December 9, 2016 Advent: Remembering the Forgotten at Christmas

This morning we continue our series of messages about Advent.  The Advent messages cover some of the characters of the Christmas story, and this Sunday the characters are ones not usually on our radar screen.  Generally, we think of characters such as the shepherds, the magi, and the angels when contemplating the Christmas story.  This morning, however, I want us to think about those I will call the forgotten.  

      

Our Scripture text comes from a passage we don’t often read at Advent.  We don’t often read it because it is not a happy passage.  It is a passage that does not make the cover of Christmas cards.  It is not a passage included in Christmas plays.  This is a passage that does not fit our image of Christmas, which is exactly why we must keep it in mind.

     

The passage to which I am referring is what is often called the slaughter of the innocents, which tells of when Mary, Joseph, and Jesus fled to Egypt in order to escape Herod’s murderous rampage.  Herod, we know from Matthew’s gospel, was so paranoid and frightened at the prospect of a newborn king that he ordered all male children in Bethlehem and vicinity, aged two and under, to be put to death.  While such an act is absolutely unfathomable to us, its cruelty was not uncommon in the world into which Jesus was born.  In that time, and for centuries before, scores of the forgotten and unknown people were subject to the whims, rashness, cruelty, and tantrums of rulers who held absolute power.  This is not, however, a way of life that was reserved only for the ancient past.  In today’s world there are many who continue to suffer under those who use power to impose their will and their whims upon the people who live under their iron fists.  And Christmas, of all times, is when we should be certain to remember the forgotten – those who live in very difficult circumstances around our world, and not only around the world, but in our own land as well, for our land is filled with many who are forgotten.

      

It is important for us to remember that the gospel has not only an individual side to it – that is, our personal relationship with God – it also has a social side to it, and that means we are called to work to improve the lives of those who suffer, and much of that suffering is imposed upon them because of the Herods of the world.  Jesus certainly challenges us to work to relieve the suffering of others, suffering that no child of God should have to endure.

      

Follow along with me as I read from Matthew 2:13-23 – 

¹³ When they had gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. “Get up,” he said, “take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.”

¹⁴ So he got up, took the child and his mother during the night and left for Egypt,

¹⁵ where he stayed until the death of Herod. And so was fulfilled what the Lord had said through the prophet: “Out of Egypt I called my son.” 

¹⁶ When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi.

¹⁷ Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:

¹⁸ “A voice is heard in Ramah,

     weeping and great mourning,

     Rachel weeping for her children

     and refusing to be comforted,

     because they are no more.” 

¹⁹ After Herod died, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt
²⁰ and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who were trying to take the child’s life are dead.”

²¹ So he got up, took the child and his mother and went to the land of Israel. 

²² But when he heard that Archelaus was reigning in Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. Having been warned in a dream, he withdrew to the district of Galilee, 

²³ and he went and lived in a town called Nazareth. So was fulfilled what was said through the prophets, that he would be called a Nazarene.

While we are called to help alleviate the suffering of others, it is important to know that in doing so we must sometimes challenge the powers of this world.  Years ago, I made some public statements of criticism about actions taken by some elected officials, actions that I believed to be unfair to others.  A few days later I received a call from one of those officials, who made very clear that he was unhappy about what I said.  He reminded me that I was young and naïve and that I was also a minister, and in his opinion, ministers had no right meddling in politics, reminding me there was something known as the separation of church and state.  I was young at the time, and probably somewhat naïve, but I believed that what I had said was worth saying and I was not interested in backing down from it, so I reminded the official there was also something known as free speech. Lucky for me, we live in a democracy and I was supported in my right to speak by our Constitution.     

      

What we clearly learn from this passage is that, for so many others, it is very dangerous to go against rulers and authorities.  The people of Bethlehem and surrounding vicinity discovered this in a terribly tragic way.  Because the magi did not report back to Herod, returning instead to their homeland by an alternate route so that they would not be forced to provide Herod with the location of Jesus, many families suffered an unimaginable heartbreak. Those families, and the children taken away from them, had done nothing wrong.  Nothing. They had, however, the misfortune to live under a tyrant such as Herod, a tyrant whose fear and insecurity would drive him to a murderous action.  I don’t know if the magi ever became aware of Herod’s action, but if they did, it was a very difficult burden that was laid upon them, because Herod used the magi’s avoidance of him as the reason to commit this terrible act of violence.  It’s hard to imagine a more cowardly and dastardly act than to commit an atrocious act of violence, but to then lay it at the feet of others, as though it were their fault, makes it even more despicable. But that is how tyrants operate. They operate through the use of fear and by pitting people against one another.  They use the innocent as human shields.  They see the people over whom they rule as disposable.  That was certainly the MO of Herod, and it was because he wanted people to know that it was dangerous to go against him.  While it is dangerous to go against the rulers and authorities of this world, sometimes it is necessary to do so, because those rulers and authorities must be confronted over their actions and must know they cannot act with impunity and must be called to account when they do not act in the best interests of those over whom they rule.  

      

The Bible is full of examples of the danger in going against rulers and authorities. Not only did the people of Bethlehem tragically find this to be true, Moses and the Hebrew people discovered this as well when they were freed after four centuries of bondage in Egypt, only to be pursued by Pharaoh into the wilderness (Exodus 14).  Elijah found this to be true when he was forced to flee from the wrath of Jezebel (I Kings 19).  John the Baptist also found this to be true.  John spoke words of judgment against Herod, because Herod had taken his brother’s wife as his own. John condemned Herod for this, and because of those words, John was executed (Mark 6:14-29).  Herod had some encouragement in this action, of course, but one of the reasons why it was done was to let people know – you will do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, and most importantly, you will not question it!  Paul was executed at the hands of the Roman government.  Peter was executed at the hands of the Roman government, as were almost all of the other disciples.  The Bible reminds us, certainly, of the danger and high cost of opposing the powers of this world.

     

To justify their actions, governments sometimes present themselves as quasi-religions.  It might not always be in obvious ways, but when you look a little closer, it is striking to see the ways in which governments function as religions.  Governments have documents that are revered as though they are Scripture; they have founders and forebears whose origins and lives are presented with an aura of divinity and are presented as their version of ancient patriarchs and prophets, such as Moses and Elijah; they have practices and rituals that are presented as their own kind of worship services; they ask that allegiance be offered to them above and beyond all others; and they talk of sacrifice in ways that use very religious language.  As quasi-religions, they present themselves as deserving of the ultimate loyalty and they don’t tolerate competition.  This is the meaning of the response Jesus gave when he was asked if it was lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not (Mark 12:13-17).  The response of Jesus that we are to give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’sshould never be taken as a very neat, easy delineation between God and government. What Jesus was saying is this – Caesar has declared himself to be God and wants your ultimate allegiance and all you have and all you are. That’s what God asks as well.  Just like money, you cannot serve two masters, or in this case, two Lords.  Who is it going to be?  This was absolutely true of the Roman Empire, as the emperor was viewed as a god, and as a god, only the emperor was allowed to use the titles Lord, Son of God, Son of Man, Savior, and others. Anyone else using those titles could be put to death, as the Romans would not allow any competition for the quasi-religion of their Empire.  Jesus, however, applied those titles to himself, making a direct refutation of the emperor’s claim to be a god and the Empire’s presentation of itself as a religion. And like John, Jesus was executed for his refusal to acknowledge what the Romans wanted acknowledged, which was that the Roman emperors presented themselves as gods and wanted themselves seen as such, because when you present yourself as a god, and your empire as a religion, then many unjustifiable actions can then be presented as justifiable.

      

But here is one of the really interesting things about God, in comparison to the quasi-religions of empires – God does not operate according to the dictates of the powers and the kingdoms of this world.  The kingdom of God does not take up arms, it does not hand out weaponry, and it does not employ armies.  No, the kingdom of God uses love and service.  To be great in God’s kingdom does not require or ask of power and force; it asks, rather, that we give up power.  Jesus said that to be great in his kingdom one had to serve others.  This was the response to the request of James and John that they be allowed to sit on the right and left of Jesus when he came into his kingdom (Matthew 20:20-28).  When Peter took up a sword Jesus reminded him that those who wield the sword also die by the sword (Matthew 26:52).  When David was chosen by God to succeed Saul as king, Samuel went to David’s home, but David’s father, Jesse, did not bother to call David in from the fields because he could not believe that David could be chosen, because he did not fit the image of a king.  Moses, born a slave, was taken into Pharaoh’s house and raised as a prince of Egypt. Moses only reached his true greatness after being humbled by going into self-imposed exile after his murder of an Egyptian overseer.  It is not happenstance that Jesus was born in a manger and not a palace.  Jesus very much identified with the nameless, the faceless, and the outcasts, and his birth signaled the kind of king he would be, a king who would associate with and love the lowliest of the world and the outcasts of the world.  As did Jesus, we must remember the forgotten.  As did Jesus, we must remember the poor.  As did Jesus, we must remember the sick.  As did Jesus, we must remember the lonely.  As did Jesus, we must remember those who live under oppression.  As did Jesus, we must remember the persecuted.  As did Jesus, we must remember those who mourn. 

      

In thinking about those who are forgotten, I find myself thinking about the group from our church that provides lunch at God’s Kitchen.  On Thursday we fed, I believe, close to fifty people.  The people who come to God’s Kitchen are people who face a good many struggles, and I’m grateful we are able to be one of the churches who provide those meals.  The meals we provide do not, and will not, solve all of the problems those children of God (and our brothers and sisters in Christ) face, but it is a way in which we can remind them that they are not forgotten.  I think of the Khai Khat family, whom we helped to settle here after they were forced to flee their own land.  What would have happened to them if they could not have come to our country?  Would they have been able to find a new home?  I wish it were not necessary for them to have to flee their homeland, because it is not easy to begin again in a new land and a new home, but they found they were not forgotten and were not left to suffer under the oppressive powers that rule their homeland.  I think about the hundreds who line up outside the Serenity Center every Wednesday to receive food and a promise they are not forgotten, either by our church or other churches.  I think about the ladies at the Diersen Center, who are separated from children and other family members while incarcerated.  I think about how they must think each day, and each night, about the decisions and actions that led them to be separated from those they love, and how much it must mean that each week groups of people travel from our church and others churches all across our area to worship with them, to visit with them, and to remind them that they are not forgotten.  I think about the residents of nursing homes, who are so often forgotten, but not by members of our congregation and other congregations.  

      

Mary Clark recently left a book in the office for me.  The book is Faith Grows By Risk, and it is a collection of stories about Kentucky Refugee Ministries.  I would like to read a brief passage telling a small portion of the experience of one of the families that KRM helped to resettle here.  It is titled, Thank You, God.

      

One of the first Congolese refugee families that the Lexington office of Kentucky Refugee Ministries resettled was a family of fourteen. The family had two grown children, several school age children, and a one-year-old little girl.  The family arrived at the airport with one large suitcase for all fourteen people.  All were wearing t-shirts given them by IOM (the agency that arranges refugee travel). As we gathered near the baggage claim, the father opened the one suitcase.  It was filled with baskets he had brought as gifts for everyone who had greeted them at the airport and for the church sponsors. The family had virtually nothing, but they were sharing all they had.  

      

As we were introduced, the youngest daughter was introduced as Thank You God.  Yes, that was her legal name.  The father had been separated from the family for months, but he had found them in the refugee camp shortly before their daughter was born.  In gratitude for the family’s being reunited, they had named their newborn daughter Thank You God.  Every time they said her name, they were reminded of the miracle of their family reunification.

      

(Faith Grows By Risk:  Stories From the Life of Kentucky Refugee Ministries, ed. By James O. Chatham, 2013, p. 132).

      

That family lived in a refugee camp, where they were among the nameless, the faceless, but they were not forgotten!  Neither, thank God, have we been forgotten, so let us remember the forgotten this Christmas, and always!

December 2, 2018 Advent: Follow Your Star

Have you ever taken a journey that did not go well? In my younger years, I drove cars that were not very dependable, which meant that I often found myself broken down along the side of the road.  In the summer of 1983, I drove from Louisville to Dothan, Alabama, to help Tanya move. I was preparing to enter my final year of seminary and we planned on getting married in May of 1984, so we thought it was a good idea for Tanya to move to Louisville, find a job, and settle into life in the city where we would begin our marriage.  I set out from Louisville in my old car and did not get far before experiencing mechanical problems, problems which were complicated by the fact that I did not have much money for repairs.  I was only a few hours into my journey when I stopped to take a break, and when I got back into my car it would not start.  It did not take long to discover that my battery was dead, and not only was it dead, but needed to be replaced.  With my new battery installed, I was soon on my way south once again.  When I came to Birmingham it started to rain, so I turned on my wipers and my headlights.  As soon as I turned on my headlights I noticed my amperage gauge (remember those?) suddenly went all the way to the left, which meant my new battery was quickly discharging.  Finding a repair shop, I discovered that another repair was needed; this time it was my alternator and voltage regulator that had gone bad, which was probably what caused my dead battery earlier.  Not only did they alternator and voltage regulator need to be replaced, but my new battery was so damaged that it also needed to be replaced, once again.  Finally, I arrived in Dothan, where I drove to the local U-Haul dealer to rent a trailer and hitch.  The hitch, of course, did not fit onto my bumper correctly so I spent a long evening getting that problem solved.  The next morning, as we prepared to set off on the return trip to Louisville, I discovered I had a flat tire.  That was not a difficult repair, but it took long enough that Tanya and I were much later getting on the road than planned.  As we passed through Birmingham, I noticed my temperature gauge was beginning to rise, approaching a level that required that I stop to see what was wrong.  This time it was a water pump that needed replacing. Finally, we made it back to Louisville, after many stops, many repairs, and a lot of money spent.  The next morning, we returned the U-Haul trailer, and as we were driving up the ramp to get back on I65, I remarked to Tanya that I was very relieved the trip was over, and surely nothing else could go wrong. No sooner had those words come out of my mouth than the entire exhaust system came loose on my car and dropped to the pavement.  Needless to say, it was quite a loud trip home from there.

      

Not all journeys are easy.  Some journeys seem to be one problem after another. This morning, we begin our Advent series of messages, which are based on the characters of the first Christmas. We will begin with the magi, and as I go through these messages you will note that I am obviously not going to approach the characters in chronological order.  In the passage from Matthew the magi are the last arrivals to visit Jesus, but I want to note that while the other events of the first Christmas were taking place, the magi were making their way to Jerusalem, and then on to Bethlehem, so they are on their journey while all the other events are happening. 

      

Follow along as I read our Scripture text for the morning, from Matthew 2:1-12 – 

¹ After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi  from the east came to Jerusalem 

² and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”

³ When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him.

⁴ When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. 

⁵ “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written:

⁶ “‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, 

      are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; 

      for out of you will come a ruler

     who will shepherd my people Israel.’”

⁷ Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. 

⁸ He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”

⁹ After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. 

¹⁰ When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. 

¹¹ On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. 

¹² And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.

I want to ask you three questions this morning that I take from this passage.  The first is, 

1.  What might God be revealing to you?

      

How many of you find it easy and obvious to understand what God is revealing to you?  Anyone?  I think it is safe to say that we all find it difficult to discern what God is telling us in terms of his will.  I also think we tend to believe things were much easier for the Biblical characters when it came to discerning God’s direction, God’s will, and God’s plan.  I think we tend to believe that, for the Biblical characters, those answers were always as obvious as if they were written across the sky or revealed in some miraculous way, but for the most part, I think it was as difficult for them to understand as it is for us.  There were a few notable exceptions, of course, but many of the Biblical characters struggled to understand what exactly it was that God was revealing to them.  It is not easy to know or understand what God is doing in our lives, what God is leading us to do, or what God is prompting us to do, but we have to consider that question – what might God be revealing to you?

      

For the magi, they did not have all the answers for their journey, but they had enough information to get started on their journey. They knew a king was to be born – as they had seen his star – and that was about the extent of what they knew.  Here is what we learn from the way in which the magi proceeded – while God is always revealing something to us, it might not be as much information as we desire, but it is enough.  The magi set out on their journey with only a small amount of information, but they still began their journey.  I do not understand the why and the how of the manner in which God works, but I have come to understand that there is always a great deal of mystery involved in the way he works.

      

I’ve long believed it to be somewhat ironic that the magi are often referred to as wise men, because what they did – setting out on a journey of unknown duration, and with very little idea of where they were going or what the might encounter on the way – seems anything but wise.  How much was revealed to the magi?  Not very much, but that did not hinder them in their response to God revealing to them that they were to journey to Bethlehem.  We so often want every question answered, every i dotted, every t crossed, and every contingency anticipated and planned for before we strike out on a journey.  I don’t know what the magi knew when they set out on their journey, but I don’t think it was much.  They saw a star, a star that revealed to them an understanding that something very, very significant was about to take place.  There has been a great deal of speculation about the star, by the way, but here’s what I think about it – I do not think it was at all obvious.  I don’t believe it lit up the night sky or was a comet or anything that was so obvious that no one could possibly miss it.  No one but the magi seemed to know anything about the star. Herod and his court obviously knew nothing about it, and I’m sure he employed astrologers to be watching the heavens for signs.  Even though I used a picture on the screen with a bright, obvious star, I don’t think it was.  A lot of the time, God tends not to be so obvious in his work, but he was obvious enough to the magi that they understood he was revealing something to them.

2.  Where might God be leading you?

      

What God is revealing to you is the overall plan; where he is leading is the specifics of that plan, as it deals with the details of going from Point A to Point B.  As if it weren’t difficult enough to be able to come to the realization of what God is revealing, then we have to come to the realization of where God is leading us.  Piece of cake, right? 

      

I would really like to know more about the journey of the magi, wouldn’t you?  Did they pack as much as I do when I go on a trip?  If I travel for a week I feel as though I must take almost everything I own. How many magi were there?  (The idea that there were three is pure conjecture, and is based on the three gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  We have no idea how many magi there actually were).  Did they have a support team that traveled with them?  Where did they begin their journey?  What did the star look like?  How long did it take them to journey Jerusalem and then on to Bethlehem?  Did they tell anyone where they were going? The linguistic economy of the Bible always amazes me.  I would like to know so much more of the story, but we know enough.

      

I think a lot of people assume that, for ministers, the call we receive is obvious.  I will tell you that is not true; at least it wasn’t for me.  There was no flashing light or writing across the sky that made it clear to me, as much as I wished there had been.  God is always leading us somewhere, which is a reality we must never forget or take for granted.  God may change our path and our direction at different points in our lives. In fact, it might surprise you to know that I am surprised to still be in ministry.  While I eventually came to the realization that God was leading me to ministry, I did not know if it would be a life-long call or not.  I assumed I would serve as a vocational minister for some years and then, perhaps, God would call me to do something else.  There was, however, nothing that made my calling absolutely obvious.  At some point in time, I simply knew that ministry was what I was called to do.  Call it a gut feeling, an instinct, or whatever, but it was something of which I eventually became convinced God was leading me to act upon.  And when that call did finally become real and true to me, there were still a lot of details I had yet to understand.  What do I do about school?  Do I go on to seminary?  What was I supposed to do after I later dropped out of seminary and things had become very unclear to me?  How was I going to get back to seminary and support myself?  What would I do about churches to serve?  There were a lot of details to work out, I can assure you. And, in some ways, it was much easier then, because I think it’s so much easier to take risks when there is less at stake.  What did I put at risk when I was 21 years old and moving to Louisville with no place to live and no idea where I was going to sleep when I arrived?  (Two weeks before I was to arrive on campus, I received a letter saying I no longer had a dorm room.  The seminary had overbooked the dorms and I was one of the fortunate students who was bumped from their room.  In my youthful faith I did not hesitate to go on to campus anyway, even though I had nowhere to stay and really did expect to sleep in my car for a few nights, at least.  Fortunately, when I arrived on campus, and went to the housing office, some friends of mine – who had already settled on campus – discovered my plight and left a note for me in the office, inviting me to stay with them until I found a place to live.  God does indeed make provision).  Really, what was I risking?  Not very much.  I had little to nothing to lose, but over the years, I became much more risk averse because I stood to lose so much more.  We become more risk averse as we have jobs, homes, and families to care for and support.  The magi could easily have rationalized staying home by saying you know, that seems like a great adventure, and we should take that journey, but we’re on the tenure track at the university now, and we don’t want to put that in jeopardy.  We also have mortgages, and we just signed book deals, so no, we can’t go anywhere, especially when we don’t even know where we’re going or how long it will take us and how we will even know when we’ve arrived at where we’re supposed to be going!

      

The magi might also have worried about the reaction of other people, who may have counseled them to be more thoughtful, to not do something so rash or foolish.  They might have been told to not go overboard with what they believe.  Some of the advice that we receive, while well-meaning, is not very conducive to faith.  People don’t always know what to do with those who take risks of faith, like the magi.  It contradicts the societal narrative that the purpose of life is simply to get a good education, get a good job, make a lot of money, buy a house with a white picket fence, join a few clubs and do your civic duty.  All that is well and good, but I would say there is more to life and I think the magi would say so too, because they took the risk of faith. They decided that the risk of faith, the stepping into the unknown, revealed a greater purpose to life than simply landing a good position teaching astronomy at the local university.

3.  What might God be asking you to do?

      

There is something very odd to me about this story and it is this – I find it odd that after traveling so far, after the magi came to Jesus, presented their gifts, worshipped him, they simply returned home.  Does that seem a bit strange to you?  It seems rather incomplete to me.  After traveling what was presumably a lengthy distance, then staying for what seems to be a very brief time, they turn around and return home.  It just seems rather incomplete to me.  So much went into their trip – the planning, the traveling, the time, the resources, the risk, and the eventual arrival to see the king of all creation, the one upon whom all human history turns – that to pack up and go home seems very anticlimactic to me.  Surely there must have been much that they considered as they returned home. What would king Jesus mean to them?  It could not be possible, in my opinion, for the magi to leave Bethlehem unchanged.  What would Jesus mean to them?  After all, the birth of a king is no small matter, because a king lays claim to much – to a kingdom and its people, for starters.  What would they do with the entrance of this king into their lives?  Whatever plans the magi had for their lives, those plans were interrupted at least for a time.  Those plans were interrupted at least long enough to take the trip to Bethlehem and back. We don’t know how long a period of time that was, but it was most likely some number of months.  When they returned home, certainly their lives were changed, and who knows what they came to understand in terms of what God wanted to do with their lives.

      

Each of us has our plan for life, but what might God be asking you to do?  That’s a question not just for the magi, or for ministers; it is a question for every person to answer.  Peter, Andrew, James, and John might never have considered that question until Jesus called them away from their fishing boats and fishing nets and to follow him. Abraham might not have thought much about that question until God called him to leave his home and to go to a land that he would show him.  Abraham was like the magi in that he did not know where his eventual destination would lead him; he simply knew he was to rise up and go.  The reality is, we can get very comfortable in our lives, going along each day doing our thing, going to work, watching ball games on TV, working in the yard, and not give much of a thought to the fact that God has something for us to do in life.  How often do we consider that?  How often do we wonder what it might be that God is calling us to do?  Do you think about that question?  Do you have any idea of what it is that God wants you to do? That is our task, and we must keep our eyes, ears, hearts, and minds open to the leading of God.  God does, after all, often speak in a still small voice.  Sometimes God speaks with a star, a star that is not seen by everyone except those who were supposed to see it.  What is God revealing to you?  Where is God leading you?  And what is God asking you to do?  Please take those questions to heart this Advent season.