Sometimes darkness becomes the routine—you get up in a strange room and bruise your shins because you can’t see what’s in the way. Then the smallest nightlight changes everything, revealing a safe path with just a few gentle watts. Many carry an inner night like that: the news cycle, the calendar’s pressure, a diagnosis, a strained relationship, unanswered prayer, or a quiet disappointment you barely whisper. Into that kind of midnight, God doesn’t wait for you to find the switch; a great Light dawns because God loves you too much to leave you in the shadows. Like the miners who saw a thin beam and knew rescue was on the way, even a glimmer of Christ’s presence reorients your steps. Today, dare to notice the light that has already begun to rise over your night [51:51].
Isaiah 9:2,6 — Those who had been traveling under heavy darkness finally see morning break; in their shadowed land, light rises. For a child comes to us—a son given—and the weight of rule rests on him. He will be known for wise counsel, divine strength, enduring care, and peace that lasts.
Reflection: Where has darkness become your “new normal” this month, and what one simple habit today—like lighting a candle and praying for two minutes before bed—will welcome Christ’s dawn into that specific place?
God’s love rarely comes the way we expect. We might script a warrior on a stallion, but God arrives as a baby laid in straw. Love chooses vulnerability over force and gentleness over spectacle. The world is changed by love before it is changed by power, and that is still how Jesus comes to you. Welcome Him by practicing the same posture—soft answers, open hands, and patient presence in the ordinary. This is how heaven’s strength takes root on earth [54:52].
Luke 2:10–12 — The messenger reassured them: Don’t be afraid; I’m bringing joyful news for everyone. Today in David’s town a Savior has been born for you—the Messiah, the Lord. Here’s how you’ll recognize him: you’ll find a newborn wrapped up and lying in a feed trough.
Reflection: In what conversation or decision this week are you tempted to push or control, and how could you choose one concrete act of gentle love instead (a listening question, an apology, or a patient silence)?
The hope of our future does not rest on us finally getting our act together. Scripture calls it the zeal of the Lord—God’s burning, active, covenant love that moves history, not just sentiment. No army, diplomacy, or moral makeover can do what God’s energized commitment will accomplish. That means you can work faithfully without the crushing weight of thinking it all depends on you. Rest your soul in His promise, then take the next obedient step with courage. God’s passion, not your perfection, is the engine of redemption [57:37].
Isaiah 9:7 — His peace-filled reign will keep growing and will not end; he will sustain justice and righteousness forever on David’s throne. The Lord’s intense, determined love is what will bring this to pass.
Reflection: Name one area where you feel pressure to make everything turn out right; what is one practical way you can entrust that situation to God’s zeal—perhaps a brief daily surrender prayer before taking the next small faithful step?
In the desert, stargazers use red lights so their eyes can adjust to the night and see what is really there. So much harsh, ambient glare—noise, hurry, screens—keeps you from noticing Christ’s quiet light. Advent retrains your vision: small candles of hope, peace, joy, and love slowly brighten the room of your life. Choose practices that dim the glare—five minutes of silence, a whispered prayer at meals, unhurried conversation, a gentle walk—and you will begin to see the Light that has been shining all along. Let your eyes adjust to grace [16:40].
John 1:5 — The Light keeps shining within the darkness, and the darkness has never been able to smother or grasp it.
Reflection: What “ambient glare” most keeps you from seeing Christ—news, notifications, hurry, or noise—and when today will you turn it off for ten minutes to let your eyes adjust to grace?
A weary world needs weary people who have discovered hope. A broken world needs broken people who have tasted grace. A loveless world needs imperfect people who know they are loved and are learning to love others in the same way. You don’t have to be loud; you just have to be available, letting God’s love move through ordinary conversations and small acts of kindness. Look for unexpected places—a neighbor’s need, a coworker’s heaviness, a family tension—and be a gentle sign that rescue is coming. Christ’s light spreads, one humble offering at a time [00:39].
1 John 4:11–12 — Since God has loved us like this, we’re called to love one another. None of us has seen God, but when we love, God is tangibly present among us, and His love reaches its full expression in us.
Reflection: Who is one person in your path who needs a quiet sign of God’s love, and what specific small act will you offer this week (a meal, a note, a ride, an invitation to pray)?
On this fourth Sunday of Advent we lit the candle of love and confessed together that the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. I told the story of fumbling through a dark Airbnb and twice slamming my shin into an unseen table—until a small nightlight changed everything. Even a tiny light reorients a room; so much more does the light of Christ reorient a life. Isaiah spoke to a people for whom darkness had become normal, not a momentary stumble but a way of walking. Advent invites us to believe that a dawn has broken—not because we improved ourselves or found a switch—but because God refused to leave us in the shadows.
I recalled the Chilean miners who said the first thin beam of light didn’t rescue them yet, but it told them that rescue was coming. That is the shape of Advent hope: a light that promises what it will soon deliver. And that light arrives in a form we would not script—a child in a manger. Love chooses vulnerability over force, presence over spectacle, and changes the world by love before it changes the world by power. The peace announced is not mere calm but shalom—wholeness, restoration, flourishing—and Isaiah insists it comes by the zeal of the Lord: God’s energized, covenant faithfulness accomplishing what we cannot.
So I offered three ways to walk in this light. First, let God’s love illuminate your shadows; it may not be loud or dramatic, but it is greater than the darkness you carry. Second, look for God in unexpected places—the ordinary conversations, the small kindness, the gift of a neighbor—because the manger keeps happening. Third, let love flow through you; a weary world is helped not by the invincible, but by weary people who have found hope, and broken people who have tasted grace. Think of the red-light flashlights used for stargazing: your eyes must adjust to gentle light, or you’ll miss what’s there. In a culture of glare and noise, train your eyes for the quiet, resilient glow of Christ. At the Table, we received that light again—Emmanuel meeting us with forgiveness and strength—and we welcomed new brothers and sisters to walk with us in it. May that light lead us into Christmas and the new year.
So, the third morning, I came up with this idea. There was, you know, there's little restrooms throughout the house. And they all had those little, you know, night lights that you can plug in. And so, I unplugged it from one of the restrooms and went and put it down in one of the little outlets across from that table. And so, it's amazing that even just the little smallest glimmer of light can change the entire experience of a room, right? Just a little bit of light can show us the path. [00:46:13] (30 seconds) #SmallLightBigDifference
It comes as a baby. It comes as a baby, born to a young mother in a backwater town, laid in a feed trough. It doesn't come the way that we expect it. You know, people were paying careful attention and reading the prophet Isaiah. Maybe they would have known. But all they knew was darkness. [00:53:24] (30 seconds) #MessiahAsBaby
So, he talks about peace. It's not the peace of no conflict, but it's the peace of that Hebrew word shalom, which means wholeness, fullness, and flourishing. And friends, one of the other things that Advent does is to remind us of Christ coming again. We are still waiting. We are still looking. We are still working together for God's kingdom on earth. In Jesus, God isn't just giving us forgiveness, as wonderful and as important as forgiveness is. God is giving us a whole new way to live. [00:55:41] (45 seconds) #ShalomWholenessAndFlourishing
Now, there's a word that Isaiah uses there that we translate zeal. And zeal is a word that we kind of know. We know what zealots are. We've heard of zeal. But what does that mean? The zeal of the Lord will accomplish this. Well, zeal in Hebrew comes from a root that conveys intense emotion that moves someone to action. Intense emotion that's going to move someone to action. It's not passive at all. It is energized commitment. [00:56:26] (37 seconds) #ZealMeansAction
Intense emotion that's going to move someone to action. It's not passive at all. It is energized commitment. So, it's a kingdom not built on fear. It's a kingdom not built on scarcity or achievement, but on love that mends, rescues, restores, and reconciles. And he says the zeal of the Lord will accomplish this. [00:56:51] (29 seconds) #EnergizedCommitment
And so, when he says this, when he's writing to, you know, those people in Israel, when he's saying this, he is saying that the zeal of the Lord will accomplish this. This will not happen because Israel suddenly gets its act together. The zeal of the Lord will accomplish this. It doesn't mean that it's going to depend on a military power and this big warrior that's going to come up, or diplomacy, or a moral reform. It will happen because of God's zeal, because God is passionately, covenantally committed to his purposes. [00:57:20] (38 seconds) #ZealOfTheLord
It will happen because of God's zeal, because God is passionately, covenantally committed to his purposes. And so, what does that mean for us here in this season? You know, we've come to the end of Advent. We've talked through these verses from Isaiah. What lies ahead of us is the event that we celebrate each year. Christmas Eve, Christmas morning. [00:57:46] (33 seconds) #GodsZealPrevails
This fourth Sunday in Advent, this last time that we're together before we celebrate the birth, would be a beautiful time for us to experience this sacrament together, realizing that God is moving and present in those sacraments to remind us of this relationship that we are striving to live out. And so, we come to the table this morning. May this be a gift. May your eyes be awoken and alert to the light that is with us, even in this room, as we receive this Holy Sacrament. [01:03:38] (37 seconds) #SacramentAwakensEyes
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