Reflections on the Season of Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany

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The Radical Love That Opens Doors Reflections on the Season of Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany


About the Cover Ms. Melissa Wiginton Vice President for Education Beyond the Walls, Research Professor in Methodist Studies Look at this art, “Creadora de Luz.” Creator of Light. Mary’s belly is huge … huge with the light of the world! When she gives birth, the baby may be swaddled and laid in a cave, but the light itself is pushed out into midnight skies as a beautiful and terrifying presence. The explosion of the Glory of God let loose from the warm womb of a woman. Put these two images from Luke beside each other: The terrifying glory of the Lord shining all around the shepherds in the field and the young mother who believed God was inside of her. What do you see? Angels explain that this light means a savior has come, and the sign is a baby, swaddled and laid in a manger. The big light and the small human are part of the same story of peace on earth. And off the shepherds go to share the angels’ news with Mary. She had indeed birthed the child of God.

Who will open the door to the Holy Family this year?


Week 1 of Advent: I Corinthians 1:3-9

Sunday, December 3, 2023 ............................................................................................3 Monday, December 4.....................................................................................................3 Tuesday, December 5.....................................................................................................4 Wednesday, December 6 ...............................................................................................5 Thursday, December 7 ...................................................................................................6 Friday, December 8 ........................................................................................................6 Saturday, December 9 .......................................................................................... 7

Week 2 of Advent: Isaiah 40:1-11

Sunday, December 10 ....................................................................................................7 Monday, December 11 ...................................................................................................8 Tuesday, December 12 ...................................................................................................9 Wednesday, December 13 .............................................................................................9 Thursday, December 14 ...............................................................................................10 Friday, December 15.....................................................................................................11 Saturday, December 16 ................................................................................................11

Week 3 of Advent: Luke 1:46b-55

Sunday, December 17 (1 Samuel 2:1-10) ....................................................................12 Monday, December 18.................................................................................................13 Tuesday, December 19 .................................................................................................13 Wednesday, December 20 ...........................................................................................14 Thursday, December 21 ...............................................................................................15 Friday, December 22 ....................................................................................................16 Saturday, December 23................................................................................................16

Christmas Eve & Christmas Day

Sunday, December 24 (James 1:17-18) ........................................................................17 Monday, December 25 (John 1:1-14)...........................................................................17

Twelve Days of Christmas: Luke 2:1-14

Tuesday, December 26.................................................................................................18 Wednesday, December 27 ...........................................................................................19 Thursday, December 28...............................................................................................19 Friday, December 29 ....................................................................................................20 Saturday, December 30................................................................................................21 Sunday, December 31 ..................................................................................................21 Monday, January 1, 2024..............................................................................................22 Tuesday, January 2 ........................................................................................................23 Wednesday, January 3 ..................................................................................................24 Thursday, January 4 ......................................................................................................24 Friday, January 5............................................................................................................25

Epiphany

Saturday, January 6 .......................................................................................................25 Sunday, January 7 (Matthew 2:1-12)............................................................................26 Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 1


Introduction to Advent Season

To observe the church seasons of Advent and Christmastide and the day of Epiphany means to know ourselves again in relation to God’s vulnerable love. The revelation of God’s love in our midst is a sign of vulnerability and weakness: a babe lying in a manger. God comes to us in the extremity of poverty and abnegation and shows that love is not power and manipulation, nor arrogance and control, but vulnerability to one another. Love is openness, it is availability, it is disarmament of the self in the presence of one another. God’s love is manifest in our Lord Jesus Christ and pulses at the hidden heart of things, around which all the worlds revolve. This makes it safe for us to love radically. This year our devotional has a new shape. During each week of Advent, faculty members reflect on the same text but through the lens of their discipline. And each day of Christmas, faculty members reflect on the same text, again through the lens of their discipline. We hope this sustained engagement with each text enriches our connections to the meanings of this season. The reflections for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and the day of Epiphany each focus on a specific text. Access the QR code at the beginning and the end of the devotional and find videos inviting us all to journey with the God of radical love through this season. Those of us at Austin Seminary want to hear your thoughts and reflections as you work your way through this year’s booklet. Please scan the Personal Reflections QR codes throughout the booklet to email your thoughts to us. Then visit us www.austinseminary.edu/advent where we will update reader comments each week during this holy season.

Advent and Christmas Tide Greetings from the Board of Trustees of Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary Keatan A. King, Chair Lee Ardell Kelley Cooper Cameron Gregory Lee Cuéllar Thomas Christian Currie James A. DeMent Jill Duffield Britta Martin Dukes Peg Falls-Corbitt Jackson Farrow Jr. Beth Blanton Flowers, M.D.

G. Archer Frierson Jesús Juan González Cyril Hollingsworth Ora Houston Shawn Kang John A. Kenney Steve LeBlanc Sue B. McCoy Matthew Miller Lisa Juica Perkins Denice Nance Pierce

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Mark B. Ramsey Stephen J. Rhoades Sharon Risher Pamela Rivera Conrad M. Rocha Ken Snodgrass John L. Van Osdall Michael Waschevski Sallie Watson Elizabeth C. Williams Michael G. Wright

Scan here for the video introduction from Professor Lord.

The Rev. Dr. Jennifer L. Lord The Dorothy B. Vickery Professor of Homiletics and Liturgical Studies


Sunday, December 3, 2023 I Corinthians 1:3-9 Dr. Rodney A. Caruthers II Assistant Professor of New Testament Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth begins with a salutation that raises the believer’s awareness of their new status and purpose. The community members are first reminded of their selected and sanctified condition in their Messianic Lord. Paul’s expression of “thanks” (eucharisteō) signals what God has conferred to them and what they were responsible for. The duality of God’s favor/grace (charis) toward the believer is also shown. His grace (forgiveness and salvation through belief in Jesus of Nazareth) is intended to be individually and collectively transformative and not merely an emblem of heavenly empathy. The saint should recognize and be motivated by the benefits of divine grace and what they entail. God’s grace is expected to elicit tangible or measurable gratitude. Paul makes this explicit when he explains the effect God’s grace has on enhancing the believer (5-6). Saints are enriched (ploutizō) in their speech (logos) and knowledge (gnōsis). Their testimony or witness (martyrion) also undergoes strengthening (bebaioō). The precise process of enhancement, however, is not directly explained but perhaps implied. The implication is that the sanctified believer intentionally positions him/herself for progressive improvement instead of suddenly or supernaturally. The grateful response to divine grace is reflected in the connection between words, knowledge, and witness. Words denote not only the content of speech (e.g., edifying versus antagonistic) but the way they are communicated (e.g., thoughtfully versus abrasively). Knowledge is not only the accumulation of information but understanding what to do, how to implement it, and when to apply it (i.e., exercising prudence). The cultivation of one’s words (speech) and knowledge can lead to a more mature and convincing witness, as opposed to a naïve or insensitive one. The salutation’s close offers additional points of encouragement (8-9). First, while awaiting the revelation of Jesus, the saints do not have to strive on their own because God will provide the necessary strength. Second, the short phrase “God is faithful” (pistos ho theos) emphasizes God’s trustworthiness to those who align themselves to receive and respond to grace. In this season of Advent, may God’s gracious gift also prompt us to extend beyond personal reflection into a dynamic testimony.

Monday, December 4 I Corinthians 1:3-9 Rev. Crystal Silva-McCormick Visiting Instructor in Evangelism and Missions There’s a bench made of stone next to a bustling access road. The bench isn’t covered by shade. It sits on the corner of a parking lot, so close to the road that if you sat on it, you would most certainly feel the whoosh of the cars passing by.

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Many mornings this past summer, I’d see an unsheltered neighbor sleeping on that very bench. They slept on that bench, a makeshift bed, waiting for the nearby stores to open— waiting for an opportunity to escape the brutal summer heat, use the restroom, and get some cold water. I knew that their sleep on that stone bench was also a period of waiting for the morning to come and wake them. But, in the heat of the summer, their waiting was filled with dread because those summer days would gift them unbearable heat and no respite from the oppressive sun. Many of us experience different types of waiting. We wait in lines; we wait in traffic. Most of us wait for the morning to greet us from the comfort of a bed and a home that shelters us from the elements. Thus, as we enter this season of Advent, we are reminded of yet another type of waiting. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul reminds us that we are to eagerly await Christ’s second coming, which he refers to as “the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” So, as we enter this season, reminded that we are to eagerly await Christ’s return—the restoration of all things—we must remember that not everyone’s waiting is the same. In fact, this is part of that “eager” waiting, for eager waiting entails actively doing the work of the gospel until Christ returns and makes all things whole. This Advent, may we await the day of our Lord with eager expectation, doing the work of undoing the injustices that forced our neighbor to have a bench for a bed. In other words, may we do the work of making everyone’s waiting the same.

Tuesday, December 5 I Corinthians 1:3-9 Rev. Patricia Bonilla Instructor in Christian Education A greeting of grace and peace from God through Jesus Christ in union with the Holy Spirit is the salutation that Paul offers to the church in Corinth. It is a reminder to his congregation that the triune God must be at the center of their ministry no matter the struggles or divisions they face. As a scholar in Christian education, I am often asked, “What can we do to attract more families to our Sunday school?” “How do we get more youth to participate in the programs we offer?” “How do we encourage church members to participate in Bible studies and small groups?” “How do we get more people to come to church?” These are all valid questions and important ones. But, for me, the questions that center my ministry are “How are we living into God’s call to discipleship? How do we follow Jesus in our everyday life? How do we teach and embody radical love for the transformation of the world?” In Paul’s letter to the church of Corinth, he first acknowledges his audience, meeting them where they are in their faith journey. He gives thanks for them and reminds them that God is at the center of their mission and their vision, a vision that includes a radical manifestation of God’s love in community. The task of Christian education is

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to point to God. Paul reminds the people of Corinth that all knowledge and spiritual gifts come from God. Religious education in the Christian tradition is about critical engagement with the gospel and calls us into deep relationship with God and each other. It is a journey that involves a life-long commitment. Our education ministry is also about forming courageous leaders in the way of Jesus Christ. An important task of Christian religious education is to help people of all ages think critically and creatively about their faith. Christian education is about opening our minds and expanding our knowledge of God so that we may also open our hearts to each other more fully. Too often, though, Christian education is limited to the memorization of Bible verses, learning songs, and doing crafts. It can be this, but it is so much more. Christian education is about searching for God beyond our ignorance and prejudice and learning to love the world deeply, with compassion and mercy. Our educational ministries are a means for us to learn to be instruments of God’s love, justice, and healing power in the world.

Paul reminds his congregation that the triune God must be at the center of their ministry no matter the struggles or divisions they face. Wednesday, December 6 I Corinthians 1:3-9

Grace to you and peace. If this were email, the subject line might read “Paul: Grace and Peace” yet it is God’s grace and peace, not his own, that Paul hands on. So that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait, he writes. Paul’s letter had a slower travel time than we know today; but whether letter, email, or instant message, Paul, knowing that waiting is not quick, writes of a kind of equipping: being strengthened, not lacking in gifts. Being equipped for ministry—for the whole life of faith—is, in a sense, being equipped for waiting and patience, for what can feel like an utterly slow transformation. In Chapter 12 of this same letter to the Corinthians, Paul will pass on yet another gift from God: For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you.” In Advent-Christmas-Epiphany, in Lent-Easter, and at all times, the gift offered to us: the gift of grace and peace and strength and knowledge which is the Self of God. The hymn “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” is rooted in a set of prayers (the “O Antiphons”) for the culmination of Advent, but the hymn is often a sung entry into this season. In its seven stanzas (Glory to God, Hymn 88), we sing our prayer for holy gifts: Wisdom, Key, Dayspring, and the Desire that will “fill the whole world with heaven’s peace.” Perhaps Paul’s letter and this hymn are helping to hand on holy gifts: Wisdom, Key, Desire, Grace, Peace, Strength, and Self: “God with us.” Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 5

Scan here to hear Professor Wall play the music referenced in his remarks.

Mr. Eric Wall Gene Alice Sherman Associate Professor of Sacred Music, Dean of the Chapel


Thursday, December 7 I Corinthians 1:3-9 Rev. Dr. Carolyn B. Helsel Associate Professor in the Blair Monie Distinguished Chair of Homiletics Paul’s beginning to this letter points us to gratitude. Words like “grace” and “thanks,” “enriched” and “gift” are words that invite us to reflect on things that are outside of us, evoking in us an attitude of gratitude. Paul knows something of the feeling of gratitude. As a missionary to the gentiles, he had been invited to play a leading role in sharing the messianic vision of Jesus, the Son of God. Even though he had previously persecuted followers of the Way, God had selected him for this wondrous calling. Just as Paul speaks of the Corinthians being enriched in speech and knowledge, so, too, was Paul strengthened to do this important work. Gratitude toward the Corinthians was an extension of Paul’s own gratitude for the power of God at work in his own life. We know something, too, of how powerful gratitude can be in our own lives. Psychologists and behavioral scientists have studied the positive impact that a daily practice of gratitude can have on human health and mood. Saying thank you to the people in your workplace or the barista who makes your morning coffee can boost the positive chemicals in your brain— both in you and in the person you are thanking. Being thankful is literally good for all of us! The Advent season can often feel like a rush of gift-buying for loved ones, when preparing for the coming of Christ may mean practicing other forms of gratitude. Rather than letting gift-giving be the focus of the holiday season, try expressing your gratitude for your loved ones in words. Write letters of thanks, naming the spiritual gifts you have received from those closest to you. In that spirit of gratitude, you may be emulating the gratitude of Paul, able to see that every good gift comes from God.

Friday, December 8 I Corinthians 1:3-9

Question for Personal Reflection: Promises made; promises kept—sometimes. In our lives, we can easily recall times when promises were broken and seemingly trustworthy people proved to be unreliable. And sadly, we can recall times when we did not prove trustworthy. How does the promise of God’s steadfastness that Paul voices give you hope? How does the promise inspire you to use your spiritual gifts? Prayer: O God, we give you thanks for the grace revealed to us in Christ Jesus through the preaching of the gospel. We thank you for giving each of us spiritual gifts that will endure as we await the coming of Christ. In this Advent season, stir up in us a desire for communion with your Son and our fellow Christians so that, assured of your boundless love, we do not grow weary of speaking and acting as light and salt in this world. We ask these things through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 6 . Reflections on the Season of Advent 2023

Scan here to send in your personal reflections.

Rev. Dr. Timothy D. Lincoln Assistant Dean for Institutional Effectiveness, Director of the Library, Research Professor in Theological Education


Saturday, December 9 I Corinthians 1:3-9 Rev. Dr. Jennifer L. Lord The Dorothy B. Vickery Professor of Homiletics and Liturgical Studies This Advent, many of us will once again watch or participate in lighting the candles of our congregation’s Advent wreath. Our wreaths hold four candles, one for each Sunday of Advent. Sometimes, three of the candles are purple, signifying the older use of the penitential color purple for Advent since Advent always involves confessing how we and the world do not yet live according to God’s love. Our wreaths may have one rose-colored candle. It is for the third Sunday of Advent, continuing an old tradition that calls this Sunday Gaudete (Rejoice!) Sunday. Sometimes the candles are a plain color like the tan of beeswax. The wreath is a visible sign of our movement through the weeks of Advent. It is a sign of waiting and expectation. Its lighting is accompanied by scripture readings about God’s advent (coming, arrival). It is a clear countdown to our yearly commemoration of the birth of Christ. But it also invokes a second layer of meaning as we wait for the time when all will be done according to God’s loving will. Even as we watch the light grow over the four weeks of Advent we know we are still waiting for the final consummation of God’s reign. Scripture says that “he will strengthen you to the end” (v 8). As we watch the incremental increase of wreath-light, we can trust that God is likewise increasing us in strength. This is not physical strength, rather, it is a strength that comes from finding our true life in God’s love.

Sunday, December 10 Isaiah 40:1-11 Rev. Dr. Gregory L. Cuéllar Associate Professorof Old Testament As I closely watch the movements of birds, fish, and insects, I discover nature’s story about the migration of living beings. What I find striking in this story is the freedom of movement that living creatures innately enjoy. And yet, nature might ask us, Why are some humans and animals unable to move freely in the worlds we create? In Isaiah 40, also known as Second Isaiah, the 6th-century prophet begins his address to the exiled Judeans. Starting in verse 1, healing care sets the tone: “Comfort, O comfort my people.” This care mission also extends to Lady Jerusalem. Then, in verse 3, we encounter a bold voice issuing a command that a migratory pathway be made in the desert for God and the Judean exiles. Their destination was Jerusalem/Mother Zion. Another feature of God’s comforting care was to choreograph an extraordinary transformation of a terrain that was majestic and yet dangerous for human migration. In verse 4, God set the scene before the prophet of exile in which opposing elements of the landscape join in a beautiful dance, all for the sake of making the terrain migratable. We Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 7


see vast valleys rising and then far-reaching mountains and hills bowing to meet them. Added to this tectonic ballet are the drumming sounds of rubble gracefully merging to form a level paved pathway for God and the returning exiles. The entire performance ends with all people giving a standing ovation to God, the master choreographer of this dance of care (v 5). Like the creation story in Genesis 1, God speaks a new creation into existence in which the colonized exiles can migrate freely and safely out of empire to a place of shalom. In our passage, nature not only favors migration, but she is proactive in care for the returning Judean migrants.

Monday, December 11 Isaiah 40:1-11 Dr. William Greenway Professor of Philosophical Theology Like “e=mc2,” “God is love” is easy to say, difficult to understand, and yet readily experienced. The binding power of “m=e/c2” is experienced in the solidity of every table. The binding power of “God is love” is experienced in our joy over a child squealing with delight amidst snowflakes or in our horror when they scream from abuse. The passionate concern that arouses joy in one context and horror in another is not eros or philia, not kinship or reciprocal altruism, and not a willed response. No, the palpable, passionate concern—“agape,” “hesed,” “meitrī,” “ren”—is God insofar as God is love. One might harden one’s heart, but insofar as one lives life faithful to agape, to God, one follows a “straight highway” in a crooked world. As the lives of John the Baptist, Jesus (agape incarnate), and Paul, among a host of martyred prophets, disciples, and saints make clear, fidelity to agape can result in worldly persecution. But persecution, even to death, need not defeat agape, which is all the more manifest in our moral horror over persecution. Isaiah is consumed by agape in these poignant verses. Writing to oppressed, dominated people, he sounds like an existential nihilist—“All flesh is grass,” “the grass withers”— but while he is alive to the surfeit of injustice and suffering in this vale of tears, he is consumed not by narcissistic despair but by moral horror which is the fruit of agape, the transcending, gracious love which endures, the passion which is the Spirit of God incarnate in this world. Isaiah seeks to awaken all to the gift of agape, to the comfort of the gracious love of God, so that even as worldly woes continue, we might “renew our strength” and “mount up with wings like eagles” (v 31). Final note, agape vivifies our lives when we give the love we first receive—herein the true Spirit of an apt season of giving.

Like “e=mc2,” “God is love” is easy to say, difficult to understand, and yet readily experienced.

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Tuesday, December 12 Isaiah 40:1-11 Rev. Dr. David F. White C. Ellis and Nancy Gribble Nelson Professor Emeritus of Christian Education Erik Erikson once identified a crucial role for parents as providing children a safe and caring environment so they may develop a “basic sense of trust.” If parents earn the trust of their children, their children assume the world is trustworthy. This lays the foundation for children to enact their own agency, develop esteem, form relationships and attachments, and express emotion. Without this sense of trust, they are likely to withdraw, become passive, depressed, and lonely. Isaiah 40 was written while the Jews were captive in Babylon, having endured enormous suffering—having been killed or conquered by the Assyrians, force-marched across the desert, losing their wealth and families and their sense of identity. Their suffering was so great and so prolonged—around seventy years, the span of a human life—that those who were still alive were forgetting the promise of God’s covenant or assuming they had been forgotten by God. Amid Israel’s suffering and forgetfulness, the prophet declares, “Comfort, comfort my people … Speak tenderly to Jerusalem … He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart.” The prophet reminds Israel they are God’s people to whom God has promised good. Without this sense of identity, they risk becoming like a child who lacks a basic sense of trust, sense of esteem, agency, and relationality. As receivers of God’s tender comfort, we are changed into “those whom God loves tenderly,” an identity that casts its glow on all our encounters. The prophet does not instill comfort or trust by providing more information, but by using powerful poetic images, such as a shepherd “gathering lambs and carrying them close to his heart.” For Christians, the church’s ministry of education cannot rely on mere information alone. If we think, as the prophet did, that a covenant of trust in God is fundamental to who we are, then we should consider using artful forms and images that evoke desire and delight in our teaching.

Wednesday, December 13 Isaiah 40:1-11 Mr. Eric Wall Gene Alice Sherman Associate Professor of Sacred Music, Dean of the Chapel If you hum, sing, or play the hymn-tune HYFRYDOL, or listen to it here, alongside this Isaiah reading, you might find that the two have a similar kind of rise-and-fall. The tune’s beginning (any tune’s beginning if it is familiar or well-loved) might suggest comfort. The higher notes might echo Isaiah: a voice cries out, [the mouth of the Lord has spoken. In the contrasting third phrase, we might hear the questioning in the next words of Isaiah:] What shall I cry? Surely the people are grass. And the tune’s highest, most expansive phrase Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 9


Biblical texts do indeed sing. If you were asked not to “hum HYFRYDOL” but to sing or think of “Love divine, all loves excelling, joy of heaven to earth come down,” you might hear the music even more immediately. Words are often aloft on hymn-tunes, just as a chapter like Isaiah 40 seems to be soaring as we read it. Charles Wesley was, of course, not writing about Isaiah 40. Or was he? Jesus, thou art all compassion; pure, unbounded love thou art; visit us with thy salvation; enter every trembling heart. Do we hear the first two verses of this chapter in the stanza above? Do we hear the echoes elsewhere? Breathe, o breathe thy loving Spirit into every troubled breast “The grass withers when the breath of the Lord blows upon it … but the word of our God will stand forever.” Suddenly return and never, nevermore thy temples leave “Say to the cities of Judah, ‘Here is your God!’” Lost in wonder, love, and praise “The glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together.” Are Isaiah and Wesley making the same prayer? Visit us.

Thursday, December 14 Isaiah 40:1-11 Dr. David H. Jensen Professor in the Clarence N. and Betty B. Frierson Distinguished Chair of Reformed Theology This stunning passage, etched in our collective memory thanks to Handel’s “Messiah,” begins with words of comfort. What is comfort? For many, especially in our age of relative prosperity, the word connotes ease, even luxury: creature comforts such as a large bed, a sumptuous meal, or dangling our feet in tropical waters that lap against us. Those experiences certainly sound comfortable. Another version of comfort is common in our time: the temporary comfort that we might experience when our opponents get their comeuppance. In our polarized climate, we have been taught to root for our enemies’ demise, longing for them to reap what they deserve. Isaiah speaks amid the painful experience of exile and suffering at the hands of a foreign power. Many Israelites in this context, I imagine, would have longed for their oppressors to get their just deserts. But the comfort Isaiah promises is not the false comfort of seeing one’s enemies suffer. Instead, comfort comes from knowing that God will not let go of God’s people. This serves as a potent reminder in our day. Comfort, ultimately, comes not when we seek our own gratification or others’ demise. God offers comfort by sustaining us through arduous journeys, by gathering alienated children together like a shepherd who will “gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom.” Comfort comes as 10 . Reflections on the Season of Advent 2023

Scan here to hear Professor Wall play the music referenced in his remarks.

comes near the end, like the herald is bidden to get to a high place and lift up a voice.


we take part in God’s gathering of people—exiles, strangers, friends, and enemies—so that we might flourish together. To be sure, we have not yet arrived at this place of true comfort. In the meantime, there is struggle, pain, and our estrangement from each other. But we catch glimpses of it in acts of reconciliation, forgiveness, and justice now. The Shepherd we await in this season gives new meaning to comfort.

Friday, December 15 Isaiah 40:1-11 Rev. Dr. Sarah D. Allen Director of Ministerial Formation and Advanced Studies

In verse 11, Isaiah says, “God will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms and carry them in his bosom and gently lead the mother sheep.” Feed, gather, carry, lead. God promises to comfort and sustain us in these ways: by nourishing us in body and spirit, gathering us close to her loving presence, carrying us in times of sorrow and pain, and leading us in the way of abundant love. Perhaps in this Advent season, you need nourishment for your spirit. Perhaps you long to be drawn closer into the loving embrace of God. Question for Personal Reflection: Perhaps God is gently leading you into a new way of faithful service. As you walk with God deeper into the Advent season, I invite you to notice the way God feeds, gathers, carries, and leads you in the way of abundant love. Prayer: Good Shepherd, Gather us in your loving arms; lead us into the way of love; feed us with the bread of life and carry us close to your heart. Amen.

Saturday, December 16 Isaiah 40:1-11 Rev. Dr. Jennifer L. Lord The Dorothy B. Vickery Professor of Homiletics and Liturgical Studies Deep purple colors signify a penitential season in the church. During Lent the paraments (fabrics adorning table and pulpit) and stoles (worn by ministers, priests, deacons, and sometimes choirs) are purple or another soft or subdued color. Many churches continue to use purple for Advent, emphasizing that waiting for Christ’s coming involves our repentance. We repent of all the ways we do not believe that God loves us; we repent of all the ways that we do not trust God’s vulnerable love to challenge the powers and Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 11

Scan here to send in your personal reflections.

When have you been carried in the tender arms of your Creator?


principalities of this world; we repent of all the ways we do not live according to God’s radical love. We welcome Advent as a season of repentance alongside the ways we watch and wait for God’s arrival. Some churches use a deep blue color during Advent. This is meant to distinguish between the seasons of Lent and Advent. And to emphasize Advent hope. The more somber blue hue suggests that Advent hope takes seriously the reality of suffering and sin. This is the truthful paradox of Isaiah’s text. The prophet announces comfort to the people. It is not an announcement of comfort that ignores the deep suffering and waywardness of God’s people and simply adds basic positivity. Instead, Isaiah’s prophetic cry announcing God’s redemptive comfort speaks “tenderly” to the people, acknowledging that they have paid their penalty and served their term. “Here is your God!” (v 9b) The colors of Advent are meant to surround us, even embrace us with the paradox of this season: despite our waywardness, despite our abject sin, despite our disbelief in God’s radically loving presence and purposes, God continues to pursue us, “He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom” (v 11).

Mary’s song can bring to mind Hannah’s song and so we include this reflection, too.

Sunday, December 17 1 Samuel 2:1-10 Dr. Song-Mi Park Associate Professor of Old Testament It can feel wrong to blame God when things go badly. Yet this song in 1 Samuel 2:110, attributed to Hannah on the dedication of her son, Samuel, seems to do just that. Samuel is a famous prophet who anoints both Saul and David as Israel’s first kings. In this song, Hannah celebrates both God’s positive and negative “aspects” as the one who “sends poverty and wealth,” “brings death and makes alive,” and “humbles and exalts.” Only such a God—one in charge of all things, both good and bad—can bring about the dramatic ups and downs that people sometimes hope for and, indeed, mark most lives. Hannah’s life is paradigmatic of the dramatic reversals she sings about. In the space of two chapters (1 Sam 1-2), Hannah swings from struggling with infertility to becoming a mother of six! Hannah is a prime example and beneficiary of God’s ability to turn things around. This focus on the double-sided nature of God also makes sense textually. Many scholars posit that the story about Samuel in the first three chapters of 1 Samuel was not originally about Samuel at all. Rather, these stories were likely originally about Saul—the poor, doomed first king of Israel who is dethroned by David. When Saul is usurped by David, the winner rewrote (or, in this case, erased and replaced!) the stories about the loser. Therefore, not only does this poem celebrate divinely ordained reversals, but itself constitutes—is a product of—such a reversal. In its complexity, this song therefore highlights and wonders in awe at the precariousness of life, one which can be upended in the blink of an eye, and also at the God in charge of it all. 12 . Reflections on the Season of Advent 2023


Monday, December 18 Luke 1:46b-55 Dr. David H. Jensen Professor in the Clarence N. and Betty B. Frierson Distinguished Chair of Reformed Theology As part of a Seminary travel seminar in January 2023, I visited Israel-Palestine for the first time. On the first day of the trip, we visited Ein Karem and the Church of the Visitation, the traditional site of Mary’s proclamation of the Magnificat. Perhaps the visit really happened here; perhaps it didn’t. Though it lies within the boundaries of modern Jerusalem, Ein Karem resembles a small mountain village: surrounded by hills, olive groves, and forest, one can easily imagine oneself in another century. It is certainly an inspiring place to imagine Mary’s words. Ein Karem, like most of the Holy Land, is a beautiful and complicated place. During New Testament times, it was a small Jewish settlement; in later centuries of Ottoman rule, it became a Palestinian Arab village; after the establishment of the modern state of Israel, it became Jewish again and is now a hub for artists. The village has changed hands often, sometimes by force. But it remains a fount of creativity even today. On a wall in the courtyard of the Church of the Visitation are verses of the Magnificat etched in forty-two languages. Each translation is framed by ceramic tiles: words that proclaim God’s justice, overturning hierarchies, uplifting the poor, and feeding the hungry. These are words that don’t belong to any one language. As the church so vividly exhibits them, these words belong to the world. And yet there is nowhere where these words are fully realized—not in Ein Karem, not in Austin, not in Rome. The One we await, however, promises that these words are more than a pipe dream. They express what it means to be a follower of Jesus. As we await Him, may we be gathered into this work of new creation— in Ein Karem and everywhere else.

Tuesday, December 19 Luke 1:46b-55 Dr. Andrew Zirschky Director of the Master of Arts in Youth Ministry program and Research Professor in Youth Ministry Christian education primarily involves the shaping of identity, influencing how individuals perceive themselves and their position within the broader world, all within the context of faith. Recent research by neuroscientists like Antonio Damasio and psychologists like Dan McAdams defines identity as a self-narrative woven from past experiences and anticipated futures in order to make sense of our present reality. Put another way, our life is a story, and the story we believe about ourselves influences our interpretation of past events, future decisions, and present life. Luke 1:46-55 offers us profound insight into the narrative identity from which Mary lived. Her personal story weaves together God’s past faithfulness to God’s people with the anticipated future of God’s promises to “Abraham and his descendants forever.” Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 13


She locates herself within this rich narrative and consequently interprets her personal circumstances within its larger flow. This is what empowers teenage Mary to welcome the angel’s message with profound serenity. Mary’s faith is the kind we should all seek, but too often, I encounter folks who believe that mere Bible knowledge is the way to get there. While knowing the Bible is valuable, Mary’s song wasn’t inspired by rote memory. Rather, she had come to see her life within the vast narrative of God’s unwavering promise. Christian education and formation happens when we are integrated into God’s community story, aligning our individual identity with the collective past and future of God’s people; our individual past becoming interpreted by God’s history, and our dreams for the future becoming shaped by God’s promises. This results in seeing our present circumstances and identity through a lens of faith, which mirrors Mary’s understanding that our stories, no matter how small, are part of God’s epic tale of faithfulness.

Wednesday, December 20 Luke 1:46b-55 Rev. Patricia Bonilla Instructor in Christian Education Mary’s “Magnificat” is a song of praise for all the great things God has done, is doing, and will continue to do. And it is also a radical song of protest and resistance. After learning of her pregnancy, Mary visits her cousin Elizabeth who assures her that she is “blessed among women, and blessed is the fruit of her womb.” Mary’s situation is precarious, to say the least, and yet, in the midst of uncertainty and despair, Mary’s response is to praise God and rejoice in God’s saving grace. The blessing and assurance that Elizabeth offers Mary is exactly what she needs so that she can face the challenges that she most certainly knows are coming. Those who work with youth or young adults in the church know that it is a period in these young people’s lives when so much is happening. They are learning to become independent, discerning their next steps after high school or college, and figuring out how to live out their call in the world. A blessing and words of assurance go so much farther than we give them credit for. I recall a youth group gathering where students were asked to affirm each other’s gifts and offer words of encouragement for one another as they shared their plans after high school graduation. One student was in tears after sharing his plans and being affirmed by the group. He said he had spent many months doubting that he was capable of accomplishing his goals and was feeling inadequate and fearful upon becoming a first-generation collegebound student. The encouragement from his peers, he said, was the first time he felt assured in his decision and that he was not alone. He had a community he could lean on. How do our Christian education programs help congregations build community? How do they respond to the challenges their communities face? Mary, in her Magnificat, is able to sing God’s praises and still protest against the injustices that put her in a precarious situation. She is a woman from a marginalized group who is about to be a mother and 14 . Reflections on the Season of Advent 2023


living under occupation. And yet she is assured by her kinswoman that she is not alone and that God indeed has a plan for her. The inclusiveness of God’s mercy knows no bounds. What God has done in Christ, God has done for all people. Mary’s words of praise speak of God’s redeeming work in the world already underway in the child she is to birth. May this Advent season be a reminder that God’s redeeming grace is radically inclusive and communal.

Thursday, December 21 Luke 1:46b-55

Last March, a senior here at Austin Seminary preached from the first chapter of Luke: The Annunciation, when Mary is visited by an angel. The liturgical year locates that story in Advent, as we know, but also, as we should expect, in March: nine months before Christmas. Mary’s world—and the whole world—is upended, and Mary responds with what we call the “Song of Mary” or “Magnificat.” For her it is a faith utterance, not a canonized text. The last words are “to Abraham and to his descendants forever,” and the Magnificat has indeed traveled through time, clothed in music and liturgy, summoning justice work, confirming hopes beyond what we can see. Mary says-sings-shouts a poemsong-prophecy-manifesto, and descendants have sung, re-sung, and re-imagined it, from serene Evensong to foot-stomping folk tunes. Nine months pass, and angels return with a different song: Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth—story and song sung, re-sung, re-imagined, “to descendants forever.” Mary’s song and the angels’ song frame a holy pregnancy, when Mary is great with child so that the world might be great with child. Two glorious songs of old, still coming to us with wings unfurled. When Edmund Sears wrote a poem called It Came Upon the Midnight Clear, he didn’t write “a Christmas carol.” He, like Mary, responded to angel words, glimpsed revelation, knew the world, and made poetry claiming that that world could be— will be—made different by God’s power. We know “Midnight Clear” to two tunes: NOEL and CAROL. What if we heard those words (like the Magnificat through centuries) to different music, different imaginative spaces? Listen to the Magnificat chanted. Then listen to “Midnight Clear” with five different tunes: poetry and music recalling an angel song and praying for peace on earth.

He, like Mary, responded to angel words, glimpsed revelation, knew the world, and made poetry claiming that that world could be—will be—made different by God’s power.

Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 15

Scan here to hear Professor Wall play the music referenced in his remarks.

Mr. Eric Wall Gene Alice Sherman Associate Professor of Sacred Music, Dean of the Chapel


Friday, December 22 Luke 1:46b-55 Rev. Bobbi Kaye Jones Professor in the Louis H. and Katherine S. Zbinden Distinguished Chair of Pastoral Ministry and Leadership I recently introduced a hymn with these words: while “Amazing Grace” is identified with United Methodists, this next hymn derives directly from our founder, John Wesley, who asked everyone every chance he got. The hymn? “It Is Well.” The question? How is it with your soul?

Mary declares herself. My soul is joyful while amplifying the world-upending, lowlyuplifting, mercy-dispensing activity of God. The strong arm of God is active. Holy be God’s mighty name! Her declaration startles and staggers me. Every year. I look for more evidence of her confidence. Where is it, Mary? I want to see this, too. The scattering, bringing down, lifting up. The filling, coming with aid, even the sending away. Prayer: Oh merciful God, praying authentically and vulnerably right now, I often feel like my gaze does not see, and my spirit does not rejoice at the bold hope the hopeless Mary declares. This Advent, grant me her gaze, her vision, and her joy that I may recognize your mighty and merciful acts occurring all around. Blessed be your name. Amen.

Saturday, December 23 Luke 1:46b-55 Rev. Dr. Jennifer L. Lord The Dorothy B. Vickery Professor of Homiletics and Liturgical Studies All week we have reflected on Mary’s song. This song is called the Magnificat, a shorthand of the Latin translation of the opening verse “My soul magnifies the Lord” (Luke 1:46). According to a shared pattern for reading scripture, the Revised Common Lectionary, Mary’s song is always one of the appointed readings during Advent. This scripture text is a canticle, a biblical song other than a psalm. And anyone who has participated in traditions of morning and evening prayer knows that this canticle, Mary’s song, is not just for Advent; it is for every day of the week all year long. In Western churches (the Roman Catholic church and those that branched from that root) the canticle is appointed for Vespers, Evening Prayer. In Eastern Christianity, it is sung at Matins, Morning Prayer. We could think of the Magnificat as a part of daily prayer in order to revere Mary, the mother of Jesus. And this is true for several churches. Yet every tradition of the church also receives Mary as an example of faith. Her yes to God and this subsequent song glorifying 16 . Reflections on the Season of Advent 2023

Scan here to send in your personal reflections.

Question for Personal Reflection: Friends, how is it with your soul? How would you answer Mr. Wesley this Advent season? Pastors, do you ask this of your flock? Churchfolk, are you checking in on your pastor? How do we respond to such a personal probe with authenticity and vulnerability?


God and anticipating the transformation of the world exemplify the life of faith. Her yes to answering God’s call and her praise of and trust in God is an ongoing example for us all. It is fitting that Mary’s song resounds every Advent: can we again give our yes to God? Whatever our circumstances, do we listen for God’s call? Can we praise God’s holiness? Can we renew our trust that God has (and will) “scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts … brought down the powerful from their thrones … lifted up the lowly … filled the hungry with good things” (vs 51-53)? May our souls magnify the Lord.

Sunday, Christmas Eve James 1:17-18 Rev. Dr. Margaret Aymer Academic Dean and The First Presbyterian Church, Shreveport, D. Thomason Professor of New Testament Studies “Push, Mary! Push!” A worship and music director friend of mine would start chanting this refrain as the Advent days darkened to the holy hush of Christmas Eve. Push! Let’s walk over the threshold into Christmastide with “Merry Christmas” on our lips! Push! Only a few more hours to wrap the last remaining presents and bake the Christmas goodies. Only one more window on the Advent calendar to open! Push, Mary! Push! Soon, we celebrate the birth of God’s son! So much of Advent draws our attention to the birth of Jesus, one child, one fully human, fully divine child, the incarnation of im-anu-El, God with us. But the Letter of James invites us to consider another birth, our birth. James declares that Jesus is not the only child of the living God. We, too, have been born of God, born by the word of truth. We, too, are brought forth by our Divine Progenitor, pushed out into the world as the first fruits of his creatures. James declares that all of God’s good gifts come from above (anōthen). John’s gospel concurs: you must be born from above (anōthen) (John 3:3). Even as we chant our refrains of Push! the world echoes our plea back to us. Push church! Push firstfruits, born of a Mothering God! Push into this world that God created and called good, the world that God so loves. For we are God’s gifts to the world, and God has birthed and sent us forth to do good.

Monday, Christmas Day John 1:1-14 Rev. Keatan A. King Chair, Board of Trustees Associate Pastor of St. Philip Presbyterian, Houston Who among us dares to invite John the Baptist into our homes on Christmas Day? His animal hides clash with our matching pajamas. His message of repentance is out of tune with holly, jolly songs about St. Nick. One imagines him unwilling to accept a cup of coquito or eggnog and a place by the fire. If he who testified to the light of Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 17


Christ came into our homes, we know what he would witness in us. John would find many Christians retreating from the world God so loves and into this day we’ve filled with food, gifts, and leisure. The presence of John on Christmas Day prevents us from merely relishing the exquisite poetry of these verses separate from their radical theological consequences regarding the Incarnation. For in the event through which “the Word became flesh and dwelled among us,” Jesus assumed human pain and poverty, our mortality and our limitations. Adoring Jesus in the manger means engaging the messy world he came to save. Christ’s indwelling in all people and circumstances demands that we vacate convenience if we are to know him and turn toward Christ’s mission to serve the least and the lost. Invited or not, John crashes our celebrations today, much as God enters flesh in Jesus, such that we cannot be the same. God enters flesh today at tables of plenty and want, in families of nurture and strife, and amid nations of safety and violence. John’s witness keeps us honest and ensures that, in the words of Howard Thurman, “the work of Christmas begins: to find the lost, to heal the broken, to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, to rebuild the nations, to bring peace among [kindred], to make music in the heart.”

Tuesday, December 26 Luke 2:1-14 Dr. Donghyun Jeong Assistant Professor of New Testament Luke 2:1–14 is filled with irony. The passage begins with the emperor’s decree that requires everyone to be registered in one’s own town, probably for the purposes of precise taxation and military mobilization. It is through this political decision of a pagan ruler that the divine plan was fulfilled: the messiah was born in David’s town. Another irony is that even if Joseph arrived in his town (v. 6), he could not find a place for his postpartum fiancée and the new-born baby (v. 7). The Davidic messiah, Jesus, found no home in Bethlehem. Luke 2:1–14 also engages in a polemic. The angel’s announcement evokes images used in Roman imperial propaganda. Jesus’s birth, not Caesar’s, is the good news (v. 10). Jesus, not Caesar, is presented as the Savior and the Lord (v. 11), bringing peace to the earth (v. 14). Since the Gospel of Luke was likely written after 70 CE (the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans), the imperial terms for Jesus make a bold point: a descendent of a longlost dynasty (Davidic) of a now-conquered nation (Judea) outshines the Roman emperor. Lastly, Luke 2:1–14 is realistic. The advent of the Lord did not result in the immediate defeat of Caesar. No heavenly fanfare was played around the manger to celebrate the glorious birth. “No divine intervention spares Mary the labor pains, or the fear of the unknown in a first birth and her increasing weakness” (François Bovon, Luke 1 [Fortress, 2002], 85). The birth of the messiah was not broadcast to all the subjects in Caesar’s world, let alone to all the residents of Bethlehem. It was heard only by a few shepherds in the fields. The good news, wrapped in clothes (v. 7), is intended for all but not always apparent to all. It requires our faithful witnessing (vv. 17, 20). 18 . Reflections on the Season of Advent 2023


Wednesday, December 27 Luke 2:1-14 Dr. Ángel J. Gallardo Assistant Professor of Church History The second chapter of Luke’s gospel portrays a vulnerable scene. In this passage, we find Joseph and an expecting Mary embarking on an arduous 120-mile journey from Galilee to Bethlehem. By the time they arrive in Judea, the child in Mary’s womb is ready to enter the world. The couple desperately needs a safe place for the night. Likely filled with fear and desperation, Joseph and Mary request a room at the inn. But their pleas seem to have fallen on deaf ears. Rather than making room for the needy strangers, the innkeepers stick to the rules and turn them away. As a result, Mary is forced to deliver Jesus in a manger. The Messiah enters the world in unsanitary conditions meant for barn animals. From birth, Jesus existed in a vulnerable state. Under careful consideration, the innkeepers’ actions raise a perennial question. When faced with the opportunity to opt for the marginalized, will you demonstrate compassion or opt for convenience? Will you side with those in need or choose to only serve those with means? This question lingers with every generation. May the poor and the oppressed find room in our hearts, homes, and institutions, especially in this Advent season.

Thursday, December 28 Luke 2:1-14 Rev. Bobbi Kaye Jones Professor in the Louis H. and Katherine S. Zbinden Distinguished Chair of Pastoral Ministry and Leadership All the world/two people. A decreed journey/an untimely birth. Terror of the shepherds/ reassurance of the angel. A humble manger/an extravagant multitude. Sentence by sentence, this familiar passage swings our focus from macro to micro and back again. Comparisons and contrasts. The demands of a despot/the inadequacy of an inn. Highest heaven/and on earth. And on earth is where we live, beloveds. Merry Christmas! During the twelve days of Christmas, pastors often hope for family time and most folks assess the state of their homes post-celebrations. We approach an ending and look toward a beginning, considering the comparisons/contrasts of our own lives. I write in late August from my daughter’s San Diego living room as (a rare) Hurricane Hillary swirls outside the window. Tomorrow I fly home to Austin into another excessive heat warning! Re-reading Luke, I am compelled by the contrasts. I feel this swinging as gaps widen and divides deepen. I see the rich acquiring more while the refugee’s few possessions slip away. This swinging makes me dizzy and, yes, sometimes afraid. “Do not be afraid,” said the angel. “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.” Good news. Great joy. What gifts! Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 19


Did you know that in some Christian traditions, the third day of Christmas is the Feast of St. John, the Apostle described as the one “whom Jesus loved.” “Jesus Christ is the love of God,” wrote Dietrich Bonhoeffer from prison during World War II. “The love of God become human for all; hence he is not a preacher of abstract ethical ideologies, but the concrete executor of the love of God.” Executors ensure that wishes are carried out. Executors are a steady hand in an unsteady time. While we may be swept up in the swing of our own lives and of those in the world around us, another Apostle reminds us, “Love never fails.” Yes, we passengers on spaceship Earth fail each other and ourselves. Yet if God has loved us so concretely, we can love each other better. The every day gift of Christmas.

Friday, December 29 Luke 2:1-14 Rev. Dr. David F. White C. Ellis and Nancy Gribble Nelson Professor Emeritus of Christian Education Jesus’s birth narrative in the gospel of Luke seems at first glance a straightforward account told to children and performed in bathrobes, but within these few verses, meanings are compressed such that scholars spend entire lifetimes unpacking its mystery. Most of us have heard Luke’s birth narrative preached or told so often that its meanings have lost texture. If we believe the Bible is a living text, then resources of art and drama can help to restore its wonder. If the consensus of theologians is that Christ reconciles and redeems all things, then Luke’s birth account specifies the players in this cosmic drama and gestures to their eternal stakes. Bibliodrama, a dramatic approach to Christian education, invites students to identify with specific characters—God, Emperor Augustus, Mary and Joseph, the angels, shepherds and their sheep, the innkeepers, inanimate objects such as the star or the manger—to role play the birth story. In “workshopping” their character, the students collaborate in asking such questions about their characters, such as: Who is this character? How do we imagine their life? What do they want? How might they relate to the other characters in the story? What are the fears or conflicts you have and with whom? Who are the enemies and allies in the story? What blocks the action of the story and how is it resolved? In wrestling with these questions, participants create a “spine” for their character from which to speak. Participants get in touch with the feelings, fears, and desires of their character. Finally, they perform scenes and improvise the story in which characters speak to each other. As students debrief, they are better able to respond anew to such questions as: What does the story suggest about where God can be found today? What are better and worse human responses to God? If we believe Christ is key in God’s redemption, then these terms must not be flattened into abstractions. The density of Luke’s account demands that we explore our questions and wrestle with the concreteness of the drama and God’s place in it. 20 . Reflections on the Season of Advent 2023


Saturday, December 30 Luke 2:1-14 Rev. Dr. Jennifer L. Lord The Dorothy B. Vickery Professor of Homiletics and Liturgical Studies Christmas is one of the major holidays, or feasts, of Christianity. In actuality it is a feast that lasts the twelve days, from December 25 through January 5. The carol “The Twelve Days of Christmas” is not about Advent but about each of the days of Christmas. The festal time, celebrating the nativity of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, extends to the day of Epiphany. But it is difficult to keep a feast for one day, let alone twelve. Keeping a feast means prioritizing it in our lives as best we can. Feast keeping for the church includes participating in the worship services, rehearsing for special music and readings, preparing the church spaces with the colors and adornment specific to the celebration, and even gathering for meals and other times of fellowship (like caroling) with the church community. Keeping a feast also can mean festive food and drink at home, visits with friends and loved ones, and, for this feast, gift-giving and receiving. Festal times are busy times and in our increasingly fragmented and busy lives, keeping a feast is difficult. One liturgical scholar wisely said that if we keep the feast then feast will keep us. It’s a pointed way of saying that if we can make choices to prioritize our attention, our time, and our efforts for celebrating Christ’s birth, then this way of meeting and knowing God will grow within us, become a shield protecting us, become like a pillar of cloud and fire leading us at every turn. We discover that the feast keeps us. Will God’s peace be made manifest on earth? This feast proclaims it is so. Can God (whom the angels and heavenly host laud) truly know me and still love me? This feast proclaims it is so. Let us keep the Feast!

Sunday, December 31 Luke 2:1-14 Rev. Dr. Philip Helsel Associate Professor in the Nancy Taylor Williamson Distinguished Chair in Pastoral Care In the Luke text, Joseph returns to his ancestral home as a part of a great imperial census (vs. 4). Maybe he is coming back to a place that has many layers of spiritual meaning for him and his ancestors. It could mean sacred reminiscences, nostalgia, or painful memories. We might wonder if Joseph runs into any of his family members as they return to Bethlehem. What will the gossip be as family gathers with the pregnant and engaged Mary? If we know anything about family reunions, there will certainly be attempts to interpret one another. Some folks will try to force the same family rules on others and some will rehash stories that they always tell. When families are relatively healthy, they leave room for one another’s growth and are able to share experiences together, travelling alongside one another through moments of loss, grief, or transition. Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 21


Mary has her firstborn son—a major transition for any family—in this place in this unfamiliar setting. Just off stage left, the angel proclaims peace to a bunch of weary shepherds. We can imagine Jesus’s family especially needs to hear the message. For this family on the move, peace might have a special meaning as they seek basic needs. Peace in the Bible is not simply the absence of conflict, but it is the presence of right relationship and a re-balancing of power if there has been oppression. Most fundamentally, peace does not mean denial but realistically facing what has been going on together. Peace focuses on the flourishing of each person—what do they need to thrive and survive—and it copes with the new realities that life throws your way with some sense of optimism. Joseph and Mary will find their way to a different family than their own, seeking to honor God’s special work.

Monday, January 1, 2024 Luke 2:1-14 Mr. Eric Wall Gene Alice Sherman Associate Professor of Sacred Music, Dean of the Chapel A text: Luke 2:1-14. Two songs: “Noche de paz” and “Behold the Star.”

One detail is the absolute silence in which Linus walks to and from his place of proclamation—the center of the school auditorium stage. It’s amazingly artistic: comicstrip-simple animation and—crucially—silence. No sound-effects for realism and no music dictating a mood—just Linus’s silent steps. Another detail is that, before reciting Luke, Linus speaks into the space: “Lights, please.” Who is he talking to? Who hears? Who responds? Somebody does—somebody who seems to be waiting and ready for the moment when need arises, because other lights dim and one bright spotlight emerges for storytelling. Lights, please. It is an Epiphany prayer; it is every Prayer for Illumination. Two songs: Noche de paz (Santo Santo Santo 83) and Behold the Star (African American Heritage Hymnal 216). “Night of peace, night of love” sings the first—a silence of peace and love, like Linus’s silent and loving steps amid a throng of bullies. Behold the Star is a spiritual, arising from enslaved communities: “Behold the star up yonder: it is the star of Bethlehem.” Like other songs in the Advent-Christmas-Epiphany triptych, these songs sound within silence. They pray for peace. They imagine love. Lights, please. Brilla la estrella de paz—the star of love is shining. Behold the star: it is the star of Bethlehem.

22 . Reflections on the Season of Advent 2023

Scan here to hear Professor Wall play the music referenced in his remarks.

And a television special, A Charlie Brown Christmas—perhaps as close to holy as anything television has ever done. Like Paul passing on what he receives, this episode passed Luke 2 on to many of us. At the moment when Linus recites the gospel story (“What Christmas is all about”), there are two details, small and powerful.


Tuesday, January 2 Luke 2:1-14 Dr. Asante U. Todd Associate Professor of Christian Ethics Luke’s account of Jesus’s birth is Luke’s attempt to get Jesus’s story straight, but the queerness of the circumstances surrounding Jesus’s birth make Luke’s task impossible. The narrative stands on the precipice of dissolution into chaos. Jesus’s parents came up from Nazareth, but Jesus was born in Bethlehem. Jesus is in the line of David, but through wedlock rather than marriage. Jesus is born in Bethlehem, but among animals rather than citizens or even outcasts. This “story” is really more of a series of coordinated acts, and the manner of coordination can hardly be described as mechanical. The account certainly betrays a narrative of ascent, moving from the initial imperial call for census to the conflict-ridden circumstances surrounding Jesus’s birth, finally climaxing in the rejoicing of the shepherds and the angels in the fields. But beyond this, the coordinated movements of divine and creaturely interaction may be described as musical. In this register, the narrative of ascent sounds forth as a harmonic progression from the first note of a triad to the final, or, in African American perspective, from the first note to the blue note, where God “blues” the note of the gods by dwelling among men as a “minor interval” rather than as a major one. God works through rhythm, too. For example, in Mary’s participation in the repetitive process of conception and delivery, and in the shepherds’ patterns of watching and resting. In one sense, these rhythms operate like the ostinato characteristic of the Negro Spirituals, whose repetitive cycles give rise to the necessary steadying pulsebeats of life. Yet, as is also the case with the spiritual and with all Black music, these cycles also create the opportunity for novelty, spontaneity, and divine creature improvisation as all respond to the polyrhythmic call of the divine in freedom. Prayer: O God of heavenly hosts, Luke’s story shows us that the story of your good news is, in the final analysis, a joyous song, one brought forth by cosmic collaboration of divine and creaturely chorus and creation. This song is not made without painful moments of sorrow, but we can testify that it remains, in the end, sweet music nonetheless. Grant our spirits a musical ear that we may hear the call of your new song and respond in proper time and tone. Give us the understanding to know that we cannot make good music alone. Grant us the spirit to bear witness to your song in our own flight of freedom’s melody. To God be the glory for the things that he has done. In the beginning, God said the rhythm and the rhythm went boom. Amen.

Give us the understanding to know that we cannot make good music alone. Grant us the spirit to bear witness to your song in our own flight of freedom’s melody.

Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 23


Wednesday, January 3 Luke 2:1-14 Rev. Crystal Silva-McCormick Visiting Instructor in Evangelism and Missions Have you ever experienced “opposite day?” Some classrooms for small children have this type of day to teach children their opposites. A lot of learning and laughter ensues when up is down, down is up, left is right, right is left, and so on. The angel’s announcement in this passage from Luke is almost like a declaration that opposite day has arrived. After all, that a baby born in a place fit for animals to a family without status or stature would be designated the Messiah is the opposite of what many might expect. Opposite is at the heart of the message of the gospel and the heart of the story of Jesus’s birth. The Messiah, from his birth, defies what people think and turns things on their heads. This messiah will usher in a paradigm where those who are considered unworthy are worthy, the last will be first, and the first will be last. The Messiah defies the ways in which our world functions, starting with his birth in that lowly manger. The one to save the world and bring joy to all people doesn’t arrive in a palace with fine gold or with brute force. Not Jesus. His arrival is lowly, vulnerable, and unexpected, the opposite of what the world expects of a messiah. The gospel of Luke, with its particular attention to those on the margins—to those with little power—announces that the Messiah inhabits spaces and places on the margins. And, even more, he is someone on the margins! This Christmas, let us celebrate Jesus’s birth in the spaces and places the world least expects. Those are the spaces and places where God resides, then and now. This season of Christmas, let us celebrate opposite day.

Thursday, January 4 Luke 2:1-14 Rev. Dr. Timothy D. Lincoln Assistant Dean for Institutional Effectiveness, Director of the Library, Research Professor in Theological Education Luke’s telling of Jesus’s birth is not a “once upon a time …” story. It’s rooted in specific and odd circumstances. Joseph and Mary travel to Bethlehem to fulfill a governmental obligation: enrollment in a census. While they are there, Jesus is born in a town so crowded with visitors that his parents have sought shelter with the farm animals. No wonder Christians have been able to relate Jesus’ birth to their own experiences of childbirth. The holy family is subject to stress and unchosen circumstances. And so are we. Jesus is born while his parents have other worries besides caring for a newborn. Meanwhile, Luke records, there are shepherds, also going about their everyday business. They need to be instructed by the angel that the Savior is Mary’s baby, the one sleeping in 24 . Reflections on the Season of Advent 2023


a manger. God comes to us in the ordinary, in the infant Jesus. And we rejoice in that. God also comes in the people we encounter by chance or by Providence. We need to keep our eyes peeled.

Friday, January 5 Luke 2:1-14

Question for Personal Reflection: A sign. What does a babe signify? Let’s be concrete. You are driving down an empty street to an important meeting. You see a baby abandoned on a stoop. Can you drive on by? Are you not seized by an overwhelmingly powerful, palpable force, by passionate concern, by agape? Who was hailed “son of a God” and “Prince of Peace” in Luke’s day? Everyone knew: Caesar Augustus, architect of the Pax Romana. But Luke claims that babe in a manger, whose life and ministry of love led Christians to say, “here is agape perfectly incarnate,” is the true Son of God and prince of peace. The “pax” of Caesar’s inequitable empire was sustained by the sword. Facing that sword, Jesus spoke agape to empire even unto death, forming a koinonia whose shalom is sustained by mutual surrender to passionate concern—passionate concern ever reaching out to seize each one of us. Prayer: “God of love, awaken me to love for all people and creatures, awaken them to love for me, seize me with your love for all, and let me know myself as loving and beloved.”

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Dr. William Greenway Professor of Philosophical Theology

Saturday, Epiphany Luke 2:1-14

This is Twelfth Night. January 5th is the twelfth day of Christmas and the eve of Epiphany. We might be more familiar with Shakespeare’s use of Twelfth Night for the title of one of his plays than we are with it being a church celebration, but Twelfth Night is a popular and festive time for the church. It is a night on the cusp of things. Once the day has passed and we come to the evening of January 5th we have completed the twelve day-long celebration of the nativity of Christ. Now we turn our attention to the stories that are part of the next celebration: the visitation by the Magi and Jesus’s baptism and revealing as God’s beloved Son. People around the world have different traditions for Twelfth Night. Christmas trees and other greens are undecorated and brought to a community bonfire. There are final rounds of caroling and door-to-door Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 25

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Rev. Dr. Jennifer L. Lord The Dorothy B. Vickery Professor of Homiletics and Liturgical Studies


wassailing. More festive food and drink and merrymaking. And church services, especially for Great Vigils or Epiphany Eve services. This night also inaugurates the season for house blessings with its tradition of writing the letters C+M+B framed by the numbers of the year over one’s entranceway: 20 C+M+B 24. Christ bless this house, we chalk over our doorways, Christe, Mansionem Benedica (Lt.), invoking the legendary names of the kings Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar. This child’s birth now begins to loosen the grip of power held by the Herods of the world. Rather, the child’s birth has undone the grip, and the Herods of the world are paying attention and striking out in defense. On this night, we sing with the angels and the multitude of the heavenly host: Glory to God! And with them, we make our prayer for peace on earth.

Sunday, January 7 Matthew 2: 1-12 Rev. Dr. José R. Irizarry President and Professor of Practical Theology It seems we have arrived at the end of a journey. Poets, mystics, artists, and even theologians have been captured by the powerful image of journeys as a metaphor for processes or transitions that end up fostering personal and communal transformation. Journeys are idyllic. They throw us into a path of discovery that ends up revealing something new about ourselves and others. Journeys offer inspiration because we never arrive nor return the same. Today, with the challenges of traffic congestion or the commonplace inconveniences of flying, it may not be the journey as such that inspires people to move forward but the compelling force of the destination. Being there is the motivation to be resilient as we face the disruptions along the journey. In telling the story of the wise men who traveled from the East to be there—at the place where the momentous birth of a new ruler has taken place—Matthew was silent about the to-be-expected trials of the long journey. The length of the journey, the stops along the way, the unexpected encounters, the perils of the landscape, and even their mode of transportation remain narrative gaps in the story. The only focus of attention was a guiding star and finding the correct place where the light of salvation will dawn upon earth. In Jerusalem, they reveal their intention. A government official asks them to reveal the location of the emerging monarch, and a convincing dream reveals they must return home via an alternative route. The journey toward a desired destination is marked by epiphanies, by small revelations that serve the purpose of highlighting the significance of our journey. Question for Personal Reflection: As we come to the end of the Advent and Christmas season, a journey of spiritual renewal we have undertaken to welcome the experience of God-With-Us, what has been revealed to you? Perhaps, what has stirred your determination to hold on to faith is your guiding star. Perhaps what holds you back from 26 . Reflections on the Season of Advent 2023


Prayer: Lord, you are our eternal sojourner, and we ask you to keep our minds open to the ways you reveal to us—through word and community— the path to a stronger, life-giving, and life-orienting faith. Give us the light that guides us in this incessant search for truth, hope, and faith. We pray this in Him who is Light of light, Jesus the Christ. Amen.

As we come to the end of the Advent season—a journey of spiritual renewal we have undertaken to welcome the experience of God-With-Us— What has been revealed to you? Final Prayer: Creator God, may we be the people who walk in Faith and continually practice the Radical Love that opens doors to all. Amen. Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary . 27

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engaging faith in its fullness are the voices that challenge the value of your destination. What can lead you into a path of faithful living requires reconsidering the road you have trodden and heading in another direction. Our advent is not complete until we experience such epiphanies. These small revelations carry us through the journey until we see again the light that points us once again to our destination.


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Thank you

for opening your heart and mind to the words of Scripture and the reflections of our faculty during this season of Advent and Christmas. At Austin Seminary we have opened our doors with radical hospitality to dedicated, diverse, and curious students who have a passion for sharing the love of Christ Jesus in a world that desperately needs to know it. Did you know? • Students in our master’s-degree programs receive up to 90% need-based tuition aid. • Historically, more than 80% of our graduates are called to congregational ministry. • Our students come from more than a dozen denominations. • Our alumni serve in ministry in 48 U.S. states as well as in 20 different countries across the world. Your gift to Austin Seminary contributes to scholarships, housing, computer equipment, library materials, and other resources needed by seminarians as they fulfill their calls to Christian service and leadership. Your support underwrites the finest theological faculty and an administration committed to upholding the highest standards possible with respect to the unique vocation of ministry. Every gift is significant and is appreciated. They are put to work right away and make a real impact. Please send your gift today in the envelope that came with your devotional or by giving on our secure website:

https://www.austinseminary.edu/adventgive

Austin Seminary’s Mission Statement For the glory of God and to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ, Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary is a seminary in the PresbyterianReformed tradition whose mission is to educate and equip people for ordained Christian ministry and other forms of Christian service and leadership; to employ its resources for the nurture of the church; to practice and promote critical theological thought and research; to engage a range of voices and perspectives within and beyond the life of the Seminary; and to be a winsome and exemplary community of God’s people.


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