Second Thursday of Advent

Scripture Reading for Today:

Psalm 126; Isaiah 35:3-7; Luke 7:18-30

Psalm 126

A song of ascents.

1 When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed. 2 Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.” 3 The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy. 4 Restore our fortunes, Lord, like streams in the Negev. 5 Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy. 6 Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.

Isaiah 35:3-7

3 Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; 4 say to those with fearful hearts, “Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you.” 5 Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. 6 Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy. Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert. 7 The burning sand will become a pool, the thirsty ground bubbling springs. In the haunts where jackals once lay, grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.

Luke 7:18-30

18 John’s disciples told him about all these things. Calling two of them, 19 he sent them to the Lord to ask, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” 20 When the men came to Jesus, they said, “John the Baptist sent us to you to ask, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?’” 21 At that very time Jesus cured many who had diseases, sicknesses and evil spirits, and gave sight to many who were blind. 22 So he replied to the messengers, “Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. 23 Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.” 24 After John’s messengers left, Jesus began to speak to the crowd about John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed swayed by the wind? 25 If not, what did you go out to see? A man dressed in fine clothes? No, those who wear expensive clothes and indulge in luxury are in palaces. 26 But what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. 27 This is the one about whom it is written: “‘I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.’ 28 I tell you, among those born of women there is no one greater than John; yet the one who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.” 29 (All the people, even the tax collectors, when they heard Jesus’ words, acknowledged that God’s way was right, because they had been baptized by John. 30 But the Pharisees and the experts in the law rejected God’s purpose for themselves, because they had not been baptized by John.)

NIV

Hope Sneaks In

by Elle Pyke

---

---

Christmas records appear in heavy rotation when the calendar hits December 1st at my house. I can't help it; I'm just a sentimental fool for Christmas music. I have some well-worn favourites, but my most cherished cuts will always be the jazzy classics. Give me Bing Crosby and Carol Richards crooning out "Silverbells," and I'm already imagining decking the halls of my house with garland and lights. I quickly drift away, dreaming of a full house, a full calendar, and, classic me, a rushed and sped-up Christmas. I was amused the first time I listened to Silverbells this season and caught the lyrics afresh: 

"Busy sidewalks" 
"Shoppers rush" 
"Children rush" 
"Above all the bustle" 

Geez, Bing and Carol, it sounds like you were hustling back then, too! 

Every Advent season, we're invited into sacred timekeeping—one that slows down, savours, anticipates, and awaits. Perhaps, dear reader, you suffer from the same affliction as I do: slowing down isn't easy. I'm much more at ease giving into the slipstream of the busy and the rushed. I can sink into hurried rhythms like a well-worn chair. I've discovered that slowing down is a holy practice. One for me that requires discipline, focus and intention. Slowing down also means I can no longer play hide and seek with my emotions. When I slow down, all the emotions I try to outpace come knocking at my door. First in line is always grief. 

It's been my most profound privilege and honour to sit with many "Undone" pastors, ministry leaders, and theology professors this year as they wrestle with the grief that has come knocking. We light candles, we break bread, sometimes we cry. Whether it's the loss of their denominational affiliation, their innocence about religious institutions, or their hope for a different outcome, the weeping has been undeniable. I've had a front-row seat as they've been forced to unwrap a more complex picture of faith. They've had to find Jesus amidst more complexity than ever imagined. They've had to grieve and shake off some old wineskins. Perhaps in your own way, you can relate.

In today's text, the Psalmist offers us bountiful language of restored fortunes, shouts of joy and mouths full of laughter. But as I slow down and let these words work in my soul, these verses remind me that something had to be broken for something to be restored. For something to be quenched, something once had been dry. Ignoring the psalm's distinctive combination of sorrow and joy is impossible. There is a radical reversal in the making, but first, there was a mourning.

It's been my experience that the Spirit works in flesh, time and together in community. If we slow down enough to acknowledge our grief out loud, before Jesus and before the beloved community, there's often a holy moment when a crack opens just enough for hope to sneak on in. Just when we think our hope is spent and out of gas, Advent offers us a picture of what this restoration can look like — a grand reversal of our grief and fortunes. Found not amongst the powerful, the put together or the palace, but in a lowly stable, with a newborn baby.

This slow and longing wait for the Messiah through Advent mimics our slow, longing wait for Christ to come again. Jesus wasn't born into a beautiful Christmas scene wrapped in a snow globe. He was born into the world that was. We now invite the Spirit of the risen Christ into this "now and not yet" moment of waiting again for the holy mystery of Messiah's return into our world that is.

If you've sown in tears this year, as you slow down this season, may you reap with songs of joy. If you went out weeping this year, goodness me, it's my earnest prayer that you return with some songs of joy; that you may find a Spirit-filled reversal waiting at your front door. 

 As Bing and Carol remind us, "Soon it'll be Christmas day," and we need not rush to the party. Advent in its wisdom, teaching us again, because of this long-awaited Messiah, we have confidence that our waiting is not in vain.

---

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

And please share this reflection with your friends and family who might also enjoy it.

---

Explore the year’s Advent Reader posts:

Explore last year’s Advent Reader: