Third Saturday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
2 Samuel 7:23-29
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.”
Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19
1 Hear us, Shepherd of Israel, you who lead Joseph like a flock. You who sit enthroned between the cherubim, shine forth 2 before Ephraim, Benjamin and Manasseh. Awaken your might; come and save us. 3 Restore us, O God; make your face shine on us, that we may be saved. 4 How long, Lord God Almighty, will your anger smolder against the prayers of your people? 5 You have fed them with the bread of tears; you have made them drink tears by the bowlful. 6 You have made us an object of derision to our neighbors, and our enemies mock us. 7 Restore us, God Almighty; make your face shine on us, that we may be saved.
17 Let your hand rest on the man at your right hand, the son of man you have raised up for yourself. 18 Then we will not turn away from you; revive us, and we will call on your name. 19 Restore us, Lord God Almighty; make your face shine on us, that we may be saved.
John 3:31-36
31 The one who comes from above is above all; the one who is from the earth belongs to the earth, and speaks as one from the earth. The one who comes from heaven is above all. 32 He testifies to what he has seen and heard, but no one accepts his testimony. 33 Whoever has accepted it has certified that God is truthful. 34 For the one whom God has sent speaks the words of God, for God gives the Spirit without limit. 35 The Father loves the Son and has placed everything in his hands. 36 Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life, but whoever rejects the Son will not see life, for God’s wrath remains on them.
Hear us, Shepherd of Israel…
by Tim Tang
Rev. Dr. Timothy Tang was born in Toronto and has been a pastor at the East Toronto Chinese Baptist Church since 2001, first as the English-speaking congregational pastor, and now as the Intercultural Pastor-at-Large. As the son of international students, Tim leverages his personal experience of being a new Canadian to his present work in areas of ethnocultural inclusion at local and national levels. He has been seconded as the Director of the Tyndale Intercultural Ministries Centre under the Open Learning Centre at Tyndale University since 2019.
Recently, one of my children began his first year in a post-secondary school. We decided to have him live on campus because it was more than an hour's drive from where we live. I remember back in the summer, as he was mentally preparing for this next stage of life, I would often hear him say, “When I move out...” It was an interesting set of words that he chose. I kept reminding him that he wasn’t “moving out of our home,” but in fact was simply “moving into a dormitory.” Over and over, I would try to moderate his language because, really, I had made the same journey decades ago, to the exact same institution, literally moving into the very same residence. I mean, really, it was no big deal.
I remember, however, my own parents wanting to wish him luck and even requesting to have a “last meal” with him in the days leading up to his move. I remember my mother, with ever-focused sincerity, actually looking him straight in the eye and saying, “We are so proud of you, grandson.” My first reaction of course was, “What!?” Why did I never hear those words myself, mom, when I went away for school!?!” But, putting aside my own suppressed asian need for parental approval, I began to wonder why witnessing this stage of life seemed so meaningful to my parents.Both my parents came to Canada as international students. My mother tells the story of travelling by herself about 50 years ago on an airplane with one large suitcase, a handful of cash, and simply the phone number of her supervising professor, who would provide boarding for her. It was on this journey to Toronto where she would find lifelong friendships, a faith community, and a young man who would eventually become her husband and my father; oh, yes, and a graduate degree in entomology (ask her anything about the monarch butterfly and she will be pleased to entertain you!).
My father came about 70 years ago upon the encouragement of his best friend, although post-secondary education was never necessarily his own goal growing up. Back then, it was still more common to come across the Pacific by boat, but even that long voyage did not conclude until embarking on a trans-Canadian journey (I won’t even touch on the symbolism of a young student riding on tracks that young Chinese workers died building just 50 years before him), which finally brought him to a strangely French-speaking city in what he thought was an English-speaking country. It was here, in this foreign land and at this new stage of life, that he would find lifelong friendships, a faith community, and eventually a young woman who would eventually become his wife and my mother; oh, yes, and an undergraduate degree in physics (every visit to his home still requires helping him move the couch 1 cm to the right or 2 cm to the left).
Restore us, O God...
In the second book of Samuel, chapter 7, David has become king. He has retaken Jerusalem, defeated the Philistines, and even returned the Ark of the Covenant. This was a big deal. But as he finally settles into his palace and sits on his throne, you can almost hear the desperate longing between the lines of his prayer to God, “Now what?” All he had known through his life was struggle and restlessness, so we can only imagine how finding “rest” was a bit of a stretch. What would rest even look like to a man who has spent his entire life on the move. He spent his days as a child literally following sheep and living off the land for weeks at a time. Even being invited for the first time to live in the palace never ceased his need to evade spears being thrown at his head, which eventually led to his being a national fugitive for years. So we can understand why sitting peacefully, trying to find rest, and being asked to move into this next stage of life was such a huge deal.
And it is at this point that Nathan, the prophet, speaks to him. It is at this point that God meets with him. David is looking for direction. He’s looking for guidance, and probably reassurance. And in his prayer, the first thing that is brought to mind is the Exodus:
23And 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?
Restore us, God Almighty...
I think it is probably hard for many of us to fully understand what the Exodus meant to God’s people. As Christians, other than Jesus’ life and resurrection, we often look back to the Fall as a formative story. Gladly, I think more and more we are seeing people look to the Creation account as an even more seminal narrative. But if we really examine the facts, we quickly realize that the Exodus was truly, in fact, a big deal.
Over 200 years in the foreign land of Egypt—that alone should be the story. But if we trace the thread back to Joseph, we are reminded of the notions of rescue and prosperity that commenced that journey for Jacob’s family. A journey that eventually led to oppression and slavery. Oppression and slavery in a foreign land under foreign rulers. The Exodus story, of course, changes all of that, and in dramatic fashion. Never mind the miracles; literal freedom from slavery changed everything. Their geographical location. Their day-to-day activities. Their relationships with their bosses at work. Their relationship with work itself. All notions of what the future may hold were now in question. Sure, perhaps there was “rest” from their slave masters... but…now what?
Restore us, Lord God Almighty...
It is perhaps here that King David reflects on the faithfulness of God. God promised hope and redemption in the past, and he delivered. God’s people continued to see his face shine on them. Perhaps in remembering significant acts of God’s truth and word, David is able to think about the next chapter of his life, no matter how strange and different it might have been from anything he had experienced before.
After two years of never leaving the house, moving out of the only home he had ever known was probably a pretty big deal to my son. Sure, my wife and I had our concerns and worries. Who would wake him up for class in the morning? Who would take care of his laundry? Who would make sure he had food to eat every day? (Ok, yes, we have coddled our children for all of their lives) Will he be able to make lifelong friends? Will he find a faithcommunity? Will he find love and belonging?
It was perhaps in these moments that my parents’ subtle questions and actions reminded me of God’s undying faithfulness. God was faithful to them half a century ago. God was faithful to me and my own journey. And he will continue to be faithful for generations to come.
None of us have lived through a global pandemic. Surely not the present-day leaders, nor your pastor (or whatever spiritual guide you turn to). After two years of lockdown, if we are honest with ourselves, the future is not certain. What will church really look like? What will our jobs actually look like? Will we have the same relationships day-to-day? Will we have the same relationship with our loved ones? What would that even look like? And yet, as uncertain as looking forward may be, we all have our Exodus stories, don’t we? Maybe not in our own personal histories. But at the very least one, two, or maybe even three generations ago. As we look back to our God, should we not be confident that he will restore our future?
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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…