new heart. That is the Christmas story.

Christmas is a reminder of God’s promises being fulfilled. God kept his word about sending a Savior to dwell with us. There’s another promise in this passage, as well.

In verse 9, the LORD declares that “I will remove the iniquity of this land in a single day.” We cannot remember the birth of Jesus without remembering what he promised to accomplish. Jesus gave his life and rose again so that we could receive the gift of these “pure vestments.” Because of the Son—Jesus—we can also be called Children of God! We are holy, we are redeemed, we are saints, and we are a holy priesthood.

This advent season, let us remember that Jesus came to clothe us in his righteousness and invite us to a heavenly feast. May we also follow his lead, inviting others to sit down at the table with us, even when things get messy.

Brandon Billings Senior, Worship Leadership

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T H U R SDAY, D ECEM BER 19  Psalms 33, 50  Zechariah 4.1-14  Revelation 4.9-5.5  Matthew 25.1-13 “The LORD looks down from heaven; He sees all humankind.

From where he sits enthroned he watches all the inhabitants of the earth – Our soul waits for the LORD; He is our help and shield.

Our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name.

Let your steadfast love, O LORD, be upon us, even as we hope in you.” Psalm 33.13-14; 20-22 NRSV My son was about six years old. Christmas was fast approaching. He would watch television and see so many advertisements for toys that he would say “I want that” over and over again. Finally, he turned to me and said, “I just want all of the toys that are for boys.” I guess this final request summed up his wish for Christmas—that he would receive all of those things that were so enticing!

As adults we turn our thoughts toward Christmas, but the focus of our anticipation may shift away from material things. We pray for the poor to have food, water, shelter, and clothes. We want those who are lonely to feel loved and wanted. We long for those who grieve to be comforted. We hope for peace among all humankind.

There are so many discouraging news reports these days—words filled with hate and actions replete with animosity. One could be prone to despair just listening to reports for even one day. As you anticipate the coming of Jesus into the world, focus your thoughts on the Prince of Peace—Christ Jesus—and pray that the entire world will come to know Him as Savior.

Anticipate the coming of Christ into the world with a renewed sense of hope. A renewed sense of hope in the LORD is not a hope of “wishful thinking”, but a sure hope in the God whose love for the world was so deep that He was willing to send his only Son to provide redemption for a sinful world.

Indeed, may we pray with the psalmist that the steadfast love of the LORD will be upon us—not just at Christmas time, but all year long.

Martha Minardi Assistant Professor, Office of Adult Learning Ministry Program Advisor

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F R I DAY, DECEMBER 20  Psalms 8, 24, 29, 84  Genesis 3.8-15  Revelation. 12.1-10  John 3.16-21 “Where are you?” The question hung thick in the cool air of the day.

Adam and Eve held their breaths, Eve looking nervously at Adam.

Behind their hideout of trees, Adam spoke: “I was afraid” (Gen 3.9-10).

We, too, are afraid. We have “fallen short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3.23) and we have felt the space grow between what we are and what we ought to be. In this space, we take a page out of our spiritual ancestors’ playbook and we find our own trees to hide behind, sure that we are safer here, out of sight.

God sees us, though. God will not allow us to remain in the dark. How else do we know this but most surely in the incarnation?

In God’s coming to earth in the person of Jesus Christ, we see that, though we may be ashamed to be seen by Him, He is not ashamed to be seen with us. In Christ, God robed himself in human flesh, blood and bones, embodying all the vulnerability that comes with being human. The moment this baby named Jesus was born, our humanity began to be healed. God was restoring what had been fractured. He was making us whole again.

On our own, we are not what we ought to be. But in Christ, whose full divinity and humanity restores in us the image of God, we are made righteous by faith (Rom. 4.5), despite our own personal scorekeeping efforts that might say otherwise. Through Christ’s birth, life, death, and resurrection, we are made beautiful in God’s sight. No longer must we carry around our burdened consciences like heavy bags of luggage.

The incarnation of Christ means this: we can reject our instinct to hide, cower, and make ourselves small before God. We are now invited to approach God’s throne of grace with confidence (Heb. 4.16) rather than attempt to conceal ourselves from God. The joy of Christmas is found in the coming of Christ that takes us from our carefully crafted corners of hiding, and instead invites us into the open landscape of his grace.

Cameron Presson Senior, Religious Studies

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SAT UR DAY, D ECEMBER 21  Psalms 66, 67, 116, 117  1 Samuel 2.1b-10  Titus 2.1-10  Luke 1.26-38 It is natural to think that if we have more of God in our lives, our lives will be better. Mary was told, “You have found favor with God” (Luke 1.30). That sounds positive! Then she was told, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you” (Luke 1.35). Again, this sounds better than not having the Holy Spirit come upon you, so it’s apparently more good news for Mary. And this is on top of the happy fact that she just got engaged to Joseph.

The promises to Mary about the new baby were stunning: “Jesus . . . will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High . . . and his kingdom will never end” (Luke 1.31-33). Every parent wants a child who fulfills his or her potential; Mary knows from the beginning that her son will be “great.”

So why was she so “greatly troubled” that she had to be told “Do not be afraid”? Fear is not a normal reaction to good news, but Mary had quickly figured out that good news from God is not like any other.

Her happy engagement would begin heading toward divorce once Joseph found out that she was going to have a baby, and her family and friends would be scandalized. (People in that pre-scientific era did not know all the biology that we know. But Joseph knew what it meant to be engaged to a virgin who becomes pregnant if he isn’t the father.)

It’s been said that God lets us keep our vocabulary, but he rewrites the dictionary. Mary was indeed “highly favored,” just as Jesus would in fact be “great.” But with God, those who are favored are those who are key to God’s work in the world, and those who are great are those who give the full measure of their love to others. Mary grasps all of this. And without checking with her parents or fiancé she says, “I am the Lord’s servant.”

Her life will be marked by mourning the murder of the babies of her friends, then becoming a refugee, and finally watching her son die in agony and disgrace. The Kingdom of God that her great Son would rule over would come under unrelenting attack for the rest of her life.

But Mary knew that God does not show up so he can become a part of our plan for our lives; God invites us to become a part of God’s unfolding work in the world. Whatever the cost.

Dr. Todd Lake Vice President for Spiritual Development

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

Alleluia! Lord Most High!”

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SUNDAY, D ECEM BER 22  Psalms 72, 111, 113  2 Samuel 7.1-17  Titus 2.11-3.8a  Luke 1.39-48a (48b-56) The Advent season, characterized by a nip in the air and gestures of renewed appreciation for our loved ones, naturally leads us into environments of warmth and comfort. As the day of Christmas draws nearer, so do we to one another; front doors swing open as friends and family pile in, homeless shelters and soup kitchens buzz with more neighbors and volunteers than ever. The offering of shelter seems to define the season.

As we continue to pass the pot of coffee around our living rooms or the homeless shelter, as we offer half of our favorite blanket to our beloved sitting next to us by the fire or the whole of it to our neighbor at the donation center, may we honor the humble example of giving and receiving shelter by the Lord Jesus.

Denied safe and suitable shelter consistently, Jesus’ delivery took place in the lowliest of places: a manger. An uncharacteristic birthplace of a King, let alone the King of Kings, we recognize the manger as a symbol of the humble character of the Lord Jesus; a humility reflective enough of the prophesied coming King who “delivers the needy who cry out, the afflicted who have no one to help” (Ps. 72.12), and who “stoops down to look at the heavens and earth” (Ps. 113.6), so much so that his divinity could not be denied.

My prayer for you in the next few days of Advent is to engage with a mindfulness of your own relationship with shelter and reflect upon the dwelling places of God who, until the manger, had denied temple after temple, “moving from place to place with a tent as my dwelling” (2 Samuel 7.47-48). Consider the wild generosity of the King of Kings historically denying the offering of shelter in order to continue moving with his people, and the seriousness with which God took this commitment by means of the incarnation. The Holy One, the one who “raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap,” could not do so without breathing in the dust himself and caking ashes under his own finger nails.

May this reality spur within us a song as praise-filled as dear Mary’s, “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant” (Luke 1.47-48), and allow this song to shape the energy of the shelters we commune in during advent.

Rest in the mystery.

Victoria Shields Senior, Religious Studies

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M O NDAY, D ECEM BER 23  Psalms 93, 96, 148, 150  Isaiah 61.1-11  Galatians 3.15-22  Matthew 1.1-17 He started working for the Times on December 27, 1943—the day after his sixteenth birthday. Nearly fifty years later, Joe and his wife Fay did what so many New York Jews aspire to do: retire to Miami.

With a cigar in his hand before the sun rose from that blanket of blue, he religiously read the day’s editions of both the New York Times and the Miami Herald word-for-word, every day. Fay sat by his side smoking cigarettes and wrestling crossword puzzles. They were my grandparents.

Papa Joe knew news; he reported the news, lived the news and came from a long line of news survivors. Shortly after World War I, his parents immigrated to the Bronx from Jerusalem, the perennial headline maker. Papa had ancestors in Pharaoh’s Egypt and relatives in Hitler’s Germany. He saw his Dodgers abandon Brooklyn for the Golden State—then watched his daughter do the same. She is my mother.

I was born there—in California—raised in the shade just a few miles from Highway 1. My parents handed-down their faith to me. But that inheritance didn’t come easy. Joe and Fay were not receptive to my mom’s conversion to Christianity in her early twenties, or her marriage to my father. And somehow, a generation later, I am a congenital Christian.

The story of Jesus begins with remembering. It’s strange how those monotonous verses in Matthew 1.1-17 can resurrect the euangelion, the Gospel, for me. Each name carries with it a life—branches of lives— sprawling across millennia of space and time and faith; rootedness; connectedness. Not only was John the Baptist preparing the way, but so too were the forty-two generations before the Word became flesh; each generation anticipating “liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners” (Isaiah 61.1).

We join our lineage in both anticipation and in remembrance. We look back in awe at how we got here—spiritually, cosmically,—literally— and we look forward to what is coming; to who is coming. This story is eternally expanding, within us and around us. Give thanks to the God who prepares the way; to the God who is with us.

May the good news never become old news.

Cory Bishop Program Assistant, College of Theology and Christian Ministry

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T UESDAY, D ECEM BER 24  Psalms 45, 46  Isaiah 59.15b-21  Matthew 1.18-25  Galatians 3.23-4.7 Advent is this wonderful time of celebrating patience, a season of expectation and excitement.

Some have said time is the most valuable commodity we have. I believe this to be true. I also believe that sometimes we squander it, and sometimes we try to hang onto it, tightly. Sometimes we wait, and it seems as if our moments of anticipation, excitement or struggle will last forever, or at least the moments will outlast us.

A friend of mine died this past May. His journey allowed him to experience forty-four wonderful spring seasons, a devoted family, and a love for life. He impacted many through his wit, cleverness, and kindness. He was smart, and he always asked thought-provoking questions in the Sunday school class I taught. His kids are the same age as mine and grew up together. Our daughters are now in high school, and our sons just went through confirmation classes.

We shared a unique connection in that we first met in the church nursery when our sons were about a month old, and we both were diagnosed with cancer around the same time last year. He isn’t here and I am. I cannot make sense of this.

The passages today relay God’s promises to us, the promises that find fulfillment through the Incarnation. In Isaiah, we are promised justice and a Redeemer who comes clothed like a warrior, seeking vengeance and full of fury. In Matthew, we are promised Emmanuel, God with us—always and forever—and in Galatians, we are promised radical freedom and equality.

And so we wait, as we allow time and faith to slowly convert our impatience into the virtue of hope. We wait as our faith falters, and we accept the transformative experiences that change us and shape us.

At times we see the promises being fulfilled, and at other moments, we rage at death and search for equality that seems so strikingly absent.

We take comfort in the belief that God is with us, because of the infant born so long ago and far away from the joy and the suffering of our current lives, and we acknowledge with deep gratitude that we are given the gift of both living and dying with an opportunity to feel peace.

Peace comes to a kind of fulfillment in the birth of Jesus and our joy in celebrating God’s promise of redemption. And perhaps we are expressions of the creative power of the Divine, and perhaps our God suffers not only for us, but also with us, and we are transformed by our experiences because the Holy presence is so very near to us each and every moment of existence.

Sally Holt Professor of Religion

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W E D NESDAY, D ECEMBER 2 5  Psalms 2, 85, 110.1-5, 132  Micah 4.1-5, 5.2-4  John 3.31-36  1 John 4.7-16 Each year social media becomes woven more deeply into our lives.

Our phones and watches buzz. Notifications pop up on our screens.

Posed pictures imitate reality. Selfies present a cultured version of ourselves to the world. Instagram filters alter the mood of a moment and reflect our whimsy and wishful experience. Facebook stories share and reshare carefully curated echo chambers of affirmation.

It all feels so personal and so immediate. It is social. It is now. It is “my-best-version-of-this-moment-of-my-life.”

We shape and respond to the world as we want to experience it. This morning may be the prime example of social media self-expression.

We want everyone to see the Christmas we want to share!

The thing is social media offers a false immediacy. It only feels close.

It only appears to be intimate. It only shows you what the person sending the image—one for whom we now have a new designation, “influencer”—wants you to see.

We are learning how much people want to influence others and how much they enjoy being influenced. The prophet Micah saw this long ago when he wrote that “people live however they wish, picking and choosing their gods” (Micah 4.5, MSG).

This day holds particular significance because God said, “I will come among you!” This day does not offer an Instagram image filtered version of God. It does not tell a story curated in a Facebook feed.

It is not about the most amazing “selfie” in creation.

This day is a day when God comes among us. As the Scripture says, “God’s love was revealed among us this way: God sent his only Son into the world so we might live through him” (1 John 4.9, NRSV).

This day means we do not need to live through anyone else’s “best version of themselves.” We have the opportunity for the Son of God to come to us and for us to discover God’s best version of ourselves. This day, God comes to us in Jesus.

This is the greatest gift of Christmas! Come, Lord Jesus! Come quickly!

Darrell Gwaltney Dean, College of Theology and Christian Ministry

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COLLEGE O F TH EOLOGY & CHR IST IAN M IN ISTRY 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 emphases 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. 6 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 7,700 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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COLLEGE O F THEOLOGY & CHR IST IAN MIN ISTRY Faculty and Staff Dr. Darrell Gwaltney, Dean Ms. Tola Akhom-Pokrywka, Assistant to the Dean & Budget Manager Mr. Cory Bishop, Program Assistant Dr. Marty Bell, Church History Dr. Layla Bonner, Mental Health Counseling Dr. Robert Byrd, Greek & New Testament (Emeritus) Dr. Ann Coble, Lecturer Dr. Manuel Cruz, Theology Dr. Ben Curtis, Pastoral Care & Spiritual Formation (Emeritus) 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, Visiting Professor 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, Biblical Studies 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. In compliance with federal law, including provisions of Title IX of the Education Amendments of 1972, Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, Sections 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, Belmont University does not discriminate on the basis of race, sex, color, national or ethnic origin, age, disability, military service, or sexual orientation in its administration of education policies programs or activities; its admissions policies; or employment.

Consistent with applicable civil rights law, the University seeks employees of Christian faith who are committed to the mission of the University. The University has appointed the director of the Office of Human Resources to serve as coordinator of compliance with Title VII and IX issues and questions for staff and faculty. The Director of Title IX Compliance and Prevention Programs serves as coordinator of compliance for Title IX issues and questions for students.

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