By Hannah Barg, a sophomore at Goshen College Reprinted from Advent Devotionals One of the most important aspects of my spiritual journey throughout the years has been the connection I feel to God when I am immersed in the outdoors. As a child, my father would frequently take me on bike rides and hikes through a local forest preserve. Each time we went on these excursions, we would venture off the trail briefly to visit a magnificent old oak tree. While there we journaled, prayed and enjoyed God’s beautiful creation together. Everyone needs the wilderness in their lives, a place where they can escape from the hustle and bustle and meet with God. One of the most difficult times to do this is during the busy holiday season, where it seems that other concerns and plans take precedence over our spiritual commitments. The truth is, we need this time alone with God especially to prepare for the celebration of Christ’s birth. John the Baptist devoted his life to living in the wilderness, and drew the crowds there to baptize and speak the Good News about Jesus. He knew that someone greater was to follow him, one whose sandals he was not worthy to untie. In preparation for Christ’s coming, John encouraged people to repent and restore a right relationship with God. We should do the same as we prepare to honor Christ’s birth and the hope that this brings for all of us. During this busy season, may we all find time to retreat with God in the wilderness. Matthew 3:1-12 (3) (NRSV)
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By James Townsend, vice president for admissions and marketing at Goshen College Reprinted from Advent Have you ever lived in a community where you knew the people who lived next door and across the street or hall? For me growing up, it seemed that living near to someone meant doing life together. I remember my parents talking with neighbors on a regular basis – at home, at the grocery store, at church and at numerous places of business. Yet looking back I realize how protected and sheltered I was to people different than myself. We only recognized the holidays that we cared about, were only concerned about the traditions we inherited or started, only worshipped the way we were taught and only served people who looked much like we did. In college this changed a bit when I lived with someone who was not a family member and didn’t have the same beliefs, traditions and attitudes that my family and I had growing up. It was the first time I remember having to allow for other versions of “community” life. Over the past few years I’ve had the opportunity to work with people who I don’t look like, don’t act like, don’t share common beliefs with or honor similar traditions, and these years have been some of the best of my life because I have been able to see Christ through sameness and differences. Do you have someone in your community that you don’t look like, talk like, share beliefs with, celebrate the same holidays, or has a different political view than you? Take time to celebrate that diversity – knowing that God is present in all cultures and people. And during this Advent season, may the Holy Spirit bless you and your family with a spirit of unity and harmony. Romans 15:4-13 (NRSV) By Jonathon Schramm, assistant professor of sustainability and environmental education at Goshen College Reprinted from Advent Devotionals As contemporary people, I believe that many of us aren’t sure what to make of the role of kings in our lives. For many people, kings are only historical persons, and even in countries where monarchs exist, they are often more figureheads than legislative authorities. This makes it difficult for us to deeply resonate with the idea of Christ as King, although we can certainly see many glimmers in our lives of what that kingship might mean. Personally, I tend to think first of bowing before the King, and trying to live my life in fidelity to Christ as my King. But Psalm 72 emphasizes a completely different aspect of kingship — the flourishing of justice and peace in a country ruled by a monarch after God’s own heart. The psalmist petitions God to strengthen the king for the express purpose of bringing righteousness and justice to the land. As that happens, even the land itself will bring forth the means for just and prosperous lives for all. This ripple effect moving out from the king’s decrees is likened to steady, life-giving rains, which stands in direct contrast to the images that mark many other Scripture passages of drought and desolation resulting from ungodly monarchs. And of course, if a human monarch can cause this degree of life-giving change, our King Jesus can bring that in its fullness. The wonder of Advent, of course, is that we celebrate the ongoing arrival of this new vitality, even in the dark seasons of our lives. With the psalmist we pray, “blessed be God’s glorious name forever; may God’s glory fill the whole earth. Amen and Amen!” Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19 (NRSV) By Quinn Brenneke, a public relations major at Goshen College Reprinted from Advent Devotionals When I was younger, Christmas time was my favorite part of the year. As soon as the tree went up at my grandmother’s, I knew that more of my favorite traditions were to come: Aunt Geraldine’s sugar cookies; hide-and-seek in the crevices of my grandparents’ old, creaky home in Richmond, Ind.; living room floors covered in colorful, wadded-up wrapping paper. It all made sense to me; those little pieces of Christmas all fit together so nicely. The prophet Isaiah told stories of a future when things will fit together nicely that don’t go together now. He said “the wolf shall live with the lamb” and “the calf and the lion together” and all these would be lead by “a little child.” The world will be pleasantly full of paradoxes. What a mystery of a place to live! Eventually, Jesus fulfilled Isaiah’s paradoxical prophecy, arriving as fully human and fully God. He was perfect, but bent down to a woman caught in adultery (John 8:1-11) and washed the feet of his followers (John 13:1-20). “The kingdom of God is at hand,” he said (Matt. 10:7), yet it is still coming (Luke 17:20-37). The things that don’t seem to fit were those that Jesus put together. My favorite Christmas tradition happens at midnight every Christmas Eve. To the sound of church bells, my family gathers with my grandparents’ congregation in an old, historic Lutheran cathedral. The lights go off, and the tall room is illuminated by candles as we sing “Silent Night” a cappella in German and English. Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht! Alles schläft, einsam wacht. The tune moves through the pews and the flames dance at the sound. Light meets darkness, and all is calm. Isaiah 11:1-10 (NRSV) By Joanna Epp, a sophomore at Goshen College Reprinted from Advent Devotionals THIS WEEK’S SCRIPTURES: God’s kingdom is here. As I thought about this theme and read the lectionary Scriptures this week — the coming of Jesus’ birth, the story of John the Baptist, the Old Testament Scripture foretelling the birth of a Savior — the beautiful simplicity of the statement kept jumping out at me. God’s kingdom is already here, in place, right now. So, what are we doing about it? How are we celebrating?
The kingdom of God has often been described as radical, an “upside-down kingdom.” The more I learn about the message of the New Testament, the more I believe that God’s kingdom truly is radical. Where else can we find someone telling us to throw self-interest behind and love our enemies, do good to those who harm us? It’s incredible, really. So, I challenge you today to pause for a bit. Think about it for a moment. God’s kingdom is here. And ask: What does that mean for you right now, as we enter into the Advent season? What can you do today, be it small or large, to further God’s radical, “upside-down kingdom”? By Abby Deaton, a junior communication major at Goshen College Reprinted from Advent Devotionals No one knows the day or the hour when it will strike. For me, it was September 28, 2013, around 2 p.m. No warning. No reason. But on that day, at that hour, I developed an illness, and it has been a battle. My semester at school has panned out very differently than I had planned. My illness radically changed every aspect of my life for the past two months. No warning. No reason. There is this sense of injustice when negative events happen in our life without warning. We want reasons. We desperately seek explanations for those events because suffering without purpose seems cruel. This seems especially true during the Advent season, when we spend our time rejoicing, when we spend our time reflecting on the word of God. Tainting this traditionally blessed time just seems cruel. Three weeks ago, my illness took a turn for the worse. Three weeks ago, I had all but lost hope in ever feeling normal again. We are told that we cannot know the hour or “on what day your Lord will come.” Two weeks ago, I began to recover. Both my illness and my recovery came without warning, but I no longer believe it was without purpose. There are good friends who I would not have met. There were close friends that I would have never understood otherwise. There were changes in my friend’s life that may have never occurred. There were personal revelations I’m not sure I would have come to. We are asked to prepare for the Lord, to “be ready” for the day the Lord comes. Faith is our best preparation. Faith that God will deliver us from evil. Faith that God is always near. Faith that God has a greater plan. We may not be given any warning, but we are given faith that there is a reason. We may not know the day or the hour, but we can have faith in the outcome. Matthew 24:36-44 (NRSV) By Annabeth Tucker, a senior English writing major at Goshen College Reprinted from Advent Devotionals Bananas ripen. Baby giraffes are born. Chimpanzees eat tiny, tasty bugs off each others’ backs. A flamingo dies. Water drops down from pregnant clouds, and, eventually, evaporates back up. The ocean—big and blue and full—waves and waves. Wind circulates across the earth’s surface, searching and knowing. From the mating song of a cardinal bird to the crevices and craters on our earth’s moon, God knows everything. His love is greater than we can fathom and far beyond what we deserve. Yet God freely lavishes God’s love on creation, on us. God is found in overripe fruit and awkward infant giraffes, but God is also found in us, in the miracle of ear canals and eyeballs. The awe, the wonder, the mystery of being made in God’s image is astounding. The majesty of God coming to be with us in our own form is what we anticipate to celebrate on Christmas. Have you encountered this God of the mountains, the valleys, the animals and the storms—the God of the universe? The God of it all who, in all God’s glory, still wants a personal relationship with you. Now is the time, brothers and sisters. In the midst of bellowing whales, buff ants, eroding boulders and bright stars, human beings have a place. Now is the time to open our eyes and see God all around us in creation and in our lives. He asks us to wake up from our slumber and to activate our faith. To put on the armor of light; not only this, but to put on the Lord Jesus Christ. Now is the time to be fully alive. Come, revel with me in the glorious mystery that is the beauty of creation, light of the world, the hope of God with us. Romans 13:11-14 (NRSV) By Regina Shands Stoltzfus, assistant professor of peace, justice and conflict studies at Goshen College Reprinted from Advent Devotionals I remember singing this Psalm of David, clothed in a blue robe, swaying to the beat with the rest of the choir as we entered the sanctuary on Sunday mornings. I am grateful for the rich diversity of musical styles I was able to experience growing up in my home church. The diversity of styles came about in part because we were diverse in other ways – racially and economically were probably the most evident. We also had people who lived right in the city, and people from the suburbs and surrounding rural areas. With people from so many backgrounds, it would be strange if we didn’t have a diversity of worship music. The youth choir began when I was a teenager, and we sang gospel music. Although representative of our church’s African American membership, the choir was by no means limited to that group. We loved singing gospel music together so much that, as young (and then older) adults we stayed in the choir. The name shifted from “youth” to “gospel” choir, and eventually became (and still is) an intergenerational group. That home church with the diversity of people and music is where I came to know and love God. Through worship, and especially through singing, I learned the stories of God’s people, God’s love and God’s call to be peacemakers. Here I learned to sing in the company of others, “I was glad when they said to me, let us go into the house of the Lord!” Psalm 122 (NRSV) By Jim Brenneman, president of Goshen College Reprinted from Advent Devotionals Teachers are visionaries. At their best, teachers inspire their students to dream of and work to create a better world. There is a famous scene in the movie “Dead Poets Society” (1989) when the odd out-of-bounds teacher Mr. Keating, played by Robin Williams, has all the boys stand on their chairs to get a different perspective on the world. In the process, he turns teenage boys into lovers of poetry, dreamers of a new way of living as a “band of brothers” in a community of passionate learners. I am struck by how Isaiah’s Advent vision describes God as a teacher standing on Mt. Zion. And like the Master Teacher that God is, God’s lecture is magnetic. The nations stream to class, like a river flowing upward against gravity to the highest of mountains. It’s as if God has all the nations stand on their chairs to imagine a different possible future. The instruction, the Word of the Lord, goes forth with such sway that the nation-students do the unimaginable: they beat their instruments of war into farming implements, no longer willing to go to war against one another. They leave their mountain-classroom singing what would become the great African American spiritual inspired by this Advent vision, “Gonna lay down my sword and shield, down by the riverside… I ain’t gonna study war no more!” In this war-weary world, let us stand on chairs, if we must, to catch a glimpse of Isaiah’s vision of nations who one day willingly turn their war colleges into colleges of peace; nations who one day choose to study war no more. Now that would be worthy of an Advent anthem, “Gloria en excelsis, Deo!” Isaiah 2:1-5 (NRSV) By Bob Yoder, campus pastor at Goshen Gollege Reprinted from Advent Devotionals The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem. DEVOTIONAL:
“O the mystery of God’s dwelling” expresses a sense of awe and wonder. Will we hold these words as a reverential expression for God’s act of incarnation? Will we mutter them with a sense of frustration and confusion trying to fully make sense of God entering the human world? The Advent Scriptures present us with a plethora of images of judgment, pain, suffering, idolatry and oppression in both the natural and the human worlds, as well as the parallel images of restoration, redemption, salvation, wholeness and peace. When you consider the literal and metaphorical paths you have walked in life, what comes to mind? I go back to the woods of my childhood farm. There were different paths traversed for various reasons. Some were made by our tractor, others by human feet, and still others by deer that regularly bounded through. Most of the paths were contained within our property boundaries that I knew well. As long as I stayed on them I was sure to circle back to a place of familiarity. But other paths went beyond our property to unknown destinations. What was on the other side? Where would it take me? Were those lands more of the same or different? Should I go there? What will happen if I do? I have had both joyful surprises and unexpected annoyances on the paths of life. But sometimes the paths I trekked delivered tragic realities for which I wondered if there could have been another way, or why this happened. Like the Psalmist, I questioned and exclaimed, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest,” (Psalm 22). PRAYER: O God, wander with me in the paths of life. Help me recognize your presence when mystery is my close companion. |
Chad Hill
Pastor, Allen-Lee CategoriesArchives
April 2015
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