Fourth Friday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
2 Samuel 7:18, 23-29
18 Then King David went in and sat before the Lord, and he said: “Who am I, Sovereign Lord, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?
23 And who is like your people Israel—the one nation on earth that God went out to redeem as a people for himself, and to make a name for himself, and to perform great and awesome wonders by driving out nations and their gods from before your people, whom you redeemed from Egypt? 24 You have established your people Israel as your very own forever, and you, Lord, have become their God. 25 “And now, Lord God, keep forever the promise you have made concerning your servant and his house. Do as you promised, 26 so that your name will be great forever. Then people will say, ‘The Lord Almighty is God over Israel!’ And the house of your servant David will be established in your sight. 27 “Lord Almighty, God of Israel, you have revealed this to your servant, saying, ‘I will build a house for you.’ So your servant has found courage to pray this prayer to you. 28 Sovereign Lord, you are God! Your covenant is trustworthy, and you have promised these good things to your servant. 29 Now be pleased to bless the house of your servant, that it may continue forever in your sight; for you, Sovereign Lord, have spoken, and with your blessing the house of your servant will be blessed forever.”
Luke 1:46b-55
“My soul glorifies the Lord 47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48 for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, 49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me— holy is his name. 50 His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation. 51 He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. 52 He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. 53 He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty. 54 He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful 55 to Abraham and his descendants forever, just as he promised our ancestors.”
Galatians 3:6-14
6 So also Abraham “believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness.” 7 Understand, then, that those who have faith are children of Abraham. 8 Scripture foresaw that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, and announced the gospel in advance to Abraham: “All nations will be blessed through you.” 9 So those who rely on faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith. 10 For all who rely on the works of the law are under a curse, as it is written: “Cursed is everyone who does not continue to do everything written in the Book of the Law.” 11 Clearly no one who relies on the law is justified before God, because “the righteous will live by faith.” 12 The law is not based on faith; on the contrary, it says, “The person who does these things will live by them.” 13 Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: “Cursed is everyone who is hung on a pole.” 14 He redeemed us in order that the blessing given to Abraham might come to the Gentiles through Christ Jesus, so that by faith we might receive the promise of the Spirit.
The Road Marked Unease
by Jared Siebert
Jared Siebert serves in many capacities in the Canadian Church. He founded an organization of missionary church leaders called the New Leaf Network and is one of Canada’s leading inter-denominational church planter trainers. But church planting isn’t the only kind of experience he has garnered. In his ministry roles Jared has had the opportunity to work with churches of all kinds from all over Canada. He has acted as a consultant in churches large and small, urban and rural, and new and long established. He has written a discipleship curriculum, a handbook on church planter training, and a Church Health workbook called the LifePlan. As a sought after speaker and consultant Jared is uniquely able to draw insight and inspiration from a variety of sources and bring that to the table as he helps churches move toward unity and the mission of God.
Recently, my job of 18 years with the Free Methodist Church in Canada ended. The process of leaving my role has included many little moments that remind me that this is really happening. And it's all permanent. As I write this reflection, the IT department is removing my email access. I will no longer be receiving emails at that work address. Of course, I have other email addresses. Just not that one anymore. I’ve just finished a stretch of other lasts: last staff meetings, last leadership team meetings, last board meetings, last ministers conferences, etc. Things that have been in my calendar every week and every year for 18 years are getting deleted. I’ve said my goodbyes. I’ve had farewell meals and Zoom calls. Even when you’re leaving well (and I am mostly), this process is a slow disappearing act. My old life is vanishing in stages and tiny steps.
As of right now, I have no clear plan or path for the future. I’m walking into a giant question mark. The future doesn’t exist yet. It will come. Of course, it will come. Right?! Later.
In Galatians 3:7, we read,, “Understand, then, that those who have faith are children of Abraham.” I’ve never felt more like Abraham’s son than I do today. My spiritual “dad,” was called by God to leave the land of his father and go searching for a land God would show him. Later. His journey was buoyed by the promise that “all nations will be blessed through you.” A promise that would be fulfilled. Later. A lot later. That resonates with where I am this Advent. I am leaving a place I know for a place I don’t. It is a familiar story for “those who faith.” This time next year, things will likely look different than they do right now. God is good, and I know I’m going to be fine. But right now, this doesn’t feel very good.
Scott Erickson, in his chapter titled “Unease” from his book “Honest Advent,” speculates imaginatively and beautifully on the morning sickness Mary may have endured during her pregnancy with Jesus. If such things can be called beautiful. He describes the process like this: “The presence of God was felt as the unease of morning sickness. Don’t be surprised if your current unease is that exact same avenue of presence.” While I’ve never had morning sickness myself, I have had a front-row seat for the show. It doesn’t look pleasant. But for many women, it is a part of the process of carrying new life. Morning sickness is an accurate description of what this feels like for me right now. It won’t always be this way. But that’s what it feels like right now. Erickson reflects further “The process of growth is always uneasy, because growth never comes through ease. It comes through the stretching and expanding of one’s own capacity to push on ahead. And often the change that needs to happen in or for you to grow may leave you dry heaving on the sidelines.” Yep. The math checks out.
If you are like me and you are facing an uncertain future right now, then I encourage you to join me in embracing the unease that comes with the advent of the new. This is, after all, something our spiritual family knows a thing or two about. This is our family resemblance. Our spiritual mothers and fathers before us have walked the path marked “unease” many times, in many different moments, and often with much higher stakes. Their willingness to push on ahead is our inheritance. All of our arrivals, current and future, required the steps they took. Our own faithfulness in pushing on ahead right now will add some to the inheritance. Future people of faith will get to add theirs too. And so it goes. It’s our family’s way. Like our dad, Abraham, we sometimes have to walk in the unease. We have to leave the land of our childhood and walk toward a land we’ve never seen. Erickson offers us this encouragement for the journey, “The uneasiness is not a sign you’re doing it wrong. In fact, just as with pregnancy, it’s a sign that you’re on the right track.” Whether your journey is by choice or by the force of circumstance, our family knows this much: you don’t walk the road alone. You have walking partners, both alive and dead. You have a great cloud of witnesses always cheering you on. And most of all, you have the presence that goes with you. God isn’t just in the arriving; God can also be found in the leaving. And in the middle part, where you can neither see the land you left nor the land you are walking toward. God is present each step of the way. Known and Unknown.
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Explore last year’s Advent Reader:
As the scene opens, in Luke 2, there are no indications that tonight would be unlike any other night. The ones keeping watch are not an elite military unit or a secretive spy agency. Just an ordinary group of shepherds pulling another night shift.
I cannot remember a time in my life where I have heard the word peace more often than I have in the last few years. It seems everyone everywhere is longing and calling for peace.
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As I write this Advent devotional, my heart is heavy. Heavy with the weight and tension of 2021. Heavy with pandemic tensions, the tensions of racial unrest, family tensions, health concerns. This year, my roads have been barricaded, my finances eroded, my relationships damaged, and my children hurt…
Christmas 1914—it was only five months into the First World War. Cultural memory remembers this war as senseless and wasteful, ending an era of stability for the West. I was taught in school that this was the war that disabused the West of their own civility in war—with the introduction of chemical warfare, machine guns, and far more powerful artillery than the world had seen up to this point…
I am not sure when I first became aware of the way my subconscious converses with my conscious self through song. But in the same way you begin to see the same car you just purchased, around every corner, I notice it happening all the time now…
We live in a world that can easily consume us with its catastrophes, commercials and cacophonies. These come at us from our larger world, or our smaller worlds; there is noise from every side vying for our attention, trying to prop up some image of what an ideal world or life should be…
“Mary was a total bada**!” she blurted out, and then almost immediately covered her mouth. This spontaneous (and hilarious) outburst happened one Sunday morning while our community was walking through Mary’s Song, the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-53)…
Growing up, Christmas was a relatively quiet experience. My mom often worked through the holidays, and living on a hobby farm meant we weren’t going far if we were to go anyway. The one day I’d look forward to was the one day my aunt, uncle and cousin would come to visit…
The past few months have been a particular season of stillness and readiness in Advent for my wife Bonnie and I. This has been one of the hardest years I can remember, encompassing family losses, pandemic social collapse and isolation, health failures, and surgery…
I have found that seasons of waiting tend to come and go in intensity and I’m coming out of one of the tougher ones for me right now. During this past June and July, the time from Monday to Friday seemed to take extra long…
A little over a year ago, I sat in a park, bundled up with a small group of people trying to safely do church in the midst of a global pandemic. Beside me sat a man about my age, whom I hadn’t seen since well before the start of the pandemic…
Today’s text from Isaiah brings to mind the many tree stumps dotting the perimeter of our home. When we moved here our single acre of land was ringed with overgrown box elder, or Manitoba maple. These trees grow like weeds but have a short lifespan. Wind storms have felled a number of them; the stumps are what remain after we clean up the fallen trees…
I’m gonna just say this flat out: I felt a leetle bit of excitement when I read the first reading from Numbers today.
I know that doesn’t make me look good. I know that this is one of those stories that we are supposed to struggle with in Scripture, and I promise that I do…
I grew up singing and have always loved to sing. We sang together as a family during evening devotions. My first memories of singing are from when I was 4 years old and my sister was 3….
“If you aren’t angry, you aren’t paying attention.” That’s been my favorite bumper sticker, and I just found it on a t-shirt for sale this Christmas.There’s a lot in this world and in myself to be outraged about this year; anger has been a great fuel to get out there, right some wrongs and feel a little more self-righteous along the way…
I went to bible school way back in the 1990s. This was before the fancy technology of today. My computer was a word processer with a 4-inch screen. We made calls on the communal dorm payphone shared by thirty students. Cellphones were not around quite yet, so people communicated by writing notes to each other instead of texting…
In mid-September, I started a 100-Day Dress Challenge, which means I have worn the very same dress every day for two and a half months. Sounds a little crazy, doesn’t it? Maybe it is, but it has also been freeing; decision fatigue is a real thing, and I experience less of it when I have fewer decisions in the morning related to what I wear…
For most (all?) of us, the past year and a half has shifted our understanding and experiences of time. I can no longer remember whether the pandemic started in 2020 or 2019. If you ask me when I last went to a sports game or a concert, it simultaneously feels like six months and six years ago…
For what do you most deeply long?
For the people to whom Isaiah spoke,
the people who were in exile,
their longing was clear:
a safe way through the wilderness,
and a path home again.
Here’s the Infinitum Christmas Plan take on the old discipline of ‘divine reading’.
First Movement: Peruse. Peruse means ‘read (something), typically in a thorough or careful way. Before you start, ask the Lord to open the eyes of your heart for this exercise and then read slowly, curiously, and aggressively…
Some things in life cannot be rushed.
Hasn’t our experience with COVID and all its associated uncertainties taught us that? We’ve been tentatively trudging our way out of isolations, shut-downs, and cancellations for a while now, and we still don’t know if COVID is over.
Because some things in life cannot be rushed…
When I first saw this painting, I was struck by the contrast between the image’s cold setting and its warm colour tones. I could feel heat radiating from the crowd on the left and the chilled air being breathed in by the workers in the field and by children at play…
“An evil generation demands a sign,” Jesus says.
I’m always looking for signs. A running transcript of my prayers might read something like this:
God, please show me what to do.
God, should I speak up? Should I stay quiet?
Is it time to start something new? Is it time to call it quits? To press pause?
Should I give that person a call, God? A text maybe? Or let them have some space?
Is now the time? Or, God, are you saying to wait?
God, please just show me what to do…
Growing up, my sisters and I built gingerbread houses and decorated them so thoroughly that the powdered sugar dust lingered in the curtains for weeks. We built palaces of icing and cookie sheets. But then the horrible reality set in almost immediately as we recalled The Great Law of Advent…
Advent is a season of expectation. We look back to the birth of Jesus and contemplate all that this event means for our lives. However, is it possible to gain a similar perspective from an event that has not yet occurred…
Thank you for joining us for the 2021 New Leaf Advent Reader. I am excited to share this collection of reflections from writers across Canada during the Advent Season. The authors are pastors and poets; historians and theologians; laypeople and church leaders. And they all come together to wrestle with the tensions of the Advent season…