Updated March, 2025
It was Heidi's fourth birthday, and we had planned to go on a family outing to Playland in Rye, New York. As we sardined ourselves into the "birthday mobile," we were in a festive mood, ready for a day of fun and celebration. But just as we were about to pull out of the driveway the telephone started its ominous j anglings. The kids were armed with ready wisdom, "They'll call back— c'mon, Dad." But Dad didn't listen; the Calvinist tug was too intense. And, sure enough, on the other end of that phone was one of those parochial emergencies that could not be sidestepped; the birthday plans had to be put "on hold." Amid a vale of tears, I forsook and fled!
When I returned home several hours later, I took Heidi out alone to try to make faltering atonement. Heidi was crestfallen, her dreams shattered. The church had again become her enemy, and we sat amid the rubble of a ruined fourth birthday. Nothing I said seemed to convince her of the inherent rightness of my decision. I had been "weighed in the balances and found wanting."
I tried to redeem the situation. "Heidi," I said, "I'm sorry that I messed up your birthday plans, but let's go tomorrow. I won't let anything interfere, and we can even go to Ho-Jo's for dinner after we leave Playland." I eagerly watched her face, hoping for the smiles to return.
"What if someone calls tomorrow?" she asked quietly.
"No matter what, Heidi, tomorrow is yours. I promise. This time nothing will stand in our way."
The corners of Heidi's mouth began to inch upwards, "You promise, Dad?" "I promise, Heidi." Reconciliation—at last! The storm cloud hanging over Heidi dissipated, her mischievous giggle returned, and she began romping about, anticipating the fun that awaited her on the next day.
As I was rethinking that day later, it occurred to me that together Heidi and I had sneaked up on what for me is the secret of Advent. Heidi's trust was anchored to the father's promise. By trusting that Dad would make good on his promise, her hopes began to rise again. The anticipation of tomorrow's adventure burst in on today's calamity and transformed both Heidi and the situation.
Heidi was transformed by living in the light of the word of promise. We can be too. Already today we are living in the light of what will be tomorrow. We can count on it, because "Dad" said so! Advent permits us to live as though our hoping has become having.
The Scripture lessons for Advent and Christmas, 1992, invite us to sit where Isaiah sat. In living with Isaiah, we will learn that he of all the prophets had the ability to permit his today to be formed and informed by his unwavering trust that God keeps his Word and honors his promise.
Isaiah was an ambassador of the Most High with impeccable credentials. Isaiah was streetwise, to be sure, but he was also palace-wise. He could walk with kings and paupers; he could pray with priests and prophets. Isaiah was urban and urbane, rendering his insights with both moral authority and theological precision.
This man of God managed to blend the zeal of a wilderness prophet and the flair of the polished priest with the flash of the ruling class. Out of the crucible of the times—years in which tiny Judah was being ping-ponged about between the muscular nations of Syria and Assyria—Isaiah peered through the mists of menacing foes, corrupt politicians, frilly liturgies, flagging armies, and greedy merchants, and was certain that he spotted the approach of God's tomorrow through a series of pregnant images.
These images are multicolored in their style and multidimensional in their meaning. They are images that first call the prophet to recall days gone by and then to anticipate the day yet to come. Beginning with the mountain, and continuing with a branch, a desert, a sign, a child, and the eagle, the prophet grants us glimpses of tomorrow.
These images are based on the Scripture readings appointed in the Common Lectionary for Year A (for the four Sundays of Advent, Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, and the First Sunday of Christmastide). The images in combination with the suggestions regarding bulletins and banners, worship features, children's moments, and musical offerings are supplied to you with the wish that the images of Advent and Christmas may become clearer for each of you, and that your Advent hoping may become your Christmas having.
Soli Gloria Deo
HOW–TO
We've heard several positive comments about last years' Advent banners and bulletin cover ideas. It's satisfying to hear that people are using these ideas and adapting them to their particular worship situation.
Along with the positive comments came heroic stories of late-night Velcro hunts (where can you find 30 yards of the stuff at 2 A.M.?) and the amazing work of lay-engineers who actually figured out how to safely hang the banners each week. For those folks, this years' design is simpler to construct and hang—and just as effective.
The Banners
The banners illustrated on the following pages are meant to be added to one another throughout advent. The last two—one for Christmas Eve/Day and the other for the Sunday following Christmas—are to be hung separately, either alongside or in place of the Advent banners.
To make hanging easy, attach wide loops to the top and bottom of each banner. When you are ready to hang the next banner, simply insert a wooden dowel through the interlocking loops.
Bulletin Covers
Bulletin covers illustrated with the banner art are also supplied, and are included in the resource section below.
Banners designed from ideas supplied by Janet and Paul Sisko.
First Sunday of Advent: The Mountain
Old Testament: Isaiah 2:1–5
Psalter: Psalm 122
Epistle: Romans 13:11–14
Gospel: Matthew 24:36–44
The image of the mountain towered in Judah's collective memory. Isaiah and his compatriots vividly recalled a time when God was as close as breathing. God had summoned the people to rendezvous at the holy mountain of Sinai, and there Almighty God had come down and met with the people. Those were the days—days when God was so real, the issues were so clear, the convictions and commitments so sincere! It's like us looking back on the year we made confession of faith; or the time God spared the life of someone close to us; or the time we got a second chance and were bathed in gratitude. Those are the moments that help us interpret all other moments in the journey.
It was in Israel's adolescence that God seemed so real and so close. God came near and gave the gracious Law and the Torah. God created a holy community bound by the covenant and sealed in the "Ten Words" from Sinai's heights. Others might grasp and grope to seek the light, but Israel's God had drawn near and shined the flashlight of the Law from Mount Sinai. Because of these events, the mountain was forever fixed in Israel's memory as the moment of meaning, the moment of beginning.
Isaiah meditated on the image of the mountain and realized that Sinai's mountain was intimately related to Mount Zion, on which the Jerusalem temple stood. By Isaiah's time, Israel's youth had been exchanged for adulthood, and memories of God's unique love affair with the people were blurry. Sinai's certainties had been replaced by Zion's ambiguities. Ritual had begun to replace righteousness, and holiness was defined by rites of purification, ramifications of diet, and regulation of behavior. The shell remained, but the soul was eclipsed.
Yet Isaiah was not ready to give up. As the prophet peered forward, he felt in his bones that the best days for Mount Zion and its temple were yet to come. Isaiah deeply believed that the mountain of God was desperately needed as a place of holy living (the Law); as a place of holy believing (2:3); as a place of universal shalom (2:4).
One day, or as Isaiah says it, "in the last days," the mountain of the Lord's house will be established. What was local will become universal, ("all nations will stream to it.") What was holy talk will become a holy walk ("he will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths.") What was only peace of heart and mind will now become a less violent world, with the possibility of global shalom. ("They will beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.")
The holy-mountain image teases the prophetic imagination of Isaiah as he stretches forward into tomorrow and concludes his oracle: "Come, O house of Jacob, let us walk in the light of the LORD" (Isaiah 2:5).
The imagery of the mountain continues beyond what the prophet could envision:
Now when he [Jesus] saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples [the church] came to him, and he began to teach them, saying "Blessed are the poor in spirit..."
—Matthew 5:1–3
What Isaiah could only stutter, Jesus of Nazareth would embody. The "sermon on the mount" was not as important as the preacher on the mount. The mount was now occupied not by another religion, another corpus of doctrine, or another guru, but by God's stand-in, Jesus the Jew. Isaiah could only vaguely promise, "in the days to come," but in Jesus the day dawned.
Suggested Anthems
"Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus," arr. Marie Pooler, unison plus 2-part, Enthens [Augsburg]
"Dona Nobis Pacem," R. Vaughan Williams [Oxford]
"O! for a Closer Walk with God," Foster [Schirmer]
"Prepare the Way Before Him," Burck [Concordia]
"The People that Walked in Darkness" (Bass Solo)/ "Their Sound Is Gone Out into All Lands," Handel [from Messiah (Schirmer)]
"Wake, Awake, for Night Is Flying," Tunder [Concordia]
"Walk in the Light of His Love," Wagner [Glory Sound]
(Note: Many other suggestions for congregational and choral music based on the Scripture lessons for this Sunday are included here).
For the Children
Prepare a road sign: TEMPLE MOUNTAIN—STRAIGHT AHEAD
Show the group the sign. Then invite the children to imagine that they are traveling with you on a highway toward a beautiful place called Temple Mountain. As you travel the highway, ask the students to picture Temple Mountain in their minds.
Explain that on Temple Mountain the air is free of pollution; the water is fresh and clean; the streets and roads are spotless, free of litter. You can walk the streets of Temple Mountain without being afraid. There are no guns there, no crime, no sadness.
Invite the children to help you describe this perfect place where everyone shows love. Would there be fights on the playground? Would people be cruel to animals or to each other? Would anyone go hungry? Would there be anyone with no home, with no one to care for them? Would police be necessary? Wonder together about what this place might be like.
Explain that in the passage for today the prophet Isaiah is looking forward to a time when the King of heaven—Jesus—will rule the earth. He will bring peace and happiness to people of all nations. And Temple Mountain will become the new home of all who love this wonderful King. Also explain that we can start traveling toward Temple Mountain right now. How? By obeying God and showing love to each other.
Second Sunday of Advent: The Branch
Old Testament: Isaiah 11:1–10
Psalter: Psalm 72:1–7, 18–19
Epistle: Romans 15:4–13
Gospel: Matthew 2:1–12
Two years ago a freak tornado whirled its way through Wyckoff, New Jersey. "This never happens here; this isn't Oklahoma," said the old-timers. Many of us shared that sentiment. What can you count on anymore when even weather patterns, that normally don't produce such destructive entities, prove unreliable?
Behind our house there grows a friendly, but somewhat unruly forest. Several of the more notable trees were felled during our infamous tornado. Gone were the budding trees and the tapestry of green, the light and shadows produced by the foliage. Remaining were naked and embarrassed stumps, pruned limbs and decapitated trunks.
When spring began to tease us, my dog Barney and I romped through the former jungle, playing hide-and-seek. As we walked, my eye fastened on a stump. The tornado had reduced a once imposing old tree to a colorless old stump, lacking height or depth.
However, as I drew a little nearer to investigate, I found the tree wasn't as dead as it appeared from a distance. Pushing their way through the residue of pruning and sawing were small budding shoots, laced with green leaves and stretching toward the sun. The stump still wasn't much to behold, but it held the seed of promise. And it reminded me of a passage from the prophet Isaiah: "A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit" (Isaiah 11:1).
Out of a burned-out nation, tired politics, and worn-out and unworkable systems, the prophet saw the possibility of some new beginnings. Judah was playing in the big leagues, and they were completely outclassed by their opposition. But the prophet foresaw promise for Judah's future. The winds of change were blowing through the neighborhood, even when Judah seemed most vulnerable to military conquest, political exploitation, and economic disintegration.
Isaiah surely remembered a tree in a primeval garden that offered the option of the knowledge of good and evil. He remembered the man and woman who plucked the luscious fruit and were exiled from the garden of God. God's people had to live with a stump instead of a full-grown fruit-producing tree. That is the legacy of those who reside "east of Eden."
But stumps grow shoots that begin to live again—out of deadness there springs life. Isaiah saw a stump of a country waiting for the signs of a new life. He remembered God's promise that a relative of King David would forever transform the nation's life. Isaiah remembered, and he pictured his hope for Judah's tomorrow in terms of a new, fresh, green, and vital shoot growing out of the weary roots of Judah's yesterdays:
The Spirit of the LORD will rest on him, the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of power, the Spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the LORD.
—Isaiah 11:2
This new shoot would be belted with righteousness and faithfulness (11:5) and would inaugurate a return to the old harmonies vaguely recalled, but frequently forgotten from Eden: those days, when "The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will He down with the goat…They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea" (Isaiah 11:6, 9).
Isaiah looked forward to the moment when the one who was of the "stump of Jesse" and the house of David would appear:
He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
—Isaiah 53:2
When full grown, this young and tender plant would assemble his pupils and remind them, "Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me" (John 15:4).
The whole story begins in the garden of God and surges toward its conclusion in the city of God where we read:
I, Jesus, have sent my angel to give you this testimony for the churches, lam the Root and the Offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star.
—Revelation 22:16
Suggested Anthems
"A Spotless Rose," Howells [Galaxy]
"Behold a Star from Jacob Shining," Mendelssohn [from Chrisius (Schirmer)]
"Blessed, Blessed Is He Who Cometh" Saint-Saens (duet) [Schirmer]
"Cantique de Jean Racine," Faure [Broude Bros.]
"The King Shall Come When Morning Dawns," Lenel [Concordia]
"The Rose and the Lily" Rowley [Novello]
"There Shall a Star from Jacob," Mendelssohn [Fischer]
"Unto this Rose," Sateren [Ditson]
"What Is this Lovely Fragrance," Alwes [Roger Dean Publishing]
(Note: Many other suggestions for congregational and choral music based on the Scripture lessons for this Sunday are included here).
For the Children
Preparation: Prepare a Jesse tree. I suggest using a tree branch secured with plaster of paris in a large coffee can. The branch can remain in the sanctuary or church school throughout the Advent season. Also prepare a few symbols the children can hang on the tree: David (crown), Adam and Eve (snake around apple), Noah (rainbow or ark), Ruth (sheaf of wheat), Solomon (gold), Mary (heart), Joseph (hammer), Elizabeth (angel), Jesus (manger or cross), and so on.
Begin by talking to the children about families—especially about grandparents, parents, and children. Explain that sometimes people use trees to help them picture their families. Point to your "tree" and briefly explain how the thick part could be the grandparents, the branches could be the parents, and the smaller twigs could be the children.
Tell the group that sometimes we use a tree to help us think about Jesus' family too. Many, many years before Jesus was born God made a promise to a man named Jesse. He said that someone from his family—one of his children's children's children's children's children would be God's own Son. So when we make a family tree for Jesus, we sometimes call it a "Jesse tree." It reminds us that God keeps the promises he makes to his people.
Hold up each ornament and ask the children to identify it. Allow them to wonder about what person in God's family and what promises are represented by the picture. Say each name together and encourage the children to tell you what they know about that special person in Jesus' family.
Conclude by telling the children that the Jesse tree will stay in your sanctuary throughout the Advent season as a very special reminder. It will help everyone to remember God's wonderful promise to send Jesus to earth.
Third Sunday of Advent: The Desert
Old Testament: Isaiah 35
Psalter: Psalm 146:5–10
Epistle: James 5:7–10
Gospel: Matthew 11:2–11
A merry Christmas in the Mojave Desert seemed to be a contradiction in terms to me! My favorite aunt repeatedly assured me of the beauties and the positive benefits that could be gained from living in the desert. But I left the desert decidedly unconvinced.
For one thing, all the symbols I associated with Christmas—snow, shopping, carolers, and people bustling about— were missing. In their place were solitude, deafening quiet, searing heat by day, arctic cold by night, movable colors and dancing sunlight, scurrying Gila monsters, scraggly scrub, and monotonous sandy expanses. At best, the wilderness spoke to me of ambivalence. There was beauty of a sort, but it was beauty laced with the beast!
Isaiah remembered the desert and what it meant in the lore of God's people (10:24–27; 11:16). The people of Israel knew the desert to be a double-edged encounter. On the one hand, the wilderness symbolized the exodus, the time when Moses liberated the Hebrew slaves and plunged into the desert in search of a land "flowing with milk and honey." The wilderness spoke to them of freedom, of new chances, of God being uniquely present to their growing discoveries. The wilderness symbolized the presence of God in all-protecting and all-providing ways. It was God who led the motley crew with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. It was God who gave water to the parched, quail to the hungry, and manna to the starving.
On the other hand, the wilderness spoke to the Israelites of constant insecurity, of approaching danger, of a fight against the unforgiving elements of heat and cold, of flagging morale and sagging vision. It reminded them of a time when there was never enough food, no good road maps, no freedom from the fear of galloping Egyptians coming to reclaim their runaway labor union. The wilderness brought to mind portable living and going in circles for forty years.
So for Israel the desert brought forth a variety of conflicting emotions. Though unchosen and uncomfortable, the desert was also the place of self-discovery and self-actualization for Israel.
For Isaiah the desert was the way to go home. Just as God had used the desert as a thoroughfare to a new home when Israel was released from captivity so long ago in Egypt, so now, Isaiah believed, God would again bring the exiles into the desert for a new beginning. This time the wilderness would literally be transformed into the suburbs of Eden to welcome home the exiles. What looked like boring sand would glisten in the sun like sparkling diamonds; cactus, palm and mesquite would be christened lilies, roses, and crocus. Swimming pools would replace arid wastes; swamps would form over dry ditches; reeds and rushes would sprout up through stunted brown grass.
People would come alive in this wilderness too. Crutches would be discarded, hearing aids removed, seeing-eye dogs left at home. Arid this time God's people would not get lost, for there would be an interstate highway running all the way from slavery to freedom. That freeway would be known as "The Holy Way" and on this highway not one of God's chosen would ever get lost. No beast, human or animal would savage the traveler; "and the ransomed of the LORD will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away" (35:10).
In Isaiah's vision the forbidding desert has become the inviting highway home where God waits to welcome the weary exiles. That's possible because God is our home wherever we are. Whether we sojourn in Egypt, Jerusalem, Babylon, or even out in the wilderness, God is there.
There once was a Man who more than anything else wanted to be totally open to God's leading. All his life he had known the security of home, but the time came for him to discover his identity, to probe his vocation, and to respond to his calling. "Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert…" (Matthew 4:1). God beckoned Jesus to meet him in the desert, the place where God's people had once discovered who they were. God was there in the wilderness, in the testing, in the questions, in the options.
The lonely silhouette of the Son of Man moves toward the setting sun. He is alone, but God is there. He is hungry, but angels come and prepare him dinner. He is uncertain, but he emerges from the desert with a clear and certain awareness of who he is and what he is to become.
The wilderness is the place where we meet God, confront self, and make our choices. "Do it again, Lord—do it again!" Let the desert blossom, let the lostness become a highway by the "new and living way" that Jesus opened for us (Hebrews 10:20).
Suggested Anthems
"Comfort Ye My People" (solo), Handel [from Messiah (Schirmer)]
"Go Tell John" [Spiritual]
"He Watching Over Israel," Mendelssohn [Schirmer]
"In God, My Faithful God," Buxtehude [Concordia]
"O Zion, that Bringest Good Tidings," Stainer [Hall & McCreary Co.]
"Patiently, Patiently I have Waited for the Lord" Saint-Saens [from Christmas Oratorio (Schirmer)]
"Rejoice Greatly" Woodward [Schirmer]
"The Lord Is My Light," Allitsen [Lorenz]
"The Only Son from Heaven," Bach [Concordia]
"The Path of the Just," Harker [Schirmer]
"The People that Walked in Darkness" (solo), Handel [from Messiah (Schirmer)]
"Then Shall the Eyes of the Blind" / "He Shall Feed His Flock," Handel [from Messiah (Schirmer)]
"Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones," seventeenth-century German [Schirmer]
(Note: Many other suggestions for congregational and choral music based on the Scripture lessons for this Sunday are included here).
For the Children
Preparation: Make several new symbols for your Jesse tree, symbols that will help the children remember that God took care of the Israelites everywhere—even in the desert. Suggestions: Manna, Quail
Gather the children around your Jesse tree. Point to several of the ornaments they hung on the tree last week and invite them to tell you what they remember about those pictures and the people and/or promises they remind us of.
Then show them your new ornaments. Explain what each of them is and invite the children to tell you how God showed love for the people by providing manna and quail. Conclude by reminding them that even in the hot, dusty, dry desert, where people have trouble finding food and water to stay alive, God was with the people. God sent them food and kept them safe. God promised to be with the people—and God was! God is with each of us today too—no matter where we are or what we do. God keeps that promise—always!
Fourth Sunday of Advent: The Sign
Old Testament: Isaiah 7:10–16
Psalter: Psalm 80:1–7, 17–19
Epistle: Romans 1:1–7
Gospel: Matthew 1:18–25
God is a sign painter! One of God's favorite hobbies is putting up signs in places obvious and hidden, clear and oblique, that reveal the "outskirts of his ways." The signs tell people that God is present with us.
Eons ago when the race was young, God painted a sign in the heavens to forever remind us that we are indissolubly linked with God's purpose: "I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth" (Genesis 9:13). The rainbow is a reminder that God's promise to us is forever fixed. Even today God uses "signs and wonders"; they are present everywhere for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear.
In Isaiah's day the country of Judah was being bullied into a "covenant of death" against the escalating power of the Assyrians. The citizens of Judah panicked; as Isaiah writes, "...the hearts of Ahaz and his people were shaken, as the trees of the forest are shaken by the wind" (7:2). God whispers to Isaiah to whisper to King Ahaz that the way out of the situation is to "Be careful, keep calm and don't be afraid. Do not lose heart because of these two smoldering stubs of firewood [Israel and Aram]..." (7:4) Those burned out royals were history.
However, King Ahaz is too afraid of these former military giants to heed the prophet's advice. God whispers to Isaiah yet a second time, 'Ask the LORD your God for a sign..." God is magnanimous to Ahaz. God tells him to ask for any sign he wishes—as deep as hell or as high as heaven. But in a pious charade, Ahaz replies that he would never want to put the Lord to the test.
Isaiah erupts in anger when he recognizes that Ahaz is playing "cat and mouse" with the Almighty.
"Hear now, you house of David! Is not enough to try the patience of men? Will you try the patience of my God also?" (7:13).
He continues,
"Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: the virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel" (7:14).
In the Bible, a sign is an indication of God's purposeful activity, but it is never proof enough in itself. The sprinkling of signs throughout the story is a vivid reminder that God is not aloof from the world of daily affairs, nor is God bound by the ironclad cause-and-effect relationship. God does leave hints, clues, signs, and wonders along the way that give evidence of God's redemptive working, but the signs are ambiguous enough that at the last what is required is faith and trust.
Signs do not stand in isolation. That would be like parking under a round sign that read "New York City—325 miles," and thinking that you had already arrived in New York. Signs are attached to the prophetic word. The sign is the child himself, not the manner of the birth of the child. This child would come to a particular time, and be born to a particular family. Most likely the mother was known to Ahaz. Some suggest that the woman was the Queen and the child Hezekiah.
The name Immanuel is also a theological declaration: "God with us." Isaiah points to the sign—the birth of a child in the immediate future who would grow up among his people as a sign that "God is with us." Even before the lad reaches the "age of discretion," the threatening kings will be a historical footnote.
The evangelist Matthew also believed that God was a sign painter. With quill in hand, Matthew researched the pages of Isaiah's signs. Matthew knew one thing for certain and that was that in the man Jesus, God had come to dwell among people. The man Jesus and God's life had intersected. As the gospel writer wrestled with Isaiah's signs, he was certain that no higher designation could be awarded to Jesus than the sign that Isaiah painted in this seventh chapter. Immanuel then and Immanuel now—"God with us"—was ultimately the truest sign that could point to Jesus.
The difference is that in Isaiah the sign must forever point forward; in Matthew the sign has come to rest on a person. Ahaz, amid his fearful distractions, could also know the promise of the sign. The birth of a son could be an eloquent announcement that "God is with us." Matthew says, in a fuller and more total way than either Isaiah or Ahaz could ever imagine, that Immanuel or "God with us" is a name that is given to that baby, born in a barn, who in his very helplessness, powerlessness, and vulnerability announces to a waiting world "God is with us." Now the sign has become the reality, and the shadows meld into light: "by this sign we shall conquer!"
Suggested Anthems
"Arise Now, Daughter of Zion," Saint-Saens [Schirmer]
"Come Down, O Love Divine," Ampney [Oxford]
"Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus," Jefferson [Flammer]
"Dona Nobis Pacem," Bitgood [Gray]
"Go Now in Peace," Sleeth [Hinshaw]
"O Thou that Tellest Good Tidings to Zion," Handel [from Messiah (Schirmer)]
"O Zion, that Bringest Good Tidings," Stainer [Hall & McCreaiy Co.]
"Peace I Leave With You," Roberts [Schirmer]
(Note: Many other suggestions for congregational and choral music based on Scripture lessons for this Sunday are included here).
For the Children
Preparation: You may want to prepare some new symbols for your Jesse tree. The focus of today's lesson is on signs. If you don't have any of God's "signs" on your tree, prepare a few to add today: rainbow star.
Again, gather the children around the Jesse tree. Remind them that the tree helps us remember God's promises. Invite them to tell you about some of the ornaments. Then draw their attention to the rainbow and star. Ask them what special promise the rainbow reminds us of. Then invite them to tell you what the star reminds them of—what special promise came true in a small stable in Bethlehem? Explain to the children that these signs from God remind people of God's promises—and God always keeps those promises!
Christmas Eve or Day: The Child
Old Testament: Isaiah 9:2–7
Psalter: Psalm 96
Epistle: Titus 2:11–14
Gospel: Luke 2:1–14
Isaiah concludes the eighth chapter by describing a darkness so deep that people who experience it will have no dawn. Everywhere they look they will see distress and the gloom of anguish; and they will be thrust into deep darkness.
The old system was unworkable. God seemed to be a stranger in the land. Light would sometimes flicker to revive fading hopes, only to be quenched by darkness that drove the nation into deeper disarray. Was this the last chapter? Was Judah in the twilight of her times, and would this prove to be the national sunset?
Isaiah had announced that Judah would be turned into a pastoral wasteland. The land would be overgrown with weeds, briars, and thorns. Cattle would run loose, and sheep would wander without shepherds (7:23–25). The lights were going out, and all would be "thrust into thick darkness."
Isaiah is compelled by a prophetic insight that will not let him go. The prophet believes that it is darkest before the dawn rather than before a total blackout. He believes that God has promised to honor the throne and house of David and that some way, some day, God will revive the fortunes of the chosen people. David's heir will be raised up; he will return and reign. Isaiah remembers that promise in 2 Samuel:
I will raise up your offspring to succeed you, who will come from your own body, and I will establish his kingdom. He is the one who will build a house for my Name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.
—2 Samuel 7:12–13
What God promises, God really does provide. Because of this conviction, the prophet says: "The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned" (Isaiah 9:2).
In chapter 7 Isaiah had pinned his hopes on the enigmatic sign of a child who would be nicknamed "Immanuel." In chapter 11, Isaiah, in describing the "peaceable kingdom," announces that "a little child will lead them" (11:6). The newness and freshness of a child of promise is what is called for.
Was it possible that Isaiah was heralding the birth of the new king Hezekiah and placing these mighty accolades on this promising monarch? Hezekiah was a remarkable alternative to the bland and vacillating kings that preceded him: "Hezekiah trusted in the LORD, the God of Israel. There was no one like him among all the kings of Judah, either before him or after him" (2 Kings 18:5). Hezekiah put pride, piety, and progress back into the Judean portfolio. He launched a moral reformation, after which political, military and financial affairs thrived and prospered.
But as good as Hezekiah was, he was not so good as to honorably wear the titles Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace. If these are intended to be accurate designations for The Chosen One who would lead God's people from darkness into light; whose burden would be light and his yoke easy (9:4); who would grow in authority and in favor with God and humanity; who would bring in a reign of endless peace; whose policies would be tied exclusively to justice and righteousness—then Hezekiah was an almost but not quite!
As was often the case, the prophet's promise was fulfilled in Hezekiah—but only partially. With each fulfillment was born a new promise that required the prophet to peer still deeper into the fog and to stretch further into the future. In the end what Isaiah could forecast with certainty was, "The zeal of the LORD Almighty will accomplish this" (9:7).
When on Christmas morn another child was born, Matthew was confident that Isaiah's image of "Immanuel" was the perfect baby picture of the new child. This little lad, Jesus, was truly "God with us." In him the name was no sign, no partial truth—it was who he was.
When we ponder the mystery of "The Word made flesh," we return to Isaiah's images. No, Isaiah did not know the Christ, but he knew there was more yet to come. The down payment, seen in Hezekiah, would become full payment in Jesus, the Anointed One. What Isaiah glimpsed from afar, the church now knows up close and personal and sings on Christmas Day: "Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace" of he who for us is the "Lord of Lords and King of Kings" (Revelation 17:14).
Suggested Anthems
Adult Choir Anthems
"Christmas Fanfare," Young [Flammer]
"O Magnum Misterium," Victoria [Schirmer]
"O Morn of Beauty" Sibelius [Ditson]
"Ring Those Christmas Bells," Levene [Shawnee]
"Shepherd's Christmas Song," Dickinson [Gray]
"The Snow Lay on the Ground," arr. Coates [Shawnee]
"There Were Shepherds," Mueller [Flammer]
"While Shepherds Watched Their Sheep," Jungst [Gray]
Especially for Children
"Gloria in Excelsis," Jolley [Shawnee]
"Glory to God," Handel [from Messiah (Schirmer)]
"Jesu Bambino," Yon [Fischer]
"O Holy Night," Adam [Gray]
"Special Delivery" Harris [Fischer]
"The Birthday of a King," Nerdlinger [Schirmer]
"The Snow Lay on the Ground," arr. Sowerby [Gray]
"Three Austrian Carols," arr. Track [Shawnee]
"What Strangers Are These?" Scottish [Birchard]
Handbell Anthems
"Alleluia, Alleluia," Saint-Saens [Schirmer]
"Carols Three," Zaninelli [Shawnee]
"Christmas Bell Canon," Dare [Shawnee]
"Glory to God in the Highest," Pergolesi [Ditson]
"Ring Christmas Bells," Roesch [Flammer]
"There Were Shepherds," Saint-Saens [Schirmer]
(Note: Many other suggestions for congregational and choral music based on Scripture lessons for Christmas Eve or Day are included here).
For the Children
Preparation: Place a small manger in a large box. Wrap the box and lid separately with gold or silver foil paper. Place a large bow on the lid.
Show the children the box and wonder with them what might be in it: I have something inside this box for each of you. I can promise you that it is the best present you will ever receive. Let's see if you can guess what the gift is. I will give you some hints. (1) In this box is something so valuable that money cannot buy it. (2) The gift in this box has made millions of people happy. (3) It is a gift that no one can take or steal from you. (4) It is truly a gift of love from your heavenly Father.
Open the box and hold up the manger, holding baby Jesus. Today…unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given. Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, the best Christmas gift ever!
First Sunday after Christmas: The Mother Eagle
Old Testament: Isaiah 63:7–9
Psalter: Psalm 148
Epistle: Hebrews 2:10–18
Gospel: Matthew 2:13–23
Isaiah remembers, and as he does, the prophet begins to stammer. His reason yields to praise, and remembered history turns to worship. There are times, however rare, when words, concepts, and systems are not grandiose enough to be the cradle of the gift.
In Isaiah 63 (RSV), the prophet strains to capture the scope and the grandeur of God's "great goodness," God's praiseworthy acts, all discovered within God's mercy and all given "according to the abundance of his steadfast love." God comes down from a distant heaven to stand with the people in all their distress. We overhear the Holy One of Israel: "Surely they are my people, sons who will not deal falsely" (63:8).
The prophet who speaks oracles to his hearers begins to sing, and his song blends into prayer as he says, "In all their distress, he was distressed." God in no way holds himself aloof from hurting humanity. Rather, God enters into the human dilemma and takes our distress upon himself. That surely is what the Incarnation finally points toward.
Isaiah could not have predicted what the "enfleshing" of God in the Incarnation could mean, but given the boundaries of the prophet's experience, he came as close as was possible to being able to fathom the eternal mystery of God's self-giving. Isaiah stresses that God did not send someone else but rather entered into our hurting firsthand, to share our grief and to lift it from us:
In his love and mercy he redeemed them; he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.
—Isaiah 63:9
The imagery of the prophet reaches back to the earliest recollection of Israel's past. God, who has always been their faithful Father, is now pictured as their nurturing mother eagle. The writer of Deuteronomy picks up on the theme of God lifting up his people:
The LORD your God, who is going before you, will fight for you, as he did for you in Egypt, before your very eyes, and in the desert. There you saw how the LORD your God carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place.
—Deuteronomy 1:30-31
The same image is used in Exodus: "You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt, and how I carried you on eagle's wings and brought you to myself…" (19:4).
Isaiah's penetrating insight moves beyond perceiving God only as the architect of creation; the designer of Israel's history; the moral governor of the universe. These descriptions are most certainly true, but God is also like a nurturing mother eagle who has carried her beloved young to safety and to protection time and time again through their mutinous history. This image is also reflected in one rendering of Acts 13:18, which reads, "As a nursing father bare them in the wilderness." What an illustrative mixing of the nurturing images!
Living with Isaiah in Advent and Christmas can only assure us that in his depths he is so close, and yet so far. The prophet touches the hem of the divine garment. He edges us through his images to that moment when images become reality and the promise surrenders to fulfillment.
For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham's descendants. For this reason he had to be made like his brothers in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.
—Hebrews 2:16–18
Suggested Anthems
"All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name," Lane [Concordia]
"Hasten Swiftly, Hasten Softly/' Kountz [Galaxy]
"Hark! The Herald Angels Sing," Lorenz [Lorenz]
"Love Came Down," Simeone [Shawnee]
"Love Came Down at Christmas," Sowerby [FitzSimons]
"Nativity Carol," Rutter [Oxford]
"Nazareth," Gounod [Flammer]
"O Christians, Sing with Exultation," Franck [Concordia]
"O Lord Our God How Excellent Is Thy Name" (trio or 4-part) Marcello [Flammer]
"O Lord, Our Master, How Glorious Is Thy Name," Tebmann [Concordia]
"The Noel Carol," arr. Calwell [Gray]
(Note: Many other suggestions for congregational and choral music based on Scripture lessons for this Sunday are included here).
For the Children
Show the children a wind chime, and ask them to explain how it works. "Can you see the air that makes the chimes sound? No, but you know it is there. When the chimes are silent, does that mean the air has gone away? No, you know air is always there, just like you know God is always there."
Tell the children that in today's Scripture the prophet Isaiah says that God is always with us and is always taking care of us. He will keep us safe from danger, just as a mother bird keeps her babies safe.
Then close by reading these wonderful words of promise: "God will never abandon you. God's steadfast love will be with you always."
This Advent/Christmas resource was produced by a worship design team from the Wyckoff Reformed Church, Wyckoff, New Jersey: Willis A. Jones, Senior Minister; Kathy Bowers, Director of Christian Education; David Maiulb, Organist and Choirmaster; Paul and Janet Sisko, "artists in residence."