Advent in Plain Sight

A Devotion through Ten Objects

Jill J. Duffield

• Publisher: Westminster John Knox Press
• Year: 2021
• Print ISBN: 9780664267148
• eBook ISBN: 9781646982035
• Topic: Theology & Religion

At Christmas, God came into our ordinary world in the form of a child, and still today, God is at work through the ordinary stuff of life, if we train our eyes to see.

In this daily devotional for Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany, Jill J. Duffield draws readers' attention to ten ordinary objects that appear in the biblical narratives of messianic prophesy and incarnation—objects we encounter in our own lives. Through objects such as gates, trees, cloth, light, and water, readers will find new meaning in the biblical account of Jesus' coming. By connecting everyday objects with biblical texts, Advent in Plain Sight prompts readers to see the near kingdom of heaven on earth and ponder what that divine proximity enables and asks them to do and be. Each daily devotional features a Scripture reading, prayer, and reflection, reminding Christians that God still dwells among us, even in the most ordinary places.

Fourth Week of Advent

Trees

Christmas Eve: Cloth

Luke 2:1–7

And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

Luke 2:7

Swaddling Clothes

My Bible dictionary tells me that wrapping an infant in bands of cloth is “a normal act of childcare for warmth, security, etc.” I like the “etc.” included in the definition of sparganoo. Even the person who put together the entry in the reference resource recognizes that swaddling a baby, while practical and soothing, also entails an ineffable more. I picture Mary, exhausted from her trip and from childbirth, taking each strip of cloth and tenderly wrapping it around her firstborn son. I wonder if she did so haltingly, unsure if she was getting it right.

I remember attempting to swaddle my firstborn a few hours after his birth. The nurse unwrapped the sleeping bundle, so snug and content, quickly gave me a demonstration, and invited me to give it a try. It looked so easy. It proved to be more complicated in practice. What she had made look neat and secure, I managed to make look like a lumpy mess from which my son’s head was barely visible. His little legs kicked, he flailed his arms inside the spacious sack and started to cry. The experienced nurse swooped over, unrolled the flannel blanket and within seconds had him looking once again like a fuzzy, pale blue burrito in a knit cap. Instantly, his crying ceased. She handed me my baby and assured me I would master the swaddling technique soon enough.

Consoled and awake, his bright eyes stared up at me. Stunned he existed, was present in my arms, dependent upon me to care for him, I wondered about the wisdom of these competent people allowing me to take him home mere hours after his arrival. I realized the preparation classes, the ones in which we diapered and swaddled a doll, did not cover all of the “etc.” of childcare. Nonetheless, our family of three drove out of the hospital parking lot unsupervised the next day.

The miracle is that I did learn to swaddle him in cloth, as did my husband. We learned how to comfort him, what eased his stress, and what exacerbated his discomfort. We rocked him and walked with him, paced really, his little head in the palm of his father’s hand, his body resting on Grant’s forearm as Grant bounced him gently and sang Grateful Dead songs. We began to figure out the “etc.” of loving someone more than we had previously known we could love another.

On Christmas Eve, the full humanness of Jesus stuns me no less than when I looked at my own firstborn. After all this waiting and a preparation that cannot really prepare us: he is finally here and oh-so-beloved. Mary wraps him in bands of cloth, for warmth, security, comfort, and so much more. Mary swaddles the baby in whom we will be clothed, all of us enveloped by the unrelenting compassion and grace of our God. Even as we stumble and bumble, learn and fail, nothing can undo the mantle of love in which we are covered. We see the baby Jesus wrapped by his mother in bands of cloth and know the One she holds has the whole world in his hands; therefore we can rest secure.

Questions for Reflection

1. What are your most vivid Christmas Eve memories? What do they mean to you?

2. Have you ever swaddled a baby? Does this image speak to you of God’s love for us?

3. Whenever you touch cloth today, allow it to remind you that you are clothed in Christ, wrapped in the love of God. What might that feel like?

Prayer for the Day

Immanuel, God with us, our wait is over, you are here. When we picture you, wrapped in bands of cloth, resting in your mother’s arms, we marvel that you came to us so humbly, without any earthly status. You truly are fully human, intimately aware of what it means to rely on others for care, to depend on people for help, to cry and hurt, to laugh and grow. You have compassion for us because you empathize with our vulnerability. As we celebrate your birth, we rejoice that we are enveloped in your love no less than you were swaddled in the manger. Amen.

Christmas Day: Light

John 1:1–5

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

John 1:5

Abiding Light

In recent years, the world has felt very dark. Millions stricken with a relentless virus; millions struggling to make ends meet, many of them failing to do so and wondering how they will pay their rent, feed their children, get the medical care they need; natural disasters seemingly ever present; violence both local and between nations refuses to relent. Sadly, the previous sentence could be written on any day in any decade. The particulars change, the people inflicted are different, but the suffering remains. Sin, evil, and our creaturely limits remain, generation after generation. Our need for the light no darkness can overcome does not ever go away. The coming of Immanuel does not alter our immediate circumstances so much as upend how we navigate and understand them.

Just yesterday, driving home from a brief trip with family, I saw a billboard with these words emblazoned upon it: “Jesus is the answer to ALL your problems.” I cannot say its sentiment engendered warm feelings in me. I wondered how non-Christians would read it, assuming it was erected as a form of highway evangelism. What bothered me about it was the transactional nature of it, the instrumentalism it expressed, the idea that Jesus is simply a means to an end or a magic bullet in the face of life’s vicissitudes. It also felt like judgment upon my own sorrow regarding the current state of the world and a few personal challenges too. Was I not relying on Jesus enough? Do I not really love my Lord? Do I simply lack faith?

I could not shake my discomfort with the statement long after it was in my rearview mirror, my mood darkening with each passing mile. I drove through a torrential rainstorm that added to my sense of foreboding. Then, hours later, I rounded a corner and right before my eyes a rainbow arched through the clear, blue sky, an unmistakable sign of God’s promise. Another hour passed and the sun began to set and oranges and purples streaked across the horizon. More time passed and a huge, luminous moon appeared, its presence unyielding and more and more obvious as darkness descended. Light present from the beginning that continues to shine and cannot be overcome.

Jesus, yes, helps me in my problems, provides hope, strength, and courage for the living of this hour. More than the answer, however, he is Immanuel, God with us, God for us, the Savior of the world who knows our human suffering and refuses to turn away from it, but instead endures it so that none of what we face is unknown or off-limits to God’s grace. The One born this day does not provide us with answers so much as he remains with us and guides us as we wrestle with the most perplexing of life’s questions. While we may want the clarity of a billboard, Jesus, the light of the world, offers us the unexpected beauty of a rainbow, the ever-changing colors of a sunset and the steady, relentless, unmistakable presence of a full moon, reminders of God’s saving grace that nothing can overtake.

Questions for Reflection:

1. When have you been reminded of God’s light in the midst of darkness? What were those literal or metaphorical light sources for you?

2. What does Christmas mean to you? How will you mark this day in ways that strengthen your relationship with Jesus?

3. When have you wanted a billboard, but gotten a rainbow instead? How did that sign help you at that time?

Prayer for the Day

Immanuel, you are indeed here with us. We waited and hoped, prepared and sometimes despaired, but nothing would prevent your coming to us. When we fear the darkness around us or within us will prevail, we remember today and know that truly nothing can separate us from God’s love. Your light shines through the cracks and broken places, in the middle of the night, after the storms and with every sunrise. When we wonder where you are or if you are present, help us to see the light that cannot be overcome and illumine our path with it so that no matter what we can remain steadfast on your way. Amen.

Sunday

Genesis 2:4–9

Out of the ground the LORD God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food, the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

Genesis 2:9

The Tree of Life

God is good, all the time. This familiar refrain resounds through sanctuaries when the preacher and the congregation feel compelled to praise the Lord and affirm God’s goodness regardless of present circumstances. The leader shouts, “God is good!” Those gathered respond, “All the time!” The leader then says, “All the time!” The congregation affirms, “God is good!” Being in the middle of an energetic group carried away with this proclamation buoys the spirit, energizes the soul, encourages faithful bravery in the face of all that attempts to defy God’s goodness. Recognizing the foundational truth of divine goodness allows people of faith to call out evil and even dare to combat it with tenacious love.

From the beginning, the very beginning, the creation account beginning, God is good. God creates goodness. God’s performative word names the goodness of all God makes. God’s goodness is gratuitous, over-the-top, unnecessary. The Lord God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food. Divine provisions move well beyond utilitarian and commerce in beauty. Walking through the woods or a city park or even driving on a busy interstate, the diversity and glory of God’s work cannot be missed if one is open to looking up and out. When I look out my window, I see a dogwood tree, tall pines, stocky cedars, oaks, and redbuds. The other day, at the end of my driveway, I discovered thorny blackberry vines with their fruit in stages of red and dark purple. I planted none of these. I water none of these. These pleasant trees were here long before me and will remain long after I am gone. Their grandeur and utility put me in my place and grant needed perspective.

Seeing the glory, tenacity, longevity, variety of the trees that surround me reveals God’s goodness, all the time, when I am awake enough to pay attention to them. The tree of life in Genesis exists not only in the garden of Eden, but in my backyard and indeed all over the world. God’s good creation provides and sustains life, abundant life, not mere survival....

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Introduction
• First Week of Advent: Gates
• Second Week of Advent: Tears
• Third Week of Advent: Belts
• Fourth Week of Advent: Trees
• First Week of Christmas: Hearts
• Second Week of Christmas: Gold
• Excerpt from Lent in Plain Sight, by Jill J. Duffield