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Morning Devotion for the Season of Advent

December 9, 2022

Invitatory

In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Amen.

Reading: Isaiah 7:10-14

Again the Lord spoke to Ahaz, saying, “Ask a sign of the Lord your God; let it be deep as Sheol or high as heaven.”  But Ahaz said, “I will not ask, and I will not put the Lord to the test.”  Then Isaiah said, “Hear then, O house of David! Is it too little for you to weary mortals that you weary my God also?  Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel.

Meditation – Peter Vanderveen

It’s one thing to forget about God. This is easy. And it’s completely natural to us.

We forget about most people most of the time. We live our lives; they live theirs. We interact from time to time. And often we value these interactions immensely, however regularly or sporadically they may occur. Our deepest friendships may be with people who we rarely see – maybe not for years. Yet when we reconnect, it can be as if there were never any absence from one another at all. All the time spent elsewhere, and all the attention given to other things, and all the energy devoted to pursuing sundry matters seems not to have quite the same importance that it did while we were so busy. Sometimes we realize, then, not what but who is most true to us; a recognition that, when we see ourselves in the face of someone else, makes us feel not wanting but whole. There’s a beauty in this that’s beyond words.

And if this is possible among friends, then why not also with God?

It’s quite a different thing, however, to forget who God is. That’s an act of indifference. Worse, it can be willful denial.

In the encounter between God and King Ahaz, Ahaz’s response was polite (it seems), but it was also completely dismissive. This might not have been offensive if God’s initial invitation had been mundane or banal, or if it had concerned something inconsequential. But God had been explicit; God urged Ahaz to ask for something that only God could do, so that God could be God for him. (Put this in the context of a friend who wants to give again whatever it was that made your friendship so appreciated and enduring). It was quite an offer. It was also one that Ahaz refused; we don’t know why. But his refusal was perfunctory. In essence, it was Ahaz’s declaration that he didn’t want to get involved in anything at that level; he didn’t want to be troubled by having to think and respond in dimensions appropriate to God. Whatever conditions he faced, he preferred dealing with them apart from God and in a manner more in line with his own skills and strengths. He said he’d rather go it alone.

We often choose the same ourselves. We’d rather operate by our own lights and find our own way and keep to our own very local and very limited perspectives. Asking God in — conscious of the immensity that God brings – is just too much of an imposition.

God’s subsequent response to Ahaz’s rebuff is more than telling. It’s profoundly revealing. Rather than letting his weariness with Ahaz take its toll (rightfully, we might add), God concedes to fit himself into Ahaz’s smallness; he bears with us. God bears with us by indicating that he can be present in our terms, not deep as Sheol or high as heaven but in the commonness of a birth that has no corresponding extravagance. God does not forget who we are.

The Lord's Prayer

Our Father, who art in heaven,

    hallowed be thy Name,

    thy kingdom come,

    thy will be done,

        on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

    as we forgive those

        who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

    but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom,

    and the power, and the glory

   for ever and ever. Amen.