Third Tuesday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
2 Kings 2:9-22
9 When they came to the other side, Elijah said to Elisha, “Tell me what I can do for you before I am taken away.” And Elisha replied, “Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit and become your successor.” 10 “You have asked a difficult thing,” Elijah replied. “If you see me when I am taken from you, then you will get your request. But if not, then you won’t.” 11 As they were walking along and talking, suddenly a chariot of fire appeared, drawn by horses of fire. It drove between the two men, separating them, and Elijah was carried by a whirlwind into heaven. 12 Elisha saw it and cried out, “My father! My father! I see the chariots and charioteers of Israel!” And as they disappeared from sight, Elisha tore his clothes in distress. 13 Elisha picked up Elijah’s cloak, which had fallen when he was taken up. Then Elisha returned to the bank of the Jordan River. 14 He struck the water with Elijah’s cloak and cried out, “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” Then the river divided, and Elisha went across. 15 When the group of prophets from Jericho saw from a distance what happened, they exclaimed, “Elijah’s spirit rests upon Elisha!” And they went to meet him and bowed to the ground before him. 16 “Sir,” they said, “just say the word and fifty of our strongest men will search the wilderness for your master. Perhaps the Spirit of the Lord has left him on some mountain or in some valley.” “No,” Elisha said, “don’t send them.” 17 But they kept urging him until they shamed him into agreeing, and he finally said, “All right, send them.” So fifty men searched for three days but did not find Elijah. 18 Elisha was still at Jericho when they returned. “Didn’t I tell you not to go?” he asked. Elisha’s First Miracles 19 One day the leaders of the town of Jericho visited Elisha. “We have a problem, my lord,” they told him. “This town is located in pleasant surroundings, as you can see. But the water is bad, and the land is unproductive.” 20 Elisha said, “Bring me a new bowl with salt in it.” So they brought it to him. 21 Then he went out to the spring that supplied the town with water and threw the salt into it. And he said, “This is what the Lord says: I have purified this water. It will no longer cause death or infertility.” 22 And the water has remained pure ever since, just as Elisha said.
Psalm 125
A song for pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem.1 Those who trust in the Lord are as secure as Mount Zion; they will not be defeated but will endure forever. 2 Just as the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds his people, both now and forever. 3 The wicked will not rule the land of the godly, for then the godly might be tempted to do wrong. 4 O Lord, do good to those who are good, whose hearts are in tune with you. 5 But banish those who turn to crooked ways, O Lord. Take them away with those who do evil. May Israel have peace!
Acts 3:17-4:4
17 “Friends, I realize that what you and your leaders did to Jesus was done in ignorance. 18 But God was fulfilling what all the prophets had foretold about the Messiah—that he must suffer these things. 19 Now repent of your sins and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped away. 20 Then times of refreshment will come from the presence of the Lord, and he will again send you Jesus, your appointed Messiah. 21 For he must remain in heaven until the time for the final restoration of all things, as God promised long ago through his holy prophets. 22 Moses said, ‘The Lord your God will raise up for you a Prophet like me from among your own people. Listen carefully to everything he tells you.’ 23 Then Moses said, ‘Anyone who will not listen to that Prophet will be completely cut off from God’s people.’ 24 “Starting with Samuel, every prophet spoke about what is happening today. 25 You are the children of those prophets, and you are included in the covenant God promised to your ancestors. For God said to Abraham, ‘Through your descendants all the families on earth will be blessed.’ 26 When God raised up his servant, Jesus, he sent him first to you people of Israel, to bless you by turning each of you back from your sinful ways.” Peter and John before the Council 4 While Peter and John were speaking to the people, they were confronted by the priests, the captain of the Temple guard, and some of the Sadducees. 2 These leaders were very disturbed that Peter and John were teaching the people that through Jesus there is a resurrection of the dead. 3 They arrested them and, since it was already evening, put them in jail until morning. 4 But many of the people who heard their message believed it, so the number of men who believed now totaled about 5,000.
NLT
Healing Water
by Amy Bratton
Amy Bratton is the Director of Operations & Publishing for the New Leaf Network and the project manager for the Canadian Multivocational Ministry Project. She lives in Saskatoon, SK with her husband, Tim, and their two sons, Oswald and Ira. She is a lay leader at Riversdale Neighbours church and an Adjunct Professor with Rocky Mountain College in the area of Spiritual Formation. She writes and speaks about the history of Christian spirituality, with a focus on the early Methodist understanding of Christian maturity known as “perfect love.” Read more from her in her book Witnesses of Perfect Love: Narratives of Christian Perfection in Early Methodism.
This year during Advent we are anticipating that Christmas will be very different. Change seems to be the thing that is universal in 2020. We look back at pictures with friends huddled close together for the camera and we miss that reality when we gathered in groups, when we stood that close to each other without a second thought. We miss the “before times.” It feels like everything has changed.
Yet, there are so many ways that change has always been with us. Life changed drastically for me with parenthood, many of the things we all have been experiencing during the pandemic transitioned for me in 2016 when my oldest son was born. I changed from going to a workplace all week to staying home. My social bubble closed in without those office relationships and the chance of running into people in the neighbourhood while I ran errands at my leisure. In many ways, previous changes in my life — moving cities, getting married, having kids — all prepared me for the changes that took place in 2020. Yet, there are also so many ways I was unprepared for anything that happened in 2020.
In the lectionary reading today we see another one of these life changes unfolding. We find the prophets Elijah and Elisha standing beside the Jordan river just before the prophet Elijah is taken to heaven. The prophetic mantle was about to be passed to a new prophet — in this case, it was a literal mantle. Elijah disappears in the fiery chariot and Elisha picks up Elijah’s cloak that had dropped and promptly tests out if he has received the Spirit of God by displaying the power of YHWH in the same way that Elijah had just demonstrated, parting the water of the Jordan river.
People looked on and they saw both the continuity and the disruption.
Elisha was still there, but Elijah was not.
A prophet of YHWH still stood before them able to perform the same miracle, but would Elisha be different in his prophetic role?
The needs of their community remained ever present, but the prophet that had given them a connection to YHWH was gone.
The first response of the onlookers is to do everything they can to ensure that everything stays the same. They come to Elisha; we have resources, they say, we have fifty people, we can find Elijah and return things to normal. Elisha, having seen the change unfold before his eyes, asks them not to go on that mission. When they insist, he relents and patiently waits for them to return empty-handed. I hear more than a little sarcasm in the words in verse 17, “Didn’t I tell you not to go?”
Despite their best efforts, the change took place, the new prophet stood before them.
As we face the changes all around us, these are unprecedented times, but change itself is a familiar part of our human condition. What is our response to change? Will we be able to hear the prophetic voice among us pointing us back to God’s presence and away from our attempts to control the situation? Will we seek to restore the previous situation using all the resources we can muster?
On different days I find myself identifying with different people in this narrative.
In some of the changes in my life, I’ve been Elijah. Things ended and I was moving on. I didn’t stay connected to the context I left behind. I just left.
More often, I think I find myself with those onlookers. I didn’t see what was happening, I just see that things are different. And, I’m not so sure about this new reality, I’d rather spend my energy on a search party for the normal life that is now missing. I wouldn’t want to give up too easily on keeping the old normal in place. By my own effort, I can keep things going like they always have been. While I know that I have great skill at making things happen in most spheres of my life, high levels of anxiety often accompany this frenetic effort of the search party for my normal life.
But, sometimes, if I’m lucky, I find myself in Elisha’s shoes. He had the chance to hear from Elijah that the end was coming. He even saw the miraculous transition when Elijah was taken away in a fiery chariot. A change happens and then I am standing in the new reality, holding the mantle and feeling the Spirit of God., It is in those moments when I don’t have any doubt about the way forward, because I’ve seen God at work and I know something new has come.
In contrast to the anxiety that can accompany my human efforts to sort things out, when I am in Elisha’s shoes a calm settles in. That calm has nothing to do with whether the situation is safer or more predictable than the old normal. But, there is a clarity of purpose that is hard to put into words.
I find myself feeling like I am in Elisha’s shoes when I think about the church I call home. I’m not a church planter at heart — I like more structure, fewer unknowns. But, as I saw the religious landscape shifting around me and my friends, a new kind of church that makes more space for questions and doubts made sense. One that isn’t beholden to that’s how we’ve always done it. One that has room to lean into practices from the ancient church or newly minted prayers written by one of our own. That’s when I feel like I’m standing in Elisha’s shoes. And this year, this intimate community of faith has been a great blessing in the midst of many uncertainties, because none of those uncertainties undermined the fact that we are a community to each other even when we can’t gather in person.
Coming back to the story, as the people around him search for Elijah, Elisha waits. He is still there when the search party returns. And despite the sarcasm that I hear in his voice — which probably says more about me than Elisha — he is ready to welcome them into the new reality.
What happened next gave me goosebumps when I read this text. The search party returns, and then another group of people enter the story; the people of Jericho see Elisha’s new role as prophet and they approach him with their need. The water is bad and the land is unproductive. Then, with a few everyday objects and some faith Elisha heals the waters. And the city can prosper.
I long for that kind of healing and prosperity. Don’t you?
What are the new realities in your life right now?
Where do you find yourself?
Are you in the search party?
Are you waiting for the people around you to return from their fruitless search?
Are you bringing your need to the new prophet, who just might be able to help?
Where might God be calling you to witness the healing water?
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Read previous Advent Reader posts:
Joy to the world!
It might be a cold and broken hallelujah, but it's a hallelujah nonetheless.
We made it.
Despite the backdrop of injustice, the broken, decay, unlikely and at times discouraging spaces the people find themselves in, the prophets echo the sentiment of Isaiah 9 more often than we may recall: “The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness a light will shine.”
A pandemic is an interesting time to have health care workers in your life, as I do. In normal times, I expect to hear stories of sick people and families struggling with loved ones’ illnesses. But what I did not expect during this time are the constant stories of stress and anxiety. Working in health care is always stressful. But this year’s pandemic has accentuated many of these stresses..
Sometimes the most profound truths come to us from humble teachers. A few years ago, after a particularly difficult day at work, I bought myself a small potted plant as a pick-me-up (I know, I know - emotional spending, but never mind that now)..
Two thousand years of patriarchy have undoubtedly diminished the powerful words of the two women in our readings. Today we will centre one, a voice that comes to us in the form of a song…
When I hear the word home, I find myself flooded with memory and meaning. I see the familiarity of shoes scattered over mats in the garage of my childhood, smell buns baking on busy Saturday mornings, feel the pulls and aches of being misunderstood and simultaneously cherished…
When people talk about “biblical manhood” I think of Samson, the manly man. There he is, rolling out from under a Camaro, wrench in his teeth, sweat on his brow, oil stain on his bicep and, of course, glistens of divine approval on his mullet of biblical proportions. He is awesome…
For the past few months, I’ve had the privilege of being a part of the New Leaf Network Design Shop, the online edition. While moving the event online had some limitations, it did allow us to have English-to-French translation provided in realtime for our Francophone participants. It was a sight to behold watching our skilled translators work so hard to keep up, and by all accounts, they did an excellent job…
Advent. Waiting for God to come close. Our passages today remind us that our God is an intimate God. He likes close proximity to us…
Three hundred hand-folded origami butterflies, tenderly wrapped in torn sheet cocoons, threaded onto fishing line and hung across our sanctuary. An art installation to kick off lent, a reminder that in the darkness, in our proverbial piles of goo, in the waiting, God cocoons us in his hands, transforming us with her grace. The big reveal was to come Easter Sunday morning. Our church family would enter the sanctuary and be met with the bright colourfulness of 300 butterflies soaring above them. The waiting over, the tattered cocoons lying at their feet, the transformation complete. But that day has yet to come.
“Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD. Lord hear my voice…”
The psalmist pens a cry universal to our experience. Perhaps, the deep longing strikes a more poignant and universal chord during this year of pandemic disruption and, often unwelcome, change…
I am a neighbourhood pastor. Some days I am not sure what that means. Pastors who see their pulpit as their home base have a focus for their week. They know what to get on about. Other pastors who see their programs and leadership as their passion have their work before them…
When the news of the national security bill had indeed been passed in Hong Kong, my stomach dropped through the floor. The last few months had already had me on tenterhooks, a low thrum of tension and scraped nerves—through the protests and the violence and the thought of home in such utter crisis…
Not long ago, I was asked to do a devotional for a group of young people just coming off a year-long intensive mission program. What to say? I remember that kind of transition in my own life as a student, and how hard it was to switch from mission life to “normal” life. And my mind went to a conversation I once had with my wife about Lord of the Rings…
“YHWH, do something!” Habakkuk does not mince his words when he presents his complaints before God. As he watches Judah implode from injustice and immorality, he cries out to God with urgency and desperation…
I was standing in a church basement on a cold winter day in Edmonton when I received one of the most honest compliments of my life. “Overall, you’re not an a**hole." I mean, does it get any better than that?
The subtle invitation of the readings for this second Tuesday of Advent is to “listen.” But, to listen on a Tuesday? Tuesday is a day of the week that finds us in full activity. It is not Monday when we start the week and plan for the days to come. It is not a Wednesday or Thursday when we are in the middle of the week to see how we are doing. Finally, it is not a Saturday or a Sunday where we evaluate the week, we give thanks, and we recover. It is simply a Tuesday. In any event, today's readings invite us to “listen.”
Over the summer, my wife and I decided to have our kitchen renovated. The old kitchen had been around for over 3 decades (which actually meant it was older than my wife!) and it was in huge need of a makeover…
Twice a year, spring and fall, in most parts of our country, we change our clocks one hour either ahead or back depending on the time of year. Sometimes regardless of the reminders from friends, the media, we forget. Several years ago, when I had just moved to Fort Frances I was on the schedule to lead the early worship service at 9:00 am…
In the Advent season, we remember that Jesus came from Heaven to live on earth, and we anticipate his imminent return. But what we should also do is reflect on what Jesus’ coming has to do with our lives today. Do we know who Jesus is and what He is doing among us? How can we faithfully participate in His work on earth?
When the news of the national security bill had indeed been passed in Hong Kong, my stomach dropped through the floor. The last few months had already had me on tenterhooks, a low thrum of tension and scraped nerves—through the protests and the violence and the thought of home in such utter crisis…
As I write this we have a big appointment for someone in my house tomorrow. It’s a medical appointment that we’ve been waiting on for more than a year and a half. There’s a lot riding on it, and there’s no way to know whether it will be helpful or unhelpful….
Last year I burned out. Before the world hit a pandemic pause, my own world halted. Looking back, I can see now that disruption was a gift to me. But at the time I only felt exhausted.
I’ve always been a little afraid of the second coming of Christ. There’s a lot of good things in the world and there were so many things I wanted to experience before we were all “whisked away to that spirit in the sky.”
As I approach Christmas this year it is with a certain resignation. I want to plan. I want to be scrolling through advent liturgies for the kids to read Sunday mornings as our tiny church family joins to light the candles on the advent wreath.
Isaiah's very powerful and poignant plea to God to split the sky, shake the earth, and settle the score is such an earthy and familiar request.
I’ve been there. Often.
Welcome to the third annual New Leaf Advent Reader. We are so glad you are here with us to journey through Advent while reflecting on change and disruption.
Explore last year’s Advent Reader:
Dear Advent readers,
Thank you so much for going on this Advent journey through scripture and reflections with us…..
I lost hope this Christmas season.
I didn’t mean to, in fact, I’m not even sure where exactly I lost it.
But lo and behold, somewhere between the eggnog and the garland, I slowed down enough to realize my trusty sense of “all manner of things shall be well” had gone missing. Had I misplaced it? Did it disappear forever?…
At the conclusion of this Advent season, I wonder how many times you have thought of Christmas as the opportunity to live free from idols?…
Our second son was born mid-January, and the December before he arrived was a Christmas season like no other. I grew up familiar with the contours of the Christmas Story: the stable, angels, shepherds and wisemen. I’ve heard (and preached) many sermons about the miracle and wonder of it all, God-with-us!
But that Christmas was something special.
My children are heavy in my lap, three and six years old, cozy on our couch watching televised British people bake. These children snuggle into me. Their heads smell of shampoo and the faint sweaty sweetness of outdoor play in toques….
The strong was made vulnerable, made helpless, made refugee, and made all with the authority and the backing of the God of the universe. The King is coming, and sometimes the hope of the coming King catches my breath and all time around me stops….
Christmas was perhaps one of the more magical times of year when I was young. It was particularly special for my mom. Every year she would decorate the house inside & out like she was from the Griswold family….
In the early morning hours post-election of the now famed, Donald Trump, I held my then 8-month-old in distress. What kind of world had I brought a child into?…
Have you ever had something you needed to say, but your body refused to say it?
When I think about silence and speech in the Christmas story, I remember the priest Zechariah, whose ability to speak was removed by the angel Gabriel until after his son, John the Baptist, was born. How ironic,…
Today’s reflection is based on Jude, that tiny one-chapter letter in the New Testament we mostly skip over to get to the metaphorical circus of Revelation. This is fitting, however, because Jude was a Holy Fool.…
If you grew up in pretty much any part of the church in the 1980s or after, you probably have memories of the almost-acceptably-cheesy praise song “As The Deer” which is based on one of our readings for today – Psalm 42..…
Today, as I read Isaiah 35, I thought of a few things. I found myself remembering the actions of an old Sunday School song we used to sing using the words of these verses – miming putting a crown on our heads, making motions of sweeping as we talked about sadness and joy fleeing away, and giggling as we would sweep our hands towards the friends around us, turning the song into a game...…
In the past, when Advent approached, it was a mix of Christmas songs, carols, Santa Claus parades, Christmas card exchanges, workplace dinners, and gift exchanges. Along with volunteering with The Salvation Army, Christmas light drives at night, church musical outreaches, and children’s school holiday concerts. I’m already tired just thinking about it.
It’s always the fire, isn’t it? As a young lad, I would spend an hour every week stuck in a church pew without a kids program or snack bag to comfort me. Perhaps it was here that I first heard…
The Christmas Eve candlelight service is about to begin. After a day of unsuccessfully trying to avoid meltdowns from over-excited kids, running to the store for one last bag of milk, and racking your brain to remember where on earth you stashed those gifts you bought back in August, you sink wearily into the pew.
Reading Scripture can be tricky. I think we often fall into a trap when we read about the lives of our spiritual fore-parents. We sit in our comfortable armchairs with our leather-bound book filled with crisp, white pages and wonder to ourselves how “they” could be so foolish and unfaithful. Of course, if we could put ourselves in their places we would know how gritty and difficult their faith journeys actually were.
When we scroll through social media for the 18th time, or listen to the latest news events, it’s often draining. The world sounds like a mess with no end in sight and we–WE–are a part of it. The messy part.
When we scroll through social media for the 18th time, or listen to the latest news events, it’s often draining. The world sounds like a mess with no end in sight and we–WE–are a part of it. The messy part.
I grew up in a congregation with a deep love of choral music. For many years, I joined the men’s choir to sing at the Christmas Eve Candlelight service because I always looked forward to singing Es ist ein Ros’ entsprugen (Lo, How a Rose e’er Blooming) in four-part male harmony.
The first theologian who introduced me to the concept of Advent being something other than an effervescent, sparkling, anticipation-filled countdown to Christmas, was the Rev. Fleming Rutledge. As I watched a recording of her declaring ”The significance of the birth of Jesus Christ will forever elude us if we are unable to take an inventory of the gravity of the human condition”, something in me said a quiet yes.
I hadn’t been home for Christmas in five years.
It was December 23, 2008, and I vibrated with excitement as we exited our car in the Orlando Airport parking garage. My husband was wrestling luggage from the trunk as I unstrapped our toddler from his car seat. In just a few short hours, this little guy would be spending Christmas with his grandparents for the very first time.
The liturgical season of Advent is a space where the mixed emotions of longing and grief are given space to sit in tension. In contrast to the “Christmas season” filled with Christmas parties, one more gift exchange to buy a gift for, hunting for the most desired gift on a child’s wishlist and preparing far more food than is good for many of us. Creating space for the tension between what we long for and the struggles that are immediately before us is a delicate task.
In the Christian tradition, Advent is a season of great hope and possibility. God has come to dwell among human beings, setting in motion something new and mysterious – the kingdom of heaven emerging in our earthly dimension.
“I don’t know, but they did it. They’ve done it before and they did it tonight and they’ll do it again and when they do it—seems that only children weep,” I hear these words spoken from the backstage, where I stand, waiting in the wings for my next cue. I watch Marie, who is playing Scout Finch lean her head against Atticus, and I see the shine of tears in the eyes of the audience in the first row. Tonight, as with each previous performance, we all weep. The story doesn’t end as we expect; it’s all gone terribly wrong.
In the sparkly season of Christmas, I often feel out of sync when life is stressful or dark or just full of emotions. I know that Christmas can be full of happiness for many people, but sometimes I just feel the pressure to do Christmas “right” when I can’t muster up the requisite joy on my own.
Today’s reading in Isaiah is such a clear picture of a world I want to be a part of. Isaiah invites us to imagine a future in which God’s reign is at the centre of our world. A future where God’s judgment, true and just, begins to settle the disputes of many peoples.
Tomorrow is the beginning of Advent. Here on the New Leaf Blog, we are going to be journeying through Advent together with writers from across Canada. The New Leaf Network is a Canadian network spread across this northern country.