Blessed Advent to you! These next few weeks will be busy for all of us. With the holiday season kicking off, we will be pulled in countless directions, with demands put on our time and energy. We can’t simply ignore those demands, but we can create habits that help us focus on what is most important. I invite you to make an intentional choice to find a moment of quiet each day when you stop, listen, and reflect on what God is doing in your life and the life of our church.
Advent has always been a time of preparation and anticipation. The true joy of the Advent season comes with the anticipation of a miraculous event that changed the world forever. This is the season when we remember and center ourselves on the truth that Jesus came into the world to show us, tangibly, how much God loves us. When we truly know we are loved, we can reflect that love to ourselves and to others.
The book of meditations you hold in your hand is a gift to you. I hope you receive this gift with the love and hope for which it was made, and that you will use it to find moments of peace every day. You are loved, and love is the greatest gift.
With great hope,
The Rev. Dr. Christopher Girata Rector
The readings included in this devotional are drawn from the lectionary for the Daily Office. For devotions early in the day, use the first psalm or set of psalms listed along with the Old Testament lesson and the New Testament lesson. For devotions later in the day, use the second psalm or set of psalms listed along with the Gospel lesson. For additional details, please see 934–935 in the Book of Common Prayer.
Passages in bold have been selected by the author as the subject of that day’s meditation.
DECEMBER 1
Psalms 146, 147 | Psalms 111, 112, 113
Isaiah 1:1–9 | 2 Peter 3:1–10 | Matthew 25:1–13
ANDREW GROSSO
Senior Associate for Discipleship
Advent, of course, marks the beginning of the church year. Each year in the life of the church, we repeat the cycle of the observances that help us recall the work God has done in the past, participate in the work God is doing in the present, and anticipate the work God will do in the future. And this year, right at the outset of this cycle of remembrances, we hear some angry-sounding words from the book of the prophet Isaiah.
“Ah, sinful nation,” says the Lord, “you are utterly estranged. Why do you continue to rebel? Daughter Zion is left like a besieged city.” Hard words, indeed. When confronted with this kind of language, we may find ourselves tempted to do one of two things: we may either try to make too much of these words, or to make too little of them.
On the one hand, we may be tempted to make too much of these words. We may hear what God speaks through the mouth of the prophet as an unqualified denunciation, a final and definitive rejection on the part of God. But this approach can lead us to a morbid preoccupation with feelings of guilt or shame, and ultimately lead to despair.
On the other hand, we may be tempted to make too little of these words. Surely a good and loving God would never speak such harsh words? Better, perhaps, to chalk them up to the militant zeal of the prophet. But although this approach may make us feel a bit better, it amounts to a certain presumption on our part and (more importantly) overlooks the real significance of what God has to say.
God does speak this word of judgment, but does so only for the purpose of recalling his people to their senses. When they remember who they are and whose they are, they find their sins are forgiven, their fellowship with God is restored, and their lives are renewed. This is what God intends and what God desires for his people, for when they walk in the ways he sets before them, then the community of the people of God is governed by justice, by mercy, and by compassion.
It can be hard to take stock of our lives, both our individual lives and the life we share as a community. And yet, at the very beginning of this new year in the life of the church, this is what God invites us to do. God does not want us to fall either into despair or into indifference, but rather to turn and be healed. This is ultimately what the cycle of the church year is intended to do: to provide us with multiple opportunities to learn how to surrender ourselves more fully to God in ways that enable us to grow in faith, in hope, and in love, so that our lives might testify to his wisdom, his glory, his holiness, and his power.
DECEMBER 2
Psalms 1–3, 7 | Psalms 4, 7
Isaiah 1:10–20 | 1 Thessalonians 1:1–10 | Luke 20:1–8
“Advent” is the coming of Christ in the world, four weeks to wait for his arrival, to spend quiet time thinking about His arrival.
Isaiah says we are in a frenzy, “running here and there, doing this and that, all this sheer commotion.” Doesn’t that sound like most Decembers? To me, time is the greatest gift you can give yourself, your family, and your friends. I’m writing this right after two hurricanes almost back-to-back (Helene and Milton) and before the November election; we’ve been through a lot of anger, chaos, arguing, fear, and division. Isaiah says, “Say no to wrong, learn to do good, work for justice, help the down and out, stand up for the homeless, go to bat for the defenseless.” Saint Michael has so many opportunities for mission and outreach. See what you can do now or in the new year.
During Advent think of some new activities to share:
• Call a few friends you haven’t seen, maybe even meet them for coffee or lunch.
• Drive around and look at Christmas lights (Dallas has some of the best anywhere!).
• Work a Christmas jigsaw puzzle.
• Go to NorthPark or any mall and just walk through, listening to the music and looking at the creative windows.
• Take long or short walks either by yourself or with others.
• Watch a Hallmark movie.
• Read a Christmas book.
• Find five things every day for which you are grateful and write them down so you can look after Christmas and see what you wrote.
• Get some neighbors and sing Christmas carols on your street (I’m going to try this, as we did it every year growing up and I’ve never done it since then).
• Get an Advent wreath and honor it each week.
• Attend Lessons and Carols to sing and hear the scriptures leading up to Christmas.
• And most importantly, pray in thanksgiving for all we have.
As we go through Advent, may our eyes be open to all the blessings around us, may we take time to enjoy the light in our lives, especially Jesus, the Light of our lives and of the world.
DECEMBER 3
Psalms 5–6 | Psalms 10–11
Isaiah 1:21–31 | 1 Thessalonians 2:1–12 | Luke 20:9–18
Most of us are probably familiar with the Parable of the Wicked Tenants presented here in chapter 20 of the Gospel of Luke. We likely also know it is a parable about how the nation of Israel failed to heed all of the calls to repent delivered by God’s prophets. So God sent his son, Jesus, to spread God’s message to Israel. Jesus’ message of love and salvation was so threatening to the established religious order and way of life that the leaders had Jesus killed.
But what does this have to do with us? We certainly haven’t thrown out our Lord’s messengers and have never resorted to violence or murder! And what does this have to do with Advent?
Advent is a season where we endeavor to prepare for the coming of our Lord Jesus, God’s ultimate grace to call us all into faithful and righteous relationship with God. During Advent, we spend time studying the scripture and praying, deeply listening, for God’s call to us. So, in that light, and seen through a little different lens, this parable speaks a deeper meaning to us this Advent.
God adores you, and over your life, has faithfully, repeatedly called to you, sent messengers to you, to enter into a deeper relationship full of love, peace, and joy. You see, we are the tenants, and we do work in God’s vineyard, but we live in a world that constantly tells us that we own the vineyard, and that we are in charge. When we assert our ownership, we are alone, and we cannot hear God’s call to us. Deep in our hearts, we like that message. Our ego, our desire to be in control (our sin) precludes us from happy communion with God, enjoying our labor in the vineyard and sharing those fruits back to God and God’s people.
So this Advent, we might consider how we act as owners of God’s vineyard instead of honoring that all we have as a gift from God for which we are stewards. We might consider how our need for control in our lives interferes with our ability live in a right relationship with our Creator, faithfully accepting with gratitude God’s grace, God’s dreams and plans for us. With deep awareness, setting aside the lies this world tells us, let us listen and look for God’s invitations all around us to live as faithful, extraordinary tenants of God’s vineyard.
DECEMBER 4
Psalms 119:1–24 | Psalms 12–14
BARBARA KENNARD
Community Bible Study; Pastoral Care “Friend in Christ”
Isaiah 2:1–11 | 1 Thessalonians 2:13–20 | Luke 20:19–26
I must admit that I’ve always been stymied by Psalm 119. It is the longest psalm in the Psalter and one I have only experienced in small chunks. Admittedly, I have generally avoided Psalm 119 when reading and praying the Psalms. So, when I signed up to write an Advent Meditation, it didn’t occur to me that God would direct me to Psalm 119.
In reading verses 1–24, I experience God’s work with the psalmist and with anyone who takes up the work this psalm asks of us: to be patient with the text, to read it slowly and prayerfully, and to appreciate its powerful Torah piety. In this psalm, I experience the psalmist’s faithfulness, obedience, and devotion to God’s word. These moments with Psalm 119 give me the courage to acknowledge my own failings and my need for God’s grace, mercy, and forgiveness, which are powerful reminders of my dependence on God in this life and for the life to come, a life that is already but not yet.
The psalmist recounts ways in which she has attempted to follow God’s decrees. Although she lavishes praise on God, she does not shy away from acknowledging when she has been less than steadfast in obeying God (vv. 5–6), or her concern that she may be put to shame or “utterly” forsaken’ (v. 6a and v. 8b). Yet, there are wonderful moments where the psalmist acknowledges the desire to keep God’s law, to rejoice in following God’s statutes, and to delight in God’s decrees. There is a lovely “back and forth” in the language of this psalm; the psalmist recalls her efforts to keep God’s rules, but also expresses her fears: “do not let me stray from your commandments” (v. 10b). These moments are the meat of relationship with God. God knows all about each of us: our sins, our goodness, etc. The good news is that we need not be afraid. Like the author of Psalm 119, give all of yourself to God and wait for the Lord. God’s hesed —God’s love, mercy, and kindness—endures forever.
DECEMBER 5
Psalm 18:1–20 | Psalm 18: 21–50
Isaiah 2:12–21 | 1 Thessalonians 3:1–13 | Luke 20:27–40
In the season of Advent, as we anticipate the coming of the Christ child, we turn to Psalm 18 for guidance and inspiration. This psalm is a song of praise and thanksgiving to God for His deliverance and protection. It is a psalm that reminds us of God’s faithfulness and love, even in the darkest of times.
The psalmist begins by declaring his love for God, his strength and refuge. He then goes on to describe how God has delivered him from his enemies and protected him from danger. He tells of how God has been his rock, his fortress, and his deliverer.
The psalmist’s experience is a reminder that God is always with us, even when we feel alone and afraid. He is our strength and our refuge, and He will never forsake us. My personal experience never lets me forget that God is with me every minute, every day. When I was a little girl, my mom constantly told me that God was always with me. I still hear her voice reminding me!
As we journey through Advent, let us take time to reflect on the many ways in which God has been faithful to us. Let us thank Him for His love and His protection, and let us trust Him to continue to guide and protect us in the days to come.
In particular, let us focus on the following verses from Psalm 18:
“I love you, O Lord, my strength.” (v. 1)
“My God, my rock in whom I take refuge.” (v. 2)
“The Lord, my God, lights up my darkness.” (v. 28)
These verses remind us that God is our source of strength, refuge, and light. He is always with us, even in the darkest of times.
As we meditate on these verses, let us allow God’s love and light to fill our hearts. Let us trust in His faithfulness and provision, and let us be filled with hope, peace, joy and love as we anticipate the coming of the Christ child.
Loving and gracious God, thank you for your love and faithfulness. Thank you for being my strength and my refuge. Thank you for lighting up my darkness. Help me to journey through Advent with a heart full of hope and joy. Help me to focus on your love and faithfulness and help me to trust you more fully each day. Amen.
I remember talking with the leader of an organization to which I belonged. Then I realized he was looking over my shoulder to find a more important person, a wealthy individual who could donate to our community. Have you had that experience? If so, you understand the passage from Luke.
Who gets our attention? What is it to “see with the eyes of Jesus?” Jesus sees a poor widow who has placed two coins in the Temple treasury. He praises her for giving all. Many people think that this passage from Luke is primarily about stewardship. Perhaps. But the poor woman is contrasted with wealthy donors and religious leaders who make a show of their faith in order to maintain their prestige and place of honor. Honor was extremely important in the first century. Jesus lived in a shame and honor society where honor was more important than wealth or success—although honor was associated with the capacity to be a donor or a patron.
Jesus saw the impoverished woman who in his culture was without honor. For me, this highlights “seeing with the eyes of Jesus.” Jesus sees the one who is there. What if we embraced this way of seeing? Don’t bother to assess value to people. To love your neighbor is to notice and love the one who is present. If God loves that way, we don’t have to earn God’s love. Neither must our neighbor deserve love. Seeing with the eyes of Jesus demands that we not decide who matters. Seeing with the eyes of Jesus frees us from judging who counts. It liberates us from proving our worth.
Near the end of Jesus’ ministry, the disciples were anguished and desperately seeking answers to troubling issues. In particular, the disciples sought clarity to two big questions: (1) when would the temple be destroyed; and (2) what would be the sign of Jesus’ return and the end of human history? “Teacher,” they asked, “when will these things happen? And what will be the sign that they are about to take place?”
Jesus answered the two questions for the disciples, but perhaps his answers were without the clarity the disciples desired. Jesus spoke of the many perils that would come, including future wars between nations, great earthquakes, famines, and other catastrophic events, as well as great signs from heaven. The Messiah’s advice was for the disciples to not worry or panic, but instead to believe in Him and his mercy and love. The gift of the Holy Spirit would help them during periods of waiting and anxiety.
As we experience the Advent season, we should heed the advice Jesus gave to his disciples as set forth in Luke 21. There are many concerns in our day-to-day lives, but we do not have reason to be overly concerned or panicked about the timing of events such as the timing of Jesus’ return. Jesus has never left us! Instead, we should take solace in the fact that Jesus is with us today with his great love and mercy, and that this love will remain with us always. That is the hope and promise of Advent—that the gift of Jesus is with us now and will be forthcoming evermore.
JOHN
Men of Saint Michael; Seekers
DECEMBER 8
Psalm 148, 149, 150 | Psalm 114, 115
Isaiah 5:1–7 | 2 Peter 3:11–18 | Luke 7:28–35
Luke’s Gospel begins by establishing that John was Jesus’ faithful forerunner, a voice calling in the wilderness proclaiming in no uncertain terms that the Messiah was coming. As a result, it was a call to repent (turn from your ways), be baptized, and prepare for His arrival (Luke 3:15–16). But by Luke 7, John begins to doubt. “Are you really the one who is to come?” he asks. What has happened to give rise to this question for John? Matthew 11 tells us He has been imprisoned by Herod. If the Messiah “proclaimed release to the captives and…let the oppressed go free” (Luke 4:18), John must have been wondering how his own experience reflected that.
John, and many other Jews along with him, expected a Jewish Messiah who would redeem Israel from Roman oppression and usher in the Messianic Era—the kingdom of God on earth. So, John asks the question: should we be looking elsewhere? This doesn’t look like the kingdom of heaven. It still looks like the kingdom of Herod and of Rome.
After John’s disciples depart, Jesus turns John’s question (“Who are you?”) on its head: “Who was John?” Jesus provides a definitive answer: “A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet!” John played a crucial role in the coming of the Messiah. Jesus then lauds those who had been baptized by John, turned from their ways, and started preparing for His coming. In the same breath, he criticized the Pharisees for rejecting John, his baptism, and his call to repent.
And then Jesus asks a question, which is a question for us today too: “To what then shall I compare the people of this generation, and what are they like?” Jesus doesn’t give a positive answer. He calls them childish; Jesus tells us to become as children (Luke 18:17), but this has gone sour. In some respects, we can be like Peter Pan, who sings, “I won’t grow up!” Childishness is throwing temper tantrums and pouting when we don’t get our way. It is people making petty demands and selfish complaints. Childishness is expecting the world to revolve around us, rather than living other focused lives and becoming a servant to others.
Jesus is challenging us not to be like the children who complain that people won’t play their games. Don’t criticize. Don’t condemn. Don’t accuse. Don’t hold onto what you have, but instead share. Trust in God in everything you do and with everything you have. That is the path to righteousness. How can you become more childlike this Advent?
DECEMBER 9
Psalm 25 | Psalm 9, 15
Isaiah 5:8–12, 18–23 | 1 Thessalonians 5:1–11 | Luke 21:20–28
SAMUEL MOORE Director of Youth Ministries
The great joy of Christmas nearly always overshadows the season of Advent. And perhaps this is unsurprising. Christmas recalls within us feelings of nostalgia as we remember moments from years past with our families, of milk and cookies left by the fireplace, or stories of our infant Lord swaddled and laid in a manger. The joy of Christmas is palpable, and we could all use a bit more cheer.
However, in our eagerness to welcome in the yule tide, I have a suspicion we often spend more time preparing our homes than properly preparing our hearts. While Advent marks the beginning of the church calendar, it also represents a season of penitence and preparation; a season of waiting and hoping. When taken seriously, Advent makes us desperately aware of our great need for salvation and, in turn, frames and magnifies the joy of Christ’s coming.
Our scripture today reminds us that the good news of the gospel is not easy or without sacrifice. The prophet Isaiah speaks dramatically of God’s judgment over those who are not honoring of God and neighbor. In Saint Paul’s letter to the church in Thessalonica, he says the day of the Lord will be like a thief in the night for those who do not know Christ. In our reading from Luke, Jesus speaks of the anguish of the world as redemption draws near. At first glance these passages seem a lot more like “doom and gloom” than “comfort and joy.” However, if we are bold enough to sit with them, we may be surprised to find real encouragement and lasting hope.
We don’t need to turn on the news for more than a minute to be reminded of the brokenness in the world. We can point at sin all around us and might even fool ourselves into thinking that it isn’t we who really need saving. But if we are honest with ourselves, we may also recognize our own brokenness and our real need for redemption. The good news of the gospel and the good news of Advent is this: a day is coming soon when the whole world will be wrapped in God’s love. Rescue is coming for us and for all creation whether we claim to need it or not, and it will arrive not by horse and chariot, but in humility with newborn cries and sacrificial love.
“Wait for the Lord, whose day is near. Wait for the Lord: be strong, take heart!” – Taizé Community
DECEMBER 10
Psalm 26, 28 | Psalm 36, 39
Isaiah 5:13–17, 24–25 | 1 Thessalonians 5:12–28 | Luke 21:29–38
Not long ago, I was browsing our beloved Saint Michael Bookshop on a Sunday morning, when I noticed a basket of wooden crosses. I picked one up to examine it and noticed its dark, smooth wooden surface. About the size of my hand, it was strangely curved. Curious, I asked the volunteer about the shape. She replied that the cross was made to fit the contour of your hand, to be held as a comfort—a nice gift for those suffering physically, mentally, or spiritually. I remember my surprise at the thought that the simple act of holding a cross could be so powerful, as if holding tightly to a comforting hand.
I have always loved the selection from 1 Thessalonians in which Paul encourages the faithful to love one another as a new community of love, never repaying “evil for evil” and “holding fast to what is good.” But what can “holding fast” do in times of trouble, as certainly that fledgling community— not to mention our own today—faced suffering, discouragement, and temptation amidst hope for redemption, salvation, restoration, and healing? The writer of the Psalms pleads for God’s salvation, vindication, and healing, asking that “All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings.” The prophet Isaiah, witnessing the Assyrian invasion and destruction of the Northern Kingdom, bemoans their punishment and exile yet expresses hope for restoration and peace when “the lambs shall graze in their pasture, fatlings and kids shall feed among the ruins.” Threats of danger, destruction, and suffering abounded then as now in our world, but so do visions of hope and restoration. Luke tells us that “the kingdom of God is near.”
So, what can “holding fast” achieve in the meantime? I would say that it’s an act of faith, of trust. Perhaps not even when or how we anticipate, yet healing will come. Things will be made right. That’s what the cross says to me and in that, I trust as I continue my faith journey. Maybe just “holding fast” to a hand-sized wooden cross is all I need for now.
DECEMBER 11
Psalm 38 | Psalm 119:25–48
Isaiah 6:1–13 | 2 Thessalonians 1:1–12 | John 7:53–8:11
During Advent, we await the birth of the One who came here to shoulder and to forgive all of our sins. And sin we do—we remain imperfect human beings, which we have been throughout time. The Bible, both the Old and the New Testaments, is filled with stories that are heavy with sin, and thankfully, filled with forgiveness and redemption too.
In Isaiah 6, Isaiah sees the Lord, and in his awe reacts with great humility, crying out that he has “unclean lips.” His lips are touched with a live coal by a seraphim that says, “See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for.” Such grace in that action.
As well, in one of the most famous stories in the Bible concerning sin and forgiveness, John 8 contains the story of the adulteress who is sentenced by the scribes and Pharisees to be stoned. However, Jesus uttered his amazing statement that both clarified the intent of the law and served as a mirror back to her accusers: “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Then he forgave her, as we are each forgiven every day, and as we are to forgive others.
There is so much hope in the Scriptures as well. David, in Psalm 38:15, says, “Lord, I wait for you; you will answer, Lord my God.” Psalm 119:41 states, “May your unfailing love come to me, Lord, your salvation according to your promise.”
The promise of Advent, the promise of Christmas, and the promise of Jesus.
DIANE MCGRATH
Women Word Work
DECEMBER 12
Psalm 37:1–18 | Psalm 37:19–42
Isaiah 7:1–9 | 2 Thessalonians 2:1–12 | Luke 22:1–13
MEGHAN HOUK Director of Children and Family Ministry
Today’s reading from the gospel of Luke always stops me in my tracks and strikes a bit of fear into my heart.
We have two dynamics at work. First, we have the chief priests and teachers of the law—those considered the most holy, the most familiar with the ways God has called the people of Israel to live out the faith—conspiring to find a “way to get rid of Jesus, for they were afraid of the people.” The religious leaders, those who best knew the scriptures, those who knew the beginning of wisdom and all good things is the fear of the Lord, were so afraid of the people that they missed entirely the coming of the Messiah.
Secondly, we have this stunning statement: “Then Satan entered Judas, called Iscariot, one of the Twelve.” Judas, who had witnessed nearly all of Jesus’ earthly ministry, a man who had sat with Jesus, discussed the scriptures, eaten with him, traveled with him, prayed with him, was overtaken by Satan and conspired with the chief priests and teachers of the law to betray his Lord.
Here we are, approximately halfway through Advent, a liturgical season called by some “a little Lent,” and we have this sobering story. And so, I think it appropriate that we slow down and examine our own hearts. When are the times I have been “afraid of the people”? Afraid of what others might think of me, or of my ability to handle the complexities of life as a believer? Am I keeping an appropriate fear of the Lord above a worldly fear of others? And is my heart soft towards the Lord Jesus? What are the temptations of this world that might lead me to betray my Lord?
Lord Jesus, as I prepare my heart to receive you this Christmas and to receive you eternally as king, please show me the ways I look too often to the world and not enough at your heart of love for me and all others. Create in me a clean heart that I might enter into the joy of your coming. Amen.
DECEMBER 13
Psalm 31 | Psalm 35
Isaiah 7:10–25 | 2 Thessalonians 2:13–3:5 | Luke 22:14–30
RALPH COUSINS
Acolyte Corps
Before you proceed, grab your Bible and read the text from Luke noted above.
We hear a form of this extraordinary passage every time we worship at Eucharist. Jesus sat at the Passover table with his apostles, as he certainly had done many, many times. However, this meal was unlike any before, and certainly no meal ever again. Jesus gives the apostles, and us, a tangible rite with which to remember and celebrate him. If we listen carefully as the priest recites the prayers of consecration, we are drawn to that poorly lit room to hear the invitation, “Do this in remembrance of me.”
If that wasn’t enough, Jesus invites us to be at the table and eat with him. The meal, the command to remember him, were not for the apostles alone. The entire world is invited to the Passover feast with Jesus, so that the salvation of the Lord “may reach to the end of the earth.” Paul, while preaching at Antioch, used these words from the prophet Isaiah to proclaim the gospel both to Jews and to Gentiles (Acts 13:47).
This alone is sufficient reason for us to celebrate. However, Jesus isn’t through yet. Tearing of bread and drinking the juice of crushed grapes are symbolic reenactments of his torture and death. It would be the height of hubris to believe that Jesus calls us to dine with him without inviting us to suffer, to serve with him. In fact, the passage ends with Jesus admonishing his quarreling friends that the greater one is not the dinner guest but he who serves.
Finally, a personal practice that has great meaning for me. Ours is not an exclusive, restricted faith; ours is a joyous, expansive faith. As I kneel at the altar rail for Holy Communion, I imagine that I am kneeling alongside and am embraced by every Christian…and if my imagination allows, with all creation—as Jesus intended.
DECEMBER 14
Psalm 30, 32 | Psalm 42, 43
Isaiah 8:1–15 | 2 Thessalonians 3:6–18 | Luke 22:31–38
I selected December 14, not because any of the passages appointed for today are comfortable, but because that is the anniversary of marriage for me and my wife Maria. I approached these passages like I would a box of chocolates, not quite sure what I’d get but wanting to find something to challenge myself to understand God’s message to all of us.
The passage from Isaiah sets the tone, “not to follow the way of this people [the world].” “The Lord Almighty is the one you are to regard as holy.” The Psalms for today remind us that God’s “anger lasts only a minute” when we fall, “but His favor lasts a lifetime” through His mercy. For me, that means when I “stray” from a continuous focus of the Lord in my life, as all humans routinely do, He is waiting for us as our “Rock” and “Stronghold.”
2 Thessalonians is a short book, but this letter from Paul, Timothy, and Silvanus to the good people of Thessalonica is a message to which we as a community of disciples should pay attention. It is essentially a warning against idleness. Saint Michael has accomplished more than many congregations in our 75+ years, and our campus rebuild is well underway. Let us not rest on our laurels and “never tire of doing what is right” by following Jesus’s example. “If we build it, they shall come.” Seems to me our construction is laying the foundation for our future work in Dallas and beyond. Praise God!
At Saint Michael and All Angels, we are praying, learning, serving, and giving to create a vibrant community of committed disciples impacting the church and the world.
For this Advent Season and into the New Year, may we renew our commitment to work, not being idle, at being better disciples. Thanks be to God!
DECEMBER 15
Psalm 63:1–11, 98 | Psalm 103
Isaiah 13:6–13 | Hebrews 12:18–29 | John 3:22–30
Many of us come to the Episcopal Church from other faith communities—this is not unusual. As a youth, I was part of the Assemblies of God in my hometown. My Baptism was rooted in the New Testament, but the preaching and life of that congregation felt more focused on the Old Testament. There was much talk about God, but less about Jesus.
It took time for me to find a church that centered its life on God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit—a Kingdom-focused way of living marked by humility, community, joy, and service. This message resonated deeply with me: the call to think less of oneself and more of others. There is a profound peace in knowing that God values each of us as his creation, not according to any human-made social hierarchy.
There is a temptation to misinterpret this humility, to think we are called to subjugate ourselves, to crush the Holy Spirit that was placed in us at Baptism, as if God asks us to live like dour sleepwalkers. But this is untrue. Following Christ is about submission, not subjugation. It’s about keeping God at the center of our lives and using our gifts to glorify Him in Christ Jesus. This is the essence of discipleship, and when we remember this, we discover true joy.
I wish I could say this kind of humility can be cultivated through a few Sunday sermons or a month of Adult Formation classes at Saint Michael. But the truth is, practicing this Christ-centered life takes time. Because we are human; we forget, life happens to us, and we can drift away from our community when times are either joyful or stressful. It’s not always easy to embrace the truth that we were designed for worship, for loving others, and for regularly being reminded of God’s love and care for us.
Saint Michael is a remarkable place and has ever been so. Our parishioners consistently show that this parish values community, learning, and service—the very elements of living humbly before God.
This season, let us rededicate ourselves to be regular in worship, to be formed in Christ, and to discover our purpose as followers of Jesus.
DECEMBER 16
Psalm 41, 52 | Psalm 44 Isaiah 8:16–9:1 | 2 Peter 1:1–11 | Luke 22:39–53
KIMBERLY ROGERS
Previous Saint Michael staff, Adult Ministry; Teacher at ESD
Truth be told, it was a strange last supper. We had gathered in an upper room to celebrate Passover, but Jesus spoke of his death. Spoke of one of us betraying him. When he went to the Garden of Gethsemane afterwards, we of course followed him. I would follow him anywhere. He looked so distraught when he said, “Pray that you may be spared the hour of testing,” then walked a stone’s throw away from us and knelt in prayer. I laid down and watched him for a while. His face was filled with agony, and I heard him cry out, “Father, if it is thy will take this cup away from me. Yet not my will, but thine be done.” I could not bear the sight of my teacher in so much pain. I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing, and before long I fell asleep. I awoke ashamed when I heard Jesus saying, “Why are you sleeping? Pray that you may be spared the hour of testing.”
But we were not spared testing—certainly not that night. We heard a crowd approaching, led by Judas with a smug look on his face. He was accompanied by the chief priests, officers of the temple police, and several of the elders. We watched in horror as Judas approached Jesus and had the audacity to kiss him on the cheek to identify him to the authorities. We were outraged at this gross betrayal, but Jesus calmly asked, “Judas, would you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?” The disciple next to me, growling in rage, reached for his sword and cut off the ear of the High Priest’s servant. Jesus turned to us and said, “Let them have their way.” Then he reached out and touched the servant’s ear and healed him. Turning to address Judas and all the men who had come to apprehend him, he said, “This is your moment—the hour when darkness reigns.”
Watching him being arrested and led away was the lowest moment of my life. Darkness reigned. I thought that night was the end of everything. Yet three days later, a light would pierce the darkness and shatter it. Light triumphing over darkness! Not the end, but a new beginning! I now live to serve our risen Lord.
“Be all the more eager to make your calling and election sure.”
The Oxford English Dictionary defines “Advent” as “the arrival of a notable person or thing.” I respectfully disagree! I propose that the Saint Michael and All Angels community define this Advent season as, “the arrival of a notable person and thing.”
As Christians we anticipate and prepare for the birth of our Savior, Jesus. We are only eight days from celebrating His arrival and have been preparing for weeks in many of the habitual seasonal ways—Christmas decorations for our homes, Christmas carols, special presents, once-a-year social gatherings, the yearly Christmas card, and so on. How often do these actions become part of our behavioral repertoire? Once a year: when Christmas has passed, these actions abruptly cease.
What if we were to change how we approach the Advent season, because we change? What if we embrace Peter’s declaration and adopt new habits of being, that enhance and deepen our preparation for Christ’s arrival? When we choose to “make our calling” and “election sure” we commit to more than the seasonal preparations for Christ’s arrival. We commit ourselves to a lifelong journey of spiritual transformation as disciples of Christ.
At Saint Michael, we have identified four pillars of discipleship to guide that transformation: pray, learn, serve and give. I believe that the more committed and enthusiastic we are as a church community in adopting each of these pillars as habits of our daily behavior, as markers of who we are, the more we will transform ourselves spiritually, connect with one another more deeply, and experience the anticipation of Christ’s arrival more intimately.
Our church home (the “thing” whose arrival we await!) is also undergoing a permanent transformation. Communally, we have made our calling and elected to change our campus! We have the extraordinary blessing of witnessing the change and growth of our physical campus, into a place where we can continue to grow together through formation, discipleship, worship, and stewardship.
This Advent, may we delight in all the sparkle and celebrations of the season, and commit to new habits of praying, learning, serving and giving when we eagerly (!) and with surety (!) embrace discipleship as the vocation of our daily lives.
The best is yet to come!
DECEMBER 18
Psalm 119:49–72 | Psalm 49, 53
Isaiah 9:8–17 | 2 Peter 2:1–10a | Mark 1:1–8
MARIA D’ANTONI Mission & Outreach; Prayer Ministry
It is the morning after the initial landfall of hurricane Milton, and I sit at my computer wanting to express words that express the joy of the season that I hope to feel on the 18th of December. I instead feel the oppression of so much destruction, the weight of the aftermath of hurricane Helene, the continued bombing of Lebanon, and the very ripping of the fabric of our democracy by so much rancid bitterness expressed in the media as we approach election day. I find that to get in the right mindset I must meditate and wait on the Lord. I must still my heart and my anxiety to hear the message I am to convey. I know that I am not the one to accomplish this. I must solicit the help of the Holy Spirit. I must pray.
I lumbered through the readings for this day and found none that offered me comfort. I read Isiah 9 and was struck by the Lord’s impatience with Israel. Hmmm: could He be getting His fill of us? I turn to Psalm 49 and hear about the folly of trusting in riches, and I think of our Dallas lifestyle and priorities, and I think, “This isn’t very encouraging.” I then turn to Psalm 53, which expresses God’s denunciation of godlessness, and I ponder that we humans haven’t changed that much: “God looks down from heaven on humankind to see if there are any who are wise, who seek after the Lord” (Psalm 53:2). Isn’t that the purpose of Advent: the time of seeking the Lord? Reading 2 Peter 2, I am again struck by the warning of God’s wrath. Psalm 119:71–72 brings me to the realization that being humbled is good for me and the Lord’s law is my real treasure.
My journey ends in Mark 1 where I sense what the people following John the Baptist were receiving through his baptisms: hope and light. They too were feeling the weight of oppression. I realize that this is the purpose of our Advent meditation: to journey with the people of the Old Testament, feeling their oppression and pain, and to wait with them for the coming of Jesus. I am touched by their experiences and honesty of expression and realize that we share a common human experience and a loving and glorious Messiah. He is coming.
DECEMBER 19
Psalm 50 | Psalm 33, 59, 60
Isaiah 9:18–10:4 | 2 Peter 2:10b–16 | Matthew 3:1–12
“You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?”
MARY LESSMANN Associate for Spiritual Growth
We Episcopalians are uncomfortable with John the Baptist. We really don’t want him showing up to our holiday preparations and celebrations. Not because we’re worried he’ll bring honey-covered locusts as a side dish for the potluck, but because his very presence seems to announce judgment and harshness and wildness and challenge. We like being the place folks can feel comfortable about their relationship with God. But the last thing that John the Baptist wants is for us to feel comfortable. John jolts us out of our self-satisfaction and reasonableness and says, “No, no, no… don’t be getting all warm and cozy with your twinkling lights and your cheery holiday music and your festive celebrations and your gifts given and received. You don’t get the option of just going along through life as usual. You’re either all in or you’re not in. And if you’re all in, now is the time to repent—to prepare for God’s kingdom, which is breaking in as we speak.”
Many of you know I grew up Roman Catholic. In the church I grew up in, before I found my home in the Episcopal church, Advent is lived out as a little Lent. The vestments are the same purple color and there is much focus on penitence. One of the many things I loved when I came to the Episcopal church is the clear distinction between Advent and Lent. Advent, with its beautiful Sarum blue vestments, is a time of preparation in contrast with Lent as a time of penitence. But what if repentance is part of our Advent preparation? John the Baptist would certainly say it is. Most of us understand repentance as regret or remorse for past sins; “those things done and left undone,” as we confess each week. But metanoia, the Greek word from which we translate repentance, means to turn around, to move in a new direction. It is not meant so much to draw our gaze back to sorrow about the past as it is to draw our gaze forward, to the promise of a new beginning.
Much as we’d like to, as we make our way through our holiday preparations, John the Baptist is a messenger that we cannot ignore. He challenges us to change our hearts and our habits. More than trees and lights and gifts and parties, this is the preparation he so uncomfortably and loudly and unavoidably calls us into.
Amen.
DECEMBER 20
Psalm 40, 54 | Psalm 51
Isaiah 10:5–19 | 2 Peter 2:17–22 | Matthew 11:2–15
From Pits to Praise
CAROL PIERCE GOGLIA
Vestry, Junior Warden
David transports us with vivid imagery to the deep in the pits of life, into the “slimy...mud and mire.” Maybe there were snakes in those pits (I’m imagining an Indiana Jones film)? I love the word “slimy”: it’s slippery down there in those pits. You never have solid footing; you feel unbalanced and afraid. Yet David assures us that God “set his feet on a rock” and gave him a “firm place to stand.” And he goes on to say how he speaks of who saved him! He does “not conceal” that the Lord is his savior!
Have you experienced dark times? When has life felt dark and scary? In this season of Advent, while we’re awaiting the birth of our Savior, continue to call out for him. Trust in God’s perfect timing. And when he comes to save you, join with the angels to proclaim the Good News! To God be the glory!
Dear Heavenly Father: When we fall into the slimy pits of life, please remind us to rely on you, to wait patiently and obediently, to have faith not fear. And when you lift us out of the pits, may we joyfully sing your praises, give you glory and shout from the rooftops that you are our Lord and Savior. May we live in gratitude, forever more praising your name, Lord God. Amen.
Scan to listen to Hallelujah Anyway by Rend Collective.
DECEMBER 21
Psalm 55 | Psalm 138, 139
Isaiah 10:20–27 | Jude 17–25 | Luke 3:1–9
As Christmas fast approaches, I find myself caught up in the frenzy of expectations, expectations I’ve placed upon myself and expectations that come from outside. There was so much time to get ready! Where did it go? Somehow, here we are, in the last week before Christmas arrives. How can that be? I am overcome by the visions of how things are “supposed” to be, what I am “supposed” to have accomplished. Has every Christmas card been sent? Is every sparkling light perfectly placed and every branch adorned with ornaments? Is every present wrapped, “just so” under the tree? What have I forgotten? It is always something, usually several somethings, that have slipped through the cracks. And it is when these overwhelming feelings of “not good enough” hit me that I know I need to slow down and take a breath. I need to remember my place in all of this. It can be easy for me to let the world have its way with me. But I do not belong to the world.
Psalm 139 reminds me that while I sometimes get lost in the worries of this world—and, dare I say, at some level forget what all this Christmas business and busyness is about—God has not lost sight of me. In fact, there is nowhere I can go or be that God isn’t right there beside me. I cannot hide, not even in the busyness. And I am not in control. We live in a messy world. But God is right there with us in all its messiness. We can depend on God. Psalm 139 impresses upon me that no matter how desperate I may feel, or how dark or alone things seem, God is right there beside me.
Working backwards, Psalm 138 bids me to wonder at God’s greatness and God’s ability to handle all the things that I cannot handle. God is great, and I am small. God is so great that I cannot comprehend it! Psalm 138 inspires me to adore God and keep in the forefront of my mind the wonder of God’s gift of perfect love that is given to this messy, broken world at Christmas. God’s perfect love is…enough.
So, now I breathe. Now, I am still. Now, I let God be God. Throughout the rest of Advent and into the Christmas season I will endeavor to sing God’s praises in every carol and in every hymn, letting go of worldly fears and expectations, moment by moment, and embracing the promise of God’s loving, enduring Presence in every, everything. Amen.
JOLIE DERR
Education for Ministry Graduate; Saint Michael Choir
DECEMBER 22
Psalm 24, 29 | Psalm 8, 84
Isaiah 42:1–12 | Ephesians 6:10–20 | John 3:16–21
It is two days before our celebration of the Nativity, and the whole world is once again eagerly awaiting and preparing for this celebration of the birth of our Lord. It is amazing to think about our celebrations in light of the circumstances of the actual event. Two days before our Lord’s birth, he was riding on a donkey inside his mother and with his father to the City of Bethlehem. The only beings who were preparing and watching for this extraordinary night were probably the angels in heaven. Only a very small handful of people in the world of our Lord realized he was coming and knew the story of the angel and his conception. Mary, Joseph, Elizabeth, and Zechariah may have been the only ones. God’s plan to accomplish a new thing in this world is about to kick off, and it started in such a small unobtrusive ordinary way. From the worldly perspective, what could be more ordinary than the birth of a baby? Especially one in a stable amongst the animals in a bed of hay.
Yet, the trajectory of the world was about to forever change. In the words of Isaiah “a new song” was about to play, and the only ones who knew the words and the tune were the angel choirs in heaven. Today, however, what a difference!! Throughout the ages to today literally billions of Christians await with hope and wonder and joy for the celebration of the incarnation. They/We have and will sing with joy our beloved tunes of “Silent Night” and “Joy to the World.” The angel choirs of old are joined by choirs and believers all over creation giving glory to the Lord. So as our own choir of Saint Michael and All Angels tune their voices and instruments, and as we finalize our own preparations, take a moment to wonder during the coming days. Reflect upon the humble miracle through which God accomplished this work, and the amazing result that is already touching lives from the mountains to the coast lands. Through the birth of the ordinary truly comes the extraordinary. Welcome Emmanuel!
As the journey of Advent comes to an end, it’s time for us to prepare our hearts and minds to celebrate the birth of Christ. Christmas is an incredibly special time for so many of us. Yet even through the joy of lights and music and décor, there is always a shadow of pain and heartbreak.
No matter who you are, Christmas brings with it both joy and sadness. As disciples of Jesus, we know all about carrying the weight of life even as we celebrate the hopefulness of Christ. This year, I find the words of the psalmist to be especially poignant.
Around the world, there are countless numbers who are going without rest and who yearn for salvation. From the very beginning of time, God has reached out to humanity. God knows that we need reminding of His presence and comfort. Today, we hear the psalmist’s words echo loudly: “Truly my soul finds rest in God.”
At Christmas, God’s promise of rest and salvation becomes flesh. No longer do we have to wish for God’s salvation to come, because in Christ we receive the gift of salvation in the flesh. The promise is fulfilled, and we can anchor ourselves on the rock that will never be shaken.
Now comes the true challenge: how will we use our gifts to make sure everyone around us receives that same confidence in God’s promise? How will we, with all our strength and privilege, extend God’s love to those who are hurt, who mourn, and who feel threatened? It’s easy for us to believe that we are too small and too insignificant to make a difference, but time and time again, God uses the least to do the most.
This year, as we consider who we are and what we have been given in the promise of Christ, I hope that we will claim our gifts with confidence. This year, I hope that you and I will take a big step toward using our gifts in the world to help the world grow even closer to God. As we celebrate the coming of Christ, remember that we embody the promise of Christ each and every day.
