First Monday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
Psalm 79
A psalm of Asaph.O God, the nations have invaded your inheritance; they have defiled your holy temple, they have reduced Jerusalem to rubble. 2 They have left the dead bodies of your servants as food for the birds of the sky, the flesh of your own people for the animals of the wild. 3 They have poured out blood like water all around Jerusalem, and there is no one to bury the dead. 4 We are objects of contempt to our neighbors, of scorn and derision to those around us. 5 How long, Lord? Will you be angry forever? How long will your jealousy burn like fire? 6 Pour out your wrath on the nations that do not acknowledge you, on the kingdoms that do not call on your name; 7 for they have devoured Jacob and devastated his homeland. 8 Do not hold against us the sins of past generations; may your mercy come quickly to meet us, for we are in desperate need. 9 Help us, God our Savior, for the glory of your name; deliver us and forgive our sins for your name’s sake. 10 Why should the nations say, “Where is their God?” Before our eyes, make known among the nations that you avenge the outpoured blood of your servants. 11 May the groans of the prisoners come before you; with your strong arm preserve those condemned to die. 12 Pay back into the laps of our neighbors seven times the contempt they have hurled at you, Lord. 13 Then we your people, the sheep of your pasture, will praise you forever; from generation to generation we will proclaim your praise.
Micah 4:1-5
The Mountain of the LordIn the last days the mountain of the Lord’s temple will be established as the highest of the mountains; it will be exalted above the hills, and peoples will stream to it. 2 Many nations will come and say, “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the temple of the God of Jacob. He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths.” The law will go out from Zion, the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. 3 He will judge between many peoples and will settle disputes for strong nations far and wide. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore. 4 Everyone will sit under their own vine and under their own fig tree, and no one will make them afraid, for the Lord Almighty has spoken. 5 All the nations may walk in the name of their gods, but we will walk in the name of the Lord our God for ever and ever.
Revelation 15:1-
Seven Angels With Seven PlaguesI saw in heaven another great and marvelous sign: seven angels with the seven last plagues—last, because with them God’s wrath is completed. 2 And I saw what looked like a sea of glass glowing with fire and, standing beside the sea, those who had been victorious over the beast and its image and over the number of its name. They held harps given them by God 3 and sang the song of God’s servant Moses and of the Lamb: “Great and marvelous are your deeds, Lord God Almighty. Just and true are your ways, King of the nations. 4 Who will not fear you, Lord, and bring glory to your name? For you alone are holy. All nations will come and worship before you, for your righteous acts have been revealed.” 5 After this I looked, and I saw in heaven the temple—that is, the tabernacle of the covenant law—and it was opened. 6 Out of the temple came the seven angels with the seven plagues. They were dressed in clean, shining linen and wore golden sashes around their chests. 7 Then one of the four living creatures gave to the seven angels seven golden bowls filled with the wrath of God, who lives for ever and ever. 8 And the temple was filled with smoke from the glory of God and from his power, and no one could enter the temple until the seven plagues of the seven angels were completed.
Under the Night Sky
by Steve Coupland
Steve Coupland is a transitional pastor, consultant, piecemeal graphic designer, food enthusiast, farmer, husband, and farmer. He is the creator of Resolve & Flourish, intentional transitional ministry and consulting. He has been part of the pastoral team as a transitional pastor at Elevation Waterloo since April of 2022. He provides digital support to the Transitional Leadership Network. He and his family homestead and homeschool on a hobby farm near Bothwell, ON.
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. On the walk back to the house, I stop to look up at the stars, to take in a big deep breath, and to exhale out the stressors of the day.
Advent is a season often characterized by waiting and walking in darkness, grasping for hope even as it feels fleeting and far off. One of the lectionary texts for today is from Revelation 15. Reading it, I found myself wondering what connects the bright awe-and-wonder-filled description of this scene with the darkness of Advent. That was when I noticed that the song these celestial figures were singing was a harmony of the song of the Lamb and the song of Moses.
The song of Moses finds its place in the story on the other side of the Red Sea, with a vast wilderness before them, and seemingly no possibility of turning back to Egypt. It is a song sung at dawn's light, after a nighttime crossing of the sea mysteriously and miraculously on dry land.
Amidst the evocative imagery of a parted sea, pillars of smoke and fire, and the thunderous pursuit of those behind them, we might forget or fail to see that they crossed under a blanket of stars, each retelling the story of a long-ago promise, each rekindling a hope for flourishing. Could it be that this community of wilderness wanderers found comfort in the darkness of the desert and the surprising beauty of the stars, just as Abraham looked to the stars, and the wisemen as they searched for Jesus?
As a transitional pastor here in Canada, I find myself walking with communities alongside their grief and through their darkness. As one who has wandered in my own wilderness, and as one who has become accustomed to walking along dark and winding paths, I have learned to take comfort in the unknown and the unknowing, in the apophatic, or wordless, tradition of our faith.
What if the surprise gift of this season is a vessel to hold our grief and our questions? What if the invitation is for us to embody a posture of open-handed wondering over and against our propensity to rush headlong toward the myriad joys of Christmas? Of all of the Church calendar seasons, surely it is Advent that feels most able to handle our doubts, our grief, and the dizzying flurry of questions we hold in weary hands.
At the outset of this Advent season, I take comfort in knowing that this is a kind of beginning to the story. It is my beginning. It is our beginning. It is beginning again for the Church. I’m reminded that the Hebrew day begins at nightfall - there was evening and there was morning the first day - and that our beginnings so often start in the dark. From the darkness of the womb to the birth of the first covenant under the starry sky, from a people walking in great darkness to the prayer Jesus offered in a garden throughout the night, surely this darkness is fertile ground for new seedlings of hope and life and flourishing.
Long before we arrive at the Christmas story of light arriving in the darkness, we find ourselves at the beginning of this beautiful season, at night, looking up at the stars in the sky, holding onto promises spoken and hope longed for. At this new beginning, can we stop to look up at the stars, take in a big deep breath, and settle into whatever beautiful surprises befall us this season?
A Breath Prayer for the Second Day of Advent
Take a few minutes to put your feet flat on the floor, to settle your body, to slow down, and start to pay attention to your rhythm of breathing. Breathe in a big deep breath through your nose, hold it for a few seconds, and then exhale deeply. Repeat this until you feel your breathing slowing and your body calming. Then consider praying these words:
Jesus, You are not overcome by darkness,
And You are with us in our grief and our doubts,
For You are the God who steps into dark places as light and life.
Inhale: In the darkness of Advent
Exhale: We wait for you Jesus
Amen.
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