Monthly Archives: December 2025

Sermons

Heart & Hope [OR When is a Cookie a Christmas Cookie?]

 

**sermon art: Rob’s Christmas Cookies Ready to Deliver

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church—December 24, 2025, Christmas Eve, The Nativity of Our Lord

[sermon begins after the Luke reading; the Isaiah reading is at the end of the sermon]

Luke 2:1-20 In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2 This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3 All went to their own towns to be registered. 4 Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5 He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 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 in the guest room.
8 Now in that same region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,
14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16 So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph and the child lying in the manger. 17 When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child, 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them, 19 and Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told them.

[sermon begins]

My husband is arguably a contender for king of the chocolate chip cookie. I know, it’s not the classic Christmas cookie per se but when is a cookie a Christmas Cookie? This is akin to the age-old question about whether Die Hard is or is not a Christmas movie.[1] Many years ago, Rob modified and remodified a chocolate chip cookie recipe and began baking these massive cookies for his clients at Christmas. Don’t bother asking, he does not divulge his secret recipe. When our kids were small, he would take them along on the adventure of cookie delivery.

Rob thought the pandemic would end the tradition, but his clients set even more hope on receiving the home-baked, ooey-gooey, chocolatey goodness. They start asking about the cookies in November. Our kitchen was a one-man flurry of flour and chocolate, hand-squeezed into dough, scooped onto rotating cookie sheets for many hours totaling 22 dozen cookies, before delivering to clients. Are they Christmas cookies? You decide.

Rob’s cookies are a bit like the Christmas story itself. There’s a hefty heap of mystery with a daring dash of hope. There’s breathless anticipation. And there are a lot of people paying attention to the final creation.

Christmas engages our imaginations beyond the cookies and kitschy décor that we know and love. One Christmas miracle is that we keep returning to the hope-filled story of a very young woman, an adoptive father, and a baby asleep on the hay. Our return to this story and the hope we feel is almost more mysterious than the mystery of God showing up in a baby. Perhaps it’s because he’s more than a baby. At Jesus’ birth, the angel announced, “good news of great joy for the all the people.” In the baby Jesus, the mystery of the good news unfolded through his adulthood right on through today.

Isaiah wrote about a child born to us—a child who counsels, who is everlasting, and who brings peace. That child sounds like someone worth welcoming and worth knowing. As it turns out, that child sounds like a Savior worth waiting for with breathless anticipation. Perhaps it’s because, if you live long enough, it’s obvious we need some saving. We need saving from ourselves and from the harm we inflict on one another even when we’re trying to do good. Why is it that we do not do the good we want but do the very things we know aren’t good?[2] We need something, that’s for sure. The self-help project isn’t working. A community of hope may be just the thing.

In the Gospel of Luke, the angels sang a starlit announcement to the shepherds who were ready to hear the good news of this child’s arrival and eager to see it for themselves. Maybe they needed to be saved from themselves and each other too. Their awe of the angel encounter inspired hope amid breathless anticipation. Who knows what they were expecting during their hasty run from the field to the manger side, turning up at the manger sweaty and out of breath. Words tumbling out as they talk over each other to tell the story about the angel in the field. Mary and Joseph looking at the shepherds, the baby, and each other with exhausted amazed eyes, wondering what in heaven’s name is going on.

The angel told the shepherds that the sign of the Savior will be found in “a child, wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” Their anticipation, hope and haste turned into rapt attention towards this brand new little one. It fascinates me that the baby Jesus was wrapped in bands of cloth when he was born and the crucified Jesus was wrapped in linen cloth when he died. The bands of cloth around the baby tease our memory with what’s to come. Revisiting the Christmas story each year is worth another go round as our attention turns toward what this new life could possibly mean to our lives.

Here’s one thing that it means. Just down the street, on donated land from this congregation, Augustana Homes were completed by Habitat for Humanity and hundreds of volunteers from around the city. Affordable homes that hold hope in the form of three-to-four-bedroom townhomes for working families to call home. Going from a baby born in a manger because there was no room in the inn, to families who have recently signed closing paperwork for homeownership, may be a leap of faith, but it also makes perfect sense when told alongside the Christmas story.

On Christmas, hesitant hearts dare to hope regardless of the many reasons to end up at church on Christmas Eve.

Maybe it’s your habit or annual tradition.

Maybe it’s easier to be here with family than to be somewhere else without family.

Maybe your family is fractured, and you wandered in wondering if community can be found.

Maybe your faith calls you here in gratitude.

Maybe your life has become such a hot mess that church on Christmas Eve feels like a last-ditch attempt to find a way through.

Maybe the collective effervescence of singing together fills your heart.

Or maybe the peace of candlelight during Silent Night is good for your soul.

Whatever draws you here, you are cradled in this sacred space with the thousands of people who have gathered across time in joy, grief, and hope. Sinner-saints who gather to remind each other of the hope we share despite the anxiety of life, the disarray of politics, and the competition of culture. We are a community of hope, who support each other through suffering as we celebrate our joys and serve with our neighbors in compassion and action. We remind each other that God’s welcome through this congregation includes everyone. Being human is complicated. Being yourself shouldn’t be. You are welcome here.

If even that is too much to get our hearts around, let’s try our hands. When you come forward for communion, your hands held together and facing up make a manger for the bread given to you, imperfectly cradling Jesus’ presence as we eat. Despite our imperfections or, just maybe, because of them, the perfect presence of Jesus dwells within us, the holy One who taught us that there is nothing we can do or not do to make God love us any more or any less. This is definitely good news of great joy for all people, which also means that it is good news for you.

Like Mary, we treasure the story that the angels sang, and the shepherds told while we ponder the mystery in our hearts. The Christmas mystery inspires our anticipation, regardless of how breathless it may be, and draws our wonder to this ancient story, making it new again each year. We’re scooped into God’s timeless story and delivered to the world that God so loves. A world in need of hope-filled hearts. A world in need of a Savior who embodies everlasting peace. Merry Christmas!

__________________________________________________________

[1] Jacob Stolworthy. Is Die Hard a Christmas Movie? The Independent on December 22, 2025 Is Die Hard a Christmas film? | Culture | Independent TV

[2] Romans 7:19

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Isaiah 9:2-6

The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness—
on them light has shined.
3 You have multiplied exultation;
you have increased its joy;
they rejoice before you
as with joy at the harvest,
as people exult when dividing plunder.
4 For the yoke of their burden
and the bar across their shoulders,
the rod of their oppressor,
you have broken as on the day of Midian.
5 For all the boots of the tramping warriors
and all the garments rolled in blood
shall be burned as fuel for the fire.
6 For a child has been born for us,
a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders,
and he is named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
7 Great will be his authority,
and there shall be endless peace
for the throne of David and his kingdom.
He will establish and uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time onward and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.

Good News, Preaching

Impossible Hope [OR Joseph is Our Guy] Matthew 1:18-25

**sermon art: Joseph by Laura James (2000)

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on December 21, 2025

[sermon begins after three short Bible readings – hang in there]

Matthew 1:18-25 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be pregnant from the Holy Spirit. 19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to divorce her quietly. 20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:
23 “Look, the virgin shall become pregnant and give birth to a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel,”
which means, “God is with us.” 24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife 25 but had no marital relations with her until she had given birth to a son, and he named him Jesus.

Isaiah 7:10-16  The Lord spoke to Ahaz, saying, 11 “Ask a sign of the Lord your God; let it be deep as Sheol or high as heaven.” 12 But Ahaz said, “I will not ask, and I will not put the Lord to the test.” 13 Then Isaiah said, “Hear then, O house of David! Is it too little for you to weary mortals that you weary my God also? 14 Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel. 15 He shall eat curds and honey by the time he knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good. 16 For before the child knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land before whose two kings you are in dread will be deserted.”

Romans 1:1-7 Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God, 2 which he promised beforehand through his prophets in the holy scriptures, 3 the gospel concerning his Son, who was descended from David according to the flesh 4 and was declared to be Son of God with power according to the spirit of holiness by resurrection from the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord, 5 through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the gentiles for the sake of his name, 6 including you who are called to belong to Jesus Christ,
7 To all God’s beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints:
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

[sermon begins]

 

O come, o come, Emmanuel.   We sang from longing hearts of an impossible hope as we gathered for worship today. We sang the seven names of the One for whom we wait during Advent. All seven come from the first several chapters of the Bible’s book of Isaiah and are traditionally sung in the last seven days of Advent—one per day. The prophet Isaiah lived about 700 years before Jesus at a time when the Assyrians were gobbling up territories for their empire and had begun a slow march towards Judah and Jerusalem. The poignant poetry of the hymn ties us to these ancient Jewish roots of impossible hope in the face of overwhelming odds.[1] The impossible hope of ancient people is invoked in Paul’s letter to the Roman church and the reading from Matthew’s gospel.

Paul greets the Roman church with the words of the prophet Isaiah who referred to servants of God’s household bringing the good news of God’s restoration.[2] As God’s servant, Paul expands the ancient impossible hope of the Jews to include everyone else, a.k.a. the gentiles. Us. In Advent, we remember that the birth of Jesus is not the beginning a story but the continuation of an ancient one birthed by Sarah and Abraham, freed by Moses, and led by negligent kings challenged by pesky prophets like Isaiah.

Matthew opens his gospel with a genealogy of Jesus right up through Joseph. Then, there’s a BIG wrinkle. Mary is pregnant with a growing, impossible hope. Over time, we’ve learned to tell this complicated story in a simple way. So simple that even a child can tell it. Last week our young friends here at Augustana put on costumes, learned their timing, and preached the story of Jesus through fun and funny lines. Their telling of this good news was a mash-up from the gospels of Luke and Matthew and called, “The Newest Angel,” including Joseph’s surprise at Mary’s pregnancy and how he planned to unburden himself from it.

The gospel writer gives the summary:

“Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.”

That’s it. Nothing flashy. But there is someone who gets a newsflash. Joseph. His betrothed, Mary, is pregnant and he is not the father. His hopes crushed. Confronted with the news, his initial plan is legal. Dismiss Mary in divorce. Send her on her way quietly, saving her from public disgrace but shattering her private hopes. Joseph justifies his position. Not only in his own mind but in the eyes of the law. No harm, no foul. He is good to go. Legal. Justified. Resolved.

“But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream.”[3]

The angel, the Lord’s messenger, thwarts Joseph’s justified resolve and instills hope once more. It’s rough when a good resolve swirls down the drain. Resolve feels good. It feels right and powerful, knowing what to do. Powerlessness? Not so much. Here’s a clue to part of the good news today. If there’s room for Joseph in the nativity story, then there is room for me, and there is room for you.[4]

Our personal stories are stories within stories. Many of us have stories that sound either too good to be true or too mind-bending to be believed. If we were sitting in a small space with just a few of us and enough time, we’d hear surprising stories that connect us in their depth and in their truth. Stories that create who we are and how we move through the world but sometimes surprise even ourselves the telling. How many of us get used to telling our strange tales of impossible hope that have become normal in our own lives but surprise other people. Jesus’ birth story is along this line for Christians. We tell a strange tale, my friends. We celebrate it in sacred scripture. We sing about it. We display nativities representing Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. But it’s a strange one.

The good news is that there’s room for us in the Nativity story because Joseph’s first instinct was to resolve a problem on his own. But then he is invited into grace. The angel tells Joseph to take Mary as his wife and to name the baby conceived by the Holy Spirit, “Jesus.” The angel’s annunciation in Matthew’s gospel is to Joseph and not to Mary.[5] The angel tells an unexpected, mysterious story. A story that doesn’t amount to anything he can share with friends as justification for staying with Mary, especially considering the vague paternity. And, still, he obeys the angel and extends grace to Mary.

Joseph obeys and offers Mary grace without any knowledge of what this means. Just around the corner, what he can’t see is the visit from the magi from the east. Strange people from a faraway place who come to visit Jesus with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.[6] He can’t see the magi’s decision to thwart King Herod.[7] He can’t see King Herod’s edict to slaughter all infants and toddlers less than two years old because they may or may not be the rumored Messiah.[8] He can’t see his and Mary’s escape and refuge in Egypt.[9] There’s so much that Joseph can’t see when he agrees to take Mary as his wife and name the baby Jesus.

James Harnish, a long-time Christian pastor, recalls a story from when he was in college. He went to see a professor with a very intelligent friend who had a lot of questions about his faith and was frustrated by the simplistic answers people gave him. His friend asked the professor, “How can I [follow] Christ when I don’t know all that it will mean?” The professor answered, “None of us knows all that it’s going to mean, but we know enough [to follow Christ] and we spend the rest of our lives finding out what it means.”[10]

Joseph is obedient without an “i” dotted or “t” crossed. Some of us see ourselves in Joseph because, like him, our resolve to do what we want can be thwarted by grace. We do not save ourselves from ourselves. The name “Jesus” means “God saves” or “God is salvation.”[11] He will be born and named Jesus “for he will save his people from their sins.” Week-after-week we scratch the surface of what this means for us. Some of us wonder about intellectual problems raised by scripture that don’t jive with our experience or knowledge. Some of us struggle with the mystery and want it solved so that then we can have faith. Some of us are drawn to action on behalf of people who need help but don’t know where to start or how to keep going. Some of us long for an answer to suffering. For all of us in those moments, Joseph is our guy.

In light of Joseph’s lack of information, his obedience to the angel’s wild request is shocking, confusing, and disturbing.[12] If we let it, our familiarity with Jesus’ birth story means that our quiet, matter-of-fact way of telling it can oversimplify what God is doing all around us. God’s audacity in slipping into powerless, vulnerable skin is echoed by Joseph’s powerless vulnerability as well as our own. Like Joseph, we spend the rest of our lives figuring out what it means to follow Jesus. Like Joseph, we watch, wait, and wonder as Emmanuel, God with us, shows up. Our familiarity can oversimplify our Advent waiting, too. In Advent, we remember that Jesus’ birth is the continuation of an ancient story. Jesus Christ has come.[13] Also, in Advent we know that his birth isn’t the end of the story.[14] Jesus Christ will come.[15] Advent is a pregnant pause as we look ahead with impossible hope for God’s renewal, restoration, and peace by the grace of God.[16]

_______________________________________________________

[1] Joel B. Green, Senior Professor of New Testament Interpretation, Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, CA. Commentary on Romans 1:1-7 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary for December 21, 2025.

[2] Isaiah 40:9, 52:7

[3] Matthew 1:20

[4] James Harnish. When God Comes Down. (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2012), 20.

[5] Eugene Park, Professor of New Testament San Francisco Theological Seminary of the University of Redlands San Anselmo, CA. Commentary on Matthew 1:18-25 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary for December 21, 2025.

[6] Matthew 2:1-11

[7] Matthew 1:8 and 12

[8] Matthew 2:16-18

[9] Matthew 2:13-15

[10] Harnish, 23.

[11] Park, ibid.

[12] Harnish, 19.

[13] Fleming Rutledge. Advent: The Once and Future Coming of Jesus Christ (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing Co, 2018), 266.

[14] Green, ibid.

[15] Rutledge, ibid.

[16] Ibid.

__________________________________________________________

 

Preaching, Sermons

Longing for the Peaceable Kingdom [OR Advent Calendars are for Everyone]

**sermon art: Peaceable Kingdom by Debbie Kingston Baker

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on December 7, 2025

[sermon begins after the Bible reading; two more Bible readings from Romans and Isaiah are at the end of the sermon]

Matthew 3:1-10 In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, 2 “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” 3 This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,

 “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord;
make his paths straight.’ ”
4 Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. 5 Then Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region around the Jordan were going out to him, 6 and they were baptized by him in the River Jordan, confessing their sins.
7 But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming for his baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? 8 Therefore, bear fruit worthy of repentance, 9 and do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 10 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.
11 “I baptize you with water for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is more powerful than I, and I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12 His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
 [sermon begins]

 

Advent includes the four Sundays before the Christmas welcome of the sweet baby Jesus. It’s a time of waiting, of anticipation and longing. We have rituals that count upwards from the first Sunday in Advent, to the second Sunday, and so on, lighting one candle, then two. Advent calendars often begin on December 1st, daily building our anticipation for Christmas with things like pet treats or chocolate or craft beer.[1] You name it and there’s likely an advent calendar for it. German Lutherans began the tradition a couple hundred years ago with candle lighting and chalk lines. And, after World War II, paper calendars lifted people’s spirits across the globe. As our rituals lift the spirits, what in the blue blazes is John the Baptist doing here? And why is he so angry about it?

Let’s just say that John the Baptist isn’t someone you’d put on our Sunday morning greeter ministry. As Paul writes in his letter to the Roman church, we welcome one another just as Christ welcomed us. That welcome is evident walking into our church. It’s evident from the welcome to holy communion that includes everyone. Yes, even you. We regularly examine our welcome from multiple perspectives so that we are actually and authentically welcoming. If all of that is true, then what is John the Baptist doing here with his name-calling and fearmongering? What kind of welcome is this on the second Sunday in Advent?

To understand John, it helps to understand the Biblical prophet Elijah who lived about 900 years before Jesus and John. Elijah was one of two Biblical characters who avoided death by being “taken up into heaven.”[2] He railed against idolatrous prophets, malevolent kings, and neglectful leaders who failed in their religious commitments to their people.[3] Elijah’s reappearance was expected to herald God’s messiah. People were longing for him to return for just this reason. John the Baptist called the religious leaders to repentance as Elijah once did. The people swarming out to see John and be baptized by him knew enough about Elijah to be curious. They also knew enough to have their own doubts about the state of their world. John’s challenge against the powerful who regularly let them down resonated with them, too. We tend to think of him as a peculiar rando out in the desert, but his message was similar to other preachers of his time. He was very popular in part because the people were tired of the world around them. Tired of greed, power, and disadvantages baked into their daily lives. They were ready for God’s promised Messiah to come.

And who was that Messiah to be? According to the prophet Isaiah, the king will come from the line of King David whose father was Jesse. We’re busy with our Advent calendars and simultaneously putting up Christmas trees. In the Isaiah reading, the tree is a stump.[4] A stump in the Christmas tree holder would be a little more difficult to put ornaments on, wouldn’t it? From the stump, the family tree of Jesse, came the great and beloved King David. And from King David’s descendants will come the Messiah who is savior and king, who will judge the poor with righteousness, and “decide with equity for the oppressed of the earth.”

And how will we know the ideal king has arrived? Last Sunday, Isaiah celebrated the ringing of swords beaten into farm equipment which is echoed in our culture by the ringing of Jingle Bells through malls and halls.[5]

This Sunday, the king’s vision is the peaceable kingdom.

+ The wolf shall live with the lamb; the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the lion will feed together, and a little child shall lead them.

+ The cow and the bear shall graze; their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

+The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.[6]

What’s your favorite part of the peaceable kingdom? Mine is that its beauty is the seeming impossibility of it.[7] The peaceable kingdom is the opposite of our experience in the world. You may know the Darwinian expression, “Survival of the fittest.” In other words, survival comes from strength and predation. We’ve spent centuries taming those survival instincts, so that we can live beyond the vision of evolutionary biologists, only to find ourselves at odds with each other in every possible humanly way.[8]

Isaiah’s poetry explores the tragedy of our human nature by showing us its opposite in the vision of the peaceable kingdom. Christians call the tragic element “sin.”[9] John the Baptist called the tragic element “chaff” that needs to burn away so the wheat can be enjoyed. Individually and collectively our tragic efforts turn us towards terrible things—war, theft, greed, hatred, bullying, dehumanization, and more. The promise of the gospel is that God has a solution for the tragic ends we have on repeat. His name is Jesus.

The Apostle Paul’s letter to the Roman church was written about 20 years after Jesus’ lived. He is talking to the fledgling Jewish and gentile Christians of the church in a way that echoes Isaiah’s peaceable kingdom. (Gentile means not Jewish.) These new Christians were struggling to be church together from their different cultural backgrounds and assumptions. Paul reminds them that harmony is centered by God’s steadfastness and encouragement according to Christ Jesus for the glory of God. God is the reference point and the guide is Jesus. Paul taps the image of Jesse’s root in his letter to the Roman church. He expands the Jewish expectation and messianic hope to include non-Jews. The ruler will rise to rule the gentiles and “in him the gentiles shall hope.”

Paul uses the word “welcome” but welcome may be too tame a translation for what he means. He’s asking more of them. To bear one another. To get along. Ultimately, he’s asking those Roman church folks to fully accept and embrace each other across lines that once seemed hard and fast. Cultural lines that no longer separate them from their siblings in Christ. Paul wrote, “For I tell you that Christ has become a servant of the [Jews] on behalf of the truth of God in order that he might confirm the promises given to the ancestors and that the gentiles might glorify God for his mercy.” The cultural divisions highlighted in the Roman church hold up a mirror for our culture today. For them the dividing line was Jew and non-Jew. We could write a list a mile long of the divisions plaguing us today.

The festive anticipation of Advent calendars overlays a deeper longing. As we lit the Advent wreath at the beginning of worship today, we sang a song filled with that longing. We sang for justice, for freedom, and for mercy. We sang for wisdom, for courage, and for comfort. We sang for God to be near us in sorrow, in grief, in weakness, and in fear. Our song is a prayer as we ask God to keep God’s promise to be with us. Another name for “God with us” is Emmanuel. So we sing again in longing, anticipation and hope, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.”
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[1] Show Me the Doors: Why There Is An Advent Calendar for Absolutely Everything. The Economist. December 2, 2025. Why there is an Advent calendar for absolutely everything

[2] Enoch is the other one.

[3] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Podcast commentary on the Bible readings for December 7, 2025. #1055: Second Sunday of Advent – December 07, 2025 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[4] Rolf Jacobson, Professor of Old Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Podcast commentary on the Bible readings for December 7, 2025. #1055: Second Sunday of Advent – December 07, 2025 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[5] Ibid.

[6] Isaiah 11:6-8

[7] Jacobson, ibid.

[8] Skinner, ibid.

[9] Jacobson, ibid.

__________________________________________________

Romans 15:5-13 Whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope. 5 May the God of steadfastness and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus, 6 so that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

  7 Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. 8 For I tell you that Christ has become a servant of the circumcised on behalf of the truth of God in order that he might confirm the promises given to the ancestors 9 and that the gentiles might glorify God for his mercy. As it is written,
“Therefore I will confess you among the gentiles
and sing praises to your name”;
10 and again he says,
“Rejoice, O gentiles, with his people”;
11 and again,
“Praise the Lord, all you gentiles,
and let all the peoples praise him”;
12 and again Isaiah says,
“The root of Jesse shall come,
the one who rises to rule the gentiles;
in him the gentiles shall hope.”
13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

 

Isaiah 11:1-10

 1 A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse,
and a branch shall grow out of his roots.
2 The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him,
the spirit of wisdom and understanding,
the spirit of counsel and might,
the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.
3 His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord.
He shall not judge by what his eyes see
or decide by what his ears hear,
4 but with righteousness he shall judge for the poor
and decide with equity for the oppressed of the earth;
he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.
5 Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist
and faithfulness the belt around his loins.
6 The wolf shall live with the lamb;
the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
the calf and the lion will feed together,
and a little child shall lead them.
7 The cow and the bear shall graze;
their young shall lie down together;
and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
8 The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp,
and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.
9 They will not hurt or destroy
on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea.
10 On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious.