Daily Advent Reflections

Daily Advent Reflection: December 22

Fourth Tuesday of Advent

Psalms 66, 67 · 116, 117
Isa 11:10-16 
Rev. 20:11--21:8 
Luke 1:5-25

“I love that the LORD hears my voice, my plea for mercy.” (Ps. 116, v. 1, A New Psalm)

“The LORD protects the simplehearted;/when I was in great need, he saved me.” (Ps. 116, v. 6, NIV)

The second verse of Psalm 116 leapt out at me when I was meditating on the readings for this day. The word that struck me was “simplehearted.” All of the other translations in my house use the word “simple,” including the Book of Common Prayer. “Simplehearted” is so fresh, so winsome; yet, how seldom I am simplehearted! I approach the world with doubt, questions—to be truthful, often with cynicism. I work very hard at protecting myself from…from what? From disappointment? From having my hopes crushed, my fears realized? What a burden to bear! What would it feel like to simpleheartedly let go of that burden, to trust God to be the strength that I’ll need? I can hardly imagine it; the self-protection that I viewed as safety has restricted my soul’s ability to relax, to laugh, to be free.

All through Advent, we have been looking forward to the coming of a child, an infant completely dependent on the adults in his life to protect him. Those adults were in difficult straits, roughing it in a stable/cave because even money couldn’t buy them shelter in an inn. There was NO room. The perception of scarcity makes us human creatures grasp even more tightly the little we have, feeling we must do “whatever” to protect what is ours. In Bethlehem that night, there was so little room that no one felt they could give up their space, not even for a man with a very pregnant wife. Only a simpleton would do that because anyone could see that the donor would now be the one without a room. Besides, what difference would one night’s lodging make in the life of that couple? The man was sturdy and the girl was young; surely, they would be okay.

How far we have come from “simplehearted!” Wretched human that I am, who can free me from the restraining bonds of my own self-protection? Thanks be to God, the infant who was born in the cave that night has shown the way. “Become like little children,” he said. “Blessed are the meek,” he taught. “Be like the Samaritan,” he illustrated, featuring a social pariah who saw another’s need and responded with compassion before his “better mind” could enumerate the risks. (I’ve often wished I could hear what his wife said when he got home with less money than she was expecting. For her sake, I hope she rolled her eyes and said, “You’re such a simpleton—and that’s why I love you so!”)

My digression has brought me back to Psalm 116 and its opening words: “I love.” What a wonderful way to open a statement! Imagine how much better our lives would be if we could begin our interior monologues as well as our public speech with those words. My Christian and Jewish commentaries note that the phrase, “I love,” is left without a noun object. Normally, we say “I love X,” like “I love apple pie,” or “I love you.” But the writer of this psalm began simply with “I love.” To help contemporary readers with this object-less opening, my modern Jewish translation (which I love) writes “I love that the Lord hears my voice.” One little word, “that,” provides a delightful space for other constructions to rush in. My love is no longer tied to a bare noun; instead, it’s freed to embrace clauses. I can say to my two-year-old, “I love that you are so curious about every single pot and pan in our cupboards.” I do, and I did! I remember my children’s terrible twos and in spite of it all, I loved each two-year-old, even with pots and pans all over the floor.

For me, the objectless beginning of the Psalm gives space for the simplehearted. It allows me to open my arms wide and dance in the snow instead of only grumbling while I scrape the car windows. It reminds me that, while I dance, I have a spotter, Someone who will catch me when (not if) I fall. I can almost feel restraints slipping from my wrists as I reach out to embrace God’s amazing, surprising, confounding creation. This coming Christmas season, I want to live into the “that space,” beginning my sentences with a simplehearted “I love” and discovering what or Who will enter the new place in my soul.

Sheryl Slocum
St. Thomas of Canterbury Episcopal Church, Greendale

Daily Advent Reflection: December 21

Fourth Monday of Advent

Psalms 61, 62 · 112, 115
Isa. 11:1-9
Rev. 20:1-10
John:5:30-47

What amazing Hebrew poetry! What an incredible picture Isaiah paints of an Eden like kingdom! It almost seems like heaven on earth doesn’t it? In these times, I find myself reading this passage as it can be related to our present world. Our world is full of hurt, fear and injury which we have allowed to develop and govern us. It is something like the times of Isaiah. I view our world as the stump of Jesse and God’s people as a synonym for the branch which will shoot forth to bear the fruits of new beginning for healing, peace, and justice. All this is only through the grace and wisdom of God.

We live in a time where divisiveness is so rampant; it takes a passage such as this to encourage us to pause and reimagine what we want, even more importantly, need our world to become. If we consider the animals, side by side, living without fear, we can easily replace those images with our hope for people. People who have learned behaviors to be fearful of one another, those which they know little about, and general differences which many prefer not to try and understand or embrace. Imagine what it would be like for harmony, tolerance, and tranquility to be the norm. Like the animals in this passage, all people are created and loved by God. God’s wish for humanity is freedom, equity, and security. God wants all of us to not be afraid and care for those in need. God wants the marginalized to be lifted. God desires us to rely on holy wisdom and make our decisions with righteousness, confident in this guidance.

How do we bring this idyllic kingdom to full and glorious fruition? We cannot. We are human and fallible. What we can do is try. It will be hard work. We will need to admit our wrongs, acknowledge that which has been intensely hidden, and erase the deeply ingrained. It will take a lot of reflection, soul searching, and listening. We put our trust in God, as God tells us what to let go of and what to hold sacred. We must let God fill us with peace, as we fill others with peace and erase fears. We must fully embrace God’s presence and guidance- even when it seems like it is too hard for us.

We will need to become leaders like the little child turning our eyes to all creation with wonder and excitement about possibilities. We will need to let go of fear and learn to trust more. We can lay aside our self-interest and begin to fearlessly champion the needy. We can stop judging and start laying groundwork for understanding. We do all of this and more with the abiding Holy Spirit; our advocate which never rests.

God created us to love and be loved. The apathy, disdain, and fear of each other are what we have learned. In the words of Rogers and Hammerstein (from South Pacific). “You’ve got to be Carefully Taught.” God invites into love. God invites us to walk with Jesus. God wants us to listen, and we need to listen.

If we do this, we can unlearn what displeases God that we may be mindful of God’s counsel and treat each other with righteousness. There are many references in the Bible to Jesus’ teachings. Let God be our teacher. Only through this can we heal our world with hope and move a step closer to Isaiah’s prophetic kingdom.

Lisa-Marie Bartlett
Trinity Episcopal Church, Janesville

Feast of St. Thomas the Apostle - December 21

Morning Prayer: 

Psalms 23 & 121, Job 42:1-6, 1 Peter 1:3-9

Evening Prayer: Psalm 27, Isaiah 43:8-13, John 14:1-7

O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come and shine on those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death.       O Antiphon (December 21)

St. Thomas was a Jew and probably a Galilean of humble birth, but we are not told that he was a fisherman or the circumstances in which our Lord made him an apostle. His name is Syriac, and means the ‘twin;’ Didymus, as we know he was also called, is the Greek equivalent. This apostle is especially remembered for his incredulity after our Lord suffered, had risen from the dead, and on the same day appeared to His disciples to convince them of the truth of His resurrection. This is the story we hear in today’s Gospel passage.

St. Thomas, like many of us, had doubts. In the Gospel passage he struggled to see the Lord in his presence and needed proof that it was him. Thomas believed because he saw the Lord and was able to put his finger in his side and his wounds, but Jesus said, “blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have learned to believe.” There is probably a little bit of Thomas in each one of us, but we must “walk by faith and not by sight.” 

During this season of Advent, we have been called to open our hearts in joyful expectation. First, for the second time Christ will come into our lives, when He will return in all his glory. Like the servants of the Gospel on the first Sunday of Advent, we “must keep awake – for we do not know when the master of the house will come.” Thomas did not seem to heed this warning. Even when his fellow disciples said that they had seen the Lord, he doubted! It was not until Christ spoke to him and showed him his wounds, that he believed.

Second, nearing the end of this season of Advent we turn our attention to the first time he came into our lives, specifically in the incarnation. Yesterday, we heard the story of the angel Gabriel appearing to Mary and she too had doubts and was perplexed by his words. After Gabriel explained that she had been found in favor and that “nothing will be impossible with God,” Mary released those doubts and let all things happen to her according to his words.

As we remember St. Thomas and celebrate these final days of Advent, let us let the splendor of eternal light come and shine on us who dwell in the darkness of doubt and in the shadow of death. Christ may not be physically present to us, but God sends others into our daily lives to help alleviate doubts as we journey in faith.

We may struggle with a pandemic, cancer, unemployment, troubles within our families, a co-worker, a breakdown with a significant other or just plain doubt. But “nothing will be impossible with God.”

So, Everliving God, who strengthened your apostle Thomas with firm and certain faith in your Son’s resurrection: Grant us so perfectly and without doubt to believe in Jesus Christ, our Lord and our God, that our faith may never be found wanting in your sight; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Scott W. Eakins, MA

St. Aidan’s Episcopal Church, Hartford

Daily Advent Reflection: The Feast of St. Thomas the Apostle

Feast of St. Thomas the Apostle

Morning Prayer: Psalms 23 & 121, Job 42:1-6, 1 Peter 1:3-9
Evening Prayer: Psalm 27, Isaiah 43:8-13, John 14:1-7

O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come and shine on those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death.       O Antiphon (December 21)

St. Thomas was a Jew and probably a Galilean of humble birth, but we are not told that he was a fisherman or the circumstances in which our Lord made him an apostle. His name is Syriac, and means the ‘twin;’ Didymus, as we know he was also called, is the Greek equivalent. This apostle is especially remembered for his incredulity after our Lord suffered, had risen from the dead, and on the same day appeared to His disciples to convince them of the truth of His resurrection. This is the story we hear in today’s Gospel passage.

St. Thomas, like many of us, had doubts. In the Gospel passage he struggled to see the Lord in his presence and needed proof that it was him. Thomas believed because he saw the Lord and was able to put his finger in his side and his wounds, but Jesus said, “blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have learned to believe.” There is probably a little bit of Thomas in each one of us, but we must “walk by faith and not by sight.” 

During this season of Advent, we have been called to open our hearts in joyful expectation. First, for the second time Christ will come into our lives, when He will return in all his glory. Like the servants of the Gospel on the first Sunday of Advent, we “must keep awake – for we do not know when the master of the house will come.” Thomas did not seem to heed this warning. Even when his fellow disciples said that they had seen the Lord, he doubted! It was not until Christ spoke to him and showed him his wounds, that he believed.

Second, nearing the end of this season of Advent we turn our attention to the first time he came into our lives, specifically in the incarnation. Yesterday, we heard the story of the angel Gabriel appearing to Mary and she too had doubts and was perplexed by his words. After Gabriel explained that she had been found in favor and that “nothing will be impossible with God,” Mary released those doubts and let all things happen to her according to his words.

As we remember St. Thomas and celebrate these final days of Advent, let us let the splendor of eternal light come and shine on us who dwell in the darkness of doubt and in the shadow of death. Christ may not be physically present to us, but God sends others into our daily lives to help alleviate doubts as we journey in faith.

We may struggle with a pandemic, cancer, unemployment, troubles within our families, a co-worker, a breakdown with a significant other or just plain doubt. But “nothing will be impossible with God.”

So, Everliving God, who strengthened your apostle Thomas with firm and certain faith in your Son’s resurrection: Grant us so perfectly and without doubt to believe in Jesus Christ, our Lord and our God, that our faith may never be found wanting in your sight; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.


Scott W. Eakins, MA
St. Aidan’s Episcopal Church, Hartford