Thank You

Yesterday's reading concluded the Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary Devotional Guide published for this year's Advent Season.  I once again want to thank the Seminary for permission to reprint and e-mail out these daily devotional readings.  I hope the Lord touched you throughout the season through these readings. 

I am considering putting together a similar blog for the Lenten Season.  If you found this blog helpful and would like a similar blog for Lent, please either e-mail me or leave a short comment on the blog.

Peace and Blessings to You from First Presbyterian Church, Texarkana, Arkansas

and Rev. John Arnold, The Practical Disciple.

John 1:1-14

When all is said and done, the news of Christmas Day fairly begs to be sung.  At Christmas, our best theological constructions, our best arguments for the incarnation, finally melt away; and they can hardly stand up unless we sing them!

So it is that John the gospel-writer wrote this hymn, really.  "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God...and the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory...full of grace and truth."  That's not just theology.  That's music.

How can we not sing at Christmas, or, for that matter, at any season of the year when, whatever your circumstances, you are in touch with some evidence of God's breathtaking initiative to come and dwell with us?  I'm remembering a Seminary trip that my family and I took to Zambia eighteen months ago.  We went with a faculty-led study group of students, and were guests of our sister seminary there.  One day, the Synod Moderator came to take us to a nearby Presbyterian Church for a visit (I thought is was just going to be a low-key tour of the building, a look at some of its mission programs).  When we pulled up in front, I was blown away by the sight that awaited us.  In the middle of a weekday, more than two hundred people, members of that church, were stretched out across the front of that church and waiting to welcome us!  When we got out of the car, they began singing, and they sang us down the center aisle of that church and up into the chancel, and for the next hour and a half it was vibrant, joyous singing.  The stout texts of stately European hymns from the missionary period had now been set to their own breathtaking African melodies, and I had never heard such harmonies.  These were people with nothing--except a song.  It was music that people just naturally make when, in large ways or small, they endeavor to respond to the Good News that God has given us.

And now, at Christmas, One long awaited is here to save us, and to be our companion as we seek to follow Him.  He is the Word-made-flesh that is dwelling among us, full of grace and truth.  He is the One, as Barbara Taylor has said, "who is made out of the same stuff we are and who is made out of the same stuff God is and who will not let either of us go."  He brings Good News which, by the grace of God and to the glory of God, we can forever applaud, and believe, and (maybe most importantly) sing.

All glory to you, great God, for the gift of your Son, whom you sent to save us.  With singing angels, we will praise your name, and tell the earth his story!  Amen. 

Theodore J. Wardlaw

Austin Seminary Ambassador

President

Luke 2:1-20

Luke 2:1-20 is replete with sights, sounds, smells, scenery, and sensations--a governor's decree, a long journey, pregnant Mary bumping along on a dusty donkey, no room in the inn, stunned shepherds, a heavenly host proclaiming Good News and peace, a crescendo of divine light and Word piercing the darkness, the Messiah has arrived!

Verse 19 haunts me: "But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart."  What, precisely, did Mary "ponder in her heart?"  Surely she wondered what to make of all this and what would one day become of Jesus.  She must have wondered:  "Why me?"

A baby brings both peace and  upheaval--it turns our world upside down.  Holding our new-born children, I was upside down with wonder, awe, joy, and trepidation.  You ponder what will become of your children.  Who will they become?  Where will life take them?  Mary could not envision the degree to which Jesus would turn the world upside down.

I often pondered why our Savior came as an infant--until I had children, that is--now I think I understand.  The greatest paradox of our Christian faith is this:  2000 years ago Holy God, Emmanuel, took on human flesh in the form of a baby to pierce the darkness and turn our world upside down.  And when we make room for Him in the inn of our hearts he does it again...and again.

O Lord, pierce our darkness with your light and turn our worlds upside down with prophetic peace.  Amen.

David Lee Jones

Director of Doctor of Ministry Program

Isaiah 9:2-7

We have a cottage in northwestern Lower Michigan, far from the nearest town and its streetlights.  The sun doesn't set in summer till ten o'clock, and when the night falls it's usually well-lit by the moon hanging over the lake or a sea of generous stars.  But on overcast nights, the unlit two-rut road that leads to our place is darker than dark.  When we walk to a neighboring cottage for an evening, we carry a flashlight for the midnight walk back.  But occasionally we've forgotten that flashlight or discovered its batteries gone when we flipped it on.  This, then, is what it is to "walk in darkness.  This, for a moment, is what it is to live in a "land of deep darkness."  It's utterly disorienting.  Perception of distance and sense of direction dissolve.  You feel your way slowly with tiny, cautious steps.  My wife and I always hold hands.  She quips that we do this so that if one of us stumbles, we'll both be sure to fall down.  Actually, it's vaguely frightening.  But then we round a twist in the road, and the porch light we left burning flickers through the trees.  It's still very dark, but now there's a point of reference, a destination, and you can see, just enough.  Suddenly we're oriented again.  We step faster, fearlessly.  A light has shined on us, and it's home. 

Tune our eyes to the Advent dim, O God, that we may see even the faintest glimmers of your light in the darkness around us.  May we step boldly toward you, our destination, our home, our light.  Fill us with wisdom, Wonderful Counselor. empower us, Mighty God. save us, Everlasting Father.  Grant us peace, Prince of Peace. Amen.

Michael L.  Lindvall

Austin Seminary Ambassador and Trustee

Senior Pastor, The Brick Presbyterian church in 

the cit of New York, New York

Luke 1:26-28

"The Lord is with you."  What comforting words in such a perplexing time.  I wonder if Mary knew what was about to come, just from these words of Gabriel. I wonder if she had any inclination that she was about to be given the most incredible news the world had ever heard.  No matter what she thought, felt, or wondered, Mary knew one thing for sure...the Lord was indeed with her.  Gabriel didn't say, "The Lord was with you in the past," or "The Lord will be with you in the future."  Gabriel told Mary that the Lord was with her.

This is the first hint we get as readers to the unexpected and extraordinary thing that is about to happen:  the incarnation of God.  The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob was preparing to enter the world as an infant, to be with us in the most intimate way possible.  These five little words, "The Lord is with you," are the most amazing words the world has ever heard.  Just as these words brought hope and comfort to Mary, these words continue to be our hope and our comfort.

As we come closer to the celebration of the birth of our Lord, let us be reminded of the beauty and wonder of the incarnation.  Let us stand in awe of the extraordinary love that has stand in awe of the extraordinary love that has been lavished upon us, and let us sincerely ponder what it means for the Lord to be with us.

Gracious and Loving God, thank  you for loving us so much that you came to be with us.  We ask that you would give us the courage, comfort, and strength to live a life that is worthy of our calling.  Let us be witnesses to the wonder and glory of your incarnation, living with the confidence that you are with us. Amen.

Melissa R. Koerner

Senior Student from Ft. Collins, Colorado

President of the Student Services

Titus 2:11-14

This rich passage places us in the powers of grace within which we wait with hope for God's glory.  We live within the interplay of grace and hope.  We respond to the enticements of hope, not by looking to the horizons of the future, but, by focusing on our mundane and grace-filled lives of the present.

The wonders of Jesus' death and the unspeakable and unknowable blessings of God's final kingdom all enable us to live our ordinary lives in righteous and holy ways.  Jesus "gave himself for us" so that we would be "zealous for good deeds."  We hope for God's final revelation by living "lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly."  The wonders of the heavens, the imponderable mysteries of God's glory, live in the simple deeds of our lives.

Thus, we turn this day to the wonders of this day.  We live the simple Christian (and human) virtues.  We pursue love and kindness and generosity.  We flee selfishness and violence and hate.  We give ourselves and our lives, as Jesus did, to others.  We live convinced that righteousness and love will be victorious.  We live convinced that the graces we enjoy in our own lives will one day bless the lives of everyone, even the world itself.  The confusions of tomorrow are held in God's hand, while the wonders of this day fall to us and our awkward deeds of love.  Drinking the beauty of this day, pursuing the righteousness and justice within it, is a good way to wait for God's glory.

God of today's grace and tomorrow's hope, we praise you for the beauty and opportunities of this good day.  Pour your grace upon us so that we may live righteous, loving, and godly lives, this very day.  Amen.

Lewis Donelson

Ruth A. Campbell Professor of New Testament

Psalm 96

The Psalmist speaks of singing and rejoicing, and Advent is a time when these activities seem to be happening all around us.  Christmas music is everywhere, playing in every store and on the radio.  Ads tell us we should be celebrating the season and spreading joy by buying things to give as presents.  Advent reminds us that we are singing to the Lord with praise and adoration because we have already received the most precious gift of all.

This season is captured most in my memories of Christmas Eve midnight services, when I have returned home to the church in which I grew up.  Families have gathered, and it is a time to renew old acquaintances.  We gather to sing to the Lord and rejoice and worship.  When the lights are turned off near the end of the service, I wait in the darkness in anticipation of the light I know is coming.  The first notes of "Silent Night" sound, and the first candle is lit.  When my own candle is lit, it does not do much other than to illuminate the page of my hymnal.  But as each person lights the candle held by the person next to them, the sanctuary is gradually filled with a warm flickering glow.  By the end of the song, each face is illuminated by the golden light of the candles.  Once again, the darkness has been chased away, and the light has returned.

God of Light, you are great and greatly to be praised.  Illumine our way and bring light to our darkness that we might reflect your light and your glory as we rejoice in remembering the birth of your son and await the coming of your kingdom.  Amen.

Traci Truly

Senior Student from Garland, Texas

Romans 16:25-27

One of the best parts of these last couple of days before Christmas is the anticipation: of the next person to show up, the next gift to be placed under the tree, or the next warm baked good to be pulled from the oven.  But what would life be like without anticipation?  We would live our lives with each new day filled with dangers and unexpected pitfalls.  We would find no joy in each new day and no hope that anything better is yet to come.  Unfortunately, I think we do live our lives that way sometimes; we lose sight of God's eternal plan and live each day with no joy or hope of Christ's reign.

In today's passage Paul summarizes God's redemptive plan in one final sentence in Romans and praises God for this eternal plan through Jesus Christ.  God's plan is no secret!  Jesus Christ is no secret!  We have been made a part of this plan and can sit in anticipation of its completion in Christ's return.  Christ has been made known in the prophets, Christ has come and walked among us, Christ died and rose for us, and new we actively wait for Christ to come again.  The anticipation makes me want to shake my Bible, like I do my Christmas gifts, looking for some clue as to what is to come.

Eternal and Wise God, you set your plan into action before the waters of creation and continue to build upon your plan in our time.  The anticipation of its completion is almost too much to bear, but we give thanks for the joy that comes with the anticipation and ask that you use our anxious energy for your coming kingdom.  We pray in the name of the coming Lord.  Amen.

Matthew L. Thompson

Senior Student from Plainview, Texas

Luke 1:46-55

Dietriech Bonhoeffer believed the Psalms are of particular value when we pray them, not because they express what we feel in our hearts, but because they often make us pray against our heart. This is an aspect of faith that we sometimes forget. I recall the shock on a church member's face who "complimented" me at the door one Sunday: "That sermon came straight from you heart." I answered, "I hope not, because if it did, and the prophet Ezekiel is right, then I 'm a false prophet." Exekiel, like Bonhoeffer, believed that the human heart is a confused organ of sentimentality and self-interest , and it needs the correction of the Word of God.

Mary's song, the Magnificat, is one of the Psalms of the New Testament. No other passage in the New Testament so perfectly blends the praise of God from the Psalms, the message of justice from the prophets, and the confidence in God's faithfulness incarnate in Jesus Christ. Yet we must admit: Mary's song speaks against our own hearts, threatens our self-interests, and challenges our assumptions about what it means to be important, valuable, even good. The Magnificat is Jesus' parables of the kingdom in song. It is appropriate that in some Christian traditions, along with the Lord's Prayer, this is the one biblical text that is prayed every day. When it becomes our prayer, we can hear in the way it speaks against our hearts, in its stern "No!" of judgement, God's ultimate "Yes!" of grace.

Knowing the first shall be last, and the last first; the proud scattered in the thoughts of their hearts; the powerful brought down, the lowly lifted up; the hungry filled with good things, and the rich sent empty away, we entrust ourselves to you, O Lord, in grace and in judgment. Amen.

Michael Jinkins (DMin'83)

Academic Dean and Professor of Pastoral Theology;

Austin Seminary Ambassador

II Samuel 7:1-11, 16

      Deep in the fabric of the Old Testament the promise of Advent is shadowed.  Down the long corridor of the ages a promise is given and then given again, and yet again.  To Abraham:  "Leave kith and kin and make your way to a new land."  To Jacob:  "A new name for you...ISRAEL, the one who wrestles with God."  And here in Samuel, the prophet's word to King David:  "Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever." (II Samuel 7:16)  

But in the years following David, the kingdom of Israel  crumbled under the hammer of history, and in its wake: destruction, exile, and mourning for a dream indefinitely postponed.  But even there, in the center of the maelstrom of history, there were other prophetic whispers calling to Israel: "Wait for the promise.  Wait for great David's greater Son.  Somehow--above the raw jumble and confusion of life--it's as if Yahweh sort of grits his teeth and cries, "I will not forget David.  I will not forget the promise.  I will remember."

At Christmastide we herald the promise anew.  There is a response so that dangling anticipation.  The Son of David is among us; Christ the King is loose among us!  But what an unimaginable fulfillment of the promise of Yahweh!  What a King is this;  His birth, in a stall; His robe, borrowed; His crown, thorns;  His throne, a cross.  Now risen in glory, here is our king, towering "o'r the wrecks of time."

SOLI DEO GLORIA

Great God our King , startle us anew with your faithful promise, and even more, startle us with the strange and wondrous fulfillment of that promise in Christ Jesus.  the King of kings is among us, and He has claimed His people for all eternity.  Amen.

John M. McCoy (MDiv'63)

Austin Seminary Ambassador and Partner

Former Chair of the Board from Dalla, Texas

Phillippians 4:4-9

Mary and Elizabeth meet with their hopeful eyes and swollen bellies, and their babies leap. Mary, overwhelmed by God knocking about insider of her , echoes Hannah and the prophets as she sings out the soaring Magnificat.  That must have been some kind of kick.

I remember having those wonderful pains seven years ago.  I'm in my third trimester, standing in the sweet little sanctuary in Louisiana, admiring its moss green aisle and simple stained glass.  The sanctuary is not the only things that's green.  I'm a new pastor, and I' m not entirely comfortable with my role at the table, before the bread and the wine.

Lifting the loaf in the air, I tear it in half and repeat the words of Jesus.  As I proclaim, "This my body," my belly begins shifting with smooth oceanic movements. Even under the giant black robe, I notice my stomach transforming into alien shapes.  I smile and think: Oh no.  Not now.  Please go back to sleep.

As I raise the cup, it's no longer a gentle rolling.  I feel jabs, right under my rib cage.  I gasp as she plays soccer with my internal organs.  My eyes widen, and I almost spill the wine as she kicks me...hard.  Barely containing my laughter, I continue.  Breathing deeply, I am stretched and transformed by this great and wonderful pain.  With each jolt, a sense of joy overwhelms me.  And for the first time, I feel at home-in my bloated, pregnant body and at the table, as a pastor.

Holy God, our Creator, teach us to delight in every circumstance and to rejoice in who you have made us to be.  Holy Spirit, our Sustainer, stretch us and form us this Advent season.  Jesus Christ, our Liberator, give us hope as we wait for you in expectant anticipation.  Amen.

Carol Howard Merritt (MDiv'98)

Pastor, Western Presbyterian church,

Washington, D.C. 

I Thessalonians 5:16-24

Not that you need reminding...Christmas is only ten days away.  There is simply too much to do.  Even when we try to simplify the season, our "to-do" lists overflow with parties to attend, presents to buy, sermons to write, and the list goes on and on and on.  As soon as we manage to cross off an item, we remember five more things we've forgotten we needed to do.  Our days are dictated by our "to-do" lists.

Upon first reading today's passage, it seems only to add to the list of things we must accomplish.  Paul gives us a list of tasks we will never complete.  Eventually Christmas potlucks wind down, but we'll never be able to cross off "pray without ceasing."  Write a sermon...no problem.  Rejoice always...I'll never have the satisfaction of crossing that one off my  list.

Thankfully, this isn't a list that defines what we do, it is a list that defines what kind of people we are to become.  It is a list that must be continually read with verse 24 in mind.  Like the season of Advent in which we anticipate the joyful return of Christ, we look to the end of this passage to sustain us in the present.  Rejoice always...the one who calls you is faithful.  Pray without ceasing...the one who calls you is faithful.  Write sermons, attend parties, and buy some presents...remembering that the one whose birth we celebrate, and whose return we anticipate, is truly faithful.

God of peace, you promise to sanctify us, to keep us sound and blameless.  As we remember the one who came, and promises to come again, may we be constantly reminded that you are faithful.  In the busyness of this season make us mindful of the people you want us to become.  Amen.

Joseph Moore

Senior Student from Austin, Texas

Isaiah 61

Simone Weil explains that there are different categories of need: (1) physical needs of the body; (2) spiritual needs of the soul; and (3) physical needs of the soul.  It is this third category that is most often neglected.  We tend to think of the "Good News" as primarily spiritual in content.  Yet the Good News Isaiah brings the oppressed is that God will meet the physical needs of the souls.  The gates of jails will be unlocked, and prisoners will be freed.  Devastated cities will be rebuilt, and dislocated person will reclaim their homes and heritages.  Victims of robbery and wrongdoing will be compensated, vindicated, and restored.  And in and through all this concrete, physical healing will be accomplished the healing of souls.  Mourning will be replaced by gladness; we will rejoice in the Lord.  Free, sheltered, and blessed, we-whose physical brokenness is no more--will also be healed of our spiritual brokeness.   Sin will no longer cling to us; we will instead be clothed with "the garments of salvation" and the "the robe of righteousness."

In Luke 4 Jesus said that these words in Isaiah have been "fulfilled."  If so, then why is there still so much brokenness, both physical and spiritual?  Perhaps, our frenetic materialism and yuletide over indulgences are somehow fueled by a deep yearning for physical healing that is finally essential to the healing of our souls.  Isaiah's words challenge me, therefore, to consider:  How, this season, will I attend to my and others' physical needs in ways that fully participate in the Good News?

Your Kingdom come, Lord God!  Your will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.  Give all, on this day, the food they need to live and flourish.  Forgive us, as we forgive others.  Deliver us from robbery and wrongdoing and guide us into the justice and righteousness that is your promise.  Amen.

Cynthia L. Rigby

W.C. Brown Professor of Theology

Psalm 126

These are troubling times.  At the time this is being written the economy looks less than healthy, gasoline prices are soaring, home mortgages failing, and food prices continue to rise.  The whole world seems to be in chaos; war, famine, fire, floods, cancer, and autism are in the news daily.  Even the church has divisive issues that seem to be tearing it apart.  And so we cry out:  Restore us, O Lord, bring back our fortunes, restore our homes, bring our troops home as quickly as possible, rid the world of selfish leaders, cure us of the diseases that plague us.

Those of us who are older can look back and remember troubling events in our history: dreadful wars, the depression, polio tuberculosis, segregation, a divided church.  In the midst of those tumultuous events we also cried out to God.  We can also remember when each terrible event ended.  "Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy..." (v.2)

During this Advent season, let us be filled with the hope and anticipation that we have is Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, who has never left us alone.  May we joyfully share this hope, reminding ourselves and others whom we meet that "The Lord has done great things for us, and we rejoiced." (v. 3).

All powerful and loving God, we are so grateful that you have never left us alone.  Help us always remember and share with others the hope which is now rekindled in the Advent season through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Charlene and John Chesshir

Austin Seminary Partners from Corpus Christi

Isaiah 40:1-11

As you drive east from my parent's home in East Texas, through the tunnel of trees that is State Highway 154,  you pass through a crossroads community called Little Hope, Texas, with the obligatory Little Hope Baptist Church.  I have always been amused that someone would name a community, much less a church, Little Hope.  I am sure their is a compelling story in the name.

So, what would cause you to have such little hope?  Perhaps, if you had to watch the center of your religious life being destroyed, and then find yourself uprooted from your home and taken into exile in a foreign land.  That is the situation about which the prophet Isaiah writes with such moving poetry:  "Comfort, comfort, my people," says your God, "speak tenderly to Jerusalem and cry to her that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned..."(vs. 1,2).  Now there is a cause for great hope in a time of little hope.  Then Isaiah proclaims: "In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God." (v.3)  Now we know.  In a land of little hope.  God will prepare a way for God's people to go home--to their true home--kneeling at the foot of the manger, there to: "Behold your God!"  There we discover:

"Israel's strength and consolation.  Hope of all the earth Thou art..."

Gracious God, in a world of little hope and even despair, allow us to wait with great hope and eager anticipation the coming of your beloved Son.  Amen.

David M. Evans

Austin Seminary Ambassador and Partner

Director of Seminary Relations

Luke 1:46-55

Hello.  My name is Mary.  I am not much older than a "tween" and am a teenage pregnant girl.   And I want to tell you what great things the Lord has done for me.  You may be thinking, "What! Being an unwed teenager is a good thing?"  I wondered about that too.  When I received the wonderful announcement that I would bear a child who would be called the Son of the most High, I'll have to admit that I was both astounded beyond belief and grateful at the same time. Me! Lowly and poor--at the bottom of the food chain-will be the mother of our new king and will never be hungry again!  How can this be?  This must be all God's doing.  This is how it feels to receive and experience the blessed mercy of God our Savior.  This is why my spirit wells up within me with praises and rejoicing. 

Do you know what this means for you, my friend?  That my experience is also yours.  You too have the privilege of bearing Jesus into the world.  For this is our mutual calling, our mutual ministry.  The Lord has done a great thing for me.   God used me as an instrument to bring our beloved Savior into the world and wants to do the same with you.  This is good news. God has chosen you as an instrument to continue what was begun with me:  so rejoice and sing with me!  Praise God with me!

Dear Bearer of Life, Like Mary,  I am grateful that you have looked with favor on me,  your servant.  Use me, Lord so that I too can praise  you and say, "The Lord has done great things for me."  Amen.

Isabel S. Rivera-Velez

Senior Student from Galveston, Texas

Luke 3:12-6

Could they be more specific about the when, where, what , and who of this proclamation?  How tedious  I read these lines and was stumped, so I turned to a colleague and challenged him"  write a devotional about this.  He did:

"Poet Robert Frost maintained that God's ultimate act of humility and love was demonstrated in God's substantiation.  There is no doctrine more troubling to those who would be more spiritual than God than the doctrine of the incarnation.  God is not made human by a good idea, as a good speech, but in a historical action.  This is why the Gospel begins at this point--so  seemingly mundane-- with a statement that is purely historical.  'In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, ' God acted here, at this moment, in this place, and God made God's life and love known to us here, at this moment , in this place.  Nothing else reveals fully the love of God but this vulnerable, transient, human act of God.  The Word (eternal, everlasting, worthy of every Latin epitaph we can attach to it) became flesh and dwelt among us, not just as a fact, but as a neighbor.  And God calls us to this same humanity in the neighborhood that knows no bounds." 

I couldn't have done better and told him not to be surprised if he saw his words in print.  Then, as I reread it, I saw, too.  And once mundane historical notations now testified to the re-voicing of Isaiah's prophecy: "...and all flesh shall see the salvation of God." (v.6).  Indeed, we have.

We don't always get it when others do.  May we allow our understandings to be informed and shaped by those around us, for you speak yourself through everyone. 

Jacqueline  Hefley

Austin Seminary Partner

Registrar

Psalm 126

This is a song of ascents.  Even before they arrive in the temple, they are already singing praises to God.  They praise God for giving blessings to Israelites, and they are praising God for the same "great things" for them.  Their praises are full of anticipation of the birth of baby Jesus, the newborn King.

But, their expectation of God is pretty modest.  They want God to give them harvest for their work, not to exceed their endeavor, but only up to their endeavor.  They are asking as much as they weep bearing the seed for sowing, so that God would allow them to come home with their sheaves in joy.  In other words, they are praying that God will bless their hard work.

However, think about this season of Advent.  We are reaping what we have not sown at all.  Jesus came to this world for us, and we have not done anything for that event to happen.  If we were to pray like Israelites, we can't imagine what we could have ended up doing for Jesus to come and save us.  God knew we could not do anything to deserve the blessings.

God sent Jesus into this world without our weeping, bearing, sowing, and shouting,; an yet we were able to harvest in salvation and eternal life.  We harvested "great things" in this world without our endeavor.  What an amazing blessing this is for all God's people!   This is truly good news.

Gracious God, we give you praise for giving us the greatest thing,  Jesus Christ.  In this Advent season, may your Spirit use us to share that blessing with many people around us.  In the name of Jesus we pray.  Amen

Jennifer Lee

Senior Student from Austin, Texas.

Phillippians 1:3-11

Advent is a time of longing.  We long for so many things at this time of year.  We long for peace and hope in a troubled world.  We long for reconciliation with family members and estranged friends.  We long for some modicum of joy in our lives and in our ministries.

Many of us harbor a longing that maybe this year, just maybe, we will have what they call a "Merry Christmas."  How often we have wished that for others knowing full well it all too often escapes our grasp.

In this letter to the Phillippians, Paul voices a longing.  It is a poignant longing, since he is in prison.  He writes this: "For God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the compassion of Christ Jesus."  (v.8).  Paul yearns to be with his sisters and brothers who had supported him and encouraged him.  He remembers with deep thanksgiving how they had shared "in the gospel from the first day until now."  He is confident that they "hold me in your heart."

This is a close and lovely bond of affection between Paul and the Phillippian Christians.  And so he prays that "your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight."  He hopes that in the day of Christ, "you may be pure and blameless."  Perhaps Paul gives us some insight into what to hope for one another this Advent season-something deeply rooted in the love of Christ.

Gracious God, we long for a peace that passes all understanding this Advent season.  We pray that your mysterious peace may rest upon those we love and upon the whole world.  O God of our hopes, grant us "Peace on earth."  Amen.

Frank Yates (MDiv'75, DMin'84)

President, Austin Seminary Association Board;

Pastor, St. Andrew Presbyterian Church, 

Albequerque, New Mexico

Mark 1:1-8

The book of Mark begins with the introduction of John the Baptist as the one who comes preparing and making the way for Jesus Christ.  John ventures out into the desert region, otherwise known as the wilderness, calling out for the confession and repentance of sins.  He subsequently baptizes the Judeans and proclaims the arrival of Jesus, who baptizes with more than just water.

This passage often garners up images of wildernesses and remote desert regions of which we hardly have a clue.  In our fast-paced, internet, and cell phone age we are overrun by distraction and continual stimulus.  But, what about that wilderness?  Why is the wilderness such a shimmering note in this passage?  Perhaps it is a clue.  Perhaps it is a hint as to where to go to center ourselves and communicate with God.

In a recent backpacking trip I was rewarded with the wonderful gift of solitude in the mountains of Colorado.  We went together into the mountains and did not take any watches, cell phones, or electronic devices.  We were there to be in the moment.  We managed to slow down our pace from the hustling and bustling of our hectic lives to a pace where we could hear and listen.  We spent eight wonderful days in serenity listening to what God was telling us.  So when things get hectic and God becomes harder and harder to hear, find the wilderness in your life.  find your center, so that you may hear clearly what God is saying.

Sovereign and Creator God, it seems that the noisiness of our lives makes it difficult to hear you sometimes.  We pray that when we struggle to hear you, we can find that wilderness in our lives to center ourselves and listen to your calling.  In Jesus' name we pray.  Amen.  

Jose Lopez

Middler Student from Arlington, Texas

Psalm 85:1-13

This is a Psalm about God, and it is a Psalm about time-not so much about God's own time, but about God in our time.  The first three verses of the Psalm are in the past tense.  They celebrate what God has done.  The last six verses are in the future.  They celebrate what God will do.  Both of these sections, past and future, are confident affirmations of the power and goodness of God. But the four verses in the middle (vs 4-7) are  not affirmations.  They are questions and supplications  Will you be angry?  Will you revive us?  Restore us and save us!

Advent is the question of the present that lies between the affirmations of the past and the future.  Advent is the "What about now?" that lies between memory and promise.  It is always question and prayer.  The Lord created all, the Lord saved the people,  Christ was born, Christ is risen, and Christ will come again, but what about now?

This question is not a riddle with a verbal answer.  Rather it is a mystery in which we live.  God weaves what will be out of what has been, in the moment of what is, and we live in that moment.  Will we love in that moment?  Will we forgive in that moment?  Will we rejoice in that moment?  Will we encounter God in that moment?  Or will pain, fear, self-centeredness, and sin rob us of the hope that is to come?  What about now?

Gracious Lord, we put the question, "What about now?" to you, and you put the same question to us.  Let the knowledge that you are eternally our God and Savior give us the comfort, courage and hope that will sustain us this day and always.  Amen.

David Johnson

Director of Supervised Practice of Ministry

II Peter 3:8-15a

In the Dr. Seuss book Oh the places You'll Go, there is this excerpt about waiting:

The Waiting Place...for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come,

or a plane to go or the mail to come,

or the rain to go or the phone to ring,

of the snow to snow

or waiting around for a Yes or No

or waiting for their hair to grow...

Everyone is just waiting.

    Sometimes Advent feels like that.  Waiting for what is to come, preparing for what might be, and in the midst of all that anticipation, maybe even forgetting the true reason for this season of waiting. So, while we are "hastening the coming of the day" as II Peter suggests, let us use this time for some spiritual formation by actively waiting. May our anticipation spur us to wait with new yes and heart alert to our surrounding-- by finding ways to be agents of change and hospitality in our community and to the stranger whom we will surely encounter in the living of these waiting days.

    We wait for you, Emmanuel.  And we wait upon you in our service to one another.  Make our waiting time worthy time.  use it to form us into the heralds of the new creation.  And let us know you are near as we wait.  Amen.

Jackie Saxon (MDiv'00)

Admissions Counselors;

Austin Seminary Association Board

Isaiah 11:1-10

    I smile as I recall the words of Woody Allen:  "When the calf and the lion lie down together, the calf isn't going to get much sleep."  Humor aside, Isaiah gives voice to a new vision of promise--a vision of a new way.  God is promising, through the words of Isaiah, hope for a day of peace--a day of the coming of the Messiah.  And the vision is that of a healed and whole, a reconciled and reordered creation.

    Isaiah's vision inspired Edward Hicks, the 19th-century artist, to paint "The Peaceable Kingdom."  A huge rendition of the painting hangs in the downtown lobby of the largest bank in San Antonio, reminding customers of a day and  a time when violence will be no more.  In that bank tapestry all the animals are there with wide and startled eyes.  And in the middle, a child. No wonder!  What the vision Isaiah saw and spoke of is nothing short of astonishing.  Here is creation reordered, reorganized with all the violence gone.  And a child in the center.

    Advent promises such a day can come! In this season of Advent may these moving words nudge us to implore God to hasten the day when Isaiah 's promise becomes reality in our trouble and strife-torn world.  Even so! Come Lord Jesus!

In these days of candles and carols, creche and cards, remind us, O God, that the meaning of these days is not the setting, but rather the birth of the One who brings light out of dark, victory from defeat, hope from despair, and life out of death.  Your name, O God, be ever praised through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Louis H. Zbinden, Jr.

Zbinden Professor of Pastoral Ministry;

Trustee Emeritus from San Antonio, Texas

Mark 13:24-37

    Watch and prayer!  The Gospel of Mark gives us a call to be alert and prepared for Jesus Christ's coming. We are asked to be changed and fortified by God's word and assist the in-breaking of the kingdom of heaven on  earth now, in our daily lives.
    Working with men incarcerated at the New Mexico State Penitentiary taught me the power of solitude for training one's alertness and observation skills.   They had very little human contact, yet they were keenly skilled in watching and listening to discern what was about o happen.  They sought control and power over an environment that was cold, hard, unforgiving, and unpredictable.
    Not knowing what or when something is coming may cause us to feel itchy, distracted, and unproductive.  We can spend our time ruminating on the past or so focused on our future that we miss the "precious present."  In the now is where we are most available, aware, observant, on the ball and ready to fulfill God's constant call to be a servant of the Gospel and disciple of Christ.
    Life is hectic; therefore, let us take time during Advent to be alert to God speaking to us.  We do this in prayer, confession, worship, serving, celebrating, silence, and simplicity.  When we intentionally practice these spiritual disciplines, we prepare ourselves to listen for and actively seek and be God's will. 

Eternal God, always present and deeply caring for all of your children, prepare our minds and hearts to be ready to act on the promise of your Word.  Help us to be your will by loving and caring for persons who are alone and need our generous love.  In Christ's name we pray.  Amen.

Will Hembach

Senior Student form Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19

    With heartfelt lyrics, the psalmist pleads for restoration, deliverance, and salvation.  It is a cry echoed en masse by the entire community as they lament together their current state of separation from God. Not once, not twice, but three times they beseech God to relieve them from their distress: "Restore us, O God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved." (v.7).

    While not overtly repentant or remorseful, this lamentation still conveys the nation's deep longing to be favored once again: To reestablish the former, preforesaken relationship that existed between them and God.  And so, they ache openly for the Almighty to intervene, knowing that God-involvement is necessary to grant them the new life they desire.  Then, having voiced the final refrain of this sacred song, they wait in expectation for God's response.

    And now, centuries later, with a hindsight that sees this prayer ultimately answered by God's in-breaking into humanity--an event the psalmist probably never even imagined--and with a foretaste of the Kingdom upon our bread-and-wine-kissed lips, we find ourselves in a season of expectant waiting, too.  Advent is upon us.  We wait; we await; we anticipate.  We are counting the days until a swaddled babe appears in the unlikely locale of a Bethlehem manger and dwells with us here on earth.  Our Savior is coming!  And still, in this in-between time, we wait; we await; we anticipate something more--a consummation of creation that, like the psalmist, we probably can't even imagine to the full extent of its glory.  Come, Lord Jesus!

God-With-Us, we stand in awe of your never-ending love for us. Bless us with a faith that transforms our yearning to anticipation, that we may share your grace-filled love, and the hope it represents, with all whom we meet.  In Christ's name we pray.  Amen

Britta Dukes (MDiv'05)

Austin Seminary Ambassador; Associate Pastor,

Shepherd of the Hills Presbyterian Church , Austin, Texas.

1 Corinthians 1:3-9

Waiting does not come easily to us. Waiting is annoying, inefficient, and frustrating, especially when we have grown accustomed to convenience, immediacy, and gratification. While reading this passage, I found myself eagerly consuming all that God has done for me–how I have been enriched and strengthened in Christ, and I cannot wait for the strengthening that God will do for me in the future. I am ravenous for more! But, tucked quietly between the past-tense testimony of what God has done for us, and the future-tense promises of what God will do for us, the Apostle Paul describes our Christian condition: we are waiting for the revealing of our Lord. I cannot escape the possibilities for this word, wait. It is the hinge in the passage. Before wait, we are told what we have been given. After wait, we glimpse the future, and we see what will be. To wait is to dwell in the liminal space of God’s time: between what God has done and what God will do. To be sure, waiting is not doing nothing; waiting is allowing oneself to be open to the possibilities of God’s abundance, revealed in Jesus Christ. This is Advent. We are called to wait. I think about the wisdom of waiting. I think about not speaking too soon, of not jumping to conclusions, and of first seeking to understand. I ponder the virtue of patience. Wait with me. Wait with me for the revealing of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

Gracious God, we give thanks to you for the abundant blessings in our lives. Amid the turbulence of our lives, we know that you have blessed us to be a blessing. With confidence in your faithfulness, we wait in joyful hope for the revelation of your son, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Paul D. Dubois

Senior Student from Austin, Texas