By Regina Shands Stoltzfus, assistant professor of peace, justice and conflict studies at Goshen College
Reprinted from Advent Devotions SCRIPTURE: 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 (NRSV) DEVOTIONAL: Toddlers are notorious for resisting sleep. Life is much too exciting for boring old naps and the dreaded evening bedtime. Something might happen! Little ones can be quite comical (and/or maddening) in their quest to stay up “just a little while longer.” Teenagers, on the other hand, want and need more sleep. My now 23-year-old daughter epitomizes this dynamic to its utmost. As a little girl, she resisted naps and bedtime with all her might; if she wasn’t exhausted by her shenanigans, her parents certainly were! As a teenager and now a young adult, long naps became a coveted luxury. In today’s passage, Jesus’ words to the disciples are a reminder of the natural rhythm of life cycles. The disciples are looking for a sign. As the seasons change, they know what to expect. Year after year, even during the roughest of winters, spring eventually comes. The branch becomes tender. Remember that – God remains steadfast. Even so, Jesus urges the disciples to practice a mature balance of resting in the assurance of God’s presence, and being ready for the unexpected. When things are shaken up, the faithful should be prepared. The tradition of Watch Night services ties together this rhythm in a tangible way. Faith communities gather on New Year’s Eve to remember the year that has gone by and to pray together for the year that is about to unfold. They stay awake together as the New Year comes in as a sign of their preparedness. As you enter the Advent season, might you prepare a similar ritual of remembering and watching? SCRIPTURE: 1 Corinthians 1:3-9(NRSV) The Coming of the Son of Man But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see “the Son of Man coming in clouds” with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven. The Lesson of the Fig Tree From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. The Necessity for Watchfulness But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.
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By Steve Nolt, professor of history at Goshen College
Reprinted from Advent Devotions SCRIPTURE: 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 (NRSV) DEVOTIONAL: I’m reflecting on today’s text and this year’s Advent theme while in Nanchong, China, where my family has been accompanying a group of Goshen College students on their Study-Service Term. Thinking about hope in this context, I was reminded of the words of Lu Xun, one of China’s most important modern writers. In 1921 he wrote, “Hope cannot be said to exist, nor can it be said not to exist. It is just like roads across the earth. For actually the earth had no roads to begin with, but when many people pass one way, a road is made.” For Lu, hope was not abstract or distant, but emerged from persistent action, in the present, by people around him. I hear a similar sentiment from the Apostle Paul in today’s text. Amid all the things that might have discouraged him (read the rest of his letter to the Corinthians!), he found hope in God’s faithfulness as revealed in the ordinary lives of the believers in Corinth and in their daily witness in their world. They awaited a fuller revelation of the Lord, but their waiting was not an idle pause or an aimless hiatus. Enriched in speech and knowledge, not lacking in any spiritual gift, they were, imperfectly but surely, the living body of Christ in their community. And a road was made. May hope be revealed to us, not only as a distant destination, but also as the journey itself: in the small, sometimes faltering, steps of faith – our own and those around and before us – that carry us onward. And a road is made. SCRIPTURE: 1 Corinthians 1:3-9(NRSV) Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus, for in every way you have been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind — just as the testimony of Christ has been strengthened among you — so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ. He will also strengthen you to the end, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful; by him you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. By Joanna Epp, a junior at Goshen College
Reprinted from Advent Devotions SCRIPTURE: Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19 (3) (NRSV) DEVOTIONAL: Today’s passage follows the week’s theme of asking God to reveal hope in this Advent season. “Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved,” verse three implores. This phrase is repeated twice more in the selection, each time growing more urgent as the writer transitions from addressing the Lord as “O God” in verse three to “O God of hosts” in verse seven to “O Lord God of hosts” in verse 19. The imagery of God’s shining face is certainly powerful at this time of year. As the snow falls, we realize we must accept the inevitable — winter is here to stay. We draw back into hibernation, dreaming of blossoming flowers and warm breezes. It is the pitch black of winter mornings that we wake up to, early and cold, and too soon the darkness returns in early evening. At this dreary time of year, the promise of God’s gloriously shining face is an incredible and hopeful dream — one that perhaps we’d like to be here now, rather than some distant hope. But, as one of my favorite passages on hope reminds us, “For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience” (Romans 8:24-25). At this early point in Advent season, as we reluctantly accept the imminence of winter, it is helpful to remember that “hope that is seen is not hope.” The process of hoping, of longing — of Advent — is not just a means to an end; it is a very important and meaningful step along the way. SCRIPTURE: Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19 (3) (NRSV) To the leader: on Lilies, a Covenant. Of Asaph. A Psalm. Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel, you who lead Joseph like a flock! You who are enthroned upon the cherubim, shine forth before Ephraim and Benjamin and Manasseh. Stir up your might, and come to save us! Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved. O Lord God of hosts, how long will you be angry with your people’s prayers? You have fed them with the bread of tears, and given them tears to drink in full measure. You make us the scorn of our neighbours; our enemies laugh among themselves. Restore us, O God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved. But let your hand be upon the one at your right hand, the one whom you made strong for yourself. Then we will never turn back from you; give us life, and we will call on your name. Restore us, O Lord God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved. Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved. By Jim Brenneman, president of Goshen College
Reprinted from Advent Devotions, Goshen College SCRIPTURE: Isaiah 64:1-9 (NRSV) DEVOTIONAL: A potter friend and Goshen College alum, Dick Lehman, describes one of his pottery techniques as that of “capricious control.” He wraps a large leaf or other vegetation around an unfired clay pot, then covers it with sawdust, places it in a protective container called a saggar and puts it in the kiln. As a result of the heat and pressure in the kiln, a film of carbon penetrates the pot’s surface, creating a ‘fast-fossil’ leaf pattern on the pottery. Depending on the potter’s choice of temperature, glaze, even differing placements in the kiln, a beautiful piece of pottery emerges that clearly contains the potter’s art and skill and design. However, the overall splendor of the piece can be quite surprising – something hidden or furtive or mysterious made visible for the very first time, majestically revealed even to the artist. Isaiah, the poet of today’s Advent lesson (Isaiah 64:1-9), like all of us at times, longs for God’s mysterious presence to be revealed for all to see: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down.” He wants God to be seen and experienced blatantly like a “fire that kindles brushwood,” a fire that “boils the water,” or, perhaps, like the fire inside a kiln, violently hot and devastatingly destructive, especially toward one’s adversaries. He also acknowledges times when God’s hiddenness was surprisingly revealed in “awesome deeds we did not expect.” Whether by design or by surprise, he longs for God to be known by all. He concludes with the awareness that God may, indeed, be hidden due to a combination of divine design and willful human disobedience and likely many other factors as well. God, like a potter, has “capricious control” in designing and crafting the piece of pottery, choosing the shape, color, saggar and temperature. The final splendored pot, however, is a mystery revealed only in the final piece itself. The amazing, wonderful truth of this Advent season is that God did, indeed, “tear open the heavens and come down,” not as a violent, fiery, vengeful warrior or judge. Instead, God came to earth swaddled in a manger, in clay-like human form, whose divine and merciful presence is now most wonderfully revealed as a holy “treasure in clay-vessels” (2 Corinthians 4:7), the Spirit of Christ in you and me. The miracle of Advent is most simply named, Emanuel, God-with-us, Christ-in-us. I, for one, can’t wait to see the artfully designed, yet unpredictable beauty of God’s mystery revealed in each one of us. To the Divine Potter and to us, that may be the best Christmas surprise of all. SCRIPTURE: Isaiah 64:1-9 (NRSV) O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence-- as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil-- to make your name known to your adversaries, so that the nations might tremble at your presence! When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect, you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence. From ages past no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who works for those who wait for him. You meet those who gladly do right, those who remember you in your ways. But you were angry, and we sinned; because you hid yourself we transgressed. We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away. There is no one who calls on your name, or attempts to take hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us, and have delivered us into the hand of our iniquity. Yet, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand. Do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord, and do not remember iniquity for ever. Now consider, we are all your people. Reprinted from Advent Devotionals by Goshen College students, faculty and staff
By Bob Yoder, campus pastor DEVOTIONAL: “Impatience” – the opposite of “patience.” I excel in the former, struggle with the latter. As a youngster, “impatience” described my demeanor towards the Christmas presents my parents would eventually reveal to me. They didn’t wrap our presents, but placed them on the dining room table covered with blankets. On Christmas Eve, we kids would see the “mound of mystery,” wondering what secrets the blankets concealed. Now that I am all grown up, I am so glad that I have graduated from “impatience” to “patience”! (The last sentence is to be said with a sarcastic tone.) In a world of anxiety and fear, I get quite impatient with God at times, yearning for the hope to shine its light into the darkness. As I ponder our various global realities, I wonder where is the God for whom Isaiah calls out to “tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at [God’s] presence” (Isaiah 64:1) and the God for whom the Psalmist who cries “stir up your might, and come save us!” (Psalm 80:2)? As I reflect on the current affairs of my denomination, I wonder how Apostle Paul could confidently write “God is faithful; by him you were called into fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord” (I Corinthians 1:9) to a community of believers riddled with divisions? But then I am challenged by the words of Mark: “But in those days, after that suffering…Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory” (Mark 13:24, 26). Is God’s power and glory truly “hope?” I want to believe that, but what if it comes in a form that I don’t like? What if God’s revelation is not something that I can agree with? Can it still then be “hope?” PRAYER: O God, Revealer of Hope. Absolve my impatience and bolster my patience. |
Chad Hill
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April 2015
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