 Sisters and brothers, grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen. The world of the Scriptures is full of spirits. Some are evil, some may be ambivalent, but they are all over and they are busy. Into this spiritually-charged world comes God’s Holy Spirit, to engage with, cast out, and destroy the evil spirits. To plant faith. To empower believers to do good works. To give gifts of perseverance, hope, and charity. Today we hear the story of creation, when the Spirit from God hovers over the waters. If you grew up with the older translations, you might have heard that the Spirit “brooded” over the waters (don’t listen to our wimpy translators who insist on calling it “wind”). We hear the story of the baptism of Our Lord in the Jordan River, when he sees the sky opened and the Spirit descending on him. And we hear the story of some of John the Baptist’s followers who have received the baptism of repentance but not the indwelling of God’s Spirit. Paul baptizes them and they speak with tongues of fire. The Holy Spirit gives order to primal chaos. The Holy Spirit anoints the Christ. The Holy Spirit takes hold of believers, casting out the evil spirits that have battled for their souls, and turning them to the true God. On Friday I found myself reading a story about the woman from San Diego who was shot and killed by Capitol Police as she attempted with the large crowd to occupy the capitol and overturn the election. As is so often the case these days, much of her story was committed to social media. She journaled her transition from someone who had more or less normal beliefs about the world into someone completely captivated by the mass delusion that’s become known as QAnon. It was very strange to me. I try to keep my distance from Facebook and the sites where this kind of delusion takes hold. But still we can see it happening around us. We probably all know people who’ve gradually allowed their minds to be taken over by conspiracy theories, brainworms, factually incorrect views that are never questioned or challenged within the online communities they find or make for themselves. Captivated. Perhaps literally: taken captive. And while the whole spectacle on Wednesday left me feeling very anxious and angry, I ended up feeling something like pity for this woman who had died in a reckless attempt to overthrow the government under which both she and I are citizens. I find it hard to acknowledge this, as the actions of people like her led to the killing of a Capitol Police officer and the deaths of three other people. And there should be no such pity for the politicians and media figures who have encouraged this delusion and this recklessness, who know very well that the last election was not stolen and do not think the vice president of the United States is a traitor who should be executed on the capitol lawn, as many of these protesters were chanting on Wednesday. They just found it convenient to make use of people like the woman who was killed. The truth is that we can’t be deluded or captivated like this without our own consent and participation. But evil spirits make the most of any opportunity they get. And it can be a very short trip from that first unhealthy fascination to becoming completely chained. It is frightening. This is the soil in which terrible destruction can grow. That’s the point of it, from the demons' point of view. And it’s worth remembering that we’ve lost democracy in America before, in the 1870s. Democratically-elected state and local governments all over the southern United States were attacked, sometimes by nothing more than a few angry people who were able to raise an armed mob. They were not caught or punished, their actions inspired others, and pretty soon our brief experiment in universal male suffrage was over. It took almost 90 years to bring it back. And we can lose it again. Nothing to it. The Church of Jesus has been through everything, and has endured and even flourished under every kind of government. But the promise of democracy--the idea that we all get to speak and vote with an equal voice--from a Christian point of view, is that it requires all of us to be citizens. It reflects the full humanity for which Jesus Christ shed his blood. It denies that fullness to no one. It requires us to want good things for each other, even when we disagree. It requires us to be responsible for each other, even when we imagine we have the power to destroy each other. It requires us to accept that sometimes we will lose and sometimes we will win, and it requires us to accept that both our wins and losses will come with limits that we all respect for our sake and for each others’. Without that, it will all be over, sooner or later. Democracy is not about specific institutions of government. At heart it’s about our relationship with each other. And if that relationship lacks charity, lacks responsibility, lacks prudence, it will fall apart. This is why we pray for the gift of the Holy Spirit--to do battle with the powers of hatred and madness and destruction that will crowd in wherever we give them space. To vanquish and expel them. To give us the power to believe, and to hope, and to love, and to resist the voices of violence that surround us. And we are probably not aware of how, daily, the grace, and indulgence, and strength of God sustains us and keeps us from falling into so much worse. When we baptize a new believer, we lay our hands on their head, and we pray “GIve to [this person] the gift of your Holy Spirit: the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might, the Spirit of knowledge and fear of the Lord, the Spirit of joy at your presence.” We repeat these words at confirmation. Luther’s version of the baptism ritual has the priest saying over the one being baptized, “Depart O unclean spirit and give way to the Holy Spirit.” Over the gifts on the altar we pray “send your Holy Spirit upon these gifts.” Because we need the Holy Spirit to do anything pleasing to God. Every day that gift must come to us anew. It must lift us up from the powers that would consume us. It must equip us to do what we cannot do on our own. It must fight the battles we cannot win without it. Because it is a constant struggle. We see that with horrible clarity when the seat of our elected government is overrun with people bent on destroying it. And it was only a matter of a minute or two between what happened and something much, much worse. This power must not reign in our hearts. The Holy Spirit must reign instead. We can argue, we can disagree, we can have different interests that create inevitable conflict. But we must not give ourselves over to destruction. So we pray for the coming of that true, good, and Holy Spirit. We pray that it may guide us, keep us safe, and bind us together in love. Jesus came down to the Jordan with the crowd, unknown even to John the Baptist in this version of the story, to be baptized with this great mass of totally ordinary people from all Judea and Jerusalem--he came down, the one who brought forth the waters on the earth, who set the stars in their courses, who formed creation and lowered himself into the water, into his water, and was baptized in his ordinary humanity. God coming down to humanity, so that humanity could be lifted up to God. And heaven opened, and something new appeared and a new age began: that is the coming of the Holy Spirit in the ministry of Jesus and in our own life as believers. May it be so for us, as we seek to love and serve this world that is under such constant threat and in need of such generous love. Amen.  Sisters and brothers, grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
We are gathered today in the last embers of the Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Twenty, two hundred and two decades (more or less) since the birth of Jesus Christ. It is a year we will struggle both to remember clearly and to forget cleanly. There has been so much death and so much suffering, beyond the death and suffering which is our lot as children of Adam and Eve in any year. There has been so much disruption and frustration, beyond the disruption and frustration we impose on ourselves in any year. If we are healthy, housed, and employed, we may count ourselves blessed even more than we might in any year. If we have kept our household or family together, done useful work, or made a contribution to the greater good, we might well take some comfort in that, beyond the comfort we might take in greater accomplishments in another year. I have had to tell myself all of this, over and over again. Church kept going, thanks be to God. The preaching of the Gospel continued week in and week out, sermons and devotions and articles for the newspaper and newsletter pouring forth as fast as I could do it and surely that should count for something in the scheme of things. And it does not work. Rome was not yet at the peak of its power when Jesus was born in an insignificant town in a provincial backwater of its empire. And yet by the Year of Our Lord Four Hundred and Seventy-Six, it was in ruins. Despite everyone working hard and doing their best through plague and conflict and war and bad harvests. It has never ended--plague and conflict and war and bad harvests, mass migration and desecrated environments and chaotic inequality--and we have never been equal to it. Perhaps you have felt this insufficiency in a year of lonely labor. Who among us has handled online school as well as we think we should? Who has seized the ambivalent opportunities of a crisis? Who kept family game night going more than three weeks? And would it have mattered if we had? Each moment, each encounter is infinitely important. And what is a year but a parade of infinitely important moments, one after another through a decade and a century and a millennium and all the two-thousand and twenty Years of Our Lord from that night in the manger down until this day. It is the same world into which Jesus was born. It is the same sky above us, the same slowly shifting human genome within us, the same relentless timeline around us. We breathe his air. We walk his earth. We die his death. “In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night.” I think a lot about those shepherds every year. What was their life like? Very hard, I imagine, by our standards. There was no retirement plan. There was no real career advancement. No vaccines. They weren’t citizens of any kingdom but God’s. Weather and viruses and the boots of the tramping warriors marched over them without a thought. On the other hand they probably didn’t have annual growth targets to meet. They could safely assume that their rulers, whoever they were, would be pretty bad. They never had to live through, let alone participate in, the most important election of their lifetimes every four years. They lived and died in a world that took no note of them. They were not the heroes of anyone’s story. And the messenger from God comes to them. They were terrified. Of course they were terrified. On what grounds could they expect anything good from heaven or earth? But the messenger tells them not to fear. A Savior has been born to them this night in the city of David, the Messiah, the Lord. A child wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. The sky opens and the whole heavenly host appears to them, the shepherds, proclaiming peace and good will on earth. The earth where they scraped out their little living year by year until they died. So they go with haste to see their Messiah. They find him, wrapped up and lying in the manger, with his mother and Joseph. It is the most ordinary thing in the world. And yet it is a miracle. They rejoice and praise God. The shepherds counted for little in the eyes of the world. Their names are not even preserved in the Gospel. But they were enough. They were enough for God to come to. The world was and is wracked with sin and death and violence and injustice. But the world is enough for God to come to, in all its fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains. You and I, for all our inadequacies and failures, all our griefs and sorrows and anger this year and every year, are enough for God to consecrate with his gracious appearance among us. If you were the only human being ever born into sin and in need of redemption, all of this would have happened just for you. God would have done it all for each and every one of us. God would have sanctified this world with the light of his Incarnation for you. God would have bent down from the heavenly sanctuary to crush hell under his infant foot and call forth the joy of these shepherds for one solitary soul. And those shepherds would have gladly given their praise, and that mother would have borne her child, and that foster father would have protected them both, and that manger would have been filled with the quiet power of God for you because you, right now at the end of the Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Twenty, are enough to save. “Mild he lays his glory by,” the hymn says. “Born that we no more may die. Born to raise each child of earth. Born to give us second birth.” This is the gift of God for you this night: the Messiah, the Lord. Amen.  Read:
Psalm 96 Zephaniah 3: 14-20 Romans 13: 11-14 Reflect: As my Bible notes, Psalm 96 is all about ‘exhortations to praise’. My favorite lines are in the twelfth verse: ‘Let the field be joyful…then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice before the Lord…’. It makes me wonder how all the trees along the Katy Trail, or all the trees on Mount Penn in my native state of Pennsylvania, would rejoice? Would they turn the most vivid assorted colors of autumn, all at once? Would their limbs be dusted with sparkling snow? After all, they are all Christmas trees. ‘Sing unto the Lord, bless His name…’. We do that every time we sing a Christmas carol, sing a hymn or sing to a child. When we sing, we give unto the Lord praise, glory and strength. He comes to judge the world with righteousness, and the people with his truth. The verses from Zephaniah also instruct us to sing, be glad and rejoice because the Lord is in the midst of us. God will gather the sorrowful and will end all that makes them sad, and will…’get them praise and fame in every land where they have been put to shame’. God will turn their captivity before their eyes. God’s presence may surprise people, and the prophets share grave warnings for those who are complacent and unaware of His importance and presence in their daily lives. We should ask ourselves: Do our actions match our faith commitments? Are we ready for God to live among us? In the passage from Romans, Paul tells us it is time to awake out of sleep, for ‘…now is our salvation, nearer than we believed’. Let us cast off darkness because ‘ the day is at hand’. God urges us to walk ‘…honestly, not in rioting and drunkenness…not in strife and envying. Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ.’ Pray: Referring to Psalm 96, verses 12-13, draw your idea of ‘all the trees of the wood…’ rejoicing. Use crayons, colored pencils, paints, Magic Markers to make your trees as colorful and festive as possible. If you’re using a pen or pencil, cut some colorful images out of magazines or newspapers to paste on the tops of your trees. Do your trees look joyful? Do they make you want to rejoice, too? Barbara Bierman Read:
Psalm 96 Zephaniah 3:8-13 Romans 10:5-13 “Then they will pasture and lie down, and no one shall make them afraid.” (Zephaniah 3:13) Recently as I was driving, the Bach cantata “Sheep May Safely Graze” came on the radio (I like to listen to WRR, especially while I’m driving and liable to get temperamental). I was brought back to the day of my installation as Christ Lutheran Church’s pastor in November, 2019. Suzanne Dunkelberg sang, and Hando Nahkur played, that piece at my request. I assumed Bach was working on a Biblical reference but apparently he wasn’t; it was a secular lyric, representing pagan stories. But that’s fine, because what I’ve always wanted church to be is a place of safety, where Christ’s flock might be free and at peace. “No one shall make them afraid” is such a simple, basic, and yet beautiful promise. Just to be able to enjoy the fact of existing, as a loved and protected sheep of God’s fold, is a bliss greater than anything wealth or power offers us. As we move to the days of the celebration of Christ’s birth, consider the feeling and experience of safety. Where and when have you felt it? How have you contributed (or not) to that feeling for others? Pray: Today’s O Antiphon O come O King of nations, come O Cornerstone that binds in one: Refresh the hearts that long for you; Restore the broken, make us new. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel Our Father, who art in heaven... Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit; as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen. Pastor Ben Dueholm  Read:
Luke 1:6b-55 1 Samuel 1:1-18 Hebrews 9:1-14 Reflect: On these days leading up to the festival of the Nativity of Our Lord, the church has for many centuries sung the so-called “Great O Antiphons” at daily prayer. We know these antiphons now primarily as the Advent hymn “O Come O Come Emmanuel.” It is a long hymn and maybe a little slow and gloomy-sounding to modern ears, but it is widely loved all the same. Here is the verse for today: O come, O Dayspring, come and cheer; O Sun of justice, now draw near Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, And death’s dark shadow put to flight. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel Spend some time today with this image of Dayspring, which comes from the Old Testament and is echoed in Luke’s Gospel (“the dawn from on high shall break upon us”). “Sun of justice” is another prophetic image that we hear again in the powerful, and theologically profound, Christmas hymn “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing”: Hail the heav’n born Prince of Peace Hail the Sun of Righteousness Light and life to all he brings Ris’n with healing in his wings Mild he lays his glory by Born that we no more may die Born to raise each child of earth Born to give us second birth Hark! The herald angels sing Glory to the new-born king Pray: for good cheer, light, life, and healing; for the worship of the whole church around the world this week; for all preparing for baptism; for a joyous and reverent Christmas. Our Father, who art in heaven... Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit; as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen. Pastor Ben Dueholm Lighting the Advent Wreath: Fourth Week Leader: Blessed are you, God of hosts, for you promised to send a son, Emmanuel, who brought your presence among us; and you promise through your Son Jesus to save us from our sin. As we light these candles, turn again to us in mercy; strengthen our faith in the word spoken by your prophets; restore us and give us life that we may be saved. O house of David, come, All: let us rejoice, for the Son of God, Emmanuel, comes to be with us. Amen. The Art and Imagery of Advent Read: 2 Samuel 7:10-16 Psalm 89:14, 19-26 Romans 16:25-27 Luke 1:26-38 Reflect: “Therefore, the child to be born will be holy: he will be called Son of God.” How do we capture the thoughts and feelings of Mary as she considers the news that the angel announced to her that night? Every imaginable artistic expression throughout the centuries has attempted to help us understand the miracle of this birth. The nine-month wait for a mother and father is excitement enough but to be told this would be no ordinary child. You are invited to contemplate the impact of Mary’s story through music. Joan Copeland  Read:
Psalm 89 2 Samuel 6: 12-19 Hebrews 1: 5-14 Reflect: Psalm 89 was not easy for me to follow. If you feel the same way, it may help to remember that there may have been as many as three different psalmists contributing to its writing over a span of many years. The first part of the psalm was probably written by Ethan the Ezrahite, one of David’s singers. The first several verses tell us how great God is. We hear the praises of God sung by Ethan: ‘I will sing the mercies of the Lord forever. I have made a covenant with my chosen, and I will tell my children and my grandchildren that You will do as You have promised.’ God made a very significant promise: that someone of David’s lineage will always be King. Then Ethan sings about God’s power: ‘He calms the seas and tides; He obliterates his enemies. Strength is your hand, mighty is your right hand’ (Jesus, of course, who sits at the right hand of God the Father). God anoints David, who says to him, ‘Thou art my father, my rock and the rock of my salvation’. And God promises that David’s seed will endure forever. I didn’t know what the word ‘selah’ meant before I researched this psalm. Do you know? It means when you encounter a situation of uncertain meaning, rest, stop for a minute and pray, or listen to music. It’s a good idea to do exactly that whenever the tone of Psalm 89 changes abruptly, as it does around verse 30. God says if the children of David forsake his law and walk not in his judgments, or break his commandments or cast his crown down to the earth, then they have set up the right hand of their enemies who rejoice in their defeat. The psalmist asks, ‘How long, Lord, wilt Thou hide thyself forever?’ He reminds God that his own time upon earth is short and asks, ‘Where are the former loving kindnesses which thou swearest unto David in thy truth?’. In verse 33, God emphasizes that He will not withhold His loving kindnesses from David’s people, nor suffer His faithfulness to fail them. The psalm ends with these words: ‘Blessed be the Lord for evermore. Amen and Amen.’ In the reading from Second Samuel, David brings the ark into Jerusalem with gladness, and sets it in the middle of the tabernacle that he had pitched for it. And ‘David danced before the Lord with all his might’. He then gave offerings and blessed the people in the name of the Lord. Food and drink were given to all. But Michal, daughter of Saul, reproved David for dancing and showing himself before the Lord. David’s reply: that God had appointed him ruler of the people of the Lord, so he would play before the Lord. The dominant tone here is one of celebration and joy. In moving the ark, David has taken over a city that was not part of any tribe. Jerusalem can literally be called ‘the city of David’. David is not a perfect human being: sometimes good, sometimes self-serving. In establishing the city of David, he shows political awareness and the power of manipulation which are often evident in strong leaders of nations. The reading from Hebrews reminds us that in the beginning, God made the heavens and the earth, and they will erode, distort and disappear over time. But the Son of God will remain. He is the same. When God speaks through this Son, we are affected, we are changed. God actually brings about His purposes for us through this word, this Son. In and through His life and death, He purifies sin. Having accomplished this cleansing for us, He ascends back to the Father and sits at his right hand as the glorified incarnate Son. Pray: Practice ‘selah’ when you find yourself in a moment of confusion, despair or frustration. Go somewhere quiet. Meditate for a short while, try to completely clear your mind. Put your worries to one side and lay yourself open to God’s calmness. Know that He feels your concerns, and wants you to know and believe that He is with you always. Barbara Bierman  Read:
Psalm 89 2 Samuel 6:1-11 Hebrews 1:1-4 Reflect: In the first reading above, David wants to bring the ark of God to the Israelites. He orders the ark to be put in a brand new, racy cart driven by the sons of Abinadab. Everyone celebrates wildly, playing all kinds of musical instruments. Yes, David crafted a great extravaganza, but he did not heed God’s wishes: the ark was not carried on human shoulders. David acted impulsively, and he did not ask God what He wanted. The Israelites didn’t need new distractions- they needed new passions. As we find ourselves amidst a pandemic that shows no sign of abating anytime soon, I think many of us want to react against the rules, limits and restrictions that have held us captive for eight months. So we may want to go all out to plan a big Christmas celebration. Hey, let’s put up the biggest tree ever, with the most elaborate lights and decorations we can find! Let’s prepare a huge banquet to make up for all the deprivations of the last few months! We deserve it! Think for a moment about those over-the-top man-made plans. Then think about some of the past Christmases that you have celebrated alone or with others. Which moments seem really special and have stayed with you? I remember sharing a hymnbook with my father in a Houston church and singing ‘Away in a Manger’. It was such a peaceful moment and I felt so calm. A friend just finished scanning over 10 years of childhood photos of her and her brother, many taken at Christmas. She says it made her feel like a child at Christmas again: safe, excited, anticipating new adventures. One point this scripture reading makes is that big holiday splurges alone will not make up for our drastically curtailed lives. David asks, “How shall the ark of the Lord come to me?”, and then delivers the ark as requested, carried on his own shoulders. And when David obeyed God’s wishes and respected His holiness, blessings followed. Try this exercise. Make a list of your most unforgettable Christmas moments. You’ll probably see that very few of them mention fabulous gifts, showy decorations or delicious meals. I’ll guess that just as mine did, most of your treasured moments involve cherished family members and close friends. This may not be the year that we get to see and visit with all those dear people, but we’ll see them again for Christmas. Just as we wait eagerly to see those we love most, we rejoice to see Jesus yet again at Christmas. The reading from Hebrews tells us that God’s message to mankind, His great gift to us, is now given through Jesus, he who is above, beyond and far more than all the angels in heaven. Barbara Bierman  Read:
Psalm 125 Malachi 3:16-4:6 Mark 9:9-13 Reflect: “Those who revered the Lord and thought on his name.” Recently there has been a reawakening to one of human nature’s gifts - mindfulness. It is the basic human ability to be fully present, aware of where we are and what we’re doing, and not overly reactive or overwhelmed by what is going on around us. It is a quality that every human being already possesses, it’s not something you have to conjure up, you just have to learn how to access it. Philosophical individuals have spoken about it for centuries. Osho Ranjeesh, an Indian mystic of the 20th century, “The real question is not whether life exists after death. The real question is whether you are alive before death.” Franz Kafka, Bohemian novelist (1883-1924), “You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.” Blaise Pascal, French philosopher (1623-1662), “All men’s miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone.” To focus on the present may seem odd during a time of waiting for something that will happen in the future. Advent is all about the coming of Jesus and we are eager for Christmas to get here. Course, once December 25th arrives, the commercial Christmas that has been with us since Halloween goes out on the curb with the tree. But for us, these days leading up to December 25th are a time of personal preparation so that we will know him when he is right there in front of us. Malachi 3:16 speaks of those who revered the Lord and thought on his name. Then they spoke with one another and the Lord took note and listened. When we think about it, God’s name in Hebrew is from the core root “to be.” We aren’t satisfied with infinitives and try different ways of saying it in English such as, “I am that I am.” But in essence, God is the very heart of what it means to exist. Life emanates from that core. Everything emanates from God. So, to sit alone or in a small intentional group and think about God’s “name” as Malachi suggests and consider all the expressions of life and being that exist in this world, we will come closer and closer to sensing God’s presence with us. So that when Jesus comes again, we will simply know it in the core of our being. Joan Copeland  Read:
Matthew 2.7-12 Reflect: The magi of Matthew’s Gospel, hailing from “the east” (2.1b), are foreigners who have studied the heavens and have now been divinely led into Jerusalem in search of a newborn king whose power is such that it compels them to offer their worship (2.3). It is here in 2.7-12 where the star from 2.2 reappears to them, as it “went on ahead of them” (2.9a). This is not the first time that the God of Israel has led a traveling people by means of a heavenly light. The people of Israel, upon being freed from slavery under the tyrannical rule of Pharaoh in Egypt, are led by God through the wilderness and into the land of promise, as He “went on ahead of them in a pillar of fire by night to give them light” (Ex. 13.21). The star-light from heaven leads the magi directly to the house of Jesus in Bethlehem, “stopping over the place where the child was to be found” (2.9b). Having guided them in this way, the star’s presence is cause for celebration among the magi, as when literally translated, their response is overwhelming- “they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy” (2.10). The star’s presence is a unique and dramatic presentation of the vast reach of Israel’s God’s power, as surely “the heavens tell of the glory of God, the firmament declares His handiwork” (Ps. 19.1). But lest we overlook it, the star is also a quiet and discreet display of deliverance from God. For instance, the magi could surely be led to the child by the inhabitants of Bethlehem without the assistance of the star, as they have been given authority and license to search for the child from Herod (2.8). As foreigners entering the city on a mission from the king, their presence alone could command acquiescence from the people. This, coupled with the convening of a search party, would call attention and fanfare from those in the area who have been primed for Israelite liberation at the announcement of a newborn king. But God keeps this from happening. The sheer might of Israel’s God having manifested His power by means of a heavenly light should not be downplayed, yet it cannot be ignored that the star itself has not brought forth the masses from the community. It instead beams downward to the house of the king, quietly guiding the magi. They do not rely on the inhabitants of Bethlehem to lead them to Jesus, nor do they arrive at his home with any faction of Israelite hopefuls, armed and ready to assemble a brigade and begin a resistance. Rather, they enter the house and find Jesus with his mother, Mary. In their joy, they “fell down and worshiped him” (2.11a). The reign of this one “son of David”, the king whom the magi have come to worship, is the product of an unexpected beginning, hidden quietly within the mundane life of this Israelite community. When reading the Bible, many of us have been taught to focus solely on the miraculous at the expense of the mundane. Yet here at the beginning of the story of “the Messiah” (1.1) Matthew’s Gospel presents us with something we often unintentionally ignore. Jesus’ story here invites us to come face-to-face with how Israel’s God has chosen to reveal Himself within the unexpected. As Advent season continues, let us prayerfully ask God to “go on ahead of us”, guiding our paths and giving us eyes to see that which we would otherwise choose to ignore, be it a neighbor, a stranger, or even the newborn king himself. In His mercy, He will. Marcus Hatcher |
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