First Tuesday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
Micah 4:6-13
Israel’s Return from Exile.6 “In that coming day,” says the Lord, “I will gather together those who are lame, those who have been exiles, and those whom I have filled with grief. 7 Those who are weak will survive as a remnant; those who were exiles will become a strong nation. Then I, the Lord, will rule from Jerusalem as their king forever.” 8 As for you, Jerusalem, the citadel of God’s people, your royal might and power will come back to you again. The kingship will be restored to my precious Jerusalem. 9 But why are you now screaming in terror? Have you no king to lead you? Have your wise people all died? Pain has gripped you like a woman in childbirth. 10 Writhe and groan like a woman in labor, you people of Jerusalem, for now you must leave this city to live in the open country. You will soon be sent in exile to distant Babylon. But the Lord will rescue you there; he will redeem you from the grip of your enemies. 11 Now many nations have gathered against you. “Let her be desecrated,” they say. “Let us see the destruction of Jerusalem.” 12 But they do not know the Lord’s thoughts or understand his plan. These nations don’t know that he is gathering them together to be beaten and trampled like sheaves of grain on a threshing floor. 13 “Rise up and crush the nations, O Jerusalem!” says the Lord. “For I will give you iron horns and bronze hooves, so you can trample many nations to pieces. You will present their stolen riches to the Lord, their wealth to the Lord of all the earth.”
Psalm 79
A psalm of Asaph.1 O God, pagan nations have conquered your land, your special possession. They have defiled your holy Temple and made Jerusalem a heap of ruins. 2 They have left the bodies of your servants as food for the birds of heaven. The flesh of your godly ones has become food for the wild animals. 3 Blood has flowed like water all around Jerusalem; no one is left to bury the dead. 4 We are mocked by our neighbors, an object of scorn and derision to those around us. 5 O Lord, how long will you be angry with us? Forever? How long will your jealousy burn like fire? 6 Pour out your wrath on the nations that refuse to acknowledge you— on kingdoms that do not call upon your name. 7 For they have devoured your people Israel, making the land a desolate wilderness. 8 Do not hold us guilty for the sins of our ancestors! Let your compassion quickly meet our needs, for we are on the brink of despair. 9 Help us, O God of our salvation! Help us for the glory of your name. Save us and forgive our sins for the honor of your name. 10 Why should pagan nations be allowed to scoff, asking, “Where is their God?” Show us your vengeance against the nations, for they have spilled the blood of your servants. 11 Listen to the moaning of the prisoners. Demonstrate your great power by saving those condemned to die. 12 O Lord, pay back our neighbors seven times for the scorn they have hurled at you. 13 Then we your people, the sheep of your pasture, will thank you forever and ever, praising your greatness from generation to generation.
Revelation 18:1-10
The Fall of Babylon18 After all this I saw another angel come down from heaven with great authority, and the earth grew bright with his splendor. 2 He gave a mighty shout: “Babylon is fallen—that great city is fallen! She has become a home for demons. She is a hideout for every foul spirit, a hideout for every foul vulture and every foul and dreadful animal. 3 For all the nations have fallen because of the wine of her passionate immorality. The kings of the world have committed adultery with her. Because of her desires for extravagant luxury, the merchants of the world have grown rich.” 4 Then I heard another voice calling from heaven, “Come away from her, my people. Do not take part in her sins, or you will be punished with her. 5 For her sins are piled as high as heaven, and God remembers her evil deeds. 6 Do to her as she has done to others. Double her penalty for all her evil deeds. She brewed a cup of terror for others, so brew twice as much for her. 7 She glorified herself and lived in luxury, so match it now with torment and sorrow. She boasted in her heart, ‘I am queen on my throne. I am no helpless widow, and I have no reason to mourn.’ 8 Therefore, these plagues will overtake her in a single day— death and mourning and famine. She will be completely consumed by fire, for the Lord God who judges her is mighty.” 9 And the kings of the world who committed adultery with her and enjoyed her great luxury will mourn for her as they see the smoke rising from her charred remains. 10 They will stand at a distance, terrified by her great torment. They will cry out, “How terrible, how terrible for you, O Babylon, you great city! In a single moment God’s judgment came on you.”
O Come Emmanuel
Dustin spends his time exploring the far reaches of space, understand the ancient ways of might and magic, and wandering the post-apocalyptic wastes. If it has a reasonably open world, a crafting system and some way to sneak around he'll be there. When not gaming he's probably planning his next D&D character (because his DM keeps killing off the old ones). He is a competent bass player and guitarist, mediocre mid laner and outright awful FPS player. He is the father of 2, husband of 1, a sometimes theologian, and all-times pastor of Crestview Park Free Methodist church in Winnipeg, MB.
I’ve always been a little afraid of the second coming of Christ. There’s a lot of good things in the world and there were so many things I wanted to experience before we were all “whisked away to that spirit in the sky.” I wanted to experience the fullest possible human experience before it was all exchanged for something spiritual. And I don’t mean all the bad things of the world. It was things like marriage, family, a good job, a nice house, a car, positions of authority in the community and the like. I thought all these things would disappear when Christ returns, which is indicative of the rapture theology I was raised in, but also the inherent privilege I grew up in.
I say this having grown up in a home filled with mental, emotional and physical abuse all fueled by a parent with significant substance abuse problems. I was privileged though in that one of my parents worked hard to mitigate those things and we had extended family that was there for us when it all fell apart. As well I was never told that I was no better than this or deserved this life for any reason. I believed it could be overcome and all those good experiences in life could still be achieved. So I didn’t need freedom from this world, just my particular situations, and then life could be fine.
Over the last couple of years, I’ve come to see this world clearer and started to long for the advent more. I’ve come to see the deep disenfranchisement the world that I thought had such hope has created for women, my brothers and sisters of colour, LGBTQ+ people, and everyone else who doesn’t make up the top couple of percent of the population. But more than that I’ve come to see the hope that the world provides is one that, if I participate in, wraps me in chains of selfishness, greed and consumerism and is only truly possible if I participate in the abuse of those marginalized people. So much of the “great life” that I thought was available, if I worked hard enough, was me looking at the lives of the “kings of the world who committed adultery with Babylon and enjoyed her great luxury”(Rev 18:3) and thinking it looked like a good life.
I’ve come to see the good life that I long for, and that I long for us all to experience, is not one that is forged in our present world, but neither is it one that requires a departure from this place. While my sense of prosperity and hope had to be challenged, so too did my understanding of what advent really meant. Christ coming isn’t about taking us away to the kingdom in the clouds or to some other place where everything will be perfect so this broken world can burn, but instead a coming to heal and restore the brokenness and injustice amongst us. And it feels like the brokenness and injustice has hit an all-time high.
Around this time last year, we began to hear about a virus in China that was spreading quickly and aggressively throughout the country. It was a virus that humans had little resistance to and dramatically affected the elderly and immunocompromised, killing many. At this time it looked like a problem “over there” but seemed pretty serious. Two months later it began to move around the world and whispers of a pandemic began. Canada had its first cases and the whisper turned into murmurs in corners. March 18th was the last physical service we had here in Winnipeg and less than half the normal attendees showed up. It began a year of virtual meetings, pandemic fear, managed and mismanaged curves and all kinds of mental and emotional stress. We moved from “it’s going to be okay” to “is it going to be okay?” to “anytime now Lord, I don’t know how much more we can take.”
In the midst of this pandemic, we watched a black man suffocate, murdered by a white policeman abusing his power. This was a catalytic death in a long list of deaths that sparked mass protests mid pandemic across many countries. The sickening truth of how deeply racist North America is was exposed for all of us who knew it was “a thing” but didn’t realize how brutal of a thing it was. This realization did little to stop the violence as more and more injustice came to light. Women killed in their sleep, men shot in the back trying to help, random shots into protest groups and black-van capture squads all happened on live television while the “leader of the free world” tear-gassed his own people for a photo op with a Bible in front of a historic church. And my voice joins the psalmist in Psalm 79 saying:
Help us, O God of our salvation!
Help us for the glory of your name.
Save us and forgive our sins
for the honour of your name.
10 Why should pagan nations be allowed to scoff,
asking, “Where is their God?”
Show us your vengeance against the nations,
for they have spilled the blood of your servants.
11 Listen to the moaning of the prisoners.
Demonstrate your great power by saving those condemned to die.
I find myself resonating with the cries of Israel as they await the Messiah. I’m no longer worried I won’t see enough, feel enough or enjoy this world before the return. The injustice, disease and hopelessness as the days get shorter and the night longer finds lament on my heart and the tiny little prayer of “come, Lord Jesus, come” occupying all my mind. I’m ready for a Messiah to come and break the powers that produce little but death and destruction and lead us into justice and mercy. It is with renewed longing—and no small amount of pain—that we sing “O Come Emmanuel” and pray for the advent.
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