LOVE: God's Finest Gift

By Bob Henderson

On this Christmas Eve, I hope you’ll join me in pausing to appreciate the blessings of the year past. This year, in particular, has been rich for our family. Children have been home for holidays, friendships have been borne and renewed, work has been rewarding and good health in full supply. We’re grateful to our bones.

One particular blessing this year was the opportunity to take a sabbatical. For ten weeks in the summer, my schedule was open to do as I pleased, and I certainly tried to make the most of it. I enjoyed a week of solitude while hiking and biking in the high desert country of Utah. I hibernated in a log cabin in North Carolina and luxuriated in fine literature. I renewed old friendships across the south and even fulfilled a life-long dream of hiking the Dolomites while staying in old farmhouses (called refugios) and meeting other hikers from across the globe. Each experience exceeded every hope and expectation.

So, when I was asked, upon return, to name my single favorite experience on sabbatical, I paused to scan all my memories and was surprised by tears welling up in my eyes when I realized my answer. “Sharing dinner with my whole family,” I said. “One night I sat down with Suzanne, our three children, as well as my mother, and we shared fine food and great laughter for nearly two hours. It was lovely, sacred, nothing less than God’s finest gift.” I loved every minute of it.

Of all the things Christmas is about -- and it is about a lot, gifts, memories, rituals, faith -- more than anything it’s about love. Love born into our midst. Love shared with dear ones. Love expressed to new family members. Love recalled for family members no longer with us. It’s about love, God’s love born into the world that equips us to love fearlessly, love with abandon.

German theologian Helmut Thielicke put it beautifully. "All loving,” he said, “is ultimately thanksgiving for the fact that we ourselves have been loved.” (The Waiting Father, p.168)

The whole foundation of Christmas -- God’s son being born into the world -- reminds us that we are loved. The birth of the baby, when we understand it as a gift that conveys God’s unconditional love, says to you and me -- you matter, you have value, your life is worth my love.

LOVE: An Unlikely Friend

Read: Ephesians 4:1-3

By Bill Keith

Miss Bess was the first non-family member to really love me. From my earliest memories, she and her husband, a retired Presbyterian minister, sat on the pew behind our family every Sunday at Second Church in Concord. At 77, she was an unlikely friend to a new baby boy but for nearly 13 years she loved me as if I were her own. During the recent rainstorms, I was cleaning out old papers at home and stumbled upon this note in her scrawled handwriting.  

"My dear little Bill, I want you to use this to help get your education to do some kind of church work. You are very dear to me. I think you sing so well and can be a leader to help others and be a good help to so many. God bless and keep you in his love and care. Your friend with love, Miss Bess"

I was instantly transported to the day, nearly fifty years ago, when Miss Bess gave me this note along with some money that seemed like a fortune to a 10-year-old boy. She later told my dad that she had saved a little every week for me.

Miss Bess showed what it means when we affirm the baptismal question: "Do we the people of the church promise to tell this child the good news of the gospel, to help them know all Christ commands, and by our fellowship strengthen their family ties with the household of God?"

LOVE: Accepting God's Favor

Read: Luke 1:39-45 and Revelation 22:1-5

By Blaine Sanders

It was the best prenatal class of all time. Mary, pregnant with Jesus, went to visit Elizabeth, pregnant with John the Baptist. When Elizabeth heard Mary enter her house, her baby leaped in her womb, and she was filled with the Holy Spirit. Pregnancy is an exciting time, but this was something incredible. But then, as part of her exclamation, Elizabeth asked, "Why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?"

It is tempting during Advent for us to get hung up on "why" questions about God’s love. Why did God carry out His plan through humble, ordinary people like Mary and Elizabeth? Why did God choose to work through the Jews, many of whom rejected Him and a segment of whom conspired to put Him to death? Why did God invite each of us to join His unlikely family? In other words, why are we so favored?

I suppose people a lot smarter than me can offer answers to these questions, and that could make for stimulating discussions. But as we approach Christmas, does it really matter why God chose us? Isn’t the wonderful news that He did choose us? For no rationale reason, certainly not our innate goodness, God decided to send His Son so that we might live in His kingdom, both on earth and eventually in heaven. Despite her question, Elizabeth got it. She didn’t get hung up on why she was so favored. She quickly started telling Mary about her baby leaping in her womb and praising Mary for Mary’s faith. May we have that same faith that allows us to simply live in God’s love.

LOVE: Do Not Be Afraid

Read: Luke 2:8-10

By Elizabeth Ignasher

The angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with God." - Luke 1:30
Recently a friend said she was trying to learn to love without fear. And I thought YES – I want to learn that too.

But love is scary. People we love sometimes let us down, get sick, leave, betray us, suffer, and die. Every loving relationship holds its share of disappointments and pain. Many break our hearts. Who wouldn’t be afraid?

Yet God demonstrated the most wholehearted love ever known by sending God’s own beloved son to earth as a vulnerable baby FOR US. Surely God knew what we would do to that precious child. And God so loved the world that God sent him anyway.

In Luke’s story of this great love, the first reaction of almost everyone, upon hearing about it, is FEAR. The angels have to keep repeating: “Do not be afraid.”

What was it about seeing the “glory of the Lord” that terrified them? Perhaps they somehow understood this was a two-way street. God’s great love invites our wholehearted love in return, and we all know what that leads to…

Fear says: I don’t deserve this much love. I am alone. I am not enough. I can’t love this much. I will make a fool of myself. My heart will break.

And Love answers: I am giving you my very own son because I love you. I am with you in this tiny baby, who is the most powerful force in all of heaven and earth. Even after he dies he will live and remain with you. Love like this baby. Babies have no regard for the world’s opinion. Let your heart break – it’s worth it. You will find treasures inside when it breaks open.

No one wants to feel fear, and that keeps many of us from loving with our whole hearts. But love stares fear down and decides to risk it.

LOVE: God Loves Us All

Read: Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26 and Luke 1:26-38

By Perry Dixon

Before providentially finding Covenant this past June, I was amidst a year working with Wellspring, in Louisville, Ky. With Wellspring, my job was to help clients with severe and persistent schizophrenia learn to live independently in the city. Each day, I traveled all over, helping clients manage medications, attend appointments, manage budgets, learn cooking skills, develop healthy habits and navigate the labyrinth of dysfunction that is any government office. I could never explain all that I encountered in that wild, difficult, beautiful year.

When I first began, I was somewhat afraid. Those of us who have grown up in major cities know the unsettling feeling of a mentally ill person roaming nearby unmedicated on the street or on a bus. How easy it is to ignore someone we do not understand. My clients experienced persistent symptoms despite being on serious, regimented medications. The reality is that living in recovery from mental illness is complex, individually unique, and nothing like those of us in relative mental health might imagine.

One of my clients was a few years older than me, had survived homelessness for years in Chicago, lived with severe schizophrenia, as well as borderline intellectual functioning and Asperger's. Truly, he was a joy to work with each day, and hilarious too. As we tried to make brownies in a waffle iron one morning, much to his delight, God's love for him and for me could not have been more apparent. This Christmas, we remember that God’s love has abundance for the mentally ill, and even for us, too.

JOY: How Will We Prepare?

Read: Luke 3:1-6

By Jessica Patchett

In those days, in those crazy days, when the world seemed to be in constant turmoil and people couldn’t figure out who was trying to save the day and who would pose the next threat ... in those painfully somber days when people couldn't take one more bad news story … the word of God came to John, son of Zechariah in the wilderness.

In those days, in those busy days, when religious hearts found hope in King Herod’s construction project at Temple Mount in Jerusalem and political minds searched for wisdom among decrees from Rome and Syria … the word of God came to John, son of Zechariah … in the wilderness.

They were days not unlike our days. Regional power players sparred in local insurrections; families caught in hotzones weighed the terror of violence at home against the fear of becoming migrants in foreign lands; and religious leaders scrambled to construct moral and ethical scaffolding around the deteriorating old world order.

They were unsettling days. As confusion and chaos clamored on at full volume, the word of God whispered in the wilderness, “Prepare the way of the Lord; make his paths straight. Every valley be filled, every mountain and hill be made low; the crooked be made straight and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God."

The word of God, the salvation of God didn’t emerge from Jerusalem … or Rome … or the Temple … or a safe home or state-of-the-art hospital. The word of God was heard in the wilderness and born to a couple who became refugees trying to save their newborn son from being killed by a vengeful king.

Human beings saw the salvation of God born in a manger, in part, because of the selfless hospitality of a Palestinian innkeeper. Shepherds keeping their flocks by night saw the salvation of God, in part, because wise Eastern emissaries shifted their allegiances from a vengeful king to the prince of peace. We have seen the salvation of God grow in wisdom and stature, in part, because everyday Egyptians welcomed two young Jewish refugees who gave up everything to keep their child, God’s child, safe from harm.

A Palestinian innkeeper, Eastern wise men and dignitaries, Egyptian families, and Jewish refugees prepared the way for all flesh to see the salvation of God.

In these crazy, busy, unsettling, fearful days, I wonder, how will we do the same?

JOY: Where is the Joy Made Real?

By Sally Graves

A vacuum! It’s a vacuum! It’s a vacuum for me! Yay!

It was actually a dust-buster on a handle, but in the eyes of my 3-year-old grandson, he had been given (by his parents) the best possible birthday present. No need for other presents (grandparents' best efforts to the contrary). Hold off on the candles and the singing. This was delight in its full perfection, not to be distracted. We could see it on his face, hear it in his voice, read it in his body language. A new-found vacuum treasure in a house full of carpets. Joy without limit; joy made real. In so many ways it was a moment above the rest; a moment to savor.

For me, the vacuum cleaner moment has long since passed, but the savoring remains. It’s a delight that often plays in my head (and on my phone, if you’d care to see it). It takes me back to the image of a child, my grandchild, so fully known and wonderfully loved that the only possible response, from him and all who shared that moment, was joy.

And now, here were are in Advent, with Christmas close at hand. For many, the delights of the season are easy and everywhere. For others, they are diluted by distractions. Calendars are crammed with commitments. Heartache makes the reality of delight hard to hold. And so we wonder: Where are our vacuum cleaner moments, the ones that ask us to stop and savor, that insist that we are fully known and wonderfully loved? Where is the joy made real? Waiting for us, in a manger.

JOY: Draw Us Forth

Read: Isaiah 28:14-22 and Revelation 20:11-21:8

"Draw Us Forth" 
by Evan Amo 
Watch Evan Sing "Draw Us Forth" on YouTube

I know I’m waiting for a world to come
Where every division will be made one
This world has but one hope, our Risen Lord
For every disjointed soul he will restore

As I cry out longing
As my spirit groans

For the day that you come again
Where pain and tears will finally end
Draw us forth, draw us in
Into the space between the day and night
As your Spirit’s making all things right
Use us Lord, as you’re making all things new

This world is aching for you to vanquish sin
For every life to be embraced as your image
You will fully liberate those who are oppressed
And conquer every power in love and justice
And as the dark of night is passing away
We work towards your coming justice today
And as the dawn is surely drawing near
Help live out your healing love right here

Help us live out your healing love here
As we look toward the dawn that’s drawing near
Until the day that you come again
Where pain and tears will finally end
Draw us forth, draw us in

JOY: Part of God's Plan

Read: Isaiah 11:1-9

By Shana Hartman

Sometimes I think I make life harder than it really is or than God intends it to be.

I worry, search for answers, and worry some more. Despite my repeated best efforts, I realize over and over that I ultimately wind up right where God intends me to be all along.

One example I reflect on in this season of joy is how I met my husband. About seven years ago I had it all figured out: my current job was not for me and I needed to move on. After submitting numerous applications near and far, and spending lots of time worrying about where I would end up, I received a random voicemail from a guy I worked with but barely knew existed at the time.

The coming months sent me down a path of love and joy unlike any I had experienced. Our relationship grew with ease and with God. I never doubted. I never wondered. God showed up, pointed me in a completely different path than my human mind could fathom, and I (thankfully) heeded His call. I felt “God-Alive, a living knowledge of God ocean-deep, ocean-wide” (Isaiah 11:9 The Message).

While worry will come and my efforts to "do" life on my own will persist now and then, my hope this Advent season is that I can continue to trust in the ease of the Lord and realize that all the other fuss is just distracting background noise.

JOY: God is With Us

Read: Isaiah 12:2-6 and Psalm 100.

By Jerry Jernigan

Frederick Buechner wrote a sermon entitled, "Message in the Stars." In it he wonders what would happen if God literally wrote in the stars, "I REALLY EXIST." He imagines that, after some period of astonishment (and, no doubt, repentance), a child asks "so what?" And the message disappears.

We all want certainty that God is "up there" but scientific or philosophical proof won’t, in the long run, address our deepest needs. Buechner says "what we need to know, of course, is not just that God exists [like some] cosmic intelligence of some kind that keeps the whole show going, but that there is a God right here in the thick of our day-by-day lives..."

Isn’t that the Good News of the Gospels? God came to be with us and, through the Holy Spirit, continues to be with us. Here and now. In the doctor’s waiting room before the scan. Past curfew as we wait for a child’s return. When the umpteenth job interview doesn’t land a job. In times of fulfillment and gratitude and in lonely moments when we wonder if God, or anyone, would miss us if we were gone.

Soon we’ll celebrate the birth of a baby born to a young couple in a hard, challenging time. In some mysterious way, this baby was human and God, Emmanuel – God with us – in the easy days and the hard, the ordinary and the exceptional. So make a joyful noise! Be joyful! God is with us.

JOY: Experiencing Joy This Season

Read: Amos 8:4-12; 2 Corinthians 9:1-15

By Julian Wright
 

This Advent, like most, I am struck by the incongruities. A helpless babe as a Messiah. The lure and lucre of commerce in a season meant to be about redeeming love and – if the manger story retains any relevance – a certain simplicity of living. In today’s scripture, I am struck by the incongruities even more. Amos sends a clear warning on the perils of wealth to greedy capitalists and anyone not nearly attentive enough to the needs of the poor. (Amos 8:4-12). I find the message daunting as my law partners and I gather in much of the bounty of a years’ worth of work, and many of our clients finish deals and tally up balance sheets for the IRS’s year-end deadlines. Yet, we juxtapose Amos with Paul’s (the conventional writer of at least parts of 2 Corinthians) praise of zeal in giving and reaping abundantly. (2 Corinthians 9:1-15). Indeed, in this season of giving – as always, even if a bit late for stewardship season – we are reminded that “God loves a cheerful giver.” (2 Corinthians 9:7).

It is often in such incongruities – these admitted mysteries of life – that I find the Joy of this Season. In heeding Amos’ warning and going from not trampling on the poor and needy to actually trying to help out on occasion, I glimpse hope and perhaps provide it for those I more conscientiously reach out to help. In bountiful giving – in whatever form – I aspire to do as much good and spread as much love in Paul’s “ministry of the saints” as I can. The Joy comes most readily in lighting up the eyes of a child, a family member, a friend, an acquaintance, or a stranger – all of whom give to me in some form and to whom I try to give to in some reciprocal measure – with some type of gift during this time of year and trying to extend that Joy throughout the year. For today, heed Amos’s warning; emulate the generosity of the church at Corinth in giving; and experience the Joy of the Season.

JOY: God's Greatest Gift

Read: 1 Peter 1:8-9 and James 1:2-3

By Elizabeth Anne Cooper

Immediately, the first image in my mind upon hearing this phrase is a large red box with a green bow and in big, gold letters “JOY” is written across the side. I’m not sure if I am embarrassed with the fact that my mind immediately goes to a materialistic object or the fact that my pre-Holiday gift giving stress is starting to kick in.

Either way, one thing is for certain, joy cannot be wrapped up in a pretty box with a large green bow or placed on our doorstep whenever we “place an order” to God. More importantly, joy should not always be confined, contained, or come from a tangible object. Joy can be delivered in so many different ways; the kicker is allowing our hearts to truly see it.

A few months ago someone prompted me with the challenge to focus on three positive things that happened that day instead of focusing on the one, large negative. Through this, I quickly came to realize something I have been taught all along, but rarely practiced in my daily routine: Staying in a constant companionship with God allows us to see more and more glimpses of His beauty and offerings of His everlasting joy. Whether it be a stranger with a kind gesture, a good laugh with coworkers, or an embrace from a loved one (pets included); each of your days are prompted with gifts of joy from above. Our job is to simply seek them out, even on the grayest of days.

PEACE: A Gift of Giving

By Diane McAlonan

Sometimes I don’t FEEL like being one of God’s “soldiers.” I feel unworthy, a bit useless, maybe a little down, too. But I carry on anyway.

One of the ways I “carry on” is to go to the mountains to be of service to my beloved, elderly parents. This usually gives me an abundant FEELING of gratitude, but even when it doesn’t, I have to remember that service is not really about the FEELING I get from it and it’s certainly not about ME. It’s about DOING something that helps others, and it’s about GIVING of myself, even if I don’t FEEL like it.

My father had a major heart attack in 2008, which left him with only ¼ use of his heart – the other ¾ is dead ... gone.

One day, he and I were cleaning the gutters on the house. He worked from his lawn chair with a bucket of Clorox water and brush cleaning gutter guards, and I stood on the ladder flushing and cleaning the gutters.

When we finished, he relaxed in a chair on the porch in the sun and fall leaves. He looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes and said “It makes my heart feel good to have you here working with me – it really does – it makes my heart feel good. I’ve worked so hard all my life and done so many things all by myself…”

WOW! A feeling of G-R-A-T-I-T-U-D-E washed over me. If I died tomorrow, I couldn’t have been given a better gift. I thanked my Dad for his words. The fact that I had done something to make my Dad’s heart feel good… It was a gift of life – from God – forged through us and our work together. It was a gift of peace.

PEACE: God's Gift Which Passeth All Understanding

By Anna Caldwell

The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God, and of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord; and the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, be amongst you, and remain with you always. Amen.

This prayer for peace was offered in every church service of my childhood. As a young person, it was a long-winded jumble of unnecessary words. Peace was so obvious...pictures of Baby Jesus, no war, school bullies at bay, gas crisis ended, …gees, grown-ups, can’t you get that? As an adult, I’m SO grateful these words are carved on my heart and mind. They come back to me when I don’t know how pray, and need words. Thank you God for mom and dad, for making me go to church.

We don’t get much peace, do we? Snatches every now and then. When I was in college I had no peace. Like for four years, I was a disaster.

Take that back - I had one moment of peace so profound it’s a benchmark in my Christian witness. One particularly awful night, I took my misery to the campus chapel. On my knees, sobbing, mercifully alone, I was so desperate for equilibrium that my need to understand why this was my condition ceased. My heart begged for respite I knew no human work could give me. I got it. For several moments I experienced a physical peace that was just as if someone had blanketed me. I was stilled, completely whole, calm. Later, I learned my mom and her friends were praying for me at the same time.

That moment of peace didn’t change my circumstances; I was still a total wreck. God had a lot of work cut out for me, and He still does! But, over the years, that personal, physical experience of peace and the well-worn childhood prayer for peace have co-mingled, and press on my Christian person every day.

At 44, here’s what I think about peace:

God’s peace is a gift, that “passeth all understanding.” I can’t explain the extraordinary comfort I felt in those crucial moments, years ago. But it was real.

Peace requires a sort of arrest of “our hearts and minds.” It is absolutely our work to train our Christian minds in thought, word and deed: memorize scripture, pore over God’s word, employ our best Christian choices and practices. It is equally our work to pray humbly from the heart, to grasp that we do not fully control our circumstances; to ask earnestly that God’s will is done, and then... stand back!

PEACE: O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel,
that mourns in lonely exile here until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, thou Wisdom from on high, who orderest all things mightily:
to us the path of knowledge show; and teach us in her ways to go.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, O come, thou Lord of might, who to thy tribes on Sinai’s height
in ancient times didst give the law in cloud and majesty and awe.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, thou Root of Jesse, free thine own from Satan’s tyranny;
from depths of hell thy people save and give them victory o’er the grave.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, thou Key of David, come, and open wide our heavenly home;
make safe the way that leads on high, and close the path to misery.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, thou Dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by thine advent here;
disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Desire of nations, bind all peoples in one heart and mind;
bid envy, strife, and discord cease; fill the whole world with heaven’s peace.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

Translator: John Mason Neale (1851)
Tune: VENI EMMANUEL (Chant)

PEACE: We are Restored

Read: John 8:3-11 and Psalm 126:1-3


By Jen Christianson

Neither do I condemn you, Jesus says to the woman. And he sends her out, restored. Restored to community, perhaps; restored in the eyes of her condemners, maybe; but I think restored most of all in her own sight. Restored, because the Lord refused to condemn her.

“Who is in a position to condemn?”

It’s a question we hear in worship, in the declaration of pardon. A strange place to find it, because the answer to that question – only Christ – is the same person who forgives us. The only one who can really condemn us is the one to save us. It’s an upside-down reality, too good to be true, and yet this story from John shows us that it is true.

It feels too good to be true. It must be too good to be true – we must be like those who dream in Psalm 126. But then we hear again the words of Jesus: “neither do I condemn you.” He didn’t then, and he doesn’t now, and it isn’t a dream – it is real.

Sometimes we speak of these miracles in the past tense: “The Lord has done great things for us,” but they are also present and future. Redemption was granted to this woman when she least expected it, and healing, and restoration – and it has been ours, and is ours, and will be ours.

In Advent, when we’re faced with the brokenness of this world, with the brokenness inside, when this promise from Jesus seems like a dream, we can read these passages, and hear again this reassurance. The dream is true: we are whole, and forgiven, and redeemed in God’s sight – the only sight that matters.

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PEACE: Little Light

By Carson Brisson

"Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you."  Isaiah 60:1 (NRSV)

It was Wednesday, Sept. 12, 2001. Ground Zero in New York was not yet quite a day old.

My wife, Lou Ann, and I were walking before dawn on lovely paths around quiet fields near our home. A warm, late-summer breeze was blowing. We love walking when there is a breeze.

On this morning, we were mostly silent. But after some time, I mentioned a colleague who had a friend who had been working at the World Trade Center the day before. My colleague's friend had escaped with minor injuries but great sadness.

As we neared a turn, I remarked that the course I called "Baby Bible" was convening for its first fall session later in the day. Lou Ann replied that she had been thinking about that as well. I noted that because there were no prerequisites for the course there were students on the roster who were just beginning their seminary education. I further noted that each time I taught the course I began its first section with a lecture and discussion on the theme of “light” based on Genesis 1, John 1, and selected passages from Isaiah, but that in view of the unfolding shock and sorrow of the previous day I now hardly knew what to do.

Out of the darkness, with a hint of the new day just over her steady shoulders, Lou Ann replied, gently and without hesitation, with words I can still recall nearly to the syllable: "Carson. Give them and yourself a prayerful moment. After that, ask them if they know 'This Little Light of Mine.' They will know it. Sing it together. Sing all verses. Then, go right ahead with the class. What was true of the light is still true of the light."

Beloved, the nations rage. The nations are not yet gathered on God’s holy mountain, whereupon all war, all predation, all privilege, all division, and all parting shall forever cease. But the light, which will end every darkness in all lands and in our hearts and in the hearts of friend and foe alike, is shining. It shines in and from a manger, and it shines to the end of the age.

Oh come, oh please come Emmanuel.

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PEACE: Finding Peace through Chaos

Read: John 14:26-27

By Erin Schroeder

Peace: Freedom from disturbance; quiet and tranquility. Mental calm; serenity. Freedom from or the cessation of war or violence. After reading the definitions of this beautiful word, it seems hard to believe that we associate "peace" with this time of year. Doesn't it sometimes feel like the complete opposite? The pressure we put on ourselves to check off every holiday tradition on our lists (which grows longer each year): shopping, wrapping, baking, traveling, parties, etc. can be overwhelming and the opposite of calm.

For some, this might be a time of year that feels hard to be free from disturbance due to strained relationships or painful memories. Still others (some in our own city) will still not experience freedom from war or violence that is their daily life.

But, God promises his peace to us this moment and always. Advent is a time for us to look for God's peace and serenity and directly contrast this to the chaos that the world uses to persuade us this time of year.

Oswald Chambers offers us this in our time of disturbance: "Are you looking unto Jesus now, in the immediate matter that is pressing and receiving from Him peace? If so, he will be a gracious benediction of peace in and through you." When we are at peace, we are able to reflect God's peace and calmness to those around us. Isn't that, after all, what this time of year is truly about?

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PEACE: Finding Lasting Peace

Read: Luke 1:68-79, Philippians 1:12-18a


By Chaz Snider

Peace can be elusive. Whether in our personal life or the political world, peace often feels momentary, fleeting, or temporary. It can feel like we need to hold onto peace when we have it because we know it will be gone soon or it may seem like peace is solely based on external circumstances. But, we are invited by God’s redemptive story into a deeper understanding and experience of peace.

In Luke’s gospel, we find the first words Zechariah speaks after God restores his capacity to speak. His words are reminiscent of the Hebrew prophets, reminding God's people of God's faithfulness, goodness and mercy. As he closes, he speaks of a new dawn that will, "guide our feet into the way or peace." That way of peace is greater than our external situations, greater than our daily pressures, and stronger than our deepest conflicts. The way of peace Zechariah speaks of is an internal reality that holds fast in the midst of external chaos.

But we are still left with the question of where does this peace come from? To wrestle with this question we can turn to Paul's words to the Philippians. Here, from prison, Paul writes about Christ as his source of confidence, his center point of peace. And like Paul, Christ remains our source of real lasting peace. So this time of advent can remind us that it was God stepping into our world of human experience that forged new and lasting ways of peace.

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HOPE: It Only Takes a Minute

Read: I Thessalonians 4:13-18

By Addie Rising

"But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope." I Thessalonians 4:13

When you’re seven years old, a minute is an eon and an hour is an eternity … which makes sense since a seven year old only has about 32,000 hours for reference. I, on, the other hand … well, I might break my calculator. Let’s just say it’s a few thousand more. But these minutes, as a parent, can elicit all kinds of emotion: joy, anger, amusement, grief and, more often than not, hope.
Each morning during the school year, once the rush to get out the door is finished and we’re confined to the car for the five-minute ride to school, my seven-year-old son, Joseph, has my undivided attention. Our discussions vary widely from the mundane – “did you brush your teeth?” -- to borderline-philosophical – “so if clean my room better than my sisters, am I a better person?” – to complete silliness – “Knock, knock …”.

And then sometimes I get, “I miss Papa Alan.”

When you’re seven, you speak of lost loved ones – especially ones you have never met – the same way you would speak of a family member who lives far away that you’ve never met or have met, but you can’t quite recall the meeting. You’ve missed the loss and grief aspects of death, but the missing and the longing aspects are still there. Joseph will talk about how he misses his Uncle Andy (who lives in California) or his Papa Alan (my father-in-law, who passed away years before Joseph was born). The reference is the same. My response, however, is not. “Hopefully, we’ll get to see Uncle Andy soon.” Because, this can still happen. As for Papa Alan, well, Joseph will never meet him. Joseph will never know Papa Alan the same way my husband knew him or the way I knew him. But I’m still hopeful. Hopeful that we can teach Joseph about his Papa Alan through stories and pictures to help fill that void that he feels, a void we all feel this time of year.

So our morning five-minute commute to school has expired and as we say our goodbyes and I watch Joseph skip into the school hallway, I smile. I head to work filled with hope and am grateful I have another 30 eons in the car to think about my family -- past, present, near and far.

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HOPE: Believing in God's Plan

Read: Philippians 4:4-7
 

By Amy Sullivan

Five years ago, my loving father passed away unexpectedly from a massive heart attack. This tragic event marked the beginning of an extremely difficult period of time. My family and I experienced job insecurity, debt, addiction issues, depression, anxiety and in all honesty, like many marriages, loneliness and confusion.

I knew bad things happened to good people – I just hadn’t experienced it. Prior to my father's death, moments of grief, fear, or anger tended to be fleeting; I was able to agree with those who would say, "God doesn’t give you more than you can handle." My new reality was different. It felt unmanageable. I had lost hope. Or, was it faith?

I have always believed in God and enjoyed praying. My prayers were usually prayers of gratitude and thanks, or prayers of assistance for a friend in need. Now my prayers became cries to God for help and understanding. I questioned God. Where was God? Why was my life in such chaos?

As I lamented on this with a close friend, she stated, "You love well." She went on to say that she was in awe of my ability to show love and compassion. She praised my ability to hope.

Hope is the desire for something good and the BELIEF that it is attainable. Biblical hope is even stronger -- it is a faith and belief that God has a plan.

I hope for a stronger marriage built on love, trust, and forgiveness. I hope for a stronger relationship with God based on faith. I hope to have understanding and accept God’s plan for me. I hope to eventually return to a place of peace in my mind and in my heart. I know that through Christ, all things are possible.

So, I lean on these words from Philippians: "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious in anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

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HOPE: Finding Joy through Grief

Read: John 1:1-5

By Kim Moseley

Hope, Peace, Joy, Love - words or symbols associated with Advent can ring hollow because this season conjures up feelings of hopelessness, unrest, grief and loneliness for many. I have felt this paradox acutely this fall as one of the facilitators for GriefShare, a 13-week program at Covenant for those grieving loved ones. As the holidays approach statements like "How do I get through? How do I cope?" have been common. This season can feel more like a sense of dread and we don't have to have experienced a recent loss to share this sentiment. But I wonder if there is not space to hold both, both grief and joy, fear and peace, hope and loneliness? Brother David Steindle-Rast, an Austrian Benedict says "grief and joy are more like twin sisters than the sworn enemies we often take them to be. Both speak to listening hearts. Both contain unfathomable depths of feeling. And both point towards gratefulness: grief comes from a heartrending appreciation of what matters most to us, while joy reawakens us to life's wonder even when we've discovered how precarious it is."

In Henry Nouwen's book "Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life" he writes "Learning to weep, learning to keep vigil, learning to wait for the dawn, perhaps this is what it means to be human. In the midst of our sadness there is joy, in the midst of our fears there is peace, in the midst of our greediness there is the possibility of compassion." This makes me think of how Jerry Sittser in his book, "Grace Disguise," following the death of his mother, wife and daughter in a tragic car accident, describes the soul as being elastic, like a balloon. It can grow larger through suffering allowing for the experience of greater joy, strength, peace, and love as well as the natural and legitimate emotions of anger, depression, despair, and anguish. So maybe this Advent we can embrace the paradox and the mystery that “the light shines on the inside of the darkness, and the darkness will not overcome it" (John1:5) by holding all emotions we experience with kindness and nonjudgment. 

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HOPE: Thankful for God's Provisions

Read: Psalm 147: 7-11

By Ashlee Anderson

The Christmas season brings with it a feeling of hope. As Webster puts it hope is “to cherish a desire with anticipation” or “to expect with confidence.” This time of year most children are putting their hopes in a jolly old man who flies all around the world in one night, slides down every chimney, eats thousands of cookies without getting full and there isn’t a doubt in their minds that it cannot
be done. Am I crazy to wish my faith were like that?

Often my heart wanders to places of want, especially during this season, and at the end of the day none of those unneeded requests will fill my soul's true desires. Reading today’s verse reminds me how much and how richly God already provides. I wake up and have breath in my lungs, two stable feet on the ground, hands to serve, a heart to love, eyes to see His beauty, and ears to hear the music God gives to the world. That is a miracle that I can celebrate more than just once a year. My hope is that our hearts would not lack in gratitude, in thanksgiving, in praise for the gifts God presents to each of us daily. To not take pause once a year and see His goodness but to “sing to the Lord with grateful praise” all the year long and to put our hope not in excessive wants but in God’s gracious, merciful, unfailing love.

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HOPE: I Cannot Keep From Singing

Passages: Micah 4:1-5 and Psalm 79

By Ariel Gritter 

My Life Flows On: How Can I Keep from Singing?
Glory to God #821

My life flows on in endless song, above earth’s lamentation. I hear the clear, though far-off hymn that hails a new creation.

No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that Rock I’m clinging. Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth, how can I keep from singing?

Through all the tumult and the strife, I hear that music ringing. It finds an echo in my soul. How can I keep from singing?

What though my joys and comforts die? I know my Savior liveth. What though the darkness gather round? Songs in the night he giveth.

The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart, a fountain ever springing! All things are mine since I am his! How can I keep from singing?

No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that Rock I’m clinging. Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth, how can I keep from singing?

This hymn became my mantra the summer of 2014, after a trip to the Holy Land and the Gaza war that broke out soon after we returned. The plea to help Jerusalem expressed in Psalm 79 surely remains on the lips of her residents today, and we see tumult and strife in our own country, too. This present reality seems so far removed from the wonderful, hopeful vision unfolding in Micah: All people of the world coming to Jerusalem to learn peace! Humming this hymn reminds me of the hope Christ gives our world. Our present reality is not the final word and truly I cannot keep from singing!

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