Look Up And Raise Your Heads...

Have you ever started something and, halfway through, realized you’re not really doing that thing anymore? Or, have you ever begun a new thing with momentum and inspiration only to realize that the surrounding world didn’t get the memo and it’s you that’s left to fight and decide to keep something sacred and a priority?

That’s kind of how I feel about Advent. It started so strong. So much absorbing, so much taking in... And then, as I told my small group, Satan must have found out about my intentional advent and began to concoct a plan to deter me. But, unlike the cardboard calendar with its boxes untouched, all is not lost if I’ve done more meandering than marching in these last few weeks. Life has a funny way of happening and; truly, I’ve caught a glimpse of how my plans are not His Plans and how God has intended this advent for something far different.

Most people hate the word discipline. To many, it conjures up thoughts of rules, punishments, and various other violations of what the self wills. And though the truth is that discipline often takes effort, maybe pain, and a death of the personal will, the end result of discipline is comfort. When life is crazy, when my walk with God is feeling off, when sin abounds and it feels like I’ve lost control, I find myself walking back to discipline to begin again.

Discipline, to me, is sort of a promise. A promise with action steps. A promise that says, if I genuinely lay down my will, desire, etc. for one moment in prayer, in study, in journaling... Then I have a chance to taste and see and be renewed again. To me, the spiritual disciplines are this safe harbor where my ship can rest, be restored, and go out again. There are promises from God that I find challenging to believe, but the promise that seems to be apparent is that when we draw near to God, then He draws near to us too. Amen?

In the midst of searching out discipline and casting off the chains of the temporal, I also crave to be in the classics. There is a sweet spot with the saints that have both lived and died in Christ and their words shape us in ways that others can’t. So, when I was searching for some words to prompt me and my thoughts at the onset of this weekend, I turned to Bonhoeffer (No surprise there...) and found this advent gem...

“Let’s not deceive ourselves. “Your redemption is drawing near” (Luke 21:28), whether we know it or not, and the only question is: Are we going to let it come to us too, or are we going to resist it? Are we going to join in this movement that comes down from heaven to earth, or are we going to close ourselves off? Christmas is coming—whether it is with us or without us depends on each and every one of us.
Such a true Advent happening now creates something different from the anxious, petty, depressed, feeble Christian spirit that we see again and again, and that again and again wants to make Christianity contemptible. This becomes clear from the two powerful commands that introduce our text: “Look up and raise your heads” (Luke 21:28 RSV). Advent creates people, new people. We too are supposed to become new people in Advent. Look up, you whose gaze is fixed on this earth, who are spellbound by the little events and changes on the face of the earth. Look up to these words, you who have turned away from heaven disappointed. Look up, you whose eyes are heavy with tears and who are heavy and who are crying over the fact that the earth has gracelessly torn us away. Look up, you who, burdened with guilt, cannot lift your eyes. Look up, your redemption is drawing near. Something different from what you see daily will happen. Just be aware, be watchful, wait just another short moment. Wait and something quite new will break over you: God will come”

–Dietrich Bonhoeffer


Look up and raise your heads dear friends. Our redemption is drawing near.