A FEW YEARS ago, I set out to knit a baby blanket as an Advent prayer practice. Knitting is incredibly meditative and allows me to pray with focus and clarity. Knitting a baby blanket seems appropriate as the church awaits the arrival of the “newborn king.” I wish I could say I finished the blanket in time for Christmas. I did not. However, even that seems appropriate, as so much remains unresolved for Jesus’ community at his birth. Their political occupation continued, and even Jesus’ birth story reflects the impositions placed upon his family by the Roman Empire. God’s inbreaking happens under serious duress — but it happens nonetheless.
My favorite lines from the poem “Christmas is Waiting to be Born” by Howard Thurman are: “Where fear companions each day’s life, / And Perfect Love seems long delayed. / CHRISTMAS IS WAITING TO BE BORN: / In you, in me, in all [hu]mankind.”
Thurman reminds us that God was born into our sorrow and among those who are brokenhearted and struggling. That truth is so important to hold on to as we process years of our own collective trauma. No matter how unresolved things are, Christmas is born in us, too! In December we continue our journey through Advent and arrive at Christmas. We might not have received what we’re waiting for by that time, and very little may make sense. Yet, because of who God is, we open our hearts to the improbable, trusting that we won’t be put to shame.
December 4
God’s Positioning System
Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12
THE GREEK WORD for repentance, metanoia, is likened to making a U-turn when you realize you’re traveling in the wrong direction. For this reason, I’ve come to think of John the Baptist as a GPS of sorts. He certainly gives directions for the crowds to whom he is ministering. But a key difference between John and a GPS is that, while the job of a GPS is to show the way, John’s job was to prepare the way. It’s a subtle but important difference because it is God who is traveling, not us.
John preaches to a community who’s been waiting for the promised “shoot ... from the stump of Jesse” (Isaiah 11:1), one who would restore righteousness and wholeness (shalom) to God’s people. But when the “shoot” arrives, would that Promised One be hindered by the invasive vines of human iniquity? John calls the crowds to prepare themselves through practical guidance: Share what you have with others. Stop cheating people out of money. Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Recalculate your trajectory!
Before German pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer was martyred by the Nazi regime, he wrote, “The coming of God is truly not only a joyous message, but is, first, frightful news for anyone who has a conscience ... God comes in the midst of evil, in the midst of death, and judges the evil in us and in the world.” For Bonhoeffer, the One who is coming will inevitably see everything that is wrong with us and might have every right to be put off by it. Instead, that judgment sees us honestly; it purifies and sanctifies us. In this second week of Advent, we are poised to receive what God is doing. Our metanoia may need to begin by clearing the brush that makes full reception difficult.
December 11
Reclaiming Our Joy
Isaiah 35:1-10; Luke 1:46b-55; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11
FOR MANY, THE third Sunday of Advent is “Gaudete (Rejoicing) Sunday,” when we recall and celebrate the Magnificat, Mary’s prophetic rejoicing at what God was apparently doing in the coming of the Messiah. “And Mary said: My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (Luke 1:46-47)! It is never lost on me that Mary could sing her song even while the upheaval she prophesied was still to come. It’s not easy to hold a vision that bears no resemblance to your lived reality.
Catching that vision got difficult even for John when his followers asked Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” (Matthew 11:3). Despite all they had seen and heard, they despaired, wondering if Jesus was the real deal. Despair works because it gaslights us. If “despair messaging” can convince us to question what we see with our own eyes, then we begin to feel that all the things we do in response — the marching, organizing, voting, praying, healing — are for nothing. This may cause us to abandon our work to help restore the wholeness of the world.
Joy acts as an antidote to despair. Joy is not the same thing as happiness. Happiness may be circumstantial. Joy needs no particular circumstances and no one’s permission to exist. It doesn’t need to be accommodated. It can be present in all times and in all circumstances. Joy helps us stay when we are surrounded by that which might drag us into despair. It sustains us in times such as today when we have far more questions than answers. Claiming (and reclaiming) joy is an act of holy resistance. In the midst of despair, the Spirit helps us retain our joy.
December 18
Signifying Peace
Isaiah 7:10-16; Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19; Romans 1:1-7; Matthew 1:18-25
IN THE PROPHECY from Isaiah 7, God tells King Ahaz to ask for a sign from God. Ahaz is king of Jerusalem in Judah (the southern kingdom). King Pekah of Israel (the northern kingdom) has allied with neighboring Aram (a non-Israelite kingdom) to attack Jerusalem because Ahaz refused to join forces with King Pekah to attack Assyria. Ahaz and all of Jerusalem are shaken, but the Lord reassures Ahaz that this plot against Jerusalem will not prevail. Ahaz, however, is not convinced. Ask for a sign, says the Lord, so that the promise can be signified. Ahaz refuses, but a sign is given anyway: “Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14). This indicates that the people will go on and whatever is threatening them will not prevail. God was indeed with them (Immanuel means “God with us”) and the people would have a future. That still did not satisfy Ahaz. Even though God gave him a way out of his dilemma, Ahaz chose to align with Assyria for military protection, despite God’s promise of divine protection.
Between the Isaiah and Matthew texts, we have two different responses to God’s ridiculous promises: unbelief and belief. I marvel at Joseph’s trust in God’s ridiculous promise in Matthew’s gospel, but I can’t say I blame Ahaz. We have all been shaken by our circumstances before (and perhaps we still are). When we’re afraid, we sometimes enter the wrong alliances — borrowing money we can’t repay, engaging in a toxic relationship so we won’t have to be alone, or voting people into office who only serve themselves. Fear can be instructive because it helps us count the costs of what we face. Putting fear in its proper place helps us enact our faith in ways that move us forward. We’ve all made questionable choices out of fear. It’s not always easy to believe God’s promises because they often seem ridiculous and fly in the face of conventional wisdom. But God’s promises are sure.
December 25
Making Us God’s Kin
Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-20
I WILL BE forever grateful to Ada María Isasi-Díaz for her articulation of God’s reign as “kin-dom.” For many, the language of kinship has expanded our understanding of what God wants for humanity. It provides an important framework for community and liberation. I also think the “kingdom” language of scripture isn’t quite finished with us. The messianic prophecies in the early chapters of Isaiah promise the people of Judah perpetuity through the birth of a new leader. Isaiah 9 specifically says this child will inherit the throne of his ancestor David. One may recall a time in the history of God’s people when God warned against installing a king (1 Samuel 8:10-22). That’s not without reason; kings can be problematic. Yet, Judah’s fortunes will be restored when this child assumes the throne.
Jesus’ birth was heralded as a continuation of God’s kingdom through the hereditary lineage of David, though there was already a civil authority in place. The choice to appropriate the language of “kingdom” was deliberate precisely because the language is problematic. Such appropriation to cast Jesus as messiah and king shifts the connotation. Jesus’ “kingdom” challenges the conventions of other kingdoms. Jesus’ reign rejects elitism and rebuffs the fancy vestments to indicate social status. Jesus’ kingdom rejects rote adherence to the Law rather than mandating it. The seat of power in this kingdom is not in a palace or complex, but in the heart of every person in Israel and the entire world! Even today, a kingdom built on righteousness and justice would be a new thing for many, as justice seems in short supply among earthly authorities. It therefore necessitates, as the psalmist says, “a new song” (Psalm 96:1). Christmas can be an opportunity for us to examine our investments in power structures and measure those investments against God’s intentions for a king who comes in the most inauspicious way. Share that as part of your Christmas greeting!
T. Denise Anderson is acting director of Racial Equity and Women's Intercultural Ministries at the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) and lives in Maryland.
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