First Saturday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
Isaiah 40:1-11
Comfort, 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.
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.
John 1:19-28
19 Now this was John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to ask him who he was. 20 He did not fail to confess, but confessed freely, “I am not the Messiah.” 21 They asked him, “Then who are you? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the Prophet?” He answered, “No.” 22 Finally they said, “Who are you? Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” 23 John replied in the words of Isaiah the prophet, “I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way for the Lord.’” 24 Now the Pharisees who had been sent 25 questioned him, “Why then do you baptize if you are not the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?” 26 “I baptize with water,” John replied, “but among you stands one you do not know. 27 He is the one who comes after me, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie.” 28 This all happened at Bethany on the other side of the Jordan, where John was baptizing.
Acts 1:21-26
21 Therefore it is necessary to choose one of the men who have been with us the whole time the Lord Jesus was living among us, 22 beginning from John’s baptism to the time when Jesus was taken up from us. For one of these must become a witness with us of his resurrection.” 23 So they nominated two men: Joseph called Barsabbas (also known as Justus) and Matthias. 24 Then they prayed, “Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which of these two you have chosen 25 to take over this apostolic ministry, which Judas left to go where he belongs.” 26 Then they cast lots, and the lot fell to Matthias; so he was added to the eleven apostles.
In Greener Pastures
by Robin Ingham
Robin Ingham is an Environmental Scientist and recent graduate (Fall 2022) of the MDiv Church in the City program at Tyndale University. She lives with her husband and sons in rural Gravenhurst, Ontario, where she works daily to reconnect with her Métis ancestry, study the Bible in its original languages, and listen for how the Holy Spirit can use a theology of the land to bring harmony/shalom to broken First Peoples and settlers alike. Her desire is to see Indigenous people making meaningful connections between our cultures and Scripture and experiencing healing as we realize that our Creator has never broken treaty with us but calls us to walk with him on the path made straight in the wilderness. Robin can be reached on Facebook at facebook.com/robining.ham.73.
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.
Five years ago my pastor and ministry supervisor encouraged me to attend seminary. He said that I would make a terrific lead pastor and that I would give any seminary a run for their money, whatever that meant. I think it meant that I was intelligent and challenged the status quo. I balked; there was no way I would ever go back to school and become saddled with debt. However, the provincial government at the time introduced an attractive grant program. I interpreted that, plus a strong sense of call and a commitment to my church, as a sign that I should enroll in seminary. The only problem was that, once I enrolled full-time, the new provincial government reverted back to a largely loan-centred student assistance program, and trouble began brewing for me at the church in which I ministered. Today I am churchless and jobless with a large student loan to repay. I feel rejected, lost, and slightly panicky.
“‘Comfort, comfort my people,’ says your God. ‘Speak tenderly to [literally “to the heart of”] Jerusalem’” (Isa. 40:1 ESV).
I just came across wording like this in my Hebrew exegesis class. In Ruth 2:13 (ESV), in response to Boaz’ kindness, Ruth says, “I have found favour in your eyes, my lord, for you have comforted me and have spoken kindly [literally “to the heart of”] your servant, though I am not one of your servants.” It is a language of intimacy. In the pain of crossed wires and rejection, I wonder if God is telling us something about how we are to treat each other in times of uncertainty, when the Other seems very mysterious and so very unlike us. As Christians, we may be tempted to speak polite, and even what we may consider to be kind, words even as we alienate those who don’t think like us or challenge our certainty in our ministry agendas. But I think there is something to this “speaking to the heart.” I come from a culture where respect and reciprocity are valued. Reciprocity requires remaining open to the Other, even at the risk of being hurt. This is not a matter of asceticism but an acknowledgment of our connectedness, whether we like it or not. What hurts one member of the community hurts all. What heals one heals all.
Maybe our goal as Christians is not to move from plateau to plateau in increased followers, popular programming, and revenue, but to hear someone tell us how we have spoken to their heart and how they feel seen, heard, and comforted. Boaz had no obligation to Ruth, a foreigner, and, by Isaiah’s time, Israel had run up her iniquity tab to its limit. Yet God, in his mercy, declared that the day would come when “her warfare is ended … her iniquity is pardoned, [and] she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins” (Isa. 40:2 ESV). Being redeemed by the One on whom “God has laid the iniquity of us all” (Isa. 53:6), shouldn’t we be focusing our energies on speaking to each other’s hearts as Jesus did to the thief on the cross (Luke 23:42-43), that same cross from which Jesus cried out to the Father in hurt and confusion, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” (Matt. 27:46)? For Christ on the cross, to embrace the mystery was to embrace the Other, even at the greatest cost to himself. Do we have what it takes as his followers to follow suit?
The going is rough for those of us in a wilderness, whether we are there because of our own sin or someone else’s. Yet mountains and valleys are levelled so that the way is made smooth for our God, not in some fancy palace somewhere but right here in the wilderness where we have been wandering (Isa. 40:3-5), and we will all see his glory. He is strong (Isa. 40:10), but the same arm that rules the nations gathers the lambs and holds them close to his heart (Isa. 40:11).
The closing clause in Isaiah 40:11 brings me to tears when I read it in Hebrew: “עָלוֹת יְנַהֵֽל (‘ā·lō·wṯ yə·na·hêl).” עָלוֹת are literally nursing mothers. [1] In the Piel stem,נָהַל (na.hal) can mean: “to lead to a watering-place or station and cause to rest there; to lead or bring to a station or goal; to lead, guide; to give rest to; or to refresh (with food).”[2] In this verse we are presented with the image of a powerful yet gentle shepherd gathering up the lambs in his arms and leading the exhausted nursing ewes along the newly smoothed path in the wilderness to a place of rest and refreshing. Not any old temporary resting place, mind you, but that final place of shalom we all crave. I have been a nursing mother three times, and I can tell you that the current exhaustion of trying to be faithful in this uncertainty is not far off from those early days of sleep deprivation when a strong and gentle shepherd would have been a welcome sight. How beautiful it would have been to know that my babies were safe in his arms while I ate the food he prepared for me and rested comfortably under his watchful eye.
It is true that I am in a wilderness as we approach Advent this year. I am hurt, confused, and worried about making ends meet. I feel guilty for racking up student loans while my husband has worked hard to put food on our table. I miss the fellowship of the congregation, which I still love dearly, and I feel the call to ministry stronger than ever as I learn that I can access and share the gospel directly as a Métis Christian with other Indigenous people without it being so darned tangled in western culture. It is a mystery where to go from here. But I trust our God. I trust our Saviour, who has indeed made straight the way in the wilderness. In the midst of the unknowns, let us cling to the image of the Good Shepherd. And if we lie down, we will not be afraid; when we lie down our sleep will be sweet (Prov. 3:24). Shalom.
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