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- Herausgeber: IVP Formatio
- Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
Preparation for the Christmas season can often feel busy and frantic, but it doesn't have to be this way. What if we stopped and listened to the movement and unfolding of God's plan around us? Making Room in Advent is an invitation away from the chaos and into the space where God is at work. The unfolding of God's plan often happens in unlikely spaces, both in Scripture and in our own lives. Join Bette Dickinson as she moves through the story of Jesus' birth and the stories of the many people that were part of the journey. Each page is filled with an original painting that will fill you with hope and wonder during the Advent season. The twenty-five devotionals offer spiritual practices, breath prayers, and reflection questions that allow you to truly make room for God's work in your life, your community, and the world.
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This book is dedicated to the many Elizabeths who have been midwives to the dreams God has birthed in my life, to those who have called my voice to arise.To my mother, Charla Lau, and mother-in-law, Kim Dickinson; Sharon Garlough Brown; Julie Quinn; Alicia DeKam; Andrea Thomas; Christine Wagoner; Deb Griest; Becky Lee; and Danielle Strickland. Without your prayers, encouragement, and investment in my life, this book would not be possible!
Contents
10 One Another
INTRODUCTION
Making Room
I was on my knees in my in-laws’ craft room spraying a fresh white claybord with water as it lay flat on the vinyl floor. The June morning sun was streaming in through the tall, narrow windows and glinting off the wet board. My paints and brushes were sprawled out beside me as I prepared the first painting I did for this book.
I soaked the tip of my squirrel-tail brush into the phthalo blue acrylic paint and gently tapped the pool of water on the surface of the board. A thin stream of paint sprawled out like the tributaries of a meandering river, covering the surface in brilliant blue.
I was painting The Annunciation, the cover painting of this book and the pivotal moment when the angel Gabriel appears to Mary and declares she will bear the Messiah. And as I watched the paint drip down the surface of the board, I thought of Mary—pregnant with Jesus. Suddenly, another thought slipped into my mind. My pulse quickened.
I think I might be pregnant.
The next day I took a test and found that, indeed, I too was with child.
Jesus was conceived in Mary, the idea of this creative work had been conceived in me, and now a real-life human was conceived in my body too.
The three were woven together—Jesus, this creative work, and Winston, my youngest—all growing within me and teaching me something about new life and what it means to be a channel for it: to let it gestate within, wait for it to ripen, and then give it birth.
As Winston grew in me, God grew creative ideas for this book and stretched me to make room for them. With every move of Winston’s, the Spirit moved within me too, kicking me every now and again to remind me he was there. Sometimes he would toss and turn within me in the middle of the night—waking me with inspiration.
And so, I would yield—my flesh, blood, and breath over to him and to what he was shaping in me. In the process, I discovered that I too was growing—in the womb of God. Nestled within him in the solitude of my studio or on the page, I was stretching my arms and legs into the vastness of him. I was feeding on his Word and it was shaping my bones and expanding my lungs. I was growing into the words I was writing and becoming more myself in the figures I was painting.
This is what happens when God chooses to dwell with us—he unfolds in us and we unfold in him. And isn’t this what the Advent season is all about?
Advent, which means “coming, or arrival,” is a gestation process. It is a season of allowing Christ to be formed in us as we also are formed in him. And like a pregnancy, it is also a threshold time, a season of transition between what is and what will be.
As participants in Advent then, we stand between the times. We look forward to the second coming of Christ, but we do so as we look in the rearview mirror at the story of his arrival and the story that came before his birth. Because like with any pregnancy, Jesus was born into history. While he came into the world to do something totally new, he was born into something ancient. It is a story with roots.
A NEW SHOOT WITH OLD ROOTS
For generations, Israel had been longing for the salvation of the Messiah. All of history was setting the stage for him. But the stage Jesus entered was lifeless and withering—the stump of the Jesse tree. This is the metaphor the prophet Isaiah used to describe what the people of Israel had become. The line of the kings of Israel, starting with Jesse’s son David, had been cut down to its roots.
The people of Israel were meant to be a thriving tree reflecting God’s love to the nations, but they withered when they failed to live into this call. They were not characterized by God’s righteousness and justice. And so, they were taken into exile and endured so much damage that only a stump remained.
But God would not abandon this stump. No, God promises in Isaiah 11:1-4, 10:
A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse;
from his roots a Branch will bear fruit.
The Spirit of the LORD will rest on him—
the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
the Spirit of counsel and of might,
the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the LORD —
and he will delight in the fear of the LORD.
He will not judge by what he sees with his eyes,
or decide by what he hears with his ears;
but with righteousness he will judge the needy,
with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth. . . .
In that day the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples; the nations will rally to him, and his resting place will be glorious.
This painting shows a tree stump against a dark blue, almost black, background. The stump takes up most of the space in this painting. In the tree stump is a hallow, just above the roots at the base, and in the hallow a human fetus--meant to be Jesus--is beginning to grow.
Inspired by this passage, I painted the stump of Jesse as a motif in the lower left corner of each painting in this series. The new shoot that grows in the stump is the infant Christ in the womb—the ultimate sign of God’s faithfulness and new life. God had reclaimed the surviving remnant of Israel and was carrying out his promise to save all nations through Jesus.
This shoot, as it grew, would rule with true justice on behalf of the needy and poor. Jesus would show us what God’s life-giving, fruitful, and expansive kingdom looks like—a kingdom that grows and stretches to the nations. A kingdom that takes those on the margins—the stranger, the widow, and the orphan—and brings them into the center of his story. Out of the withering stump of Jesse, Jesus would grow into a fruitful tree that gives life to the world. Because this is just what God does.
He makes barren places fruitful.
He renews old places with new life.
He takes what is dying and grows a shoot of hope.
This is what God does when Jesus first enters the scene, and it is what he does through the stories of those who make room for him. Could it be, then, that what seems dead in our world may be the very ground where new life grows? The very place where we have said . . .
“I can never recover from this.”
“It’s too late for me.”
“I have made too many mistakes.”
“No good could come from this.”
“That dream is dead.”
. . . this could be the very place into which God springs new life—from an old, decaying stump.
As you read this devotional, consider, What is God bringing to life in you?
HOW TO ENGAGE THIS DEVOTIONAL
Each section of this book contains several different elements: a painting, a Scripture passage, a written reflection, a question, and a breath prayer. Here are some suggestions on how to get the most of each component.
Notice. Take a few minutes to sit with the painting at the beginning of each entry and reflect on the written prompts underneath. This way of engaging with art is often called visio divina, Latin for “divine seeing.” It is a way of beholding a piece of art through prayerful contemplation. After you spend some time with the painting, read the Scripture text for the day and return to the painting for fresh insights. Allow yourself to commune with God through the painting and deepen your understanding of his Word.
Read. This devotional will lead you through the entire birth narrative in Luke 1–2. Read each passage slowly and invite the Lord to speak to you. The written reflection after the Scripture text is meant to guide you to a place of awe, worship, and contemplation.
At the end of each entry is a statement from the text about the way God chooses to come into the world through the characters in Luke. Let this prompt you to consider ways you can make room for God to show up in your own story.
Ponder. A question or two are provided at the end of each entry to help you consider how to apply the Scripture to your life.
Pray. These sections contain a simple breath prayer with the major invitation of the day. This is a way of intentionally breathing through your prayers. As you inhale, pray the phrase after “inhale,” and as you exhale, pray the phrase after “exhale.” Consider using the suggested breath prayer throughout your day, even while doing mundane tasks like washing the dishes or walking the dog.
See each component of this devotional as an opportunity to converse with God. Attentive presence is more important than completing the content. Allow the Holy Spirit to bring you to a place of rest, refreshment, and transformation in his way and at his pace.
This painting shows an ancient, bearded writer, intended to be the Gospel writer Luke, seated at a small wooden desk. He is writing the first few words of the Gospel on his parchment. Wisps of light are coming into the parchment from above and then seemingly leaving the parchment and going back into the air. The stump of Jesse is in the lower left corner of the painting, but the hallow in the stump is empty.
NOTICE
Let your eyes move through the painting. What catches your eye? Focus on that portion of the work and sit with it for a while.
READ
Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed down to us by those who from the first were eyewitnesses and servants of the word. With this in mind, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, I too decided to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught. —LUKE 1:1-4
There is a saying in the creative world: “Show me, don’t tell me.” It means that the truth is revealed better through incarnation than explanation.
As a skilled creator, when Luke writes his Gospel, he too reveals the truth by showing rather than telling. The word for “account” used in Luke 1:4 is also translated “narrative.” Luke is authoring a story. He doesn’t just tell us who God is. He shows us—through the deeply personal stories of ordinary people like Zechariah, Elizabeth, Mary, the shepherds, Simeon, and Anna, who all had doubts, longings, and a life barren until he made his entrance.
Luke shows us how God’s Word not only takes on flesh in the person of Jesus, but also in the lives of his people. God’s message of hope is communicated through the waiting and ache of Zechariah and Elizabeth, who were barren and then surprised by pregnancy. His message of favor is embodied in the womb of a once ordinary virgin. His announcement of joy for all people is illuminated to lowly shepherds on the margins. The revelation of Jesus’ birth takes on melody through the voices of Zechariah, Mary, and Simeon, who all grapple for words to describe its surpassing beauty.
This is how Luke draws on the authenticity of Jesus as the Son of God—through the way his divinity is manifested in the stories of flesh and blood people. As each character stretches to make room for the Savior King, we see God fulfill his promise of redemption.
God rescues them in their distress and revolutionizes who they are becoming. He transforms them, bringing them from despair to hope. From those who wait to those who receive. From the darkness of sin to the dawn of forgiveness. From lowly insignificance to radiating with God’s purpose. And from a people oppressed in the kingdoms of this world to freedom in the kingdom of God.
These characters in the first few chapters of Luke are like signposts pointing to God’s salvation for the people of Israel. Through them, we see a glimpse of what God was getting ready to do for all nations, and his plan of redemption continues to unfold today.
And so, like any good story, as I read about Zechariah, Elizabeth, Mary, and the others, I find myself. I see myself in Mary when she asks Gabriel, “How will this be?” because I know what it is like to wonder, “How?” in the face of God’s call on my life. I ache with Elizabeth, because I know what it is like to ask God to answer my prayers and yet remain barren and waiting. And I moan alongside Zechariah, because I know what it is like to be silenced by God in my need for control and certainty.
But I am also inspired by the characters in Luke, because I see the ways their lives and communities are changed when they receive Jesus. I see how they arise into their truest selves when they encounter him. I watch them discover the expansiveness of God’s kingdom that stretches to the margins. I witness how their souls are awakened by the wonder of God and how they respond by aligning themselves with his purposes. And, as the characters in this story are transformed by God’s salvation, I am challenged with them to receive his salvation in similar ways.
Like with the characters in Luke, God’s message is working its way out through you. Through your humanity, your yearnings and longings and his presence in the midst of them. So lean in and listen to what he is saying through your story. Make room for him, and as he dwells within you, the world will see Jesus in the flesh.
God comes into the world by becoming flesh.
We make room for him by embodying his Word.
PONDER
How might God be clothing his message in your flesh?
PRAY
Inhale: Your word . . .
Exhale: . . . becomes flesh in me.
This painting shows the priest Zechariah holding the censer of incense as white smoke rises from it. His entire body is shown all the way up to his neck, but not his face. The stump of Jesse is in the lower left, again with nothing showing in the hallow of the stump.
NOTICE
What kind of prayer rises from within you as you reflect on this piece?
