Advent 2024 Reflection

A few weeks ago I was asked to write an Advent reflection for my seminary, Wycliffe College in Toronto. As is not uncommon for me, I initially went way over the word-limit! Since it has been a while since I have managed to post on my blog due to the extent of my busyness lately, I thought that it might be nice to post the initial, full version of the reflection here, especially since it dwells a little on my journey of spiritual/theological formation both inside and outside of the charismatic movement. I have just finished writing a full blog post specifically for this blog and will post it here once my Vineyard Canada theology friends have had a chance to look at it and give me some feedback. Thanks to everyone for your patience with my lack of posting lately!

Here is the Advent reflection, I hope you find it edifying both spiritually and theologically as we journey towards Christmas Day. Feel free to let me know your thoughts/perspective in the comments here or on social media:

My ecclesial home is the charismatic/Pentecostal tradition. Some of the key emphases of this Christian tradition are joy, expressive sung worship and divine presence. If you have ever braved a charismatic worship service before, you may know what I am talking about! Heartfelt songs of praise sung loudly with worshipful abandon, open expressions of joy and gladness, a keen sense of God's immediacy and a very real expectation that he will act in the lives of his people. It is no surprise, then, that when I was invited to contribute an advent reflection for Wycliffe this year, I sprung at the third Sunday of Advent, the Sunday of joy. Even less surprising is that, of the readings available to me for this Sunday, my eyes soon landed on Zephaniah 3:14-20. This is a favourite biblical text among charismatics and Pentecostals alike, oftentimes because of the relationally intimate language with which it describes God's interaction with his people in verse 17b "he will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love" (NRSV). Also notice the pertinent themes in this biblical text: God's presence amongst his people producing joy and occasioning loud singing!

            Despite my familiarity with this text from my years worshipping in charismatic churches, my time at Wycliffe during both my masters and now my doctoral work has taken biblical texts such as this and elevated them to new heights, as I observe the many-sided diamond that is holy scripture from a more liturgical and contextual angle. Before my formal theological training, I was unaware of the overarching narrative of the Hebrew bible of which Zephaniah is but one part. I therefore could not see that the post-exilic presence of YHWH in Jerusalem as the divine king (verse 15b) and as the divine warrior who brings peace (verse 17) stands in stark contrast to the divine absence begun in Ezekiel 10:18 when the divine glory exited the temple in Jerusalem in preparation for the coming Babylonian invasion.

            Prior to my time at Wycliffe, I had also never been fully immersed in the spiritually formative ebbs and flows of the Christian liturgical calendar. In the season of Advent, Christians all over the world intentionally enter into a posture of spiritual waiting and anticipation, mirroring expectant figures such as Simeon (Luke 2:25-32), Anna (Luke 2:36-28), and Elizabeth and Zechariah (Luke 1:57-80), who lived in perpetual hope of their long-awaited Messiah. The season of Advent also invites us alive today to look not only backwards to Christ's first advent, but also forwards, to his final, consummatory advent. Zephaniah 3:14-20 helps us in this endeavour by illustrating a common biblical theme: In the Jewish and Christian scriptures divine absence, whether as a result of judgement against sin or God simply hiding his face according to the mysteries of his providence, brings about loss, suffering, pain and fear. In contrast, divine presence brings joy, safety, honour and peace. There are many instances in the scriptures where divine absence eventually gives way to divine presence, ultimately because of God's commitment to his own name, his own goodness and mercy. Consider, for example, the four hundred years of slavery in Egypt giving way to Moses the deliverer, or our Messiah’s cry of desolation on the cross, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?”, giving way to his triumphant resurrection victory over sin, death and Satan.

            As we continue our advent journey, I invite you to simply remember that, no matter the circumstances in which you find yourself, ultimately, for God's people, "Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning" (Psalm 30:5, NRSV).

Blessings,

David Ross