have come near.
ADVENT
“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly.”
—MARK 13:32-36
Some years ago, during a lengthy trip through Europe via rail, my wife and I found ourselves perplexed by the myriad options available to us at the train station in Rome. There were dozens of names and numbers displayed on the overhead schedules, trains coming and going, and thousands of people clamoring about with their families and luggage. In short, we were bewildered, frightened, and certainly lost.
Fortunately, we had a guide who met us at the station and gave us both reassurance and instruction. “Here is what you watch for,” she told us. “Don’t become distracted by the hustle and bustle around you. Always keep an eye out for the porter. He will be on board and will give you instruction as to when you have arrived at your destination.”
Our guide was most helpful. And I’m not sure we would have made it through Europe without her calm assurances and her steady hand.
Advent begins—and in fact, the entirety of the Christian journey begins—at the point where we accept Jesus as our Guide and begin to walk with his calm assurances in the midst of our fears. He’s going to meet us, he tells us. He’s going to show up, even if we don’t know when or how. Jesus even invites us to look for his presence in the lives and faces of others. He may come to us at unexpected moments or when we are most tired or worn or confused. He may show up at the beginning or appear at the end of all things, when we least expect God’s redemption or grace.
What a promise!
So, as Mark 13 tells us, we need to be ready for Jesus’ coming at all times, including during our Advent journey. We may encounter Jesus in those closest to us: a spouse, a son or daughter, a grandparent, or a neighbor across the street. The way to Bethlehem is saturated with starts and stops, with both darkness and light, with angels and shepherds. We may discover that, like that of the shepherds (see Luke 2:8-20), our journey to Bethlehem is not far; or we may have to travel a great distance to get where we need to be, as did the magi (see Matthew 2:1-12).
But the journey, as with every journey, begins with a single step: a step of faith; a lively step of confidence and watchfulness. Where do you need to be with God? Where might God be guiding you? What are you waiting for?
Prayer: Lord Emmanuel, let me be alert and watchful for your arrival, for your guidance. Help me not to fall asleep or be blinded by arrogance or pride. Help me to watch through the night as I anticipate the dawn. Strengthen me for the journey ahead. Amen.
ADVENT
Present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.
—ROMANS 12:1-2
Centuries ago, after the church had become centered and clustered within large cities, the movement began to develop a Christian way of life consisting of retreat, contemplation, and simple living. This was known as the monastic movement, and the men and women who devoted themselves to this new way were later called the desert fathers and mothers. Anthony, who lived around 350 CE, is often considered the father of monasticism.
While few modern Christians will take up this way of life, it is compelling to listen to some of these early teachings regarding simplicity and devotion to Christ. In many respects, our lives are no less contorted by the world these early monks encountered. For example, Anthony warned that the two main enemies of the spiritual life are anger and greed. Anger, he believed, emerges when we feel that we have been deprived of love, security, relationship, or hope. And if we searched our hearts, we would discover that what was true then is true now.
Likewise, Anthony believed that greed flows out of this anger. What we don’t have, we want. And not just with money; greed can also take the form of being in possessive relationships, accruing security in things rather than principles, or even holding ourselves at the center of life.
It is not easy to get past these things—especially as we prepare for Christmas, with all of its buying, and gift-giving, and stark awareness of our blessings and deficiencies. In fact, this season can often exacerbate our anger and greed and make us less receptive to the very Christ we profess to welcome and celebrate.
Perhaps transformation is needed in the Advent journey toward Bethlehem. Perhaps we need to see things and people in new ways, to listen to the Spirit through new ears, to hear the cry of the needy as a cry of hope and salvation. During the days ahead, what transformations might be helpful to you and your family? Are there alluring temptations that need to be ignored? Are there sacrifices that need to be made to see Christ’s love in new ways?
Prayer: Lord, renew us and open our eyes, so that we can see past the allures and temptations of this season. We are often seduced by busyness and a frantic pace. Slow us down, Lord. Help us to find sanctuary and security in your loving embrace and the promises of your everlasting love. Amen.
ADVENT
I . . . beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all.
—EPHESIANS 4:1-6
In every generation, there are people who want to make a difference—people whose thoughts and great aspirations move the hearts and minds of the church. In 1856, in London, that person was William Booth, a Methodist who noted that, once again, people had become estranged from the church, and the church, subsequently, had become estranged from the needs of society. Despair and hopelessness had been wed to poverty and discord. There was no unity of service to meet the needs of humanity, and God seemed, to
