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