Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12
I am anticipating a warm reception when I go to Pittsburgh next week, from the people, not the weather. I am sure “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas” in Pittsburgh, PA unlike sunny and seventy Fort Worth, TX. Having spent the first half of my life in the north the “looking like Christmas” anticipates the day in a way that wearing shorts in December does not. Don’t get me wrong, I’d prefer to be surprised by Christmas a hundred times over than endure a season of “let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.” If anything I think in retirement I will have to move farther south to find a place where the average temperature will keep pace with my advancing years. The texts for Advent 2a are beginning to look a lot like the future as they anticipate the change that will take place when the One who was, and is, returns. Isaiah sees the whole creation transformed where even predators do not hurt or destroy on God’s holy mountain. David hopes and prays that Solomon will be a better king and reign over a time of peace and prosperity for God’s people that will endure as long as the sun and moon. Paul encourages Jew and Gentile to live the future by praising with one voice the Root of Jesse in whom the whole world will hope. And finally John crying out in the wilderness calls for fruit that befits repentance so that human hearts not worthy might be made ready for the One who baptizes with fire and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.
The photo and the season brought this 19th century piece to mind.
ReplyDeleteIn the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,
Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.
Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air,
But only His mother1
In her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.
What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.
I love that hymn! One of my all time favorites.
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