Daily Advent Reflections

Daily Advent Reflection: December 11

Second Friday of December

Psalms 31 · 35
Isa. 7:10-25
2 Thess. 2:13-3:5
Luke 22:14-30

When I am expecting a special guest, I clean house. I make sure that the bathrooms and floors are clean, that the house is dusted, and that the pet hair is vacuumed from the furniture. When my guest arrives, they have no idea if I am a good housekeeper or if I made a special effort for them… and I do not want them to know! They do not need to know about the dust, dirt, pet hair, or grime that was there and in what measure it was there before. All they need to know is that my house is clean now.

I don’t think we talk enough about purgation in the church. Purgation is the purifying or cleansing of something. During this time of Advent, we are called to prepare for the coming of not just a special guest, but the most special guest, for Christ our Lord and King. If Christ were to come to your actual home, wouldn’t you want to clean ahead of time? Wouldn’t you want to purge out that which is making your home dirty? That is our opportunity in Advent. We need to purge out that which is making our spiritual houses, our bodies and souls, unclean. I could go through the seven deadly sins, but the one I’m most concerned about lately is wrath. Everyone seems so angry now days. For instance, some are angry that people want them to wear masks; some are angry that people won’t wear masks; some are angry that people are wearing masks, but their nose is out. If we want to be angry, all we have to do is turn on the news or look at our social media platforms.

If anyone had a reason to be angry, it was Jesus. Jesus knew that he was going to be betrayed by one of the twelve. We know from scriptures that more than the twelve followed Jesus. From the very beginning, from the Baptism of John, Matthias and Joseph called Barsabbas followed Jesus (Acts 1:21-23). Matthew and Luke both talk about the women who had followed Jesus from Galilee and provided for him (the women bankrolled his ministry). From this crowd of followers, Jesus had just 12 men in his inner circle, and it was one of these closest and most trusted that betrayed him.

Betrayal is probably the greatest reason to be angry, and yet…

Jesus knew Judas was going to betray him and he ate with him anyway.
Jesus knew Judas was going to betray him and he washed his feet along with the other disciples’ feet anyway.
Jesus knew Judas was betraying him, and he prayed for deliverance in the garden anyway.
Jesus knew full well what was happening, but received the kiss of betrayal from Judas anyway.

Jesus must have been at least partially in the mindset of the psalmist: “Even my best friend, whom I trusted, who broke bread with me, has lifted up his heel and turned against me.” Jesus had every right to be hurt and angry. Judas’ betrayal led to the cross, but despite that betrayal, Jesus healed the soldier’s ear, surrendered peacefully, and asked forgiveness for those who mocked, scourged, and crucified him, for they knew not what they had done.

I think we need to be like Jesus in dealing with anger. I think we need to be in community with those who anger us. We need to serve those who anger us. We need to pray for those who anger us and pray they do not live up to our worst expectations. We need to allow those who anger us to approach us. In our baptismal promises we profess that we will seek and serve Christ in all persons, which includes those who anger us. By communing with, serving, praying for, and allowing familiarity, we will likely not change them, but we may just change ourselves. 

Ready yourself for the Advent coming of Christ. Prepare your spiritual houses by purging the sin that makes us all unclean. When we repent, confess our sins, and ask forgiveness, God forgives and forgets. When Jesus arrives, he won’t remember how much dirt and grime were there before you cleaned your spiritual house because the sin has already been purged. While you are cleaning house, maybe start by purging the anger, that wrath that is all around us and is mucking up our lives.

The Rev. Mindy Valentine Davis
St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Fort Atkinson

Daily Advent Reflection: December 10

Second Thursday of Advent

Psalms 37:1-18 · 37:19-42
Isa. 7:1-9
2 Thess. 2:1-12
Luke 22:1-13

Three of the lessons designated for this day include a common theme: references to living in an anxious time, awaiting a better future—surely a condition we know all too well, in our here and now.

In Isaiah, we read about an alliance between two kingdoms, an alliance which causes the House of David and its leader to shake with fear, “as the trees in the forest shake before the wind.” But the Lord instructs Isaiah to say to them: “ ‘It shall not stand,/and it shall not come to pass.’” But in order for the House of David to be maintained, the people must have faith. “ ‘If you will not believe,/surely you shall not be established.’”

In Paul’s second letter to the Thessalonians, he reminds the brethren to whom he is writing that before the returning of the Lord Jesus, they must anticipate and endure a time of tribulation: “that day will not come, unless the rebellion comes first, and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the son of perdition.”

In both cases, we read of people who can look forward to a day of deliverance, but who must first endure hardships.

Psalm 37 develops this idea fully. The Oxford Annotated Bible provides a note which identifies the Psalm’s theme: “The certainty of retribution for the wicked. . . The argument is directed to those discouraged by the injustices which apparently dominate the world.”

How apt that seems to us, today. How is it possible to see the injustices of our own time and in our own place, and not be discouraged? We live in an age of bitter political and cultural division. We live in a society in which wealth is unevenly distributed. We see that racial discrimination seems to be inextricably wound into our social and political fabric. We live in a season of pandemic, a time in which we all have fears for our health, and the health and well-being of those we love. But we see also that even this illness seems unjustly to target the most vulnerable and disproportionately to infect communities of color. Like the audience of the Psalm, we seem to live in a world dominated by negative and malicious powers beyond our control.

The wicked who seem to dominate in the Psalm carry out “evil devices,” they use violence against the “poor and needy,” they seek to slay the righteous. But the Psalmist looks to a future in which the power of the wicked will be overcome, when they will “fade like the grass.” Their own violence will be turned against them. They will cease to exist, and their “posterity...  shall be cut off.”

But in the meantime, the Psalmist’s words of encouragement provide encouragement that we also can turn to in these days. The righteous are told not to fret, not to worry, to avoid anger and wrath, to do good and turn away from evil. To be still. To wait patiently. To wait for the Lord and keep his way.

This patient, faithful waiting, accompanied by actions of goodness will lead, the Psalmist says, to the promised deliverance. That deliverance is not simply retribution toward the wicked, but a fulfillment which the righteous can now anticipate, and, in the future, enjoy. Again and again, it is promised that the righteous will “possess the land.” Along with that, the righteous will “receive the desires of your hearts,” they will “delight themselves in abundant prosperity.” They will gain “salvation” and deliverance from the Lord. And the fulfillment is not theirs alone; rather, they are assured that “their heritage will abide forever” and, for the man of peace, “there is posterity.”

The idea of a future fulfillment is a link that ties these three readings to the reading from Luke’s gospel. In this reading, the narrative sets forth the instructions Jesus give his disciples for the preparation of the Passover meal. Inserted in between the reference to the upcoming Passover and the instructions is the information that “Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot” and a description of the plot he arranges with the chief priests and scribes to betray Jesus. We know that the lawless man, the wicked enemy will in a few hours triumph, and, over the next days, will seemingly overwhelm the righteous. But with the promise inherent within the Passover meal, we also know that the righteous one will prevail at last, and that, in the memorial of the Eucharist, we as members of Christ’s heritage and posterity will in the fullness of time live abundantly in the land that has been given us.

Mabel DuPriest
St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Racine

Daily Advent Reflection: December 9

Second Wednesday of Advent

Psalms 38 · 119:25-48
Isa. 6:1-13
2 Thess. 1:1-12
John 7:53--8:11

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I; send me!" (Isaiah 6:8)

In reading this passage from Isaiah during our season of pandemic and political turmoil, I’m struck by the conviction -- enthusiasm, even (note that exclamation point!) -- in the prophet’s response of “Here am I; send me!” to the Lord’s query. He accepts the call with no hesitation, no caveats or hedging, but merely a simple statement: “Here am I: send me!” In contrast, these days I frequently find myself dragging my feet, exhausted by even the idea of taking on one more responsibility, of leading one more virtual meeting, of masking up for one more stressful trip to the grocery store. I fear there are few exclamation points in my responses these days; certainly far fewer than I’d like.

In contrasting my own feelings of fatigue and reluctance with Isaiah’s enthusiastic declaration, I’m reminded of the story of another call, one that was received with hesitation, and even fear. In chapter four of the book of Esther, Jewish leader Mordecai begs his niece Esther, married to King, to plead for the lives of their people. But Esther hesitates; she is afraid to approach the King without a summons, knowing that it can mean death. It is then that Mordecai speaks these words, words that I have returned to over and over again during this pandemic: “Perhaps you were born for such a time as this.” Those words echo in my head when I wake up and struggle to get out of bed. When my to-do list feels overwhelming and never seems to get any shorter. When I fall into a spiral of self-pity, asking “Why me? Why us? Why now?” “Perhaps you were born for such a time as this.”

Perhaps we were all born for an Advent such as this. We are living through a season of pandemic and turmoil, but it is also the season of watching, of preparing, and of waiting in hope for the light that shines in the darkness. For that is what we are called to do as Christians, and whether we accept that call with the enthusiasm of Isaiah or the hesitation of Esther, it is our call nonetheless. God sees us in our struggles and our fears, and he is with us even -- and perhaps especially -- when we hesitate and doubt, calling "Whom shall I send” while reminding us, like Mordecai: “Perhaps you were born for such a time as this.”

Isaiah accepted God’s call, and ultimately Esther did too, saving the lives of the Jewish people with her courage and her strength. May God grant us all the courage of Esther and the enthusiasm of Isaiah, as we continue to live through these dark and uncertain days. May we all have the strength to respond to God’s call with “Here am I; send me!” and even when we cannot, may we know that we are still God’s beloved children, “born for such a time as this.”

Cindy Wilmeth
St. Boniface Episcopal Church, Mequon