December 15

 Philippians 4:4-7

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 

Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 

And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.


This is certainly one of the more reassuring and encouraging passages in the Bible. Even though Paul is struggling, he has joy in God because of his faith in Christ. This joy can endure changing earthly circumstances.

I’m especially moved by his plea for more gentleness. It seems like the world can be a pretty harsh, impatient, and violent place, and I wish we could treat one another with more gentleness, respect, and understanding.

And he lets us know whom we should consult if we have struggles. Don’t worry yourself to death... pray! Everything in life that bothers you or distracts you is important to God.

Paul tells us that the result of giving our worries to God is that God’s peace, which is more wonderful than we can imagine, will protect our hearts and minds. While we are still vulnerable, we are also assured of God’s concern and protection.

Lord, help us to be less anxious and bring our concerns to you, and may your peace rule in our hearts and minds. Amen.

John Weiss

December 14

Isaiah 12:2-6

Surely God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid, for the Lord God is my strength and my might; he has become my salvation. With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.

And you will say in that day: Give thanks to the Lord, call on his name; make known his deeds among the nations; proclaim that his name is exalted. Sing praises to the Lord, for he has done gloriously; let this be known in all the earth. Shout aloud and sing for joy, O royal Zion, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.

THANK YOU, GOD. 

The other day when I happily tried to rescue my still blooming flowers on the porch from the first frosty night, a neighbor walked by and briefly waived. I had not seen him recently, so I shouted, “Hi, Good Morning, Good Morning! Isn’t this a beautiful fall day to take a walk or work on the porch.” He came a few steps closer. With ice-cold eyes, he said. “What is good about this morning? Or what is beautiful about any of our days? In case you have forgotten, let me remind you that millions of people have died from a certain virus and continue to do so. In every continent, people are starving. There are wars and terrorism in every corner of the world. Injustice and brutality exist everywhere, and climate change endangers us all. Where, Reverend Barb, is your God in all of this?” He turned and walked away but over his shoulder he said, “Please spare me quotations from the Bible or lines from your favorite prophets. Isaiah did not live in our decade.”

I was stunned by his words and also heartbroken: what he said revealed arrogance and anger but also deeply hidden despair, lostness and pain. I honored his wish to not say anything but inside me, I talked with him all day long. Yes, the pandemic has been horrible, but by Grace we have vaccines for all age groups, children included, and helpful medications are on their way. Thank You, God! Yes, there is world-wide hunger, but churches and community agencies have opened soup kitchens and feeding stations. And international efforts to stop starvation are, by Grace, growing stronger! With shame and pain, I have to admit that racism, injustice and inequality are still enormously widespread, but at least these issues are being discussed in earnest and so is climate change. Thank You, God!

Here is another comment I would have liked to have shared on that day. If anyone on earth knows about misery, it is the Jewish people. From the beginning of their earthly walk, they were homeless, landless, powerless, despised and rejected by all. The Egyptians forced them into slavery and the Babylonians took them into exile. Generations lived in the wilderness, not knowing what the next day would bring. Nowhere did they find welcome signs, only border walls and patrols. During the reign of David, they got a brief time of quiet. But then came the Greeks and the Romans, and only a hundred years after the birth of Jesus, the little nation of Judah disappeared. The Temple in Jerusalem had been destroyed and, once again, they became Migrants, homeless, landless, powerless and despised by all. And yet, my friends, in spite of their horrible history, the people of Israel continued to sing praises to God and proclaim the Lord as the only Savior of all. They have left us beautiful visions of comfort, of hope and of faith in everlasting goodness and mercy. 

I have a friend who every evening makes a list of what could have gone wrong but went right. Then she says, Thank You, God! She tells me that she learned it from the Jewish People. So then, my brothers and sisters, let us be good learners as well. Despite the pandemic, let us proclaim God as our Savior. When the earth under our feet crumbles, let God’s hand steady us. When we feel attacked from all quarters, let us proclaim God as our Healer and Protector. In the darkness of the night, let us look for tiny glimpses of light. And when one tiny, little flower manages to bloom in the wilderness, let us celebrate. Let us hold on to believing in goodness and mercy. Above all else, let us call God our Creator, Redeemer, Healer, Sustainer and, forevermore, the world’s Savior. Hallelujah and Amen!

The Rev. Barbara C. Muntzel

December 13

 Zephaniah 3:14-20

Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel!
   Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem!
The Lord has taken away the judgments against you,
   he has turned away your enemies.
The king of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst;
   you shall fear disaster no more.
On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:
   Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands grow weak.
The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a warrior who gives victory;
   he will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love;
   he will exult over you with loud singing as on a day of festival.
I will remove disaster from you, so that you will not bear reproach for it.
I will deal with all your oppressors at that time.
   And I will save the lame and gather the outcast,
   and I will change their shame into praise and renown in all the earth.
At that time I will bring you home, at the time when I gather you;
   for I will make you renowned and praised among all the peoples of the earth,
   when I restore your fortunes before your eyes, says the Lord.

Advent and the Christmas season are a time for music and singing.  Each year we are greeted with more celebrity Christmas albums.  Before the pandemic our schedules were filled with holiday concerts.  The stores and restaurants are also playing the music of the season. And often, we find ourselves humming a carol. 

The music of this season mirrors an ancient longing deep in the heart of humanity.  It is not nostalgia for days past, no!  It is more profound.  It is a longing for home.  Home, where we experience the security to be the creatures God created.  Home, where we experience comfort and the wounds of life are healed.  Home, where we are held in the arms of God and we know we are loved. 

This is a radical vision of hope in world where violence, injustice, racism, hatred, hunger, and homelessness are the norm.  Raising our voices in song of the One to come is an audacious act of resistance to the false deities that our world worships. The message of Zephaniah is to “sing aloud” of the One who came and is yet to come; to proclaim the good news of the Messiah in a world of phony saviors.  Sing aloud! 

The Rev. Dr. Brent Eelman

sent in from northern Colorado

December 12

Luke 3:15-18

As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.


Luke, the Gospel writer, calls this word
that John the Baptist preached "good news."
    So, with many exhortations,
    he preached good news to the people.

Yet, when I read his words, Lord,
at least as Luke records them here,
calling the people a "brood of vipers,"
threatening them with wrath and fire to come,
the news does not sound "good" to me.

Is it right to frighten people, God,
to stampede them to your mercy like a herd
of frightened cattle? So many preachers,
down through the centuries, have used this same technique,
have portrayed their congregations dangling by
a spider thread over the flames of hell.
So many persons seem to have embraced the faith
in order to evade eternal punishment,
rather than to enter joyful into life abundant.

I question this, Father. How can one choose
to live a selfless life for selfish reasons?
How can I freely love a God who threatens to destroy me
and all that I hold dear? What is the proper role
of fear in the gospel of your grace, Lord God?

Sin is a fearful thing.
Evil is no childish fairy tale,
but a real-life horror story, as the news headlines
make clear every day. this evil may seem far beyond
my own small failings and omissions,
yet the roots are here within. I know them
in myself, when I am honest with myself.
Could it follow therefore that,
before I hear the good news of your grace,
I have to face the bad news of my failures,
with all their fearful consequences?
Might it be that fear, not fear of hell so much
as fear of hell on earth I am creating here and now,
might this fear be the blade that opens my life,
prepares it for your gospel? Is so, then may this day
be fearful, and thus open to your grace. Amen.


J. Barrie Shepherd

A Child Is Born: Meditations for Advent and Christmas 

Westminster Press, 1988

December 11

Luke 3:10-14

And the crowds asked John the Baptist, “What then should we do?” In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”

The crowds asked John the Baptist, “What then should we do?” John was preparing the world for Jesus’ ministry, preaching of repentance and paving the way for followers of Christian doctrine. John’s answer seems easy, but truly was not. Share what you have with others. If you have enough food, give the rest to those who are in need of a meal. The tax collectors were told, “Don’t take more than you are required to.” In other words, don’t make yourselves rich by stealing from others. This passage always reminds me of the hymn “They’ll Know We Are Christians”. This very familiar hymn states that we will be known by the love that we show others through unity and sharing the Word of God.  

We have all been the recipient of God’s love, sometimes at the most needed moments. We recently said goodbye to our much-loved Shih Tzu, Gracie. She was our first baby, and we were devastated. As we sat in our car afterward, crying like babies, there was a knock on my window. A woman who had been parked next to us handed me a tiny square pocket quilt and accompanying card. That small act of love made us immediately aware of God’s presence with us. She reminded us that we were not alone, and that God was now taking care of our sweet girl. 

That woman identified herself as a Christian by her act of love. She was God’s presence in the world right where and when it was needed. May we all be known as Christians by our love. 

Tabbi Miller-Scandle 

December 10

 Luke 3:7-9

John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”

My favorite Advent greeting card bore the message: Happy Advent, You Brood of Vipers. Gleefully sent to a select group of clergy friends, it was a reminder that the coming of Christ has less to do with tinsel, holly, and ribbons - and a whole lot more with purging our souls of sin, waste, and distraction.

John the Baptist dressed in the garments of Israel's prophets. He belted out a message of repentance. We can romanticize his invitation to return to God, yet the painful truth is that none of us can come "just as I am." We can only return if we cast off all that is unworthy of God's glory. We will be welcomed only if there is evidence that the grace of the coming Christ has begun to transform us. 

John's prophetic message slices away the presumptions and privileges that we accumulate. Do you think your family name will win over a holy God? Forget about it. Believe your list of successful accomplishments is a free pass into God's banquet hall? Nope. Do you assume your favorite pew will prepare you a place at the Table of God? Sorry, but something more is necessary. 

Beware of an easy Advent. The trip home is demanding. Excess baggage must be left behind. Well-hidden arrogance will be exposed...and purified. This, too, is the work of God.

Holy One, purge me of sin. Amen. 

Rev. Bill Carter

December 9

Luke 3:1-6

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler[b] of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler[ of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways made smooth;
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’”


Among the four Gospel writers, Luke is the one whose favorite class in college was world history. He works diligently to get all the names of the rulers down right. In this passage he takes us on a zoom-in, like Google earth: starting with Rome, narrowing to Judea, then to Jerusalem where Caiaphas is the high priest in the Temple. These governing authorities are real, and what they do has force and consequence. Consider, for instance, what we discover later about Pilate, or Caiaphas, who will press to have an innocent man killed to “keep the peace.”

Into the middle of all this comes the word of God, to John, out in the wilderness. It may seem like a remote world, and remote word, which has little bearing on what is really happening in bustling cities like Jerusalem, where the powerful play. Yet John is a prophet who does not speak for himself. Indeed, he fits within a long tradition; he is a prophet whose message has been foreseen by other prophets. John, and Isaiah before him, are tapped into a much bigger reality which, as we zoom out to have a look, does not keep separate from, but mingles with what St. Augustine calls the “earthly city,” where people like Tiberius or Pilate or Joe Biden make their moves.

The mingling creates stories, some of them shocking, like the one about how John’s head later ends up on a platter. But John and Isaiah know that the true and ultimate ruler of the universe will not be deterred in his purpose, which is to bring peace to all. This Is not the peace of Rome, nor is it administered by the likes of Caiaphas. It is rather true peace, the kind we catch a glimpse of as we proceed prayerfully through Advent: the peace that comes when “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

King of kings, Lord of lords, in troubled times we long for your peace. Guide our attention to those places where your word has entered, and continues to enter, our world. When the peace it brings seems small and fleeting, remind us that it is your peace, and that you have promised to bring it to fullness and extend it to all. Amen.

Charlie Pinches