Luke 18

Waiting as a heart posture

by Wes Lambert

This Advent season is particularly literal for me as we expect our first child this upcoming March. My wife is slowing down. For all the ways I am trying to act like things are normal, I'm learning to recalibrate my understanding and go at a slower pace. But waiting is vulnerable. As Richard Rohr says, “it's the things we can't do anything about (the helpless things) and the things we can't do anything with (the useless things) that bring the deepest change in us.”

From an unexpected, more or less divine command of birthing the son of God to long, grueling journeys for a census while being pregnant, to the physical birthing of Jesus, I imagine Mary and Joseph felt hopeless and useless at times, yet trusted they were being changed in the process. Later, Jesus’ ministry was such that it didn't seem to have a rhyme or reason. The disciples were constantly confused and wondering about what was next and what it all meant. For someone trying to save the world, he sure didn’t seem like he was in a hurry or pressured to explain it all.

We don't just wait with the expectation of something to come. We also wait with the trust that something is already here, yet, slowly revealing itself in due time. Our deepest longings within us that cry out with the question “How long will we wait?” are met with the deepest satisfaction of Jesus in and as the waiting itself. We often ask the question “Are we there yet?” when Jesus is often asking us, “Are you here now?”

There’s a song by Hillsong that says, “You could have saved us in a second but instead you sent a child.” To me, this shows how Jesus went through the entire process of humanity from birth until death. He even subjected himself to all the processes and systems that we complain about! Rules, hierarchies, red tape. He didn't submit to those things as final truth, but he honored them as necessary developmental processes. Luke 2:52 says, “Jesus grew in wisdom and stature.” We don’t like to admit that we follow a God who bypassed completeness for the sake of relationship and connection in the process.

In Luke 18, a beggar is told that Jesus is coming down the road and cries out for salvation. “Jesus stood still and he asked him,‘What do you want me to do for you?’ He said, ‘Lord, let me see again.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Receive your sight; your faith has saved you.’ Immediately he regained his sight and followed him.”

We are all blind and in need of saving. Many voices in our lives try to drown us out and keep us quiet. But God hears us. He stops and instead of just doing something, he asks us questions. He helps us be present to ourselves and the states of our hearts. This blind man had waited years to be healed, you’d think that Jeus would just heal him as an obvious action. But God is more concerned with us understanding and knowing his love than he is just giving us what we want. The man asked for physical sight but just like many Bible stories, the physical is symbolic. The man could see again in every sense of the word. This seeing allowed him to then follow Jesus. 

We often wait, blinded and helplessly wondering if we’ll ever be saved. Death, illness, loss and hardship can feel overwhelming and absolute. Jesus, meets us where we are and hears our cries. He meets us in the waiting and waits. He heals us, delivers us and restores us to be able to follow him. 

As we come to the end of this Advent season, try practices that help you patiently trust and be present to the process. From giving to those in need to having more days of rest, to more daily moments of silence and stillness, we all need constant interruptions that slow us down and help us not get too far ahead.

Just like God walked with Adam and did not run. We must learn to go at the pace of God. Out of our fear and insecurities, we tend to stay back and hide or rush ahead to lead. Let us learn to be step in step just like Mary did with the donkey, all the way to Bethlehem. All the way to our own birthing of God in and with us, Emmanual. Not knowing exactly where to go but always being sure of where we’re at and Who is with us on the journey.

Wes is a writer, psychotherapist and spiritual director focused on male development and contemplative spirituality. He and his wife live in Medford and are expecting their first son this spring. 

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Revelation 12

by Amanda Ward

This Advent, we have been reflecting together on what it looks like to wait for what we already have. Dave has reminded us that when we come to the communion table, we remember Christ’s first coming in Bethlehem, we anticipate his future coming at the end of the ages, and we expect his present coming into our hearts. Waiting for what we already have changes our relationship with time. Past, present, and future overlap in mysterious ways. Revelation 12 tells a story that sits in this same space of overlapping time. 

And a great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. She was pregnant and was crying out in birth pains and the agony of giving birth. And another sign appeared in heaven: behold, a great red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns, and on his heads seven diadems. His tail swept down a third of the stars of heaven and cast them to the earth. And the dragon stood before the woman who was about to give birth, so that when she bore her child he might devour it. 

Like a diamond, if you hold this story up to the light and spin it around, its many facets will sparkle. We remember Eve, the mother of humanity whose unborn child was prophesied to be at enmity with the serpent (Genesis 3:15). We remember the faithful of Israel waiting for the sign of Immanuel, a child born of a virgin, because they themselves had failed to give birth to salvation (Isaiah 7:14, 26:18). We remember the yes of Mary who delivered the Messiah into the line of David (Luke 2:1-20). The pregnant promises of God encase this story like an onion, and in the next scene, we get a glimpse of our future reality.

She gave birth to a male child, one who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron, but her child was caught up to God and to his throne, and the woman fled into the wilderness, where she has a place prepared by God, in which she is to be nourished for 1,260 days.

Indeed, we wait for what we already have: the one who is to rule all the nations. This Child has been born to us already! He has already been caught up to God out of the womb and the tomb and reigns supreme from his heavenly throne room. And yet we wait. We wait in the wilderness, kept by God until the time set for the final Advent.

As I spin this diamond around, I cannot pretend to understand its many facets. Its many surfaces intersect and refract and magnify the light into something beautiful and strange. Like John off in the wings of this 14th century depiction of the Woman and the Dragon that has been our companion through Advent, we look on this scene and wonder how we can stand in this convergence of time, past, present, and future. With Christ behind us, Christ in us, and Christ before us, let us march on through the wilderness towards Christmas Day.

Amanda just finished her first semester of a Masters of Divinity at Gordon Conwell Theological Seminary. She is looking forward to road-tripping to NC to visit family for the holidays with her husband Ryan, a good audiobook (have any recs?), and a tote full of Trader Joe's snacks.


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Isaiah 58 & Psalm 77

by Christine Jones

The Advent season is the most celebrated Christian season - by Christians and non-Christian alike. However, for all of the pervasiveness of Christmas-ness around the world, it is pretty easy to be un-Christian this time of year. All of the things we “do” to anticipate Christmas are stressful. Add all of the “end of year” job and family duties and it can be downright hard to be charitable to others. Meanwhile, the secular culture of Christmas does not help. A stroll down Newbury Street (where I live) is a journey into self-expression with tourists and residents alike jostling for favor.

Watching the street from my window, I am tempted to focus inward, to join the crowds in search of the one gift that will be the best, the one meal I need to “celebrate” all my hard work. Fortunately, our readings today confront this reality of the human experience and offer wisdom.

Isaiah 58 famously calls out those who eagerly draw attention to themselves through their pious activities.  Isaiah 58:3 ‘Why aren’t you impressed? We have been very hard on ourselves, and you don’t even notice it!’ 

But the Lord responds with the fast he really wants. And it is a long list of actions that are other-focused, not self-improvement activities. A great antidote, but frankly, it can seem overwhelming when I am just trying to finish the end of the year well.

However, I am fortunate enough to work for the Anglican Relief and Development Fund. Our mission is to resource the local church. We don’t do the relief and development work; the local church does. In staff conversations, we continually remind ourselves that the work we support is not about us! 

And I am not unique. Members of Church of the Cross are housing refugees, caring for foster children, visiting the incarcerated, and providing medical care to the less than privileged! All without drawing notice to themselves. Others are supporting these “fasts” with prayer and financial support. So whether you know it or not, you are already offering this fast to God. 

Meanwhile, in Psalm 77, the Psalmist laments, “I think of the good old days, long since ended, when my nights were filled with joyful songs. I search my soul and ponder the difference now. Has the Lord rejected me forever? Will he never again be kind to me?” 

Fortunately, the Psalmist goes on to say, “But then I recall all you have done, O Lord; I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago. They are constantly in my thoughts. I cannot stop thinking about your mighty works.” 

Remembering how the Lord has been faithful in the past is the Psalmist’s response. Recalling how God has delivered us in the past is a sure-fire way of clearly seeing how deeply God knows (recognizes) us!  Collectively we do this each Sunday, as we walk through Advent together and retell the stories of Jesus and God’s faithfulness across the millennia.

I find it interesting that both of these “remedies” exist in our secular world. Listing out gratitudes is something non-Christians are trumpeting, with “Gratitude Journals” and podcasts calling us to remember what we are thankful for. Service opportunities are everywhere, even offered by (secular) companies for employees.

But as followers of Jesus, we know the source of this wisdom and can claim it as such. So in this season when the shop windows tell me what I deserve and what will get me noticed and I covet the things in the next shopper’s cart (or diner’s plate), I remember Isaiah’s promised blessings for those who fast for God.

Then your light will shine out from the darkness,

    and the darkness around you will be as bright as noon.

The Lord will guide you continually,

    giving you water when you are dry

    and restoring your strength.

You will be like a well-watered garden,

    like an ever-flowing spring.

Christine Jones lives in Back Bay and is the Deputy Director of The Anglican Relief and Development Fund. Christine and her husband, Andrew, host the Back Bay neighborhood group and enjoy sharing their home on Newbury Street with others.


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