Advent 2024

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2024 MEDITATIONS AND PRAYERS

Seminary

Dear Friends of Seminary of the Southwest,

Welcome to Seminary of the Southwest’s 2024 Advent Meditation and Prayers. Advent offers a time for sustained, thoughtful reflection amid the eager anticipation of the birth of Jesus.

This year, I begin as the Ninth Dean and President of Seminary of the Southwest. It is my sincere honor to serve in this role and to continue in the long-tradition of leaders who have nourished our beloved seminary to this place of vitality and importance. Projects like this booklet remind me of our devotion to one another and of the shared values that connect us.

I am enormously thankful for the dedicated alumni, students, faculty, staff, trustees, and friends of the seminary who have written these meditations and prayers. Each of them has shared their own engagement with this season, so that we might prepare together for the feast of Christmas. This Advent season, please pray for our world and for one another, and pray that we stay rooted in the reconciling ministry of Christ as we continue our mission to form people for vocations of ministry, service, and healing.

Please listen to our meditations and prayers online and share them with friends and family. Thanks be to God for this way to be a community in Christ.

Wishing you and yours a blessed Advent and a joyous Christmas.

Faithfully,

MEDITATION CONTRIBUTORS

WEEK ONE

The Rev. Dr. Benjamin King

The Rev. Anthony Guillen

April Kerwin

Gabbie Munn

Toya Foster

TJ Poon

The Rev. Lecia Brannon

WEEK TWO

The Rt. Rev. David Read

The Rev. Dr. Javier Alanís

The Rev. Gregory Warren

Kari Kulak

The Rev. Dr. Nathan Jennings

Catharine Corder

Julia Ayala Harris

WEEK THREE

The Rt. Rev. Scott Mayer

The Rev. Erin Jean Warde

The Rev. Madeline Hawley

Day Smith Prichartt

Paige Trivett

The Rev. Nancy Frausto

Dr. Marlon Johnson

WEEK FOUR

The Rt. Rev. Austin Rios

Dr. Anthony Baker

The Rt. Rev. Kathryn McCrossen Ryan

Dr. Scott Bader-Saye

SUNDAY • DECEMBER 1

Psalm 146-147 v 111, 112, 113 Isa. 1:1-9 2 Peter 3:1-10 Matt. 25:1-13

Who would have thought Advent was the season of resurrection? But that is what I take to be the message of Jesus’s parable of the wise virgins, dwelling in the darkness of our world today, praying and waiting. When I think of long, dark nights, I think of North-East England, where the winter nights start early and last long. In this region, the Venerable Bede recorded a wonderful story about the death of the Abbess Hilda of Whitby. When Hilda died in the year 690, “there was a devout nun resting in the sisters’ dormitory, who suddenly heard in the air the well-known note of the bell that used to wake and call them to prayer when any of the sisters had died. Opening her eyes, as she thought, she saw the roof open, and a great light pour in from above and flood the room. While she gazed into this light, she saw the soul of God’s servant Hilda borne up to heaven amid the light, accompanied and guided by angels. Rising at once in alarm, she ran to the prioress and with many tears and sighs told her that their Mother the Abbess Hilda had departed this life, and that she had seen her surrounded by angels in a great light. The nuns prayed and sang psalms for the soul of Hilda until daybreak, when some brothers arrived from the monastery where Hilda had died with news of her passing.” You can feel the European Middle Ages when you hear this story, can’t you? It’s also an image of the wise virgins that Jesus spoke about in the parable, who wait with their lamps through the night for the bridegroom to come. No virgin was wiser than Hilda, the powerful Mother Superior who had taught bishops at Church councils, who here meets the bridegroom in heaven. As the Bengali poet Rabindranath Tagore wrote, enlightenment “is not the blowing out of the candle. It is the extinguishing of the flame because day is come.” This isn’t just a story of nuns or of the past. It’s a story of the visions we need, like the nun in the story, of light in the darkness and angels at work. O God, give us those dreams and help us hold fast to the truth the night will end. Amen.

The Rev. Dr. Benjamin King Interim Academic Dean, Dean of Chapel, and Duncalf-Villavoso Professor of Church History

SEMINARY OF THE SOUTHWEST

MONDAY • DECEMBER 2

Psalm 1, 2, 3 v 4, 7

Isa. 1:10-20 1 Thess. 2:1-12 Luke 20:1-8

“Aprendan a hacer el bien, busquen el derecho, reprendan al opresor, defiendan al huérfano, amparen a la viuda.” Isaías 1: 17

En este tiempo de Adviento, recuerdo las muchas formas en que mis padres, Jesús y Simona, me enseñaron a “hacer el bien”.

Mi papá era un narrador de historias maravilloso. Cuando éramos más jóvenes, después de la cena, se sentaba en el suelo de la cocina y mis hermanos menores y yo nos reuníamos a su alrededor. Nos deleitaba con relatos de su infancia, pero también nos contaba historias bíblicas y moralejas. Las moralejas eran algunas de nuestras favoritas. A través de esas historias, aprendimos sobre el bien y el mal, la obediencia a la autoridad y la importancia de hacer lo correcto. Papá también nos enseñó sobre la oración. Cada día, al llegar a casa, se sentaba en su camión para decir sus oraciones vespertinas, sin importar cuán caluroso o frío estuviera afuera. Nunca nos lo impuso, pero fuimos testigos de su devoción.

Mi mamá quedó huérfana a los diez años y nunca olvidó lo que significaba ir de casa en casa mientras diferentes cuñadas la criaban. Nuestro hogar se convirtió en un refugio tanto para extraños como para familiares. Un día, Mamá encontró en el camino a una joven llorando; había sido maltratada físicamente por su madrastra y terminó viviendo con nosotros por un tiempo. Con los años, algunos primos que habían perdido a sus padres también vinieron a vivir con nosotros. Cuidar de los menos afortunados, denunciar las injusticias y defender a otros no era algo que nos enseñaran con palabras; lo aprendimos siguiendo el ejemplo de Mamá. Oh, Dios, que las familias aprendan a hacer el bien mientras esperan la venida del mayor bienhechor, Jesús, tu Hijo. Amén.

Rev. Canon

Psalm 5, 6 v 10, 11 Isa. 1:21-31 1 Thess. 2:1-12 Luke 20:9-18 TUESDAY • DECEMBER 3

The workday is busy. While I try to focus, my mind wanders. I’m anticipating bad news, an expected summoning to the hospital bedside of my 24-yearold niece, Brooke, whose organs are failing after being weakened from three rounds of chemotherapy. When admitted to the hospital, Brooke asked for treatment to continue ‘by all means possible’. The nurses called her ‘feisty’ and predicted she would heal and go on to live her life. That was not to be.

My phone rings and I jump. There are just a couple of words said to the effect of ‘come now’ and ‘on my way’. As I prepare myself that I will hold Brooke’s hand for the last time, my prayers morph from healing to transitioning from this world to the next.

Psalm 6 brings me back to this heartbreaking time when Brooke’s life was ending. While I do not know exactly why the author was full of fear and despair, he tells us that God hears him and will respond to his prayers.

God did respond to my prayers for Brooke. I could feel God’s presence when Brooke’s body ceased to function, and she left us. I am grateful to have held onto Brooke as she made her journey. Today I thank God for Brooke’s life and the lives of other loved ones whose time to go to God came earlier than we expected. Thank you, Lord, for responding to my prayers.

Merciful God, we humbly ask for you to respond to prayers for those in fear and despair, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

and

WEDNESDAY • DECEMBER 4

Psalm 119:1-24 v 12, 13, 14

Isa. 2:1-11 1 Thess. 2:13-20 Luke 20:19-26

“Whose image is this?”

In answering the questions of the spies without a simple “yes” or “no,” Jesus prompts us to answer a different question—not just about the coins in our hands, but about the very hands that hold them.

“Whose image is this?”

On the face of that denarius and all the others exchanged and traded was the emperor’s.

But on the face of Jesus, the spies, the onlooking disciples, you, and me… is the image of God. Yes, the powers of this world are stamped on the currency we use to buy bread to feed the hungry and the taxes on land we worship upon, and yes, what is stamped as the emperor’s is the emperor’s.

What’s greater than the emperor’s image is the image of God in all of us. It unites, not separates, our common life to God’s desire for us. All work in this world—bank tellers, car mechanics, cashiers, school teachers, artists—belongs to God. By seeing all people—as ourselves, strangers, the bank teller, the cashier—as those made in the image of God, we are called to see God at work in our material lives. When we resist separating God from our embodied life, we have the opportunity to become part of God’s redeeming work. Coins have the reflection of the emperor, but our lives are called to reflect God.

“Whose image is this?” In each of us, it is God’s.

Gracious God, guide us to use our embodied life to share your love for us with all people, knowing all belongs to you. Amen.

Psalm 18:1-20 v 18:21-50 Isa. 2:12-22 1 Thess. 3:1-13 Luke 20:27-40 THURSDAY •

As we embrace this Advent season, let’s turn our hearts toward the wisdom found in the Psalms 18: 1-20, Psalms 18: 21-50 and 1 Thessalonians 3-1-3.

Psalm 18 reassures us that God is our unwavering rock and refuge, always ready to deliver us in our toughest moments.

When life feels overwhelming and the challenges seem insurmountable, it’s comforting to know that our cries are heard and that we’re never truly alone in our struggles. God’s strength envelops us, providing solace and assurance that He walks alongside us.

In 1 Thessalonians 3:1-3, Paul emphasizes the beauty and necessity of community in our faith journey. He expresses genuine concern for the Thessalonians, reminding us that we are called to support one another.

This Advent, let’s commit to uplifting each other, standing firm together in love and encouragement. As we prepare for the coming of Christ, we have an opportunity to deepen our connections, be present for one another, and embody God’s hope and strength in our relationships. Let’s share our burdens and joys, nurturing a spirit of love that reflects the heart of God during this season of anticipation and grace.

Loving God, thank you for being our safe haven. Help us to uplift one another in faith this beautiful Advent season. Amen.

Licensed Professional Counselor TOYA FOSTER RELATIONSHIP COUNSELING

Psalm 16, 17 v 22

Isa. 3:8-15 1 Thess. 4:1-12 Luke 20:41--21:4

The Psalmist writes, “You are my Lord; apart from you I have no good thing.” As a member in the community of creation, it’s unlikely that the Psalmist’s life did not include a number of good things. Should we then take this as hyperbole, or is it possible something else is being expressed? Perhaps the Psalmist understands something important about possession, what we’re tempted to see as goodness, and the fleeting nature of our material lives.

This is mirrored in the widow of today’s Gospel reading. She puts in her copper coins, “all she had to live on,” and thus becomes an example of faith. Her example is set in contrast to those of the teachers of the law who seem to have become rather fond of the “good” things in life - flowing robes, important seats, and places of honor. Jesus warns against this, noting that these men “devour widows’ houses” despite their show of religion. They may have what seems like goodness, but it is apparently “apart” from God.

Advent is a season of unveiling when we can be invited to consider the attachments in our lives: where are we fond of things that actually do violence to our own souls or the souls of others? How can we cultivate the posture of the Psalmist and the widow, grasping the spiritual truth that God alone is our portion and our cup?

God of truth and justice, awaken us to places where we seek goodness apart from you. May we seek you as our portion. Amen.

Master of Arts in Spiritual Formation, Class of 2025 SEMINARY OF THE SOUTHWEST

Psalm 20, 21:1-7(8-14) v 110:1-5(6-7), 116, 117 Isa. 4:2-6 1 Thess. 4:13-18 Luke 21:5-19

A cherished Advent tradition of my childhood was the Advent calendar. Opening each little window, counting down each day joyfully built the anticipation of waiting for Christmas. I still enjoy them each year in a different way. In Luke’s gospel, we read of Jesus giving the disciples a very different way of counting down a time to come. His countdown is the reality of the coming of a brutal empire. One that will threaten their lives for the sake of Jesus.

Jesus’s description of what’s coming for the disciples in their time painfully mirrors the reality of our time as his disciples today. Our days are marked by war among nations, the suffering of so many people who live in fear of death, with hunger and disease, the destruction of natural disasters and even the division of families by partisan politics. We wonder when it will end. Jesus says, not yet.

Instead of just waiting, Jesus offers this as an opportunity for us as disciples to testify using his words and wisdom. Using his indisputable truth and the power of his love which rises above suffering, hate and violence with healing and peace. With Jesus we are not victims or powerless to this countdown. Each day we can open a window with hope trusting in the endurance of God’s grace, love and eternal life through Jesus Christ.

O God, thank you for your love on earth in Jesus. Help us each day to build our joyful anticipation of his coming. Amen.

Psalm 148, 149, 150 v 114, 115 Isa. 5:1-7 2 Peter 3:11-18 Luke 7:28-35

I remember the day we took our son to the DMV to obtain a driver’s license. The process involved a lot of hurry up and wait. We drew a number and waited. We waited to turn in paperwork. Our son waited for the opportunity to endure the driving test. Jacqui and I anxiously waited and said prayers. The whole process was so much hurry up and wait, anxious anticipation, and some real impatience until our son successfully and joyfully received his reward.

The Christian community who received the epistles of Peter may have had similar feelings. Maybe the community was tired of anxiously awaiting Jesus’ return. Written toward the end of the 1st century as false teachers undermined the faith, perhaps people were hoping that God’s will shall be done on earth as it is in heaven – and soon!

The author writes that our waiting on the Lord is not like time lost at the DMV office. Our waiting has a greater purpose. The wait is a sign of God’s grace. The wait gives us time to come to repentance. The wait allows more people to be embraced. We are to regard the patience of the Lord as our salvation.

In Advent, let us be disciples who hurry up and wait. Let us lead holy and godly lives. Not without hope, but in the assurance of God’s grace revealed in the face of Jesus.

Give us hearts which long to greet Jesus when he comes. While we hurry up and wait, make us impatient with injustice. Amen.

The Rt. Rev. Dr. David G. Read

Psalm 25 v 9, 15

Isa. 5:8-12, 18-23 1 Thess. 5:1-11 Luke 21:20-28

“Porque vosotros sabéis muy bien que el día del Señor vendrá como ladrón en la noche.” 1 Tesalonicenses 5:2

Esta carta de San Pablo a los Tesalonicenses es una carta pastoral de preocupación y exhortación a la vigilancia. En el siglo 1, no era raro que los fieles creyeran que Jesús podría regresar en cualquier momento. Había prometido que regresaría y que su segundo advenimiento sería un día de ira y juicio. Pablo les recuerda que su apariencia será como la de un ladrón en la noche. Exhorta a la comunidad a estar preparada para recibirlo.

Antes de jubilarme, tenía una casa vacía esperándome en el sur de Texas. Los ladrones irrumpieron varias veces y se llevaron lo que consideraban valioso. Recuerdo la angustia que sentí cuando mis hermanos me llamaban para decirme que unos ladrones habían entrado a la casa y la habían dejado en ruinas. San Pablo usa este tipo de imágenes para exhortar a la iglesia a estar alerta y preparada para recibirlo.

En este tiempo de Adviento, San Pablo nos recuerda que también nosotros debemos permanecer despiertos y estar siempre sobrios. Como seguidores de Cristo, debemos estar en guardia contra las tinieblas de nuestros tiempos. Debemos revestirnos de la coraza de la fe y del amor, y poner por yelmo la esperanza de la salvación (v. 8).

Diosito, mientras esperamos tu aparición, ayúdanos a estar vigilantes y listos, despiertos y sobrios como tu pueblo amado. Amen.

Former Executive Director & Former Associate Professor of Theology LUTHERAN SEMINARY PROGRAM IN THE SOUTHWEST

Psalm 26, 28 v 36, 39

Isa. 5:13-17, 24-25 1 Thess. 5:12-28 Luke 21:29-38

For pretty much all of my life, I’ve enjoyed a kind of delicious melancholy associated with the end of a year. Hopefulness is mixed with sorrow and regret at opportunities left untaken, words left unsaid.

Advent is a time of hope and waiting mixed with sorrow and regret. Today’s scriptures lean heavily on the sorrow and regret parts, but–taken as a whole–point to a hopeful way forward.

The Prophet Isaiah kicks off a series of indictments; his sharp tongue is pointed to the elites, the 1%; their downfall brings everyone down. Burning like grass in the flames; rootless and without seed.

Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians points to redemption, though. He offers a powerful ethic–a way to live–in challenging times. When deliverance can feel so far away. We encourage, we admonish, we are at peace. Evil is not repaid. Instead we rejoice, we give thanks, and pray without ceasing. We hold fast to what is good.

And, finally, Luke’s gospel. Jesus also advises us on how to live in these in-between times. Be on guard, don’t be weighed down, especially by life’s worries. Finally, be alert; ready. The kingdom of God is breaking all around us. Today we’re reminded to have eyes to see it, arms to embrace it, and feet to march forward into it.

May the God of peace sanctify us; may our souls and bodies be kept sound and blameless at the coming of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Rev.

Psalm 38 v 119:25-48

Isa. 6:1-13 2 Thess. 1:1-12 John 7:53--8:11

As I think about texts that belong in an Advent devotional, Psalm 38 is not one of them. Its pain and anguish seem wrongly situated for the expectant season of Advent. But one of the psalms greatest gifts is that they encompass the spectrum of human emotion: there is no part of our experience that is unseen or rejected by God. Nothing is unwelcome. In the psalms we are invited to express our feelings of disorientation, pain, anguish, despair. Say it, they beckon. Feel it You aren’t the first one! they remind us. We know they tell us.

One of the difficulties of life is that it keeps moving, no matter what season we find ourselves in. It is easier to move forward when we feel near to God, encompassed in love. It is harder when we are grieving, lonely, unsure. Perhaps this Advent is one of disorientation for you. I hope you can hear that you are not off-track, you are not alone, you are not irreparably broken. You are, in fact, joining the pilgrimage of the faithful who put one foot in front of the other despite not seeing the way forward.

I invite you to a practice: write your own psalm. Exercising radical honesty, write down your orientation to God. See what surfaces. Reading over it, let us give thanks that the God we anticipate this Advent season is one who welcomes all of us.

I invite you into a meditative breath prayer.

With each inhale: Nothing can separate

On each exhale: Me from Your love.

Kari Kulak Master of Arts in Clinical Mental Health Counseling, Class of 2026

SEMINARY OF THE SOUTHWEST

Psalm 37:1-18 v 37:19-42

Isa. 7:1-9 2 Thess. 2:1-12

Luke 22:1-13

Advent comes round again, and we turn our focus to the Parousia, the coming of the Messiah, the return of our Lord.

We hear our God saying take heed, be quiet, do not fear, and do not let your heart be faint. We find ourselves surrounded by injustices of the world, and the unrighteousness of our inner lives.

We hear a sharp word from the Lord: all who have not believed the truth but took pleasure in unrighteousness will be condemned. Perhaps we feel guilt, or shame, or indignation when we hear God’s claim on us.

When we cast away the lies that shore up self-interest, the hope of things to come rushes in to fill the space opened in our hearts.

God speaks to us: do not fret yourself because of the evildoer – whether those in the world around us, or our false self – for they shall soon wither like the grass.

The Psalmist admonishes: take delight in the Lord and he shall give you your heart’s desire.

We desire the life of the age to come; fellowship with God and one another.

Advent comes round again; God readies us to clear our hearts for the One who is to come.

O God who condemns those who do not believe the truth but take pleasure in unrighteousness, grant us our heart’s desire, that we may not wither like the grass, but may, free from fear, take delight in the Lord, take heed, be quiet, and faint not in our hearts; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Rev. Dr. Nathan Jennings

SEMINARY OF THE SOUTHWEST

Psalm 31 v 35

Isa. 7:10-25 2 Thess. 2:13--3:5

Luke 22:14-30

How do you respond when you or someone you love is betrayed? Luke introduces the Last Supper with a deeply personal story of betrayal. Jesus’s conflicts with authority have been building, so his betrayal by these powerful forces is expected. But his betrayal by Judas is personal. This inner circle of close friends who have traveled together, taken risks, and seen each other’s lives transformed, finds itself fractured.

The disciples discover their Rabbi has been betrayed, but also their inner circle is suddenly unfamiliar. Their feelings of anxiety and suspicion quickly turn to selfpreservation. First, they ask who the betrayer could be, but almost immediately begin asking “which one of them was to be regarded as the greatest.” How often in the face of uncertainty do we seek reassurance that we will not be affected? In our fear and anxiety, our gaze can be pulled ever inward, looking for a key to our own safety.

But amidst their anxiety, Jesus redirects his disciples’ focus urging them to become “like one who serves.” Using familiar dinner party imagery, he describes their role as waiters–attentive to each other’s needs. Jesus redirects his disciples to acts of service, to each other and others, knowing this will calm their anxiety and ultimately rebuild their community.

God of restoration, amid our anxiety, redirect our focus and make us instruments of your peace in our communities. Amen.

Psalm 30, 32 v 42, 43

Isa. 8:1-15 2 Thess. 3:6-18 Luke 22:31-38

In the heart of winter, as the deep night seems endless, Advent reminds us of the approaching dawn. Like the psalmist in Psalm 30, we may find ourselves in moments of despair, illness, or profound challenge. Yet, this ancient song of thanksgiving offers a powerful message of hope and restoration. The psalmist recounts a journey from anguish to joy, attributing this transformation to God’s healing power. In our lives, we too, experience seasons of struggle and liberation. Advent invites us to reflect on these cycles, acknowledge our frailty, and trust in God, who lifts us from the shadows. As we await Christ’s coming, we’re reminded that suffering is temporary. Joy arrives with the morning light, as the psalm assures. This promise resonates with Advent, as we anticipate a new day breaking in a manger. The psalmist’s experience wasn’t solitary; he calls the community to join in praise. Our Advent journey is also communal. We share sorrows and joys, supporting one another as we await Christ’s restoration. In this season of preparation, let’s open our hearts to God’s restorative work. Let’s attune ourselves to God’s healing in our lives, communities, and world. May we, like the psalmist, move from lament to joyful song at daybreak.

God of restoration, as we journey through Advent, transform our moments of deep night into the promise of a new morning, that we may sing with joy at the dawning of your coming. Amen.

SUNDAY • DECEMBER 15

Psalm 63:1-8(9-11), 98 v 103

Isa. 13:6-13

Heb. 12:18-29 John 3:22-30

“For this reason my joy has been fulfilled.” That’s what John the Baptist says to his concerned followers who are worried that his stature is decreasing.

John reminds his followers that he is the “friend,” and not the “bridegroom.” Referencing the Messiah, he says, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” And rejoicing, he makes that claim without a hint of reluctance or regret.

Rejoicing at the success of others is a challenge for disciples throughout the Gospels. In today’s story, John’s followers are hitched to John’s wagon, and word is spreading that Jesus is baptizing more people than John. So, even then, disciples were chasing numbers and all that numbers measure – like worth in the eyes of the world.

In and through Jesus we learn what we are worth – that we are worth “dying for.” God’s love is immeasurable, and “broader than the measure of the mind.”

We can spend our lives proving our worth, and miss the joy – the rejoicing. I’m mindful of the words of Mary Oliver in her poem, “When Death Comes.”

“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.” “When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder If I have made of my life something particular, and real. I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument.”

“I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”

“Gracious God, awaken our hearts, minds, and souls to the gift of joy and wonder in all your works.” Amen.

The Rt. Rev. Scott Mayer

Master of Divinity, Class of 1992

Bishop

THE EPISCOPAL DIOCESE OF NORTHWEST TEXAS

Psalm 41, 52 v 44

Isa. 8:16--9:1 2 Peter 1:1-11 Luke 22:39-53

Today we receive what I believe to be one of the most comforting prayers in Scripture, when Jesus prays: “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.” Because I think we’ve all had times when we’ve prayed to have the cup of suffering removed from us, and of course we have. Who would not want to be spared from suffering, deep grief, or impending death?

But Jesus doesn’t just pray for the cup to be removed from him; Jesus also prays that God’s will would be done. In this prayer, we see the tension between the reality of life, our prayers, and what it means to follow God.

I am freed from the self-judgment I feel when I pray for suffering to be removed from my life, because if Jesus can pray for it, surely I can. And yet, I am also reminded that above and beyond my prayers sits the will of God.

So then, when I pray for deliverance, I know I am joined to the very God who, from the Mount of Olives, prayed the same prayer. And when I feel delivered into the very depths of death and grief I prayed to escape, I know that then, too, I am joined to the very God who knelt to pray in anguish before his death.

The comfort of this prayer is that I don’t have to hide my request for deliverance, and come what may, I remain joined in prayer to the God who will–on that last and final day–answer every one of my prayers, even the ones I wasn’t wise enough to say.

Holy God, be with us in our cries for deliverance and tend to us when we kneel before you in anguish. Give us courage to ask for what we need and trust that your will offers us better things than we can ask for or imagine. Amen.

Spiritual Director, Recovery Coach, and Author

TUESDAY • DECEMBER 17

Psalm 45 v 47, 48

Isa. 9:1-7 2 Peter 1:12-21 Luke 22:54-69

I can’t read our passage today from Isaiah without hearing Handel’s Messiah ringing in my ears: Wonderful! Counselor! Handel sets verse 6 to music that thrills and lifts our spirits to a place of hope. The arrival of this child was precious news for the war-weary people Isaiah wrote for, so precious that his poetry has survived many millennia. Poetry and music sustain us when little else can, resonating within us chords of hope otherwise silent and still. Isaiah didn’t live long enough to see the restoration of Israel after its fall to the Assyrians, and neither did his descendants sent into exile in Babylon. And yet, his poetry of hope sustained the people’s expectation that God’s promised liberation would come. Early Christians interpreted this poem in light of Jesus’ birth and incarnation. Many thousands of years later the poem continues to sustain our hope as we await Christ’s second advent, the liberation of our own world from violence and fear. Isaiah’s words voice our hope that this wonderful counselor, mighty God, everlasting father, and Prince of Peace will return again to uphold justice and righteousness forevermore. The way things are is not the way they shall always be. Hallelujah! Until our Prince of Peace returns, we wait and we sing to sustain our hope.

Prince of Peace, set your hope in our hearts to sustain us in times of challenge and discord. Wonderful Counselor, be near. Amen.

The Rev. Madeline

WEDNESDAY • DECEMBER 18

Psalm 119:49-72 v 49, [53]

Isa. 9:8-17

2 Peter 2:1-10a Mark 1:1-8

Today’s readings from Isaiah and 2 Peter speak of God’s harsh judgment of false prophets. Viewed alongside John the Baptist’ prophecy of Jesus’ impending arrival, we vow to be true prophets always. But in this age of political unrest, war, economic injustice and climate change, what is the true prophecy the church must proclaim?

Of course, the Good News that all of us, lay and ordained, are called to proclaim is that we follow Jesus and Jesus is Lord. I believe we are clear that Jesus is on the side of the oppressed. Are we equally clear that Jesus’ true prophecy is disruption of the systems of oppression, of the power of the leaders who maintain that oppression?

We embody the Gospel when we participate in the good work happening in each of our communities, the work of serving the poor and oppressed. But a church that serves, without working to disrupt the systems that destroy the climate and maintain poverty, will be seen by the world as complicit in those systems. This Advent, I pray we will be clear in our witness to the world that the Good News we proclaim is rooted in systemic change.

God of truth, give us eyes to see the systems that oppress your people and creation, and courage to challenge and change them. Amen.

Day Smith Pritchartt, DD

Postulant for Vocational Diaconate

Honorary Doctorate Recipient from Southwest in 2024

EPISCOPAL DIOCESE OF NORTH CAROLINA

THURSDAY

Psalm 50 v [59, 60] or 33

Isa. 9:18--10:4 2 Peter 2:10b-16 Matt. 3:1-12

It is tempting to hold tightly to the image of Christ as a precious infant, wrapped in swaddling cloth, as we await his entrance into our world. But… …what if we were to instead anticipate the arrival of the Incarnate Word as a bright, scorching burst of flame? How might that image affect our level of eagerness for Christ in this Advent season? For fire itself is powerful and dangerous, while we are so vulnerable to its touch. Would we still yearn to draw near?

Several of our readings today rely on fire as a metaphorical image. The prophet Isaiah uses fire’s indiscriminate nature to describe the people’s wickedness he saw spreading through Israel. Psalm 50, however, offers us a depiction of fire as a signal of the forthcoming of God’s righteous judgment. The bright flame will be a clear sign of the transformation that is occurring. In Matthew, John the Baptist’s declaration of Christ’s impending arrival includes the assurance that he will baptize with the aid of the Holy Spirit and fire. In the process, he will burn away the “chaff,” the material taking up space in our lives that holds no real value, leaving what is only invaluable.

I say…let us lean into our yearning for Christ, rejoicing in the fire that radiates from him.

O Christ, the flame of righteousness; touch us, cleanse from us that which gets in our way, and illuminate for us your truth. Amen.

2026

Postulant for Holy Orders

EPISCOPAL DIOCESE OF VIRGINIA

and

Psalm 40, 54 v 51

Isa. 10:5-19 2 Peter 2:17-22 Matt. 11:2-15

Los preparativos navideños se sienten en el viento. El olor de los tamales en la tamalera nos anuncia que ya está cerca la llegada de la navidad. Este tiempo de preparación usualmente es un tiempo de ansiedad lleno de actividades. Me pregunto, ¿qué sucedería si en vez de las preocupaciones y mandados nos tomáramos tiempo de preparación espiritual? Tiempo de oración diseñado para prepararnos para la llegado de ese bebe que trasformo la historia humana trayendo con el una nueva manera de vivir. Emmanuel, “Dios con nosotros”, ese bebe necesita que preparemos nuestros corazones y vidas para poder recibirlo y ser transformados por él.

En la lectura designada hoy del evangelio de Mateo podemos ver como Juan el Bautista vivió su vida reconociendo que su trabajo sería el “preparar el camino” y el asegurarse que cuando él no estuviera presente habría mensajeros que seguirían este trabajo.

Para nosotros la preparación espiritual es el proclamar con nuestras acciones y forma de vida la buenas nuevas de la llegada del Rey de Reyes.

Les invito en este tiempo de preparación que se tomen unos minutos todos los días para entrar en oración y reflexión en cuales maneras usted y su familia se estan preparando para recibir al niño Jesús.

Dios de amor bendice nuestro camino y esfuerzos, ya que preparamos nuestras vidas para recibir a tu hijo amado. Amen.

• DECEMBER 21

Psalm 55 v 138, 139:1-17(18-23)

Isa. 10:20-27 Jude 17-25 Luke 3:1-9

Psalm 139 is one of my favorite texts. I love this image of being seen and known by God. The author affirms themself as wonderful in God’s sight and trusts in God’s protection. In this season, protection and expectation brings me to images of my parents’ home, where my mother carried me in her womb while my father prayed over all of me, parts seen and unseen. This loving image of belonging soothes my spirit in times of turmoil.

Despite those images which calm me, I acknowledge that many still yearn for a sense of safety and protection. We worry when sending loved ones into the world; a world that has dismissed our humanity for productivity. Some of us hope to restore a community ruptured from its lack of access to resources and rituals of healing. A through line of unease, admonishment, waiting, and worry flow through these texts like a rushing wave crashing into my soul.

And still I, and you, and all of us are made marvelous and are seen in that fullness wherever we go.

In this season of expectation, I am reminded of that same tension of expectation and uncertainty from the Holy family. And I await my chance to celebrate that holy, marvelous Mystery being fearfully and wonderfully made in His mother’s womb, just like you and I.

Dear God, in a world of division and toil, help us to find what You see as marvelous among us. Through Christ our Lord, Amen.

Psalm 24, 29 v 8, 84

Isa. 42:1-12 Eph. 6:10-20 John 3:16-21

After living outside the US for 12 years, I am amazed at the meta narratives of conflict and competition in which so many Americans marinate. Though humans have been warring over tribal differences for millenia, the disconnect between adherents of rival political parties, between urban and rural residents, and between formally and informally educated people in the United States feels uniquely pronounced right now.

Such culture wars, and the violence that arises from them, keep us from realizing the larger realm of God that Jesus revealed to us.

And it can be tempting to take up arms, figuratively or literally, in these battles, because the stakes seem so high.

This section of Ephesians, with its militaristic imagery, can easily be twisted to justify actual war. And yet when joined with the witness of Jesus, the vulnerable incarnate child who so fully lives love’s way that death is destroyed and eternity’s life becomes open to all, this passage is a reminder that the primary battleground of this struggle is within the human heart.

Weapons of war will not aid us there.

Only perfect love allows us to see other humans—as difficult and broken as we may experience them to be—not as enemies, but as companion children of God.

Loving God, help us follow the way of Christ into the fullness of your realm and guide us as we struggle for love’s sake. Amen.

Psalm 61, 62 v 112, 115

Isa. 11:1-9 Rev. 20:1-10 John 5:30-47

The shoot growing from the stump is among the most familiar of the many images of the Advent texts. Familiarity can keep images from speaking to us. What does this image have to say?

Isaiah’s prophecy comes in the days of exile, when the inhabitants of the kingdom feel as though they have been clear-cut like yesterday’s forest. The prophet here tells them what they already know, if they’ve been chanting their Psalms in the Temple or sanctuaries. Devastating loss is never the last act of the divine drama. The felled tree will grow again, the dormant roots will surprise us one spring morning. The shoot that grows may here refer to the entire people of Israel. Even the lost tribes will return, live justly, and peace will reign.

Christians read this as a prophecy of Christ. But prophecies are more patterns than predictions. Isaiah is not really peering 700 years into the future and seeing the birth of David’s ancestor. Rather, he is naming the pattern of which Jesus is the ultimate expression.

Devastations like exile and oppressive occupation are never the last act with God. Just as life finds ways of reemerging, justice will return for the poor and meek, and peace will return to the harassed and hunted. Advent is the season of longing for the prince of that final peace.

O God, send us your anointed one, that we may know the peace that comes after the end of all hurt and fear. Amen.

TUESDAY

Psalm 45, 46

Isa. 35:1-10

Rev. 22:12-17, 21 Luke 1:67-80

“Strengthen the weak hands; make firm feeble knees.

Say to those who have an anxious heart, Be strong; fear not!

..your God will come and save you.” Isa 35:3-4

I grew up in the New Mexican desert. God colored that winter landscape shades of brown and gray. Some think the drab palette is permanent. Then, a week after a spring rain, the hills between Albuquerque and Santa Fe turn green. As Isaiah said, “the wilderness and the dry land” become “glad”; “the desert rejoice[s] and bloom[s]”. God’s renewal of creation emerges with color and fragrance, answering the dryness and dust of sadness and death.

Hoping for God’s renewal of human society, like waiting upon spring rains, can weary the strongest souls. 2024 has carried fear and frustration, loss and grief. Political discord, terrible hurricanes, wars, an election, the demonization of the defenseless. Malicious players stoked fear and anxiety. We’ve lived in desert times.

Through those deserts the Lord promises to come - to renew, bless, and save… To strengthen us when we are weak and to turn the desolate into beauty. To open our eyes to the life we cannot see, to tune our hearts to the music we cannot hear.

Sorrow and sighing will flee while the Lord leads the people forth rejoicing. Behold, the Savior comes! Come, Lord Jesus! Bring hope, strength, renewal! Lead us into the beauty and life of your new creation. Come! Amen.

The Rt. Rev. Kathryn McCrossen Ryan

of Divinity, Class of 1992

Bishop Suffragan

OF TEXAS

WEDNESDAY

Psalm 2, 85 v 110:1-5(6-7), 132 Zech. 2:10-13

1 John 4:7-16

John 3:31-36

“He who comes from above is above all. He who is of the earth belongs to the earth.” In John’s Gospel, the magic of Christmas is the beautiful, glory-filled, impossible possibility that the God who is “above” has become incarnate as one who “belongs to the earth.” In Jesus, the beauty of divinity has become visible in the beauty of earthly things—the face of one’s beloved, a child’s art project, a carefully wrapped Christmas present. In Jesus, the compassion of God has become present to the brokenness of this world—a gentle touch to a grieving heart, a word of mercy to a guilty party, a glimmer of hope in a landscape of war.

In Jesus, the love of God has made every person an object of desire—those who have known this world’s embrace and those who have not. “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.“

When all is said and done, the gospel is about love in all of its complications and challenges, in all of its glory and sweetness—the love that is made possible when that which is above touches all that is below, when heaven and earth embrace on Christmas morning.

Holy God, who touched the earth with your love, help us love like you. Amen.

The Rt. Rev. Kathryn “Kai” Ryan, Chair, Diocese of Texas

Mr. Robert C. “Clarke” Heidrick, Jr., Executive Chair, Diocese of Texas

The Rev. Morgan Allen, Treasurer, Diocese of Massachusetts

Dr. Scott Bader-Saye, Ex Officio, (non-voting member) Dean and President, Seminary of the Southwest

The Rt. Rev. Diana Akiyama, Diocese of Oregon

The Rev. Morgan Allen, Diocese of Massachusetts

The Rev. Bert Baetz, Diocese of West Texas

Taylor Bowles, Diocese of Texas

Anthony Chapple, Diocese of Texas

John Hancock, Diocese of Texas

Josephine Hicks, Diocese of North Carolina

The Rt. Rev. Carlye Hughes, Diocese of Newark

Shannon Hunter, Diocese of Texas

Fred Kalema-Musoke, Diocese of Virginia

The Honorable Lora Livingston, Diocese of Texas

The Rev. Lisa Mason, Diocese of New York

Lynn Meredith, Diocese of Texas

The Rev. Hugh Page, Diocese of Northern Indiana

The Rev. Kathy Pfister, Alumni Representative, Diocese of Texas

The Rev. Genevieve Razim, Diocese of Texas

The Rev. Rhonda Rogers, Diocese of Texas

The Rev. Dr. Roman Rolden, Diocese of Texas

The Rev. Jemonde Taylor, Diocese of North Carolina

The Very Rev. S. Chadwick “Chad” Vaughn, Diocese of Atlanta

The Rev. Greg Warren, Diocese of Arkansas

Patricia Young Brown, Diocese of Texas

Dr. Anthony Baker, Faculty Representative, Seminary of the Southwest

Gabbie Munn, Student Representative, Seminary of the Southwest

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