Once again the cycle turns and I find myself at the beginning. And as I sat in church on the First Sunday of Advent I recognized that the Jews, and then the Christians, had it right when they formed their calendars. There was always what I would call a secular calendar marking time based on days and cycles and seasons, and there was a second calendar, a sacred calendar, marking time based on the presence and action of God in the work of deliverance and reconciliation. Despite this dual marking or remembrance of time, we tend to order our lives by the secular calendar with seasons bracketed by holidays, vacations, deadlines, paychecks, appointments, retirement, and dozens of other mile markers. And that calendar, the secular one, tends to be so filled up that it's easy to forget the sacred, the spiritual ordering of our minds, hearts, and souls that should somehow be more real and meaningful. The world moves on, year after year, but even as it does God is still at work, still present. And it should be the sacred calendar that brings us back to the underlying reality of what is true and right in our lives.
That is why I begin each year by buying a new calendar book, one that is formatted to fit the secular year from January 1 to December 31, one that has all of the pre-printed reminders of things the publishers feel we ought to be aware of. Some are useless; for instance, why give me four years of important dates reminding me that New Year's Day is on January 1 each year. Some are bizarre; who did lobby to get Administrative Professionals Day started and put on the calendar? And a few are useful; for instance, knowing when Canada Day was would have prevented me from visiting the Canadian side of Niagara Falls on that day with all of the other thousands of Canadians. But what I do with this new calendar is immediately pencil in the liturgical calendar for the year, placing the dates and seasons that have to do with God's work within our world, and, by extension, God's work within my life. Thus it is I find myself back at the beginning of the old, old story with a full four weeks until the end of the secular year. And it is my hope that I receive the story fresh and new as it begins its retelling, and that I find my own life once again woven into its context and storyline.
Showing posts with label advent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label advent. Show all posts
Monday, December 9, 2013
Monday, December 17, 2012
Life's Purpose and the Third Sunday of Advent
Gaudete Sunday, the pink candle, and the call to rejoice. The Introit for the day is partly from Philippians, "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice. Indeed, the Lord is near." I have to confess that Kathy and I tarried a little in getting ready for Advent, and so our candle for this week is white, not pink (they were out of them at the store). Oh well!. Anyway, our church's candle is pink and we dutifully lit it this morning and something in what the pastor said got me asking this question, "Do I believe that each life has a divine purpose and plan?" Said another way, do I believe that God creates us and our life for a specific purpose in His plan, and that He then ordains every detail of what evangelicals call "His perfect will" for us? Things like who we will marry (evangelicals, especially young evangelicals, are always very concerned about that), where we will go to school, what we will do for an occupation, what our gifting and ministry is going to be in the kingdom, and so on. Now I must admit I have seen the hand of God openly active in my family's life at times in the past. But I also have to admit that it is not a routine, day-in and day-out occurrence. Sometimes it's my hand more than his that rules the day. And that got me to thinking of other alternative schemes that God may use for life than the whole perfect will route. Perhaps He simply gives life to us and imbues it with full potential, and then allows us to choose, to live, to fail, to succeed, to journey...to work out our salvation with fear and trembling. I am reading a book on this great debate about how the sovereignty of God interfaces with the concept of free will and choice, how predestination really plays out in our world and I confess it makes a compelling case for this model.
So ridiculous concepts pop into my head this morning including such notions that God has preordained my wardrobe for my entire life, what tie I will wear today and so on. Ridiculous, I know, but somehow truth pushed to extreme always ends up in those corners or my understanding. But more seriously I was forced to face other issues such as does God create babies that die prematurely, or men and women born into slavery or subjected to poverty or crippled by disease. And it's at that point that the pat answers that used to serve me well seem to stick in my mouth and I have to say, I don't know. I don't always understand the way things work out in life and sometimes I don't always feel like "rejoicing", even when the candle is pink instead of purple. But on this Third Sunday of Advent, my hope remains that the Lord indeed is near, because He is the only one that can bring sense out of the muddle that I continually find myself in.
So ridiculous concepts pop into my head this morning including such notions that God has preordained my wardrobe for my entire life, what tie I will wear today and so on. Ridiculous, I know, but somehow truth pushed to extreme always ends up in those corners or my understanding. But more seriously I was forced to face other issues such as does God create babies that die prematurely, or men and women born into slavery or subjected to poverty or crippled by disease. And it's at that point that the pat answers that used to serve me well seem to stick in my mouth and I have to say, I don't know. I don't always understand the way things work out in life and sometimes I don't always feel like "rejoicing", even when the candle is pink instead of purple. But on this Third Sunday of Advent, my hope remains that the Lord indeed is near, because He is the only one that can bring sense out of the muddle that I continually find myself in.
The Unexpected Hand of God
Advent is a great time to float those impossible prayers out there. The entire Christmas story is one big impossible expression of hope fulfilled, the proverbial victory snatched from the jaws of defeat, so why not pray big in a season like this? As I grow older my prayers tend to be much more focused, give me an outlet for what you have gifted me to be. A pastor without a church is not a pastor at all, and I wrestle with what God has made me to be without giving me an opportunity to express it. Now this is not about pastoring, but it is about feeling the hand of God, and, more specifically, feeling the hand of God with no idea as to what it means. But I had to record this thought before I lost it forever.
A little background. There are always individuals in every church that are always on the fringes...you know the type. They are the dancers, and exhuberant praisers, and faith confessors, and ardent prayers, and mountain-moving believers. And while a lot of people may write them off as extreme, there is just something about them that makes me know that they have seen the face of God, and routinely find themselves in His presence, and so when they speak, I listen.
And that's where this account finally gels together. The scene: Second Sunday of Advent, pre-service praise music, finishing a cup of coffee in the back pew and trying to get my thoughts in a somewhat ready order. Praise group is singing a song that I don't recognize, one of those generic songs naming all of the great qualities of Jesus and what He has done. And as they sing this one particular line "through you the dead will raise", the hand of God, or more accurately the hand of our resident God-seeker, lands on my shoulder and more or less says "that is you." So that's it. I do not have a clue what it means, and I was frankly scared to ask for much of anything more in the way of explanation. It is worth recording because it does not happen that often, but I have come to expect great things from this season. This is one of those "thin" times, when the barrier between heaven and earth gets gauze-like thin and miracles still happen.
A little background. There are always individuals in every church that are always on the fringes...you know the type. They are the dancers, and exhuberant praisers, and faith confessors, and ardent prayers, and mountain-moving believers. And while a lot of people may write them off as extreme, there is just something about them that makes me know that they have seen the face of God, and routinely find themselves in His presence, and so when they speak, I listen.
And that's where this account finally gels together. The scene: Second Sunday of Advent, pre-service praise music, finishing a cup of coffee in the back pew and trying to get my thoughts in a somewhat ready order. Praise group is singing a song that I don't recognize, one of those generic songs naming all of the great qualities of Jesus and what He has done. And as they sing this one particular line "through you the dead will raise", the hand of God, or more accurately the hand of our resident God-seeker, lands on my shoulder and more or less says "that is you." So that's it. I do not have a clue what it means, and I was frankly scared to ask for much of anything more in the way of explanation. It is worth recording because it does not happen that often, but I have come to expect great things from this season. This is one of those "thin" times, when the barrier between heaven and earth gets gauze-like thin and miracles still happen.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Another Reflection on the First Sunday of Advent
So we lit the first candle on the Advent wreath, and the little narrative that was read reminded us that this first candle was the candle of hope. Now your little narrative may be different, but for the sake of continuing this reflection let's say that hope is as good as anything for the first candle to represent. Now I am not as much a curmudgeon as some of my family may think I am, and I really do, deep inside of my inmost self, want to hold onto the things of God and have the fullness of deliverance that He alone gives. But I asked myself first, "What is hope?", and second, "Did anything that we do this morning in the sanctuary really give us (me) hope?" Or did we walk out of church on this First Sunday of Advent saying the words but completely missing out on the reality?
Searching for a meaning I turned to Webster's first and found that hope (a noun) is a desire accompanied by an expectation of something or a belief that something will come to pass. But that seemed pretty shallow, not at all the message I heard at church. Webster's tried to make me feel better (more hopeful???) by informing me that the word used to be synonymous for trust or reliance in something, but that we don't use the word that way any more. No fooling! That's the problem, we say we hope for something, but we feel all empty and futile in our declaration That was not what I was really looking for, so I turned to Hebrews and found that hope was intended to be the anchor of my soul, firm and secure. I read further that it proceeds from the promise of God, something that He has eternally decreed and in which He cannot lie. And furthermore, this anchor is grounded in the very center of the sanctuary of God where Jesus stands and ministers on my behalf, forever. And that, I determined, was the reality of the word hope that was supposed to be portrayed by that first frail candle.
No offense meant to the Advent wreath, but a behemoth of an iron anchor set firmly and providing secure mooring I can understand. I have to admit, however, that on this First Sunday of Advent, my personal level of hope seems much more akin to the flickering, feeble light of that first candle, frail and easily snuffed. It would be easy to despair and give up, to think that none of the things we do week after week really inspire a hope that is supposed to anchor our soul. We walk out the door and we find ourselves without secure mooring, being beat to death by life itself. I find myself wondering do any of us really have hope? What evidence is there that is is real? But then I notice that something still compels me to put one foot in front of the other, I still move (perhaps slowly and unsurely but move nonetheless) towards something elusive that still lies before me and beckons in some unknown way to my soul. And that reassures me that hope must still be present and active inside of me, even when I am unaware of it. And while I still want more certainty, that seems enough to take away on this First Sunday of Advent.
Searching for a meaning I turned to Webster's first and found that hope (a noun) is a desire accompanied by an expectation of something or a belief that something will come to pass. But that seemed pretty shallow, not at all the message I heard at church. Webster's tried to make me feel better (more hopeful???) by informing me that the word used to be synonymous for trust or reliance in something, but that we don't use the word that way any more. No fooling! That's the problem, we say we hope for something, but we feel all empty and futile in our declaration That was not what I was really looking for, so I turned to Hebrews and found that hope was intended to be the anchor of my soul, firm and secure. I read further that it proceeds from the promise of God, something that He has eternally decreed and in which He cannot lie. And furthermore, this anchor is grounded in the very center of the sanctuary of God where Jesus stands and ministers on my behalf, forever. And that, I determined, was the reality of the word hope that was supposed to be portrayed by that first frail candle.
No offense meant to the Advent wreath, but a behemoth of an iron anchor set firmly and providing secure mooring I can understand. I have to admit, however, that on this First Sunday of Advent, my personal level of hope seems much more akin to the flickering, feeble light of that first candle, frail and easily snuffed. It would be easy to despair and give up, to think that none of the things we do week after week really inspire a hope that is supposed to anchor our soul. We walk out the door and we find ourselves without secure mooring, being beat to death by life itself. I find myself wondering do any of us really have hope? What evidence is there that is is real? But then I notice that something still compels me to put one foot in front of the other, I still move (perhaps slowly and unsurely but move nonetheless) towards something elusive that still lies before me and beckons in some unknown way to my soul. And that reassures me that hope must still be present and active inside of me, even when I am unaware of it. And while I still want more certainty, that seems enough to take away on this First Sunday of Advent.
On the First Sunday of Advent
I wish that I could remain proverbially "fat, dumb, and happy" when it comes to things religious. When I was young-ish, I could skate through most any church service without a care, only stumbling on things that were monumental in terms of heresy or apostasy or the like. Now I find that I catch my feet on a thousand little things that I would hardly have noticed in my younger days. I think that is caused by being much closer to my death than my birth. When you are nearing the end of your timeline on earth you tend to take stock of all of the things you have picked up along the way because it becomes harder to carry them all, and you question things that you would have hardly noticed before because you are measuring them against eternity and trying to decide whether they have any lasting value for you after all.
On this First Sunday of Advent we heard about light, light coming into the world, light coming into the darkness. And I wondered whether it was presumptuous of us, on this First Sunday of Advent, to once again mention the Us/Them distinction, as in, "We walk in the light", while "They (the elusive they) remain lost in darkness." Okay, I know the scriptures, I can quote all of the ones popping into your head as your read these words that would seem to bolster this distinction. But even if the world lies in the hands of the wicked one, can we really say that everything is darkness? If so, where does innovation invention, composition, or creativity come from? From what source does courage, generosity, compassion, loyalty, or empathy spring? Did God really turn His back on the world and leave it to its own devices so that all it produced in His sight was the filthy rags of failure and despair during that interlude from Adam's sin to the coming of Jesus? Or was there always a glimmer of eternity stuck away in the hearts of each and every person that was put there by the very hand of God, sometimes brighter, sometimes dimmer, never being completely extinguished, and ultimately finding its meaning in the coming of Jesus? I only ask because I look at the world, then I look at the church, then I look at the world, then I look back at the church and it seems that the distinction is one of words only, and that both of us seem to be sharing a shade of gray more than either of the two extremes. On this First Sunday of Advent I do find hope in the words of Isaiah 42 quoted also in the gospels, "A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out..." If this is what the coming of Jesus offers to me then I am thankful that whatever light I do have will not be taken from me until the day that makes all things light be fulfilled in me.
On this First Sunday of Advent we heard about light, light coming into the world, light coming into the darkness. And I wondered whether it was presumptuous of us, on this First Sunday of Advent, to once again mention the Us/Them distinction, as in, "We walk in the light", while "They (the elusive they) remain lost in darkness." Okay, I know the scriptures, I can quote all of the ones popping into your head as your read these words that would seem to bolster this distinction. But even if the world lies in the hands of the wicked one, can we really say that everything is darkness? If so, where does innovation invention, composition, or creativity come from? From what source does courage, generosity, compassion, loyalty, or empathy spring? Did God really turn His back on the world and leave it to its own devices so that all it produced in His sight was the filthy rags of failure and despair during that interlude from Adam's sin to the coming of Jesus? Or was there always a glimmer of eternity stuck away in the hearts of each and every person that was put there by the very hand of God, sometimes brighter, sometimes dimmer, never being completely extinguished, and ultimately finding its meaning in the coming of Jesus? I only ask because I look at the world, then I look at the church, then I look at the world, then I look back at the church and it seems that the distinction is one of words only, and that both of us seem to be sharing a shade of gray more than either of the two extremes. On this First Sunday of Advent I do find hope in the words of Isaiah 42 quoted also in the gospels, "A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out..." If this is what the coming of Jesus offers to me then I am thankful that whatever light I do have will not be taken from me until the day that makes all things light be fulfilled in me.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Advent, The Preparation Days of Christmas
"...But when the fullness of the time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons." Galatians 4:4-5
There have always been two opinions present in the world concerning God and His involvement in our world. The first is expressed in II Peter 3:3-4, "...know this first, that scoffers will come in the last days...saying 'Where is the promise of His coming? For since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of creation.'" The world has little use for God under the best of conditions, and it certainly has no interest in a God that has promised some day to intervene by separating wickedness from righteousness and by bringing in a judgment which will forever bind the spiritual forces of evil in order that the Kingdom of heaven might be manifest. The second is expressed a little further on in II Peter 3:11-13 where it proclaims "Therefore, since all these things will be dissolved, what manner of persons ought you to be in holy conduct and godliness, looking for and hastening the coming of the day of God...we, according to His promise, look for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells." To the first group, the Day of Yahweh (the covenant God) is a religious fable; to the second group it is the sure promise of God that the day of their salvation has come. The difference in perspective is critical. It can mean missing the presence of the Lord and His Kingdom as it had for the Jews at the first coming of the Lord. Luke 10:41-44 "If you had known...the things that make for your peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes....because you did not know the time of your visitation." Or it can mean receiving the fullness of God's salvation at His appearing as it says in Luke 21:28, "Now when these things begin to happen, look up and lift up your heads because your redemption is near." The season of Advent is given to us so that we might examine our hearts to see which of the two opinions holds sway within us, for the season of Christmas can either be a season of light and grace (a blessed Christmas), or it remains only a season of merchandising and nuisance (a Bah, Humbug!).
The word Advent comes from the Latin word adventus which means a coming or arrival. It was used in the pagan nations to herald the official visit of important dignitaries or rulers. It was also used to indicate the annual observances and ceremonies in the various temples of the gods. It is an especially good word for the Church to use for in this season we remember the birth of Jesus Christ who is worthy of our homage as the King of Kings, and worthy of our worship as God the Son. Two themes are interwoven throughout the season. The first is penitence and preparation as the season reminds us that we are not all that we should be, that our lives, no matter how we may fill them up, are still empty at their core if we do not first acknowledge our need for God. This theme is visually portrayed to us by the use of the liturgical color violet, the Church's color of penitence and self-examination. The second theme, however, is that of joyful hope and expectation of fulfillment as the season reminds us that God's promises are made "Yes" and "Amen" in Jesus Christ. This theme is woven in by the use of the liturgical color rose on Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent.
The tradition of observing four Sundays prior to Christmas Day is ancient within the Church. It is first found in the liturgical books of Spain and France as far back as the fourth century and appears to have made its way to the Roman Church by the fifth century. Although it had some of the elements of a solemn preparation for the Holy Day of Christmas, it was not of the same penitential attitude of the season of Lent. It was better characterized as a season of "joyful preparation" as we mentioned above. By the thirteenth century it appears to have been universally adopted for use within the Church. Some liturgical interpreters have said that the four weeks of Advent are intended to remind us of the 4,000 years of darkness in which the world walked after the sin of Adam and prior to the coming of the light of Christ to dispel that darkness. That certainly expresses the true significance of Christmas Day which we look forward to throughout the season. The season is fixed and variable at the same time; fixed in the sense that it is always the four Sundays immediately preceding Christmas Day, variable in the sense that it moves about on the secular calendar with the first Sunday being the one nearest to the Remembrance Day of St. Andrew. For the Church it marks the beginning of its liturgical year reminding us that we walk according to a time-table which celebrates the works of God's salvation and not just the marking of time in the world.
The four Sundays have their own individual sub-themes as well, as expressed in the prayers and scriptural readings for the day. On the first Sunday of Advent we stir up within our hearts both self-examination and longing. We remember the true condition of our hearts without God, and we cry out with the Apostle Paul in a sense of helplessness "O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? (Romans 7:24-25). The answer comes to us in a moment, "I thank God --through Jesus Christ our Lord!" As we light the first candle on the Advent wreath may we recall when God first kindled the light of life in our hearts. May it shine forth brighter each day that we live. On the second Sunday of Advent we recall the true depth of humility that was portrayed to us in Jesus Christ "Who being in the form of God did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a servant and coming in the likeness of men..." ( Philippians 2:5-8) We recall further, that true humility is the entrance-way to the Kingdom. As we light the second candle may we add humility to the light of salvation, for it is the doorway to Heaven; and by it we will shine as the lights of the world. On the third Sunday of Advent we remember that for all His humility and submission to the Father's will, Jesus is still the Christ, God's anointed, King of Kings and Lord of Lords. As He came in humility that first Christmas, so He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead. As it says in Revelation 19:11-16, "Then I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse. And He who sat on him was called Faithful and True...His name is called The Word of God...and He has on His robe...a name written King of Kings and Lord of Lords." The mystery of God's salvation is, after all as Paul said in Colossians 1:27 "Christ in you, the hope of glory." As we light the third candle, may we add this hope of glory to our humility and salvation that it might be a lamp to light our way home. And on the fourth Sunday of Advent we at last prepare our hearts to make a straight way for the Lord on the day of our visitation as it says in Isaiah 40:3-5 "Every valley shall be exalted,....every mountain shall be made low; the crooked places shall be made straight and the rough places made smooth." When once our heart is prepared in this way then "the glory of the Lord shall be revealed". As we light the last candle and see them all burning may we recall the fulfillment of Christ's love and the fire of the Holy Spirit burning within us. As these candles say "Complete" may we also be completely ready to receive Him anew in this season.
We must be the people of God who looks for and hastens the day of His second coming by our prayers, our hopes, our lives of godliness and righteousness. May our attitude in this Advent season reflect that which is recorded by the Apostle John in Revelation 22:17-21, "...the Spirit and the bride [the Church of Jesus Christ] say 'Come!' And let him who thirsts come. And whoever desires, let him take the water of life freely....He [Jesus Christ] Who testifies to these things says, 'Surely I am coming quickly.' Amen [that is, let it be so]. Even so, come, Lord Jesus!."
There have always been two opinions present in the world concerning God and His involvement in our world. The first is expressed in II Peter 3:3-4, "...know this first, that scoffers will come in the last days...saying 'Where is the promise of His coming? For since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of creation.'" The world has little use for God under the best of conditions, and it certainly has no interest in a God that has promised some day to intervene by separating wickedness from righteousness and by bringing in a judgment which will forever bind the spiritual forces of evil in order that the Kingdom of heaven might be manifest. The second is expressed a little further on in II Peter 3:11-13 where it proclaims "Therefore, since all these things will be dissolved, what manner of persons ought you to be in holy conduct and godliness, looking for and hastening the coming of the day of God...we, according to His promise, look for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells." To the first group, the Day of Yahweh (the covenant God) is a religious fable; to the second group it is the sure promise of God that the day of their salvation has come. The difference in perspective is critical. It can mean missing the presence of the Lord and His Kingdom as it had for the Jews at the first coming of the Lord. Luke 10:41-44 "If you had known...the things that make for your peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes....because you did not know the time of your visitation." Or it can mean receiving the fullness of God's salvation at His appearing as it says in Luke 21:28, "Now when these things begin to happen, look up and lift up your heads because your redemption is near." The season of Advent is given to us so that we might examine our hearts to see which of the two opinions holds sway within us, for the season of Christmas can either be a season of light and grace (a blessed Christmas), or it remains only a season of merchandising and nuisance (a Bah, Humbug!).
The word Advent comes from the Latin word adventus which means a coming or arrival. It was used in the pagan nations to herald the official visit of important dignitaries or rulers. It was also used to indicate the annual observances and ceremonies in the various temples of the gods. It is an especially good word for the Church to use for in this season we remember the birth of Jesus Christ who is worthy of our homage as the King of Kings, and worthy of our worship as God the Son. Two themes are interwoven throughout the season. The first is penitence and preparation as the season reminds us that we are not all that we should be, that our lives, no matter how we may fill them up, are still empty at their core if we do not first acknowledge our need for God. This theme is visually portrayed to us by the use of the liturgical color violet, the Church's color of penitence and self-examination. The second theme, however, is that of joyful hope and expectation of fulfillment as the season reminds us that God's promises are made "Yes" and "Amen" in Jesus Christ. This theme is woven in by the use of the liturgical color rose on Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent.
The tradition of observing four Sundays prior to Christmas Day is ancient within the Church. It is first found in the liturgical books of Spain and France as far back as the fourth century and appears to have made its way to the Roman Church by the fifth century. Although it had some of the elements of a solemn preparation for the Holy Day of Christmas, it was not of the same penitential attitude of the season of Lent. It was better characterized as a season of "joyful preparation" as we mentioned above. By the thirteenth century it appears to have been universally adopted for use within the Church. Some liturgical interpreters have said that the four weeks of Advent are intended to remind us of the 4,000 years of darkness in which the world walked after the sin of Adam and prior to the coming of the light of Christ to dispel that darkness. That certainly expresses the true significance of Christmas Day which we look forward to throughout the season. The season is fixed and variable at the same time; fixed in the sense that it is always the four Sundays immediately preceding Christmas Day, variable in the sense that it moves about on the secular calendar with the first Sunday being the one nearest to the Remembrance Day of St. Andrew. For the Church it marks the beginning of its liturgical year reminding us that we walk according to a time-table which celebrates the works of God's salvation and not just the marking of time in the world.
The four Sundays have their own individual sub-themes as well, as expressed in the prayers and scriptural readings for the day. On the first Sunday of Advent we stir up within our hearts both self-examination and longing. We remember the true condition of our hearts without God, and we cry out with the Apostle Paul in a sense of helplessness "O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? (Romans 7:24-25). The answer comes to us in a moment, "I thank God --through Jesus Christ our Lord!" As we light the first candle on the Advent wreath may we recall when God first kindled the light of life in our hearts. May it shine forth brighter each day that we live. On the second Sunday of Advent we recall the true depth of humility that was portrayed to us in Jesus Christ "Who being in the form of God did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a servant and coming in the likeness of men..." ( Philippians 2:5-8) We recall further, that true humility is the entrance-way to the Kingdom. As we light the second candle may we add humility to the light of salvation, for it is the doorway to Heaven; and by it we will shine as the lights of the world. On the third Sunday of Advent we remember that for all His humility and submission to the Father's will, Jesus is still the Christ, God's anointed, King of Kings and Lord of Lords. As He came in humility that first Christmas, so He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead. As it says in Revelation 19:11-16, "Then I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse. And He who sat on him was called Faithful and True...His name is called The Word of God...and He has on His robe...a name written King of Kings and Lord of Lords." The mystery of God's salvation is, after all as Paul said in Colossians 1:27 "Christ in you, the hope of glory." As we light the third candle, may we add this hope of glory to our humility and salvation that it might be a lamp to light our way home. And on the fourth Sunday of Advent we at last prepare our hearts to make a straight way for the Lord on the day of our visitation as it says in Isaiah 40:3-5 "Every valley shall be exalted,....every mountain shall be made low; the crooked places shall be made straight and the rough places made smooth." When once our heart is prepared in this way then "the glory of the Lord shall be revealed". As we light the last candle and see them all burning may we recall the fulfillment of Christ's love and the fire of the Holy Spirit burning within us. As these candles say "Complete" may we also be completely ready to receive Him anew in this season.
We must be the people of God who looks for and hastens the day of His second coming by our prayers, our hopes, our lives of godliness and righteousness. May our attitude in this Advent season reflect that which is recorded by the Apostle John in Revelation 22:17-21, "...the Spirit and the bride [the Church of Jesus Christ] say 'Come!' And let him who thirsts come. And whoever desires, let him take the water of life freely....He [Jesus Christ] Who testifies to these things says, 'Surely I am coming quickly.' Amen [that is, let it be so]. Even so, come, Lord Jesus!."
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