Second Sunday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13
For the director of music. Of the Sons of Korah. A psalm.You, Lord, showed favor to your land; you restored the fortunes of Jacob. 2 You forgave the iniquity of your people and covered all their sins.
8 I will listen to what God the Lord says; he promises peace to his people, his faithful servants— but let them not turn to folly. 9 Surely his salvation is near those who fear him, that his glory may dwell in our land. 10 Love and faithfulness meet together; righteousness and peace kiss each other. 11 Faithfulness springs forth from the earth, and righteousness looks down from heaven. 12 The Lord will indeed give what is good, and our land will yield its harvest. 13 Righteousness goes before him and prepares the way for his steps.
Isaiah 40:1-11
Comfort for God’s PeopleComfort, comfort my people, says your God. 2 Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her hard service has been completed, that her sin has been paid for, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins. 3 A voice of one calling: “In the wilderness prepare the way for the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. 4 Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain. 5 And the glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all people will see it together. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” 6 A voice says, “Cry out.” And I said, “What shall I cry?” “All people are like grass, and all their faithfulness is like the flowers of the field. 7 The grass withers and the flowers fall, because the breath of the Lord blows on them. Surely the people are grass. 8 The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.” 9 You who bring good news to Zion, go up on a high mountain. You who bring good news to Jerusalem, lift up your voice with a shout, lift it up, do not be afraid; say to the towns of Judah, “Here is your God!” 10 See, the Sovereign Lord comes with power, and he rules with a mighty arm. See, his reward is with him, and his recompense accompanies him. 11 He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.
2 Peter 3:8-15
The Authority of Jesus Questioned8 But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. 9 The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. 10 But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything done in it will be laid bare. 11 Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be? You ought to live holy and godly lives 12 as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming. That day will bring about the destruction of the heavens by fire, and the elements will melt in the heat. 13 But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells. 14 So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him. 15 Bear in mind that our Lord’s patience means salvation, just as our dear brother Paul also wrote you with the wisdom that God gave him.
Mark 1:1-8
John the Baptist Prepares the WayThe beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God, 2 as it is written in Isaiah the prophet: “I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way”— 3 “a voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.’” 4 And so John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5 The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River. 6 John wore clothing made of camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7 And this was his message: “After me comes the one more powerful than I, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. 8 I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
Star Light, Star Bright
by Diane Clifford
Diane Clifford currently resides in Fort Frances, Ontario, a small town in Northwestern Ontario surrounded by lakes, streams, rocks and trees to the east and fields to the west. The family in faith where she pastors is a group of people who believe that the Holy Spirit has called them into the world to share the love of Jesus in their everyday lives. Diane has always intentionally functioned in a bi-vocational capacity which provides plenty of opportunity to be active in the community, to meet people and to be engaged in the neighbourhood. Diane serves as a member of the New Leaf Network Board.
Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight.
Wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.
Remember these lyrics from a childhood nursery rhyme.
My friend Lorraine and I stood outside gazing at the night sky filled with a million stars shining and twinkling brightly against the darkness. The air was brisk and cold but we were bundled up in our parkas and snow pants, hoods over our toques, scarves wrapped around our necks and covering our mouths, warm boots on our feet and woollen mittens on our hands so we didn’t notice how cold it was out there. We stood close together, shoulders touching, hands by our sides, our faces tilted upwards so we could see the fullness of the heavens. Neither of us spoke for a few moments. Then together we recited the words reverently, slowly, hoping against hope, that our wishes would come true.
Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight.
Wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.
We had been friends since birth, growing up beside each other in the middle of nowhere surrounded by trees and more trees. It was a small community, a bush camp in Northern Ontario, with no television to watch or stores to shop in. The only real access to the world of shopping was the Eaton’s catalogue that came twice a year. When the catalogue arrived, we would pore over it, marvelling as we turned the pages, exclamations of delight and excitement especially at Christmas. What would be under our Christmas tree to open this year?
One year when we were about ten, we both fell in love with this one doll that we saw in the catalogue and we decided that was all we wanted for Christmas. The doll was about 8 inches tall, she had brown hair, mid-length in a poufy kind of style and she was wearing a red and white polka dot dress and red shoes. She was beautiful. We liked to be outside as much as we could and didn’t play with dolls very much but for some reason, we really wanted this doll. After supper, we would meet in the field behind our houses and say these words together, fervently, earnestly as though our lives depended on it. Every evening we stood in the bitter cold, looking up, believing that our wishes would come true.
Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight.
Wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.
This memory from my childhood has stuck with me. Did we get the doll? Of course, we did. Did we play with the doll much? For a while, but not long. Was it really about the doll? It may have seemed so at the time but the doll is long gone and our friendship remains to this day. It was the anticipation and hope that we shared that still resonates with me as we embark on the season of Advent.
Anticipation and hope! A time of expectancy! What are we waiting for?
Like many congregations our family in faith has an Advent Wreath; however, the Advent wreath we celebrate the season with is somewhat different. Traditionally, the candles are either purple or blue with one pink and the white Christ candle. The advent devotions we use have been taken from The Dancing Sun - An Indigenous Advent Resource. The four candles in the Advent wreath are yellow, black, red, and white and the Christ candle in the centre which symbolizes and reminds us that Christ is with us and is the centre of who we are, is blue. The four coloured candles remind us of the four directions, yellow - east, black - south, red - west, white - north and the people of the world. The greenery in the wreath is cedar which is sacred to First Nations people.
Rev Evelyn Broadfoot wrote these words “This advent wreath reminds us that we are part of the circle of life - we are a part of the whole of God’s creation and that everybody comes and has a place in the circle. We must always remember that and work towards that - this is the way of the circle - everyone is worth something and Jesus is always the centre of all that we are and all we profess to be!”
The advent wreath we use reminds us that all of life is sacred – that all is connected in some way and that we do this in community. As community, we dream together in anticipation and hope of the coming of Jesus bringing peace and reconciliation, one with another, one with all creation.
Sometimes when I ponder the world as it is currently, I recall the faith of that child who stood outside in the cold night looking up at an incredible sky filled with millions and millions of stars reciting the words:
Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight.
Wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.
What do I wish and hope for this year? As I stand in the circle of God’s creation I pray that I may have that childlike faith to walk in the light of Jesus with others in a way that brings peace, healing and love along the journey. Anticipating with hope and believing that it is possible!
Thank you for reading the New Leaf Advent Reader, a collection of reflections from writers across Canada. If you are enjoying the reader, sign up to receive the readings in your inbox each day here: SIGN UP
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Explore the year’s Advent Reader posts:
There is a small forest near my home that I love to walk in at dusk. The trail is well-worn. My feet know the way by heart. Why do I choose this trail time and again? There are certainly ones that are more peaceful and full. Maybe it's because God and I have done a lot of business there together. I've looked for His divine presence in the soft pine needles on the earthen floor on more than one occasion. I've added a lot of tearful prayers to the sounds of gently swaying trees as night falls…
As I reflect on today’s scripture readings and read in John how the religious people of the day denied Christ, it makes me think of those who are skeptical of reconciliation, those who are so comfortable with this present life that they do not want to think of our past history and the life’s journey of Indigenous people who have survived residential school or descendants who are suffering from inter-generational trauma. I have to ask the question, “What would Jesus do?” “Who does He call us to be?” “How do we obey the Great Commandment?”
As we reach the end of the Advent season, it’s not lost on me that the reflection I’ve been asked to write falls on December 22nd; the arrival of the winter solstice and the longest night of the year.
The reality of encroaching darkness has been with us for some time, and perhaps – like me – you’ve had to fight the urge to crawl into bed by 5:00 pm as your body tries to tell you it’s time for sleep, and the daylight seems to last only for an instant…
Essential to any meaningful relationship is ongoing communication. We know this on an instinctive level. This is especially true of a parent-child relationship. Parents listen intently for that first word and look forward to the time when their child can communicate their needs with words rather than tantrums…
I put my Christmas tree up this year the day after Halloween. It’s the earliest I have ever done so. If you knew me, you might be surprised at that. I’ve historically been a person who gets a wee bit overwhelmed by the expectations and the busyness of the season, so Christmas decor doesn’t usually go up until after American Thanksgiving (it’s ok, Canadian friends; my husband is American, and he loves American Thanksgiving, which is why that is an acceptable demarcation of seasons in our home). But this year? This year is different…
Advent is a time of waiting. Waiting for a time when it does not feel like evil is triumphing. Waiting for God’s restoration, when all in the world will be set right. Waiting for the Christ child to return as King.
This year as I reflect on the season of advent I realize more than ever that I am tired of waiting…
It’s Monday night and I am sitting at a long wooden table. Around me are eight others from our neighbourhood, a mix of professional artists and people who just love art…
Advent is one of my favourite seasons in the church calendar. Scott Erikson, in Honest Christmas, writes: “Advent means ‘coming’ in Latin, and these weeks are meant to prepare our hearts, minds, and souls for the arrival of God-with-Us, Jesus Christ, born to the virgin Mary a couple of millennia ago. You’re supposed to feel the wait – the anticipated arrival of something you want so badly – and by feeling the wait deeply, you’ll be even more satisfied by the celebration of the arrival of Christmas Day.”
"Joy" is a word that saturates the Christmas season. It echoes through carols, decorates cards and T-shirts, yet at times, amid the tumultuous backdrop of climate crises, global conflicts, and pervasive injustice, it can seem superficial…
This past summer as the kids played in their pools and begged me for more and more bubble solution and popsicles, I stumbled upon a feature from the podcast, OnScript. The episode focused on the work of Ted Smith and his latest book, The End of Theological Education…
I love everything about surprises. I appreciate the thought and effort necessary to create a successful surprise party. The collaboration required, the time offered, and the kindness demonstrated. All that love wrapped up in the word surprise makes me feel warm and fuzzy…
For someone who deals with anxiety, the fact that the Bible often says "Do not be afraid" is always hard for me. This is how Psalm 27 begins. Stating, “The Lord is my light and my salvation—so why should I be afraid? The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger, so why should I tremble?” I can see how this makes sense…
What can the birth of a man 2000 years ago possibly have to do with people who live today? This question came to rest in my thoughts as I was mowing my lawn for the last time this year. I ruminated on it while attempting to avoid disturbing the fallen leaves that provide a safe refuge for the wildlife that overwinters in them…
My friend Lorraine and I stood outside gazing at the night sky filled with a million stars shining and twinkling brightly against the darkness. The air was brisk and cold but we were bundled up in our parkas and snow pants, hoods over our toques, scarves wrapped around our necks and covering our mouths, warm boots on our feet and woollen mittens on our hands so we didn’t notice how cold it was out there…
My son is named Raven and so people often send me anything and everything that comes across their feed that has to do with corvids. And so, I was reading about crows recently (as one does) and I was moved by the concept of a scarecrow…
In today’s reading from Psalm 85:10-13, the poet describes the divine forces of love, faithfulness, righteousness, and peace all reaching out for one another from every which way, meeting in a surprising collision that results in the healing of the land and paves the way for the arrival of the Messiah…
At the Ancaster Fair this past Fall I walked past one of those crazy mirrors that distorts everything. Among several ways it changed reality was to make me look thirty pounds lighter. I liked that. But it also made me five feet taller and distorted my body to look like a wavy spaghetti noodle incapable of existence…
I find the Christmas season is hard to untangle as a pastor, as a mom, and really just as a person. So many of our cultural customs have faith stories conflated with consumerism. I love how Christmas lights interrupt the darkness of our shortest days…
Perhaps after reading today’s lectionary, you were like me: uncertain of how to frame your thoughts and reflections in a way that would encompass compassion, hope, generosity, and love, considering the current political climate…
One of our farm chores that often falls to me is closing the animals up at night. As I wrap up my work and shut down my computer, the brightness of its screen gives way to my dark walk out under the stars to close up the chicken coop and ensure all of our animals have what they need for the night…
Welcome to the sixth annual New Leaf Advent Reader. I am so excited to share this collection of reflections with you! In 2018, when we put out our first set of daily reflections, I felt like I was leveraging the whole network to find people willing to write a reflection for this unknown project…
Explore last year’s Advent Reader:
We have arrived at the end of this year’s Advent journey. We appreciated your joining with us as we navigated the Known and Unknowns of our Advent experiences. Even as the lectionary readings move from the apocalyptic and mysterious to the familiar Christmas narrative, there are still mysteries that linger…
As you read this, there's a good chance I'm currently trudging through boot-high snow with my arms weighed down by wrapped packages and Christmas treats. I'll also likely be shivering and complaining about the cold wind lifting the hairs on my neck. I'll be putting on a brave face, mustering up some deep courage, and tilting my head back every so slightly so my salty tears go back from where they came…
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…
Over the last few years I've been learning how to form, shape, and work with clay. Immediately after reading the passages that were assigned to me, I sat down at the wheel. Some of you may know nothing about working with clay, and that’s totally fine, but for me, this is one of the times that my brain is actually quiet…
Linger in the final moments of this season's Advent journey with a deep breath...and exhale. Pause this morning, noon, or evening to listen intently to the way your body feels in this moment. What do you sense? Smell? Hear? Feel? How are you holding the Christmas hustle? The seasonal blues? The pandemic woes? Exhale. Exhale a deep breath as it disappears into a frigid Canadian winter's eve…
Growing up, I had all kinds of expectations about what my life would look like at certain ages and stages. I remember going to university to major in psychology and minor in music. As time went on in my studies, it became evident that my real love was music, and I graduated with a music major and a psychology minor. Not exactly what I had planned for…
“Let’s rule out cancer,” echoed in my head as I sat in the waiting room. I had just left my OB-GYN’s office with instructions to get a blood test and an ultrasound. What had started out as a month of spotting (not unusual for me) led to a second month of heavy to excessive bleeding. I’d never been so scared in my life as my mind raced with what-if scenarios about surgery and chemotherapy…
This day has been dark and gloomy. My window was enveloped in fog when I got up this morning. I could barely see the building next door. For some of us, this would have been a depressing day. But as I prayed and looked intently into the blanket of fog, I saw a vision of a little girl grabbing onto the right hand of Jesus…
He’s usually in the background. If the kids in your church are putting on a nativity play, it’s one of the minor roles. He might lead the donkey; maybe he asks the innkeeper a question or two, but he’s a supporting character at best. This guy is never front and centre in the Christmas story. Most of the time, it seems like he’s just along for the ride…
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…
Family gathering is a gift and something that I have taken for granted. Although much of my extended family lives in Toronto, we have not seen one another in almost three years. Both the restrictions and our cautious COVID practice meant our gatherings have been mostly virtual and not with the whole entirety of the family…
In Psalm 80, we meet a nation that is grieving, as the text in its original writing seems to be referring to the conquering of Israel, and later editors reflect the “pending devastation” of Judah. Jason Byassee, in Working Preacher, notes, “…these twin bookends of Israel’s misery are the points of origin for a Psalm seeking salvation…”
Tis the season of endearing but innocuous Christmas pageants where the Christmas story is bubble-wrapped in the most adorable tea-towelled shepherds, bath-robed wisemen, cherub-like angels belting out their off-key alleluias, and an altogether undisturbing baby Jesus, meek and mild…
In my short life so far, I have faced many seasons and situations that have looked a lot like what you might call “dead ends.” Dead ends to previously comfortable ways of thinking, physical and mental health, vocational pursuits, and relationships. I have faced dead ends in areas of my life that at one point I would have boldly said God had led me to, perhaps even ordained. Likely, similar to you…
This year's Advent Reader theme is Known and Unknown: Dwelling in the Mystery of Advent.
The lectionary reading for today includes Psalm 42, which, in my opinion, contains a lot of unknowns. Ah, good ol' Psalm 42. If you're older (like me), then the first line is bound to bring to mind the 1984 worship song titled "As the Deer." If you know this popular Christian chorus, I bet you're humming the tune as you read…
Ah! The third week of Advent. The week of Joy! We light the rose candle on Sunday, signifying the joyous anticipation of the Lord’s coming. The rose candle is sometimes called the Shepherds’ Candle to remind us that the good news of great joy was first announced to common people. Common people! Not the rich, not the elite, not the royal, not the fittest and greatest among us, but people that don’t usually draw attention…
Rich in majesty and mystery Mary’s Magnificat is written like a poetic doxology. A hymn of praise, it begins individually and ends communally as it spotlights God’s mercy and might, God’s holiness, and saving help. Singing it reminds us of who God is. Reminds us that God sees us. Helps us to see each other…
Richard Wagamese, in his novel A Quality of Light, has a white father say to his adopted Indigenous son, “You’ve got all the chapters and verses. The only thing you don’t understand is the begats. And believe me, son, no one ever reads the begats.” But that’s not true. Wagamese’s story reveals that the son did need to understand his “begats.” He needed to know the stories and details about where he came from…
Slowly, hesitatingly, the bunny ears come together. With a look of intense concentration, one loop passes over the other and then under. We should have been out the door ten minutes ago, but in this moment only one thing matters – tying her own shoes…
Recently, the realities of living in the unknown and starting something new have just felt a bit heavy. Thankfully, a friend of mine reminded me of some things I had forgotten and a few truths I simply didn’t know how to apply in this new environment in this new land I inhabit. I said to him that “someone should write this stuff down and put a warning label on it, haha.” That pretty much describes the Bible, doesn’t it?
At the mid-way point in the pandemic unveiling (or nightmare, if you prefer), I had nearly convinced myself that the Christian faith was no longer for me. You remember this time, I’m sure. We had all stopped cheering for healthcare workers, and winter was setting in, so we didn’t even have daylight after work anymore to remind us that life might still be worth the effort…
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 don’t want to dwell in the mystery of Advent. I don’t want to dwell in the mystery of anything. I am tired of the uncertainty. I am very aware of my likeness to withering grass and fading flowers (Isa. 40:6-7), and I am very, very tired. What I want is assurance. I just want those green pastures and still waters of Psalm 23.
I’m not a natural waiter.
I don’t mean the waiter that tends restaurant tables. I’ve spent plenty of time working those jobs to be proficient. I’m not great as someone waiting for their longings to be answered…
I was spending too much time on Twitter the other day. I should have known better.
Sure enough, in my scrolling I came across a clip of a Christian at a political rally in a southern state in the United States praying, "Lord I pray, in the name of Jesus, that you would allow conservatives to win ... I pray that Christians turn out all over *the State* and that we vote for the person most like you, Lord. And I believe that is *name* of the politician." The prayer concluded with applause…
What image does the word “mystery” conjure up for you? For me, it ranges from a wonderful novel that draws me into the unknown to the breathtaking night skies I experienced when camping in the summer to the terrifying moments I had in the hospital. The element of mystery is an odd mix of fun and dread…
This week marks the start of the Advent season, to which I say, “Bring on the Christmas carols, cards, and gifts; twinkle lights, sugar cookies, and peppermint hot chocolate; put on your fuzzy pyjamas; play festive movies; and put up your Christmas tree with me!” To some, this might not seem like a sincere, faithful response anticipating Christ’s birth…
One of the enduring mysteries, not only of Advent but of the entire premise that God is intimately invested in the wellbeing of the cosmos, is the blurring of lines between creator and creation, between sovereignty and submission, between strength and weakness, between inception and completion…
I have been learning that in life, there are many uncertain roads to walk. Uncertainty seems to be more prevalent now, as many of us face global pandemic uncertainties alongside all the other existing ones…