By Pastor Tracey Leslie
Psalm 80 & John 1:1-5, 14-18

The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.  John 1:5

Christmas Eve has arrived and what a strange holiday season this has been.  As I write this devotional in mid-November, I am still uncertain what Christmas Eve worship will look like:  in-person, online, small group worship spread across the day and into the evening?  Much is uncertain in our lives and in our world right now.  Yet, we can affirm with confidence that the coming of the Christ Child has delivered us from death and darkness and brought us into the presence of the one who is the Light of the World. ​

This Christmas Eve reflection focuses on the theme of deliverance.  There is much we would like to be delivered from this year, right?  Particularly, I imagine, we long to be delivered from our divisive, partisan politics and from this dreadful COVID virus.

As Christians we believe that the coming of Jesus, God’s presence in our midst (the Word made flesh), has resulted in our salvation and our deliverance from the darkness of sin and death.  God’s presence in our midst is what we celebrate this season; for in the birth of Jesus, God’s glory clothed itself in flesh and came to live among us.  Throughout scripture, God’s glory in the midst of his people brought about their deliverance and salvation.  When the Hebrew people were given manna to sustain them in the wilderness, Moses interprets that daily bread in this way:  “in the morning you shall see the glory of the Lord…” (Exod. 16:7).  The manna that lay on the ground like morning dew delivered them from death by starvation.  Likewise, Jesus comes among us to reveal God’s glory and, in doing so, he delivers us from death.  That is why in John’s gospel, even Jesus’ death is said to be his glorification (John 12:27ff). 

Death on a cross, a brutal instrument of torture reserved for the worst of offenders, hardly seems a fitting way to “glorify” someone, does it?  By worldly standards, glorification should mean having a holiday or a monument named after you, holding a ticker-tape parade in your honor, or, at the very least, a big, fat Christmas bonus and a plaque acknowledging your value to the company or corporation.  That’s honor; that’s glorification… by the world’s standards at least.  But Jesus’ “glorification” wasn’t for his benefit; it was for our benefit, for our deliverance from death to life; from darkness into the light; from insecurities and fears to becoming confident children of God.  Glory to the Son of God who has delivered us, his people!  Amen.

Every Christmas season, my family would bundle up, load into the rusty old Suburban, and head to the tree farm. We would tromp around in the snow for an hour or so, pick the perfect conifer, then ‘help’ as my dad sawed it down. While my parents handled the netting and purchase of the tree, my sister and I would wander over to the hobby farm on the property and amuse ourselves with the animals in the petting area. Inevitably, my older sister would become cornered and terrorized by a herd of hungry goats. Our mom would rescue her and buy both of us a cup of hot cider or cocoa, before we loaded up in the rusty old Suburban again, heading home with our Christmas tree.

If you’ve never used a live tree before, setting it up is an exercise in patience that I often lacked as a child. Once home with our prize, the tree would be set up in the foyer, where it had to sit for a full day before we could even think of decorating it. A whole. Entire. Day. Waiting was such torture for me! Eventually, my mom would pull out the lights and the ornaments. We would play Christmas movies while stringing the lights. Mom would put on John Denver as we unboxed individually wrapped ornaments and hung them from the branches.

As evening fell, it was time for the grand finale - placing the angel on top of the tree. It was a homemade little country angel, with yellow yarn curls and a calico print robe. Every year, my dad would pick up my sister or me, place us on his strong shoulders, and pass up the little angel for us to place on the top of the tree. As we grew, he would just lift us up to the top of the tree. And as still we grew, he eventually pulled out the step ladder and helped us safely climb to the top on our own. 

This transition was so gradual and so entrenched in our holiday traditions that I never realized, until many years later, that at some point, my dad stopped picking me up. In retrospect, I have so many happy memories around this tradition. I don’t regret or wish that he could pick me up again, because he taught us how to climb that tree ourselves. 

Time goes on. My sister and I have our own families now. We use artificial trees, and neither of us particularly enjoys John Denver… but I can’t wait to lift my daughter onto my shoulders and show her how to place our own angel on the top of the Christmas tree. 

By Morris DuBose

​At this exact moment, I feel lost. The full weight of my fragility is upon me more often than not these days. This year has been long. And despite the glimmers of Hope that remain, I find myself more tired than I've been in my life. Our holidays this year are unlikely to resemble any holiday we've experienced in our lifetime. For some of us the ideological gulfs between us and our friends and family will make this a different Christmas season. For others the reality of enduring a disaster level pandemic will reshape our Advent.

If you read the passage from 2 Samuel 7:1-11 it ends strangely with the words of God through the prophet Nathan, “… I will build you a house” (italics mine). This is because David wanted to build a temple (house) for God so the presence of God could “live” there, so to speak. God says that there is no need of a house, but that God will build David a “house.” Now there is a play on the word “house” here. David is using the word as a dwelling place. However, God changes it up and uses the other meaning of the word, a family unit or lineage.  God does not need a house but God does want to establish David’s line and David’s people, the Kingdom of Israel, forever.

Well soon after in Israel’s history, things go awry and the kingdom of Israel is all but destroyed! Think of it, a whole nation devastated! I don’t suppose we need to use a lot of imagination for that right now. One generation after David, the Kingdom split into North and South. The North was completely destroyed by Assyria. The South was later held captive by Babylon, only to rebuild and then be annexed by the Greeks, then fight off the Greeks only to dissolve into civil war again! (Hmm, think of it. A nation divided.) Finally, they are annexed by the Romans. Whew! That is a lot for a people to go through! Needless to say, the Jewish people are desperately waiting for the promise to David to be fulfilled. The promise of a lineage and nation that will never be destroyed.

Between David and when they fell under the power of Rome, the Jewish people began to expect a Messiah (it means King) who would deliver them, by military might, from the power of the Romans and establish a Jewish nation that would last forever. Sort of like the promise to David.

Now, we are all caught up. That leads us right up to the time Jesus arrives on the scene. Well almost. We need to talk about Mary first. There are two Advent passages this week from Luke that talk about Mary. The first is when the angel Gabriel announces Jesus’ birth to her (Luke 1:26-38) and the second is a song she sings in response to this blessed event (Luke 1:47-55).

When we look at the first one (Luke 1:26-38) we learn a few important things. First, Mary was perfectly submissive to God’s will. This was not a submission born of weakness but of strength. She had the courage to say “yes” to God. She says, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word” (v. 38). Paul talks about “the obedience of faith” (Rom 16:26) and Mary exemplifies it!

The next is that Mary will give birth to Jesus and he will have quite the résumé. It will include words like “great,” “son of  the Most High,” and last but not least, “throne of his father (ancestor) David” (v. 32). Yes, the very David to whom God promised a house (household), a Kingdom that will last forever. The next verse goes on to say that Jesus will “rule over the house of Jacob” (a different name for Israel) forever! Just in case you didn’t catch it the first time, it says it again: “of his kingdom there shall be no end!” (The punctuation and italics I added.) Look! There is that word “house” again. It goes right along with the word “kingdom.” “Forever” and “no end” also pair with one another quite nicely. Jesus fulfills the promise that goes all the way back to the time of David! Wow! The long wait finally comes to an end.

This is so exciting that Mary sings a song. It is a great read, so I encourage you to read it in Luke 1:47-55. I will hit the highlights here: God is a God who shows mercy; God is a God who shows strength but not for strength’s sake, but to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves; and finally, God is a God who gives those who are in need what they need. Oh, also, God is a God who does not fear, cater, or give in to the “proud,” the “mighty,” or the “rich.” At the end of the song, Mary connects all that God is doing through Jesus with a history much earlier than David. She connects it all the way back to Abraham, the grandfather of Jacob (Israel). What God is doing through Jesus goes all the way back to God’s cosmic purpose starting with Abraham! Perhaps one could argue that Mary was the first tiger mommy (but I don’t think she put all that much pressure on the boy Jesus, even though he ran off that one time to work at the temple, see Luke 2:41-52).

So, there we have it. Jesus has arrived on the scene, finally! The wait is over and he proceeds promptly to fix everything in short order. Right!? … uhh right? What do you mean, no!?

Jesus doesn’t become a King at all. He hangs out with peasants, he becomes a teacher and gets paid peanuts. (There is scholarly debate about whether peanuts are kosher by the way, true story.) I personally believe that teachers can make a bigger difference in the world than kings or politicians. However, this is not what the Jewish people were waiting for. No, they wanted a warrior king. What a disappointment.

This long awaited king, solution to all the world’s problems, one to usher in a new age, is crucified like a common criminal. This would be a very depressing advent meditation if that were the end of the story. But, we know the end of the story! We say it every communion: “Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again!”

So let’s recap: God promises David a kingdom that will never end. Israel has its ups and downs (mostly downs) all through that first millennium B.C.E. and finally a promised Savior, a King in the line of David is born to a lowly peasant girl.  That Savior/King lives a life of humility, is killed for his radical ideas about peace and love and not grasping for power (people in power never like to hear that last one), and is finally crucified. But remember: 

Easter, the resurrection will come. We could not have Easter without the crucifixion; we could not have the crucifixion without our Savior coming in the first place. That is what Advent is about.

Just like Mary, God has brought us who trust in Jesus into the long cosmic plan of redemption! It is so hard to look around and see the world as it is. We might sympathize with the Israelites and their plights. Two civil wars; stark disparity between the haves and have not’s; and yes even plagues. Some of us may look around and see our polarized nation in a metaphorical civil war, while some are still feeling the effects of the first. Our pandemic has separated us from loved ones around the table this thanksgiving and has left empty seats never to be filled again. We, like the Israelites, wonder, what can be done? Where is our Savior? How long must we wait.

Our Savior comes. Our Savior comes through the life of a young virgin who utters in perfect submission, “let it be with me according to your word.” Can we say the same? Dare we pray Mary’s prayer? Even now, can we trust our God in perfect submission like Mary? Can we rejoice, like Mary, that God has brought us to this place and connected us to that great cosmic mystery of faith? Dare we believe it?

In Advent Jesus comes. The cosmic drama begins. Let us, like Mary, resolve to receive God’s difficult call with the words “let it be with me according to your word.” 

My Transformation
A number of years ago in the season of Thanksgiving and Christmas my world was falling apart.  I was going through a divorce, one that I did not anticipate nor did I ever expect would happen to me.  I lost not only my husband, most of my retirement assets, and friends.  Fortunately I had an occupation in high demand so I could work multiple jobs.  I went through all the stages of grief including being angry with God for a time.

In spite of my world being turned upside down, I had many things for which I was very thankful.  My mother was always there for me.  My health was excellent and I had a supportive family.  But most importantly I had a relationship with God, who never abandoned me throughout my struggling years.

During this particular year I was working PRN in a number of nursing homes locally and in surrounding counties.  Soon I found that I felt the most joy when I was working!  And I began to see the face of Jesus in many of the elderly patient's faces.  This is when my faith in God was strengthened and I knew that God would never leave me.

Advent Season 2020
Now we are going into another Advent Season.  How can we get through this without being with family and our traditional church services and other Christmas activities?  How can we provide HOPE for home bound and others who have been sequestered for most of the year?

We can serve up some HOPE packaged in LOVE by picking up the phone and calling people whom we know are alone. We can take soup or cookies to neighbors.  We can send a card or note with a prayer or Bible verse.  We might pick up groceries or drive them to doctor appointments.  There are many ways we can spread love and hope to our neighbors.  And with each act of kindness, we will give hope to others and we will receive even more than we give.

With many blessings of hope and love to all this Advent Season.
 
Bible verses full of HOPE

• Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.  Hebrews 10:23
• May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.  Romans 15:13
• Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.  Proverbs 3:5
• For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not parish but have eternal life.   John 3:16   

Dad’s funeral was on Christmas Eve day. As the funeral procession proceeded down busy Woodward Avenue in Detroit on a bitterly cold day, I looked out the car window at all of the people at bus stops and bustling about. I saw a lot of shocked, horrified faces when people along the streets noticed the hearse and procession. Were they feeling sorry for us? Or, were they upset that we interrupted their Christmas joy? Maybe they were annoyed because the funeral procession was slowing down the bus schedule or their timeline for Christmas errands.

Whatever the reason for their dismay, their facial expressions added to my grief. Burying my dad was not what our family ever expected to do on Christmas Eve.

The hope from this story comes from the people at the church we attended near home. My family never missed going to church, even when we were grieving a few days after dad died. During the funeral visitation, a family came from church to support us, “We don’t know you but we saw how sad you were at church and we wanted to come and tell you we care.” We were in awe - a family taking time to visit people they don’t know at a funeral home right before Christmas! Another family from church stopped by our house on Christmas day with an appetizer shaped like a Christmas tree! They were making the dish for a family gathering but thought we would need something special, so they made a second one for us. I have since made that same appetizer for many Christmas gatherings and people always seem to get joy from having a Christmas tree made out of fresh vegetables on the table! It also reminds me of the kindness people brought to our little family when we needed it so badly.

Over the years, I have appreciated how much those people gave our family hope at Christmas. They saw us
grieving and they did some simple things that I continue to remember. Although times have changed, people need our comfort more than ever. We never know when someone will cross our path who needs some care. I pray that I am not too distracted or too busy at Christmas - I don’t want to miss an opportunity to be able to give hope to someone in need! 

As I write this devotional, I am in semi-isolation recovering from COVID. Our local news reported today the highest positive number of COVID cases in our area so far in the pandemic, by a wide margin. Our hospitals are full. Our schools are moving on-line, and many of you reading have been ill or care about folks who have been afflicted. We are terribly concerned about what’s going to happen next. We look at the news each day with trepidation, fearing what we’re going to discover when we read the headlines.

Our Scripture for the third Sunday in Advent is a welcome contrast to our contemporary newsfeed. It is full of not just good, but amazing news. Couldn’t we all use some good news like this right about now? The prophet in Isaiah speaks to a people desperate for good news. God is going to look on them with favor! The prophet speaks hope to the poor and brokenhearted, to those who are stifled and grieving, to those who find themselves perpetually in the dark. God’s people are clearly hurting, but the headline is that they will be renewed and restored; this is God’s promise. In the Psalms, we hear the laughter and joy of the people; those who had been weeping are now singing songs of joy. Their tears became the salt that generated a new song, a new tune marked by joy and hope that spills from their lips. God’s people are reminded of the pattern: There will be suffering, and God will make a way. The people will be restored. This is not an isolated fact of human existence. The prophet and the psalmist reveal that God’s deliverance is an ongoing act.

​In his letter to the church in Thessalonica, Paul commends and encourages the people in their hopefulness and endurance.  Paul tells them to remain cheerful, to pray continually, and to be grateful to God no matter what happens. Wherever goodness and grace can be found, go for more of that, Paul instructs.  Although they faced challenges, the people in Thessalonica had a hopeful disposition, and it made all the difference. Their steadfast hope in Christ and their gratitude for all that God had done for them shaped not only their understanding of the future but their experience of the present. They lived with an expectation and a joy that gave purpose to their day-to-day lives. There was a sense of wonder and awe about what God was going to do next.

In the book of John, God’s next act is the ultimate and final work of salvation. God becomes human – the life-light comes to be with us. However, a lot of the people don’t recognize the light. John the Baptist is sent by God to point the way to the life-light. John is called to show folks where to look, to show them whom to believe in. Forgiveness and mercy, joy and comfort, healing and resurrection: Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life, and the darkness can never extinguish this.

In our trying times, remembering God’s goodness and his promises, looking for joy in each day, and thanking God for what we have are essential spiritual practices. Just like John the Baptist, we are called to witness to the light, even if it is just a tiny little beam in the dark. For me, that light is the friends who have brought food, lent us a bed, and checked in on and prayed for us daily as we have recovered from COVID. That light is the front-line workers – our healthcare providers and teachers – who have served our family in sacrificial ways. That light is the dear feline companions who have cuddled with me at night on the chilly, blow-up borrowed bed. That light is the voice of a Trinity angel who told me a few nights ago, in the midst of her own pain, “Suzanne, I don’t know what I would do without Jesus.” The love and gratitude in her voice melted my heart. That light is the memory of my father-in-law, who lived life and loved God and others with such a down-to-earth, gentle, and joyful spirit. And most important, that light is God’s voice in the deepest fiber of my being, whispering that I am loved and that all will be well.

As you prepare for Christmas during this Advent-like-none-other, where do you see the light shimmering in the darkness? May God give you eyes to see that light, and an opportunity to share the joy of that light with others.

My 23rd Christmas was an event that dramatically confirmed the new arc of my life.  It is the first Christmas celebration that I can remember with any clarity.  I had traveled to California for the first in person contact with my wife-to-be since we had become engaged. I was in the process of finishing work on a Master's degree in engineering and managed to land several job interview trips that just happened to coincide with Christmas break from school and just happened to be in California, the technical mecca of the world in 1960.
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My parents had divorced when I was six and after shuffling from school to school and place to place for almost two years my Mother finally had the good sense to deposit me with her parents. I lived with them until I was 16. My Grandparents had a "mixed" marriage. Grandma was a German Catholic and Grandpa was an Irish Protestant. Neither of their families was happy with their union. I guess part of the marriage contract was that religion was not up for discussion. In any event even after I started attending a local UMC church just on my own when I was 12, Christmas was just never a big deal. Not as a religious event, nor a secular event. No big family gatherings or even a special dinner.  No Christmas cards in the mail and mostly by economic necessity no gift exchanges that I can recall.

Fast forward seven years (my 23rd Christmas) and here I was celebrating with a woman for whom Christmas WAS a big deal. Both religious and secular. Christmas lights everywhere. All the friends and family she introduced me to had Christmas trees and decorated homes and plans for midnight church services. I was overwhelmed and in awe.  And of course we were busy making plans for how our lives might unfold. Some happened, some didn't. But the emotional highs of those days caused the memories to be deeply imbedded. We are about to celebrate our 60th Christmas together even though my frequent disparagement of the commercial aspects of Christmas celebrations has earned me the title of Scrooge.

By Isabel Danz

​I love sending and receiving cards. If you have ever sent me one, I have it saved in a special box. They are in the same box that I used at my wedding to collect cards.  It may sound odd or even hoarder like behavior, but cards bring me joy! I mention this because I take Christmas card shopping very seriously! Three years ago, I had an unusually hard time finding just the right card. I wanted a card that would be a gift to my Christian and non-Christian friends. The message was important to me, and after looking in a few stores and reading more cards than I wanted to, they all started blending together.  I was at my last store, and I left empty-handed.