Second Sunday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
Isaiah 40:1-11
A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit. 2 The Spirit of the Lord will rest on him— the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the Lord— 3 and he will delight in the fear of the Lord. He will not judge by what he sees with his eyes, or decide by what he hears with his ears; 4 but with righteousness he will judge the needy, with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth. He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth; with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked. 5 Righteousness will be his belt and faithfulness the sash around his waist. 6 The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them. 7 The cow will feed with the bear, their young will lie down together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox. 8 The infant will play near the cobra’s den, and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest. 9 They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. 10 In that day the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples; the nations will rally to him, and his resting place will be glorious.
Psalm 72:1-7
Of Solomon.1 Endow the king with your justice, O God, the royal son with your righteousness. 2 May he judge your people in righteousness, your afflicted ones with justice. 3 May the mountains bring prosperity to the people, the hills the fruit of righteousness. 4 May he defend the afflicted among the people and save the children of the needy; may he crush the oppressor. 5 May he endure as long as the sun, as long as the moon, through all generations. 6 May he be like rain falling on a mown field, like showers watering the earth. 7 In his days may the righteous flourish and prosperity abound till the moon is no more.
Psalm 72:18-19
18 Praise be to the Lord God, the God of Israel, who alone does marvelous deeds. 19 Praise be to his glorious name forever; may the whole earth be filled with his glory. Amen and Amen.
Romans 15:4-13
4 For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope. 5 May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude of mind toward each other that Christ Jesus had, 6 so that with one mind and one voice you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. 7 Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God. 8 For I tell you that Christ has become a servant of the Jews on behalf of God’s truth, so that the promises made to the patriarchs might be confirmed 9 and, moreover, that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy. As it is written: “Therefore I will praise you among the Gentiles; I will sing the praises of your name.” 10 Again, it says, “Rejoice, you Gentiles, with his people.” 11 And again, “Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles; let all the peoples extol him.” 12 And again, Isaiah says, “The Root of Jesse will spring up, one who will arise to rule over the nations; in him the Gentiles will hope.” 13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Matthew 3:1-12
In those days John the Baptist came, preaching in the wilderness of Judea 2 and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” 3 This is he who was spoken of through the prophet Isaiah: “A voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.’” 4 John’s clothes were made of camel’s hair, and he had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey. 5 People went out to him from Jerusalem and all Judea and the whole region of the Jordan. 6 Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River. 7 But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to where he was baptizing, he said to them: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? 8 Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. 9 And do not think you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. 10 The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire. 11 “I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me comes one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12 His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”
Four-Letter Word
by Cathleen Getchell
Cathleen Getchell is the Communications Administrator for the New Leaf Network. She is a Christ-follower, on a circuitous journey, serving alongside the Kingscourt Free Methodist family as pastor to the Kingscourt neighbourhood. Most at home discovering new places; fan of boondocking, hiking, reading and photo-taking.
There is a four-letter word I am not particularly fond of at the moment. I suppose it makes sense in some situations. In other circumstances, I can hear it without getting annoyed. But where I am right now, in this season of life, with growing disillusionment, mounting frustration, transitions looming, and uncertainty around the corner, I am admittedly just not in a place to hear it.
I wonder if Isaiah’s audience felt similarly. The people of Israel were living in turmoil, having been exiled when the Assyrian empire conquered much of the region. They are looking for words of hope and comfort—a promise that peace is on the other side of their pain. What they are offered is a four-letter word. The word is “will.” In just the first 10 verses of Isaiah chapter 11, the word “will” (or “shall,” depending on your translation) is used 23 times.
Every occurrence serves as a reminder of what is not yet. I get it—the word “will” denotes hope, a hope for the peace that is to come. We cling to that hope.
But what about right now? What about our individual and collective yearning for peace in the present? What weight does the word “will” have for those in Ukraine under attack? How much solace does “will” offer to those who continue to face oppression and marginalization such as women, BIPOCs, and those whose identity includes LGBQT2S+. What immediate comfort does “will'' offer individuals going through the dark night of the soul? How much peace does “will” offer in our real and present sufferings?
How does it make you feel when, in the depths of your despair, someone with the best of intentions tells you “Everything will be okay”? On a cosmic level, this is true, but in this present life, in this very real moment, things are not as they should be. They are not okay. I'm curious how long the hope of "will" sustained Isaiah's listeners and their descendants, who were still in exile for another 70 years after hearing these words.
When contemplating that Isaiah's words of hope and comfort only materialized in the birth of the Christ child, 704 years after they were first spoken, how long did it take for the Israelite’s hope-filled embrace of "will" to turn into the pushback of "when?”
There is tension in hearing these words of Isaiah in the midst of present pain and suffering. Although the word “will” provides some hope, it does little to promote peace. I resonate more with the words of the Psalmist, who in the first seven verses of Psalm 72 uses the word “may” just as many times.
The ones who are suffering are praying for a deliverer to come and bring justice. Justice for the oppressed, the poor, the weak, and the needy. Justice against their oppressors. “May he judge your people with righteousness, and your poor with justice... May he defend the cause of the poor of the people, give deliverance to the needy, and crush the oppressor.” The Psalm begins with cries for justice, and then in verse 7, the stanza closes with “...may righteousness flourish and peace abound...” It begins with justice and ends in peace. I am reminded of the words of civil rights and peace activist Reverend Martin Luther King Jr.: “Without justice there can be no peace.”
This isn’t some clever political catchphrase. Jesus taught that true peace cannot exist without justice, which is a fundamental part of the Kingdom of God. The parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:29–37) demonstrates that justice is to be applied equally to all people, regardless of their social or economic status. Justice contributes to a society where everyone is treated with dignity and respect. (Luke 6:31).
Jesus' own self-sacrificing death reveals that the justice that leads to peace is based on mercy and compassion. The kind of justice that leads to genuine peace is when we love one another as Christ has loved us. “As I have loved you, so must you love one another.” (John 13:34) In the words of Jimi Hendrix, “When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.” Paul, in his epistle to the Romans, exhorts the Christian believers to live in peace and harmony with one another, following the example of Jesus (15:5).
When striving to live in harmony, we work together to create a more just and equitable environment where everyone is treated fairly and with dignity.
No Justice – No Peace.
Know Justice – Know Peace.
The combined passages from Isaiah 11 and Psalm 72 seem to me to capture our lived experience. Our clinging to a hope for future peace, which we know in Christ is already ours, while pleading for a present peace that is in many ways still unknown. On the one hand, Peace has already come in our deliverer, and redeemer, the Christ, but at the same time we do not often experience this practical peace in the present, and still we look forward with hope to the perfect and everlasting peace that is to come. So here I am, in the midst of the mystery, straddling a peace that is both mine now and awaits me but is in several ways still unrealized in my present experience.
In the Lectionary’s Gospel selection from Matthew chapter 3:1–12, John is preparing the way for Jesus, the Messiah, who will bring peace to the world. In this passage, John calls the people to repentance. Metanoia is the Greek term used here for repentance; it means to change one’s mind in such a way that it alters how we live and love. In verse 8, John is recorded as saying, “bear fruit worthy of repentance.” Might peace be a fruit we both bear and reap as we allow the transforming work of the Spirit to change the way we view God, our world, and the people in it?
In this metanoia that Christ makes possible, peace draws nearer. We prepare the way for Jesus, the way for peace with justice. To the degree that we do so, the peace that is made possible through Christ—the peace that is promised “will” come—does come, within ourselves, as peace for others and peace in this world, even as we wait for the coming of Christ again, who will bring the fullness of perfect peace to fruition once and for all.
I continue to live in the tension of the mystery of peace, knowing peace has come and clinging to the hope that peace “will” come, even as I prayerfully plead that Christ may deliver me, deliver us, and lead us into greater peace. A peace I recognize I reap and bear by acknowledging my ongoing need for the grace of Christ-enabled metanoia.
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There is a four-letter word I am not particularly fond of at the moment. I suppose it makes sense in some situations. In other circumstances, I can hear it without getting annoyed. But where I am right now, in this season of life, with growing disillusionment, mounting frustration, transitions looming, and uncertainty around the corner, I am admittedly just not in a place to hear it…
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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…