Blog Post

Another Advent

Rev. Brenna • Dec 14, 2017

 Each year, as I wait through the season of Advent, I often pause to reflect on how things have changed from the year before. Advent is a holy time of waiting and of naming our deepest longings for ourselves and the world as we look for God to break into the world again, but some Advents haven’t felt so holy. I can remember years, especially during university and seminary when I didn’t even have a chance to reflect on the season, times when I was so busy writing papers and studying for exams that I barely knew Christmas was on the horizon. Other Advents have been times of transition. Last year, for instance, was a spiritually strange time as I was in-between church ministry positions. I felt like an Advent drifter – attending services at various places, even at my family’s church in New Jersey, but not feeling quite at home anywhere. My first Advent and Christmas in Saskatchewan in 2011 was also a difficult time. It was my first time leading these holy services and I felt very overwhelmed. I was also desperately homesick despite the warmth and love I received from my church folks.  This Advent, however, has been one of profound joy – a time of feeling really settled in my soul and able to enjoy and reflect on the meaning of the season. I am grateful to feel at home here at Erindale United, and as I come close to the one year mark of serving this congregation, I’m glad to feel like we are really worshipping through this season as a community. Personally, I am also celebrating my first Christmas as a married person, and have been thankful for the on-going love and support of a tremendous life partner.  Perhaps, though, my sense of personal joy and contentment has allowed me to be more awake to the pain and suffering in the world this Advent season. The scriptures that call on God to tear open the heavens and come down, or John the Baptist calling out for people to transform their lives have never felt more relevant to our time. The world seems so divided and so full of injustice. Whether it’s ongoing war in Syria, the #metoo movement, which has highlighted systemic sexual assault in North America, or natural disasters like hurricanes and wild fires, it feels like a time when we might sing “O come, O come, Emmanuel” a bit more urgently. Whereas in other years I might have been distracted by personal goings-on, this year I have felt a tremendous tension between my own personal joy and what is going on in the world.  The commercial version of Christmas would tell us that we should never feel down this time of year. After all, the Christmas movies and ads try to sell us miracles and cheer. But really, for those of us who seek to follow Jesus, we are called to hold these two opposing ideas together – it is a time for rejoicing, a time for praising the God with whom nothing will be impossible, but it is also a time to be aware of why God had to come down to us in the first place, a time to sit with the brokenness and suffering of the world.  I wonder, as I write, what kind of Advent this has been for you. I hope whether you are rejoicing or lamenting or both that you are aware of the Holy Spirit, and are seeing signs of God’s longing to be with humanity. For as Wendell Berry writes, “It gets darker, and darker, and darker, and then Jesus is born.” And this is truly the Good News – whether we are ready or not, whether we are awake or not, Jesus will be born for us. 

 Each year, as I wait through the season of Advent, I often pause to reflect on how things have changed from the year before. Advent is a holy time of waiting and of naming our deepest longings for ourselves and the world as we look for God to break into the world again, but some Advents haven’t felt so holy.

I can remember years, especially during university and seminary when I didn’t even have a chance to reflect on the season, times when I was so busy writing papers and studying for exams that I barely knew Christmas was on the horizon. Other Advents have been times of transition. Last year, for instance, was a spiritually strange time as I was in-between church ministry positions. I felt like an Advent drifter – attending services at various places, even at my family’s church in New Jersey, but not feeling quite at home anywhere. My first Advent and Christmas in Saskatchewan in 2011 was also a difficult time. It was my first time leading these holy services and I felt very overwhelmed. I was also desperately homesick despite the warmth and love I received from my church folks.

 This Advent, however, has been one of profound joy – a time of feeling really settled in my soul and able to enjoy and reflect on the meaning of the season. I am grateful to feel at home here at Erindale United, and as I come close to the one year mark of serving this congregation, I’m glad to feel like we are really worshipping through this season as a community. Personally, I am also celebrating my first Christmas as a married person, and have been thankful for the on-going love and support of a tremendous life partner.

 Perhaps, though, my sense of personal joy and contentment has allowed me to be more awake to the pain and suffering in the world this Advent season. The scriptures that call on God to tear open the heavens and come down, or John the Baptist calling out for people to transform their lives have never felt more relevant to our time. The world seems so divided and so full of injustice. Whether it’s ongoing war in Syria, the #metoo movement, which has highlighted systemic sexual assault in North America, or natural disasters like hurricanes and wild fires, it feels like a time when we might sing “O come, O come, Emmanuel” a bit more urgently. Whereas in other years I might have been distracted by personal goings-on, this year I have felt a tremendous tension between my own personal joy and what is going on in the world.

 The commercial version of Christmas would tell us that we should never feel down this time of year. After all, the Christmas movies and ads try to sell us miracles and cheer. But really, for those of us who seek to follow Jesus, we are called to hold these two opposing ideas together – it is a time for rejoicing, a time for praising the God with whom nothing will be impossible, but it is also a time to be aware of why God had to come down to us in the first place, a time to sit with the brokenness and suffering of the world.

 I wonder, as I write, what kind of Advent this has been for you. I hope whether you are rejoicing or lamenting or both that you are aware of the Holy Spirit, and are seeing signs of God’s longing to be with humanity. For as Wendell Berry writes, “It gets darker, and darker, and darker, and then Jesus is born.” And this is truly the Good News – whether we are ready or not, whether we are awake or not, Jesus will be born for us. 

By Brenna Baker 30 Mar, 2020
Sunday, April 5 marks the beginning of Holy Week for Christians around the world. Yet, it will be a Holy Week unlike any we have experienced in our lifetimes. Still, while we won’t be waving palm branches on Sunday or singing, “Were you there” on Friday, the story has the power to comfort and challenge us – perhaps more than ever before. For these questions, I’ll be mostly reflecting on Matthew 21:1-11, but you may want to read past that to consider the holy week stories as a whole. Reading can be found here. 1. Matthew’s account of the parade and procession of palms emphasizes Jesus’ role as King. The crowds were imagining a very literal king who would overthrow Rome and sit on the throne of Israel as David had. The way they lay their branches and cloaks on the ground demonstrate this. But Jesus turns out to be a very different kind of ruler and leader. Who is Jesus for you? How has your image of Jesus the person changed or been challenged over time? 2. The disciples are asked by Jesus to do a risky thing, and something they don’t quite understand. They are asked to untie a donkey and colt, and to bring them to Jesus for the procession. If anyone asks what they’re doing, they’re to say, “The Lord needs them.” If I was one of those disciples, I would have been extremely uncomfortable with this request. What are the risky, uncomfortable things Jesus asks of us today? What gives us the courage to follow? 3. Richard Lischer offers a beautiful reflection on what Holy Week, and in particular, what Holy Saturday might mean for us in these Covid days. Read the article here . What are we waiting for this Holy Saturday? What do we hope will emerge from this time of isolation?
By Brenna Baker 24 Mar, 2020
Reading: Ezekiel 37:1-14 Can be read here. “Can these bones live?” Oh, Lord, you know. God asks Ezekiel if he believes the valley of bones before him can ever live and breathe again. Ezekiel is unsure. After seeing so much despair and destruction, and years of exile, he’s having a hard time finding hope for his people. “Oh, Lord, you know.” It might be a response many of us are returning to this week with our many questions. How long will we have to stay isolated? How many will die? How will this impact our families and communities? Will we be the same people once it’s all over? Oh, Lord, you know. Ezekiel is a long and complex book. For an entertaining and informative overview of it's context, you might want to watch this YouTube video. Reflection Questions 1. The bones, even stitched back together with flesh and sinews are not truly alive until God breathes life into them. What gives you that feeling of energy? How does God breathe new life into you? Perhaps exercise? Music? Travel? A new project? 2. Despite that last reflection question, this really is a passage about a whole people being brought to new life. The house of Israel will be restored by God. How do we need to be restored? As a church community? As a geographic community in the GTA? As humanity? How might Covid-19 change or impact this need for restoration? 3. Walter Wink writes of this text, “That is how history is made: by envisioning of new alternative possibilities and acting on them as if they were inevitable. That is how despair is overcome: by the declaration of unlikelihoods welling up from the center of reality, by prophesying a course of action Cod is conspiring to bring to pass.” How would we prophesy in these times of despair? What course of action is God conspiring to pass? Music Of course, none of us can read this passage without thinking of the “Dry Bones” song. Here’s a fun Fats Waller jazzy version to play as you reflect and pray this week. Quote above from "These Bones Shall Live" by Walter Wink. The Christian Century V ol. 111, Iss. 16, (May 11, 1994): 491.
By Brenna Baker 16 Mar, 2020
Read John 9:1-41 here. And read this article for a great overview of the text. Who can we blame? Whose fault is it? These are questions we may find ourselves asking in the days of the Covid-19 pandemic just as people asked in Jesus’ time. In John’s long story about a man born blind, healed by Jesus, the religious leaders and even Jesus disciples want to know who to blame – first for the man’s condition, and then for his healing. It can be hard for us as people to simply accept what is without judgment or blame. Yet, we learn in this text that Christ himself is about healing, not blame. He is about shedding light, and opening eyes to see, rather than adding to the chaos and confusion. Reflection Questions: Thinking of the current pandemic situation, where do you see blame being cast? The community here seems glad to dismiss their obligation to help the man by assuming his condition is due to sin. Are there times when we as a culture dismiss our obligation to love others because we believe they deserve their condition? The impoverished, addicted, mentally ill, etc? What about times in your personal life? When have you sought answers to a situation that was ultimately without a cause? How did you come to accept that reality? Can you think of a time in your life when you received much needed healing? Either physically, emotionally or spiritually? Or perhaps you need healing now. Take a moment to pray to God, thanking God for that time of healing and enlightenment or praying to experience healing. In this passage, Jesus makes one of his famous “I am” pronouncements. What does it mean to you that Jesus is the Light of the World? What should be our response to that identifier as his followers? Music: Here’s a fun, upbeat song to sing along to called “I am the Light of the World” – different than the one in our hymnals.
By Brenna Baker 16 Mar, 2020
Read John 9:1-41 here . And Read this article for a great overview of the text. Who can we blame? Whose fault is it? These are questions we may find ourselves asking in the days of the Covid-19 pandemic just as people asked in Jesus’ time. In John’s long story about a man born blind, healed by Jesus, the religious leaders and even Jesus disciples want to know who to blame – first for the man’s condition, and then for his healing. It can be hard for us as people to simply accept what is without judgment or blame. Yet, we learn in this text that Christ himself is about healing, not blame. He is about shedding light, and opening eyes to see, rather than adding to the chaos and confusion. Reflection Questions: Thinking of the current pandemic situation, where do you see blame being cast? The community here seems glad to dismiss their obligation to help the man by assuming his condition is due to sin. Are there times when we as a culture dismiss our obligation to love others because we believe they deserve their condition? The impoverished, addicted, mentally ill, etc? What about times in your personal life? When have you sought answers to a situation that was ultimately without a cause? How did you come to accept that reality? Can you think of a time in your life when you received much needed healing? Either physically, emotionally or spiritually? Or perhaps you need healing now. Take a moment to pray to God, thanking God for that time of healing and enlightenment or praying to experience healing. In this passage, Jesus makes one of his famous “I am” pronouncements. What does it mean to you that Jesus is the Light of the World? What should be our response to that identifier as his followers? Music: Here’s a fun, upbeat song to sing along to called “I am the Light of the World” (different than the one in our hymnals). Listen here .
By Brenna Baker 14 Aug, 2019
This Week Click here for the Bible text Our last text is the story of Zacchaeus. He is a bit of a unique character. Luke is the only gospel where his story pops up. For some context, Zacchaeus made his wealth as a tax collector, which meant that he taxed his own Jewish friends and neighbours, likely charging them additional fees, before sending the taxes on to Rome. As "Chief" tax collector, he might have been making money off of lesser tax collectors. To say he was unliked would be putting it mildly. He was seen as a traitor by his neighbours. Discussion Questions As with previous weeks, if you wish to leave a comment, you can answer these in any way you wish. 1. What stands out to you about this text? 2. This artwork is a bit unique. The artist, Garrity, says in the journal (Page 16) how it's inspired by her interactions with her middle school art students. Do you think that's a fair metaphor? How would you visually represent this story? 3. What is unraveling in this story? With whom do you identify? Zacchaeus? The grumbling townspeople? Jesus? The silent disciples who we assume are accompanying Jesus? What about the members of Zacchaeus' household? 4. What does this text say to you about who God is? About who we are? Are these helpful ideas to you? 5. There is an interesting translation problem in this text. Verse 8 is most commonly translated as "“Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” But, it could also be translated in the present tense like this, "Look I give my half of my possessions to the poor, Lord; and if I defraud anyone of anything, I pay back four times as much." How does this change the meaning? Do you see Zacchaeus as a man transformed and converted by Jesus? Or potentially a misunderstood, but righteous person, whose ostracized because of his community's bias? Further Reading Justin Tse offers a rich and fascinating reflection on this story from his perspective as a Chinese-American Catholic, and the challenges of the concept of being a "model minority". Read more here . Next Week This is our final text in the Unraveled series. I hope it has helped you to see some familiar stories in a new way, and learn some new ones, while providing some touchstones for those times when our lives unravel. We will be talking about the second half of the texts in a study session on Tuesday, the 20th from 7-8:30pm in the McGill Room. Hope to see you then.
By Brenna Baker 07 Aug, 2019
A discussion on wisdom in Job 28:12-28
By Brenna Baker 24 Jul, 2019
This Week Click here for the Bible text Discussion Questions As with last week, if you wish to leave a comment, you can answer these in any way you wish. 1. What surprises you about this story? 2. As you look at the artwork above and read the artist's statement on page 24 in your journal, what stands out to you? 3. What is unraveling in this story? What emotions come up for you in reading it and imagining the scene? 4. I like the third "Reflect" question in the journal: Throughout your life, what identities, beliefs, or practices have you shed? How has unraveling from former patterns and identities helped you to grow or become more whole? 5. Who are the real life Ananiases? Have you known people (maybe famous people, maybe people you know personally) who have been able to offer grace and healing to enemies? Further Reading This week's further reading is actually viewing. Click here to watch a Ted Talk from Christian Picciolini on his conversion from a white supremacist to an author and speaker who counters racism and hate. Next Week Next week and on August 11, we're diving into some Job and considering the idea of faithful wisdom.
By Brenna Baker 24 Jul, 2019
Threads from last week Rizpah's story was certainly a challenging one. Arlene raised that there is no easy way out of grief. That theme will pop up with the Job reading as well. Being faithful followers of Christ and obedient to God does not prevent suffering from entering our lives. The story for this week, though, invites us to consider whether and how we expect God to show up in the unraveling of our lives. This Week Click here for the Bible text Questions As with last week, if you wish to leave a comment, you can answer these in any way you wish. 1. What surprises you about this story? 2. As you look at the artwork above and read the artist's statement on page 7 in your journal, what stands out to you? 3. What is unraveling in this story? What emotions come up for you in reading it and imagining the scene? 4. Traditionally, Peter's walking out on the water is celebrated as a risky act of faith. But notice that it starts with him testing Jesus as Satan and others do in the gospels. "If you are who you say you are, command me to come out on the water to you." What do you think? Is Peter being bold and faithful or foolhardy? 5. Jesus responds 3 times in this text to the crying out of the disciples. First, as the storm is threatening them, he shows up. Then, Peter asks him to invite him out onto the water, and he does. Then, as Peter cries out to be saved, Jesus reaches down to pull him out of the water. When have you been surprised by Jesus showing up in the storms of your life? 6. As a church, how might we respond to those who feel like the storms of life are overwhelming them? Further Reading Writer and minister, Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber, in her characteristic sarcasm and wit, offers a beautiful sermon on this story reminding us that it's not about what Peter or the others are doing, it's about what Jesus is doing. Read it here . Next Week For next Wednesday, while I'm on study leave and Mississagua Mennonite Fellowship leads worship, we'll look at the conversion of Saul to Paul text, which we read in worship in the spring.
By Brenna Baker 17 Jul, 2019
Threads from last week Reflecting on the comments from last week and our discussion last night at the face to face study time, I'm thinking about notions of control and release. At our meeting last night, we spoke briefly to what the plagues and Pharaoh's hard heart say about our control of the environment and its resources and how that is actually leading to less control in terms of climate change, disasters, etc. Might there be a way that unraveling is actually liberating? Secondly, I would note that these stories seem to be raising for us challenging notions of who God is. Is God a tough bully? A loving, grieving mother as we'll see today? A somewhat blunt, unfeeling visitor like the one that appeared to Sarah? All of these things? How do we make peace with these conflicting versions of God? A great thing for us to wrestle with! This Week Click here for the Bible text Questions As with last week, if you wish to leave a comment, you can answer these in any way you wish. 1. What surprises you about this story? 2. As you look at the artwork above and read the artist's statement on page 11 in your journal, what stands out to you? Note, in this case the full image is not in the journal. It is shown above. 3. What is unraveling in this story? What emotions come up for you in reading it and imagining the scene? 4.How does the grief of others make us feel? Why might that be the case? 6. Are there times when you have found God in grief? Either your own grieving or the grieving of others? Further Reading Alfred, Lord Tennyson wrote a poem entitled "Rizpah" that grapples with our Protestant notions of propriety, grief and salvation. The voice is not meant to be the Biblical Rizpah, but a more modern grieving mother. Click here to read. Next Week For next Wednesday, we'll be looking at “Peter Sinks in the Water" Matthew 14:22-33. This one might be more familiar to us than some of the others, which means the challenge is discovering something new.
By Brenna Baker 10 Jul, 2019
Threads from last week In some ways, I think the story from last week about Jesus healing the man with a "legion" of demons moves well into this one. Arlene wondered about our "community demons" and those things we try not to acknowledge. In this week's reading, Pharaoh's heart is hardened to the plight of the enslaved Israelites. When God turns the river into blood (the first of the ten plagues), Pharaoh literally turns around and walks back into his house - refusing to listen and to see. We wonder what God is up to in all this pain. This Week Click here for the Bible text Questions As with last week, if you wish to leave a comment, you can answer these in any way you wish. 1. What surprises you about this story? 2. As you look at the artwork above and read the artist's statement on page 20 in your journal, what stands out to you? What images would be important to you if you were creating art based on this story? 3. What is unraveling in this story? What emotions come up for you in reading it and imagining the scene? 4. Why do you think Pharaoh responds the way that he does? 5. Who might be the modern day Pharaoh's of our world? Are there times when we are like Pharaoh? 6. We can tend to have a hard time with a God who inflicts suffering on Creation. Yet, this story makes no bones about it - our choices have consequences. Pharaoh's unwillingness to acknowledge suffering brings more suffering both to his own people and the Israelites. What do you make of the plagues? Further Reading Older Testament Scholar Walter Brueggemann reflects on how Pharaoh and the Exodus narrative reflect the myth of scarcity rather than a "liturgy of abundance" that God envisions. Article here . Next Week For next Wednesday, we'll be looking at “Rizpah Mourns her Sons” 2 Samuel 3:7, 21:1-14, and for those who can make it, we'll see you at the in-person gathering on Tuesday, July 16 from 7-8:30.
Show More
Share by: