1 Samuel 2:1-8

Hannah prayed and said,

“My heart exults in the Lord;
    my strength is exalted in my God.
My mouth derides my enemies,
    because I rejoice in my victory.

“There is no Holy One like the Lord,
    no one besides you;
    there is no Rock like our God.
Talk no more so very proudly,
    let not arrogance come from your mouth;
for the Lord is a God of knowledge,
    and by him actions are weighed.
The bows of the mighty are broken,
    but the feeble gird on strength.
Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
    but those who were hungry are fat with spoil.
The barren has borne seven,
    but she who has many children is forlorn.
The Lord kills and brings to life;
    he brings down to Sheol and raises up.
The Lord makes poor and makes rich;
    he brings low, he also exalts.
He raises up the poor from the dust;
    he lifts the needy from the ash heap,
to make them sit with princes
    and inherit a seat of honor.
For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s,
    and on them he has set the world.

Long before Mary praised God for looking with favor on the lowliness of servants, and for lifting up the lowly, Hannah - another mother of strange circumstance - exalted God similarly.

Hannah was the mother of the prophet Samuel, and unlike Mary - a teen who had no expectations of being a mother - Hannah had been hoping and praying for motherhood for years.

One woman young and unmarried. Another older and barren despite being married.

Both, however, finding the surprise pregnancy something worth the wait.

And something that spoke to God's topsy turvy work in the world.

No one expects the single teen to have a child.

Or the barren woman who has been married for years.

Just as we don't expect the powerless or weak to gird on strength.

Or the powerful to fall and fail.

Like Mary, Hannah reminds us to expect the unexpected where God is concerned.

And to sing praises for that.

To be hopeful that our expectations are not always the same as God's.

That God's way will exceed everything we can hope for.

Lord, we wait for you to come in ways that will always surprised us and exceed every expectation we can have. Thank you! Amen

Matthew 24:23-24

Then if anyone says to you, ‘Look! Here is the Messiah!’ or ‘There he is!’—do not believe it. For false messiahs and false prophets will appear and produce great signs and omens, to lead astray, if possible, even the elect.

It's the season of Advent - the time when we wait for that baby to be born: the baby who will change everything.

And yet in Advent, we get frequent lessons about waiting for the Messiah - a baby no longer - to come again. And those lessons often feel a bit frightening and mysterious and ominous.

And yet also somehow relevant.

As we wait for the baby - the Incarnate God in our midst - we also pause to note all the false gods we wait for and watch for. Those saviors that Jesus warns us of today.

We remember our tendency to look in the wrong places for leadership and guidance.

We remember how we seek power over and over again as the way we shall save ourselves.

Meanwhile, soon we will see that we don't save ourselves.

That power isn't the way.

That our leaders are not saviors.

And that the real savior, our true leader, will come not in might and strength and power.

Not in the White House or the Kremlin or the grandest castle...

...but in fragility and vulnerability...

...amidst cow dung and straw in a place for animals rather than people.

So in Advent we wait. For the babe in a manger.

And also for the life Christ brings to keep coming again and again from this time through end times.

Savior of the world, show us true power. Teach us humility. Give us patience. And help us to be love to a world that needs it even as it waits for you. Amen.

1 Thessalonians 4:9-10

Now concerning love of the brothers and sisters, you do not need to have anyone write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another; and indeed you do love all the brothers and sisters throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, beloved, to do so more and more...

My favorite image of how love works is a visual one. It's the image of a flame. 

Light a candle. Now take that candle and light another candle. See the light spread. Each time you take that flame and light another candle, the light does not diminish. You can't take away from it. You can only make it bigger.

That is how love works.

Love more and more, Paul says.

Because that's what love is meant for. It is meant to be expansive.

Wide.

Broad.

Huge.

It starts small. But if you try to keep it small, you eventually will extinguish it.

There is a prayer that has been attributed to Mother Teresa, that she herself paraphrased from American writer and educator, Dr. Kent Keith. Dr. Keith called this prayer "The Paradoxical Commandments" - and like the original commandments there are ten.

The first one is this: "People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered. Love them anyway."

Love more and more.

Start with those near you - especially the difficult ones - and keep expanding, growing, and widening just like that flame.

And imagine how a love not snuffed out, but instead allowed to spread like wildfire, can change the world.

Let your love spread like fire, Lord, starting in my heart and ever moving outward. Amen.

Isaiah 30:20

Though the Lord may give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself any more, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. 

Nothing teaches more than pain.

Than suffering.

Than having to rely on hope.

Most of us wish that weren't so, but know from experience that it is.

For the Israelites, it often felt as if God was absent. That the suffering was too much. That God was hiding out. Yet God was always present. Living through the suffering with them.

Where is God when we suffer? Is there any question in faith that is asked more than that one? If so, I'm not sure what it is. And sometimes in the moment of suffering maybe it doesn't occur to us that where God is is with us. Or if it does, maybe it isn't initially helpful.

But later...

Maybe...just maybe, God's presence beside us in our suffering may be the thing that teaches us. 

Gives us hope.

Helps us see the promise in a new day.

God of hope, the road through suffering is hard. But the only way through is through, not around. Walk with me on that path and catch me when I stumble along the way. Amen

Psalm 72:18-19

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
    who alone does wondrous things.
Blessed be his glorious name forever;
    may his glory fill the whole earth.
Amen and Amen.

Seems like a simple verse for the day. A prayer if you will.

We are used to saying things like "God has blessed me" or "I am blessed."

But here, we are telling of God's own blessedness.

We are blessing God.

How does that make you see blessing as an act?

Or as an adjective.

What does naming God as blessed do to you? 

What would your day be like if you began it by blessing God?

How would we see our own blessedness in calling out God's?

Sometimes you may not know what to pray. How to start. Sometimes you may find yourself in a meeting or situation where someone asks you to pray and you feel stuck.

If so, here's perhaps a place to begin. 

Blessed be God and may God's glory fill the whole earth. Amen and Amen.

John 1:19-28

This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, “I am not the Messiah.” And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” He answered, “No.” Then they said to him, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” He said,

“I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness,
‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’”

as the prophet Isaiah said.

Now they had been sent from the Pharisees. They asked him, “Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?” John answered them, “I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” This took place in Bethany across the Jordan where John was baptizing.

I wouldn't be Advent without hearing from John the Baptist.

It's a story we hear every year. It's one that has become cemented with Advent and with the idea of preparation for Christmas.

Each time I read the story of John - regardless of the gospel - I try to see if there is something new I can find. Something that I didn't know before.

And that seems oddly ironic then that this time I zeroed in on John's words about Jesus as "the one whom you do not know."

It makes me wonder: "Do we still not fully know Jesus?"

Each year John the Baptist introduces us to this Jesus who wasn't known to the Priests or Levites. And in each year when he does this, he is also introducing him to us again.

It isn't a story that can be told once.

It's a story we tell again and again so that we can know Jesus more fully.

Because while we know the Christmas story, and love to tell the Christmas story, we sometimes forget who the center of the story is.

We forget that Jesus came not simply to tell about him.

Or even simply to believe in him.

But so that we might know him.

And fully knowing someone takes time. 

And repetition.

And faith.

So listen to John this year. Listen again and let him introduce you to the one who we don't yet know.

So that we might begin to fully know him.

Lord, teach me your story and make it a part of me so that I may fully know you. Amen

Matthew 24:1-5

As Jesus came out of the temple and was going away, his disciples came to point out to him the buildings of the temple. Then he asked them, “You see all these, do you not? Truly I tell you, not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”

When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately, saying, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” Jesus answered them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am the Messiah!’ and they will lead many astray."

It isn't always super helpful to read the Apocalyptic texts in scripture. It especially often sounds disconcerting hearing end times talk coming out of Jesus' mouth.

One thing that is helpful for me to remember about anything related to "apocalypse" talk is that we all have little apocalypses all throughout our lives. End times come not always just at the final end, but at ends of periods or moments in our lives.

As we transition from one stage of life to the next, it can often feel apocalyptic and unsettling. Disorienting. Scary.

Difficult sometimes to imagine resettling or reorienting ourselves.

And yet that is what we are called to do.

It is important to remember that in those disorienting moments we are often most vulnerable to "false prophets" or "false messiahs:" those in our lives who we might go to for guidance, but who may not actually have our best interests at heart.

And that is when we would do well to ask ourselves how our true messiah would guide us.

How would the crucified Christ move us through unsettling times in our lives to a new creation? How can disorienting, apocalyptic times challenge us to grow outside of ourselves?

We need not get overly caught up in Apocalyptic literature in seeing it as relating simply to the end of the world.

It might instead guide us in whatever apocalypse is happening right now in your life. In this moment.

Who is a true prophet you can turn to right now if that is where you find yourself?

Lord of all time, help me discern true prophets in my life to guide me through unsettling times. Amen.