Messiah, Chorus: Glory to God

Listen: (1:59)

Glory to God in the highest,

and peace on earth

Good will toward men. 

Reflection: Listening to this setting of the angel's words in Luke 2, I find myself smiling once again at the vocal "geography." We have the highest voices singing "Glory to God in the highest," then a pause, then the lowest voices singing, "And peace on earth." If anything, it's a little on the nose, but fun, and it fills my heart with joy. 

What strikes me about this piece is not just the music, but the spaces. Handel is doing theology with the way he lets his music unfold. At the beginning, there is a very firm, unflinching separation between the high voices of heaven, and the low voices of earth. They take turns. They do not overlap. There is a wall of silence between the one and the other, much like the dome of sky God set in place at the creation, separating heaven from earth. 

But then...things start to blend. The voices interweave and harmonize on the words, "Good will toward men." Or, depending on your translation, "toward people of Good will," or "good will among those God favors." The original Greek is fuzzy, and the English words shuffle around a bit, but the message is the same: where there is good will, where there is compassion, where there is love, heaven and earth are united. 

There is a reason why God chooses not to "abduct" the shepherds up into the celestial realm to give them good news, but instead to send messengers down to earth. It's because part of the message is "Heaven and earth are getting together tonight. In the presence of this child you will soon meet, they are one and the same." 

This became the center point for the mission and message of Jesus: "The Kingdom of Heaven has come near." It became part of the way he taught his followers to pray: "Your will be done on earth as in heaven." The boundary line is dissolving, and God isn't staying on God's "side" of the divide any longer (as if the "our" side were ever any less God's home to begin with!) 

It has been such a joy to reflect on this music with you in this season of hope and expectation. My prayer for you in the approaching Christmas season, and in every season of the year, is that you might find places of love, where heaven and earth meet, and that, by God's power, you might be those places for others. God Bless you all, and when the time arrives, a Merry Christmas. 

Prayer: God, thank you for mixing things up. Thank you for melding heaven and earth in the person of Jesus Christ, who is our healing, our hope, our savior and our dear friend. Amen. 

Discussion Questions: 

1) When is the closest you ever felt to heaven? 

2) What are some ways we can show others this new reality, of "heaven come down" in the person of Jesus? 

Messiah, Recitative & Accompagnato: "There Were Shepherds..."

Listen: (1:34)


There were shepherds, abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night.

Luke 2:8

And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid.

Luke 2:9


And the angel said unto them, fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people: for unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord

Luke 2:10-11

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying:
Luke 2:13

Reflection: 

In getting ready to write these devotions, I learned some opera terminology. A "recitative," if I'm correct, is a piece of musical dialogue, sung without a set rhythm, but at the normal speed of a person speaking. That's how this piece begins: in the normal, measured rhythms of a human speaker. And then, the orchestra kicks in, and we are cleared for take-off. Angels, God's glory, Good Tidings of Great Joy, setting the stage for one of the most beautiful praise songs in history...but we'll get to that. 

Luke's Gospel has by the far most set-up for Jesus' birth. Mark and John don't even have a nativity story, and Matthew's is a good deal darker, grittier, and more brief. But Luke has already been setting up the story for a while now. The shepherds, however, have not been in on any of the goings on with Mary, Joseph and their extended. They're clueless. They're going about their nights the same way they always do: watching the flock. (I got a kick out of visiting Jerusalem in 2015, to see modern shepherds walking down the street with a few sheep, looking down at their cell phones. For 3,000 years, shepherding has been a daily routine). 

As I hear this passage sung, and think about the fear, the thrill, the joy that comes so unexpectedly, I can't help thinking the story itself has become routine for us. Honestly, isn't repetition part of what is comforting about the holidays? The same songs, the same stories, Charlie Brown always getting the same crappy tree and having the same breakdown, to be comforted by Linus' same retelling of these same words, every year? What if it were different? What if we popped in the DVD one year, and Linus were coming at us from Isaiah or Malachi? What if we opened our hymnals, and "Joy to the World" were suddenly avant-garde jazz instead of the joyful baroque melody (300 years old this year, BTW)? Then maybe we'd have just a fraction of the shock and surprise the shepherds felt. The angels and a newborn savior were not part of the routine. And the news they gave changed the shepherds' lives forever. But they had to be ready for it. 

My prayer for you in these waning days of Advent, is for a few surprises from God, to break up your holiday routine, and for your readiness to accept them and praise God from them, as the shepherds did.    

Prayer: God, save us from routines, from worship of nostalgia, and from comfortable repetition. May your Word take flesh anew in us this year, and may we be ready to praise you loudly for it. 

Discussion Questions: 

1) What do you think about the role of tradition and routine in our celebration of Christmas? How does it help us, or hurt us, in welcoming the Christ Child? 

2) Have you ever had some tradition or ritual be disrupted at Christmas time? How did it affect your celebration?  

Messiah: Pastoral Symphony

Listen: (1:11)

Reflection: This short, wordless  symphony marks a transition. Oratorios are set apart from Operas in that they are strictly musical performances, with no costumes or sets. Still, in my mind, listening to this "pastoral" symphony, I picture the stage lights going down, and the backdrop of Isaiah's urban Jerusalem being rolled away, leaving only the empty Green hills: the hills outside of Bethlehem. The shepherds silently shuffle into place, ready for the stage lights to come up again. It's almost time.

I imagine for shepherds, there are many silent, wordless moments throughout the day. If you mostly work with sheep, there may be few opportunities for conversation, and plenty of time to be alone with one's thoughts.

Driving back from Maggie's bus stop this morning, I had just about had it with Christmas radio, and had definitely had my fill of news radio, so I just switched it off, and drove home as the light, dusty snow came down. It was a nice break. Too often we try to fill the silence, rather than letting silence fill us. God's presence may break in if we let our voices grow still. Silence often prepares us to hear.

Prayer:
God, grant us silent moments today, and in the frantic days to come. Amen.

Discussion Question:

1) What is the most holy silence you have ever known?

2) How comfortable are you with silence? Is it something you actively seek out? 

Messiah, Chorus: For Unto Us a Child is Given

Listen: (4:05
)

For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the government shall be upon His shoulder; and his name shall be called Wonderful Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:5)

Reflection: If yesterday's aria was a slow sunrise, today's chorus is the full light of dawn. From minor to major, slow to fast, longing to fulfillment. Like many big changes in history, it seems to happen ever so gradually, and then all at once. 

As I mentioned yesterday, Isaiah 9 is from the 8th century BC in Jerusalem, and it seems to hail the birth of a new heir to the throne of Judah, named in honor of God, "Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." The residents of Jerusalem look forward to the leadership of a new, faithful generation. 

But for nearly the whole history of Christianity, believers have also seen this prophecy as a case of history repeating itself: while the original writing may have referred to a prince in the 8th century BC, we hear these words and think of the birth of Jesus, our Prince of Peace. His reign comes not as a military conquest but as a community of welcome and healing for those in desperate need, and a word of warning to those who trust in earthly power. Our Counselor is wonderful because he reminds us to live in grace and mercy. Our God shows might by becoming weak--a baby--for us. Our Father is Everlasting because his reign exists not just in one country during one Monarch's life, but in every life that trusts in God's way of peace, forgiveness and love. 

A year ago, I was just preparing to return to work after the birth of Lars, our fourth child. It's an amazing thing, to hold a newborn in your arms and see limitless potential. But it's a different kind of miracle, a year later, to see the look in his eyes when he's doing something he knows isn't right--pulling his brother's hair or trying to crawl into the fridge for the hundredth time--and he begins to learn from mistakes. We sometimes celebrate the newness of a child without remembering how difficult it can be, for them and for us, to learn from mistakes and grow in love. 

Unto us a child is given. Let us embrace the bumpy road, the learning curve, the grace and peace that will abound from this point on. 

Prayer: God, thank you for coming to us, again and again, and especially in the Christ Child. Help us to continue to learn from him, and live in his reign of love. Amen. 

Discussion Questions:

1) We call Jesus a "King," but how is reign, and his leadership, different from any earthly government? 

2) Whether or not we are parents, there is an awful lot we can learn from interacting with young children. What have children taught you? 

Messiah, Bass Aria: The People that Walked in Darkness

Listen: (3:56)

The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light,

And they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death,
on them light has shined. (Isaiah 9:2)

Reflection: 
This aria feels like a slow, gradual sunrise to me. The minor key and slow tempo meander their way toward a more confident and thrilling resolution. But it takes a while. I talked with our children in worship yesterday about the color blue as an Advent color: the color of a sky just as the sun is rising, when you can't yet see the light, but it's getting ever so slightly brighter each moment. It's too slow to really perceive with the naked eye, but it's coming.

From the post-exilic Isaiah 60, to get to Isaiah 9 we now rewind the clock by roughly 200 years. The political situation in Jerusalem is immensely complicated--it's a time of war, of multiple armies threatening Jerusalem, alliances on the table, and the question of doing the most expedient thing versus the most faithful thing is always on the mind of the king. In this context, Isaiah shares a poem about a new heir to the throne: a new generation taking leadership. Hope is coming, but it will take a while to grow and mature.

The gradual dawning of a new generation of leaders makes me think of the "Generation Z" youth, as they've been termed, making waves internationally. It calls to mind Greta Thunberg, recently named Time magazine's "Person of the Year," and the Parkland, Florida students striving for a change in gun policy. I also think of unnamed youth taking part in protests in Hong Kong, in Lebanon, and in Iran. The older generations may not always agree with what they have to say, but that has not stopped them from speaking their minds.

The light I hope to see dawn soon is a light of understanding, and a light by which we can gather together and take action on problems that have left us stumbling for far too long. I think a new generation of young people, if we choose to listen, can lend us a new kind of light--maybe to see something God has wanted us to see for a long time.

Prayer: God, shed some light on our world. Help us to see your light dawning among us, from people of all ages. Amen.

Discussion Questions: 

1) Have you ever had a "lightbulb" moment that was a very long time coming? is God's light more like an instantaneous light switch, or a long, slow sunrise? 

2) What can we learn from people born after the year 2000? How can we be better listeners?

Messiah, Bass Accompagnato

Listen (3:03) 

For behold, darkness shall cover the earth, 

and gross darkness the people:

but the Lord shall arise upon thee,

and his glory shall be seen upon thee.

And the Gentiles shall come to thy light, 

and kings to the brightness of thy rising. (Isaiah 60:2-3)

Reflection: This is a jarring change from the previous alto piece. Listening to it for the first time, I almost wondered if the recording had been edited and slowed down. It is so slow, so low, so dour. It almost feels unnatural. I listened to another live recording just to confirm: this is, in fact the original key and speed. 

The last piece included Isaiah 60:1 "Arise, shine, for thy light has come", but now we are focused on darkness. Deep darkness, or "gross darkness" to use the King James language. In the post-exilic world, the prophets have begun to realize that their "happily ever after" has not happened, not even after returning home to Jerusalem. This has led to some sense of deflation, disappointment, and maybe even a societal depression. The Messiah, the glory of God, is still yet to rise. But first there will be dark times. It will get darker before it gets lighter. 

I want to take just a moment to acknowledge that Christian people of color have cautioned us not to misuse the "dark/light" language of the Bible in such a way as to say "darkness is bad and light/whiteness is good." Our society has done too much of that in the past: seeing whiteness as a sign of good and purity, and darkness as evil, or at least less-than. That was never the intention of the Biblical authors (who, let's remember, were from the Middle East themselves and probably had dark skin). 

But in this season of the year especially, reflecting on this dirge-like piece of music, I think it is valuable to think about the atmosphere of darkness we see as the days grow shorter and the sun retreats. As I look out my window, it is the "full blaze" of morning, but it is overcast and snowing. It is beautiful, but it is not bright. And here in the north, that's a seasonal reality. 

I feel that, like the rest of nature and like this piece of music, our souls slow down a bit in the darkness. It can lead to seasonal affective disorder and depression. We need to be aware of that. But it can also be a welcome time of turning inward, and reflecting. There are a great many things--the stars, for instance--that we can only see when it is dark. 

Isaiah 60, sung by this deep, slow bass voice, seems to suggest that the darkness itself is from God. It is a different flavor of holiness. A chance to switch off the blinking yuletide lights, and let our spiritual sight acclimate, so we can be ready for the rising glory to come. 

Prayer: God, thank you for being with us in the darkness, and for sending darkness to us when we most need it. Amen. 

Discussion Questions: 

1) How do you deal with the short days of winter? How do you live differently in the darkness? 

2) Do you have memories of holy times that took place in the dark? Candle-light services? Campfires? How does God's darkness see a different kind of light?  

Messiah, Aria (Alto) & Chorus: O Thou That Tellest Good Tidings to Zion

Listen: (5:30)

O thou that tellest good tidings to Zion,

go thee

up into the high mountains o

thou that tellest

good tidings to Jerusalem lift up thy voice with strength

 lift it up, be not afraid, 

say unto the cities of Judah

 Behold your God!

O thou that  tellest good tidings to Zion, arise, shine for thy

light is come. and the glory of the Lord is risen

upon thee.

O thou that tellest good tidings to Zion, good

tidings to Jerusalem, 

Arise say unto the cities of

Judah:

 Behold your God, 

the glory of the Lord

is risen upon thee

(Isaiah 40:9, Isaiah 60:1)

Reflection: This aria and chorus weave together two verses from two different parts of Isaiah: 40:9 (written during the Babylonian exile, and continuing with the opening texts) and 60:1, which was most likely written after the return to Jerusalem.

To me the music sounds like a singular cry of a leader, becoming an increasingly popular movement, gaining in momentum and energy as the chorus progresses.

God's command to the prophet is, "get up on the mountains, lift up your voice, do not be afraid!" God does not promise instant results. God doesn't say the whole nation will instantly pick up their lives after 70 years and March right back to Jerusalem. In fact, a significant population of Jews remained in Babylon (which became Iraq) well into the modern era. But that was not the prophet's problem. The prophet's job is to get up and proclaim the message as loudly as possible, and let God do the rest.

This is an important reminder to me all year, but especially in Advent, when we hope for a world yet to come: our job is to share God's love with our words and actions, and let the chips fall where they may. We get way too distracted sometimes with notions of "success,"  or "winning", whether in our faith communities or our jobs or our families or our nation. Never forget: success in God's eyes is simply for us to show up again today, and share God's love. That's it. That's all. It'll look different every day, but it will never be about winning. To Jesus, sharing God's love with a neighbor is winning, period. It doesn't matter how they receive it or what happens next. Just get up on your mountain and tell this world what you know.

Prayer: God our light, help us to arise and shine again this morning.

Discussion Questions: 

1) What is something that keeps you going when you are feeling unmotivated? 

2) What does it look like to "get up on a high mountain" and share the story of Jesus, in a world that may have bad impressions of organized religion? 

Messiah, Recitative (Alto) Behold, a Virgin Shall Conceive

Listen: (0:30)

Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son

and shall call him Emmanuel,

"God with Us" (Isaiah 7:14)

Reflection:  
Starting as early as the Gospel of Matthew, Christians have interpreted this prophecy to refer directly to the birth of Jesus, but the context of the original passage from Isaiah is the Assyrian war seven hundred years prior. I am a literature major, so I've always been pretty comfortable with the idea of a text having different meanings for different audiences. In fact, it deepens the meaning of this text for me, to understand that it's been used twice, in very different contexts. First, it was used in the eighth century BC, as a sign to King Ahaz that in less than nine months, the time it takes for a pregnant woman to give birth, the armies of which is is so scared will be dispatched. And second, among Jewish Christians in the first century, to remember that God has indeed come to be "with us" in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah. In fact, I think it's sort of silly to assume the Gospel writers were somehow unaware of the context of the prophecies they used. Their response would likely be, "Oh, yeah. That's what it meant for them then. But this is what it means for us now." Biblical passages can mean different things at different times. But the meaning behind both is the same: God was with the people of Jerusalem 2700 years ago. God was with Mary and Joseph 2,000 years ago. And God is with us today.

Prayer: Thank you, God, for your Word which takes on flesh in different ways at different times. And thank you for the Word that takes on flesh for us in Jesus. Amen.

Discussion Questions:

1) In what ways has God been with you in the past year? 

2) Can you think of a Bible passage that has had different meanings for you at different times in your life? 

Messiah, Chorus: And He Shall Purify the Sons of Levi

Listen: (2:25)

And he shall Purify the Sons of Levi

That they may offer into the Lord an offering in righteousness. (Malachi 3:3)

Reflection: 

To me the quick tempo, and the dynamic that starts quiet and builds,  takes on the character of anxious whispering in a crowd that becomes a shout. This Messiah will set Israel right, starting with the "Sons of Levi," AKA the temple priests. This may not be Handel's intention, but to me it foreshadows the kind of urgent, hushed conversations that must have begun right after Jesus turned over the money changing tables in the temple. 

Like the image of refiner's fire from yesterday, being purified hurts. It requires confrontation and truth-telling. It requires willingness to let go of our own self-interest and defensiveness. And sometimes it requires suspending our notions of niceness, politeness and decorum. If being nice could have purified this world, Jesus would not have been mailed to a cross. 

Prayer: Jesus, purify me, and purify this world. And give us the strength to receive it as a gift. 

Messiah, Bass (Or Alto?) "But Who May Abide..."

Listen (4:46)

But who may abide the day of his coming, 

and who shall stand when he appeareth? 

For he is like a refiner's fire. 

(Malachi 3: 2)

Reflection

Malachi continues with his warning of God's sudden appearance in the midst of a bored, complacent temple worship. Malachi sides with the majority opinion of prophets in this matter, which is, in short: 

"You think you want the day of the Lord. Believe me, you don't." 

The tradition of the "day of the Lord" in the post-exilic prophets, which becomes "Judgment Day" in the New Testament, foretells a time when the truth is revealed. There will be no hiding from who we are, what we have done, and how it has affected others. I'm with Malachi here: as much as we use words like "hope," and "expectation," and "anticipation" as we observe Advent, as much as we cry out, "Come Lord Jesus," I don't think we understand the full import of what we are saying. It's human nature to joyfully expect the judgment of others. But that refiner's fire is coming for us, too. We too will feel the heat, will be melted down, and it will be revealed that we are not who we said we were, or even thought we were. Refining means loss. It means that, just as some impurities are removed from silver, certain aspects of who we are--not just the stuff we're not proud of, but more than likely, some things we are proud of, or even cherish--are not going to make it into the final version of ourselves that God has in mind. 

As a dyed-in-the-wool Lutheran, I believe the passages of scripture that say it's God's grace that saves us, through our faith in Christ. But the thing I hear in Malachi is that this "saving" will probably hurt, and the "us" who are saved may be strikingly different from the "us" we picture. My natural human reaction is to fear that, not to abide that or stand for it. Only by the Holy Spirit can I say, "Come Lord Jesus," understanding what that really means. 

Prayer

Jesus, have mercy on us. By your Holy Spirit, begin the work of refining us, melting us down, and shaping us into who you want us to be. Help us not be too attached to the form we take in this life, so we can be ready for what is coming. Amen. 

Discussion Questions: 

1) If you grew up hearing about the Day of Judgment, what kind of images or feelings did it evoke for you? 

2) What are some aspects of our minds or spirits that might be difficult to lose? Are there parts of ourselves that we hope will go away? 

3) Advent prepares us, not for Christmas, but for Christ's return. How do you think Advent would be different if it were observed in a whole different time of year, without any connection to Christmas?   

Messiah, Baritone: "Thus Saith the Lord"

Listen: 1:37

This saith the Lord of Hosts:

Yet once, a little while, 

And I will shake the heavens and the earth,

The sea and dry land, 

And I will shake all nations, 

And the desire of the nations shall come. (Haggai 2:6-7)

The Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to his temple,

Ev'n the messenger of the Covenant, whom ye delight in,

Behold he shall come,

Saith the Lord of Hosts. (Malachi 3:1)

Reflection: Biblically, we've made a leap here from Second Isaiah (right in the middle of the Babylonian Exile) to two different post-exilic prophets, Haggai and Malachi. The single, powerful  baritone voice taking center stage, brings our attention to the surprising--even shocking--nature of God's coming to dwell among us.

Haggai is a key player in the historical books of Ezra and Nehemiah. He comes at a time when the people have already been back in Jerusalem for almost 20 years, but the temple still is not rebuilt. They are slumping into complacency and despair, when Haggai comes along as a powerful cheerleader for the rebuilding of the temple.

Malachi, on the other hand, is not only the final book of the Old Testament, but may have been one of the last written. His words come at a time when the temple has already been rebuilt, but temple worship has become a matter of "going through the motions." People are not giving a tithe to God, as commanded, and sacrifices are not made with care. Malachi warns that God will suddenly show up in the temple in a dramatic way. More in this to come...

I think anyone who has ever been part of a religious community, or a choir, or any group with a common identity and purpose for that matter, must be familiar with the kind of malaise these two prophets have dealt with. I will fervently defend the notion that  if you're committed to something, you keep showing up, no matter how you feel about it. If a choir gave up on a performance, or a church stopped doing ministry, or a community organization gave up on a goal, just because they weren't all that excited about it one day, our world would be in even more trouble than we are today.

But still, we need prophets like Haggai and Malachi now and again, to remind us that God can, and often does, show up unexpectedly, with just the kick-in-the-pants we need, to remember we are engaged in holy work, and our advocate is the one who made the heavens and the earth, and who is more than willing to shake them up a bit to awaken us.

Prayer: God, shake the heavens and the earth today. Show up in our holy places. Remind us who and what we stand for. Stir us from complacency. Amen.

Discussion Questions: 

1) I know we say Jesus is present whenever two or three are gathered in his name. But what might happen in the average American Church, if Jesus suddenly showed up personally and visibly? How would he react to our worship? And how might worshipers react to him? 

2) When was a time when God shook your world and gave you a necessary wake-up call?   

Messiah, Chorus: And The Glory of the Lord

Listen (2:52)

And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,

and all flesh shall see it together, 

for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. 

Reflection: One of the things that sets an oratorio apart from an opera, of which Handel also wrote many, is the choruses. This is the first taste we get of the choir at full volume, echoing back and forth, playing with the melody other sections have just sung. The word translated "glory" here also means abundance, wealth or splendor. This is a promise to the exiled Judahites that God's glory will once again shine in Jerusalem. 

But I have to also think that Handel has in mind the "glory of the Lord" that shines all around the terrified shepherds in Bethlehem. To me, this chorus sounds like a preview of the angels singing "Glory to God in the highest" on Christmas night.

It certainly must have been a potent image for this nation which endured such suffering, to hear that one day God's glory will be revealed again, for all flesh to see. I think sometimes when we lose something important to us--whether it's a home, a relationship, a job, or some sense of the way the world is--it can be very tempting to want to rewind the clock, and imagine what it would be like if everything was "back the way it was." But this promise of God's glory being revealed was fulfilled in a very different way than what God's people first pictured. Ultimately, instead of on a battle field or in a throne room, God's glory was revealed in a manger. Sometimes if we dwell too much on "past glory," we may be less able to see the glory being revealed right in front of our eyes, because it looks so different from how we pictured. 

Prayer: God, reveal your glory to us and to all flesh. Help us to see your presence in places and people we never would have imagined. 

Discussion Questions: 

1) What does "glory" mean to you? Why is it a good thing for God's glory to be revealed?

2) How can people of faith avoid the mistake of trying to bring power and glory to ourselves instead of God?   

Messiah: Tenor Aria, "Every Valley Shall Be Exalted"

Listen: (3:32)

Ev'ry valley shall be exalted

and ev'ry mountain and hill made low

the crooked straight

and the rough places plain. (Isaiah 40:4)

Reflection: As we move on to the next verse from Isaiah, the pace picks up. The mood moves from comfort to exhilaration. What I love about this piece is that it does what it says. There are so many little ups and downs in the orchestral score, that I almost picture running up and down past rolling hills and mountains. As the soloist sings about valleys exalted, he works his way up the scale, as though by singing alone he is doing the raising. 

From the very beginning of the Hebrew Scriptures, God makes things happen by speaking. In the first chapter of Genesis, God's word, "let there be light," is all it takes for light to come into being. There are a lot of metaphorical valleys and hills in our world that may seem like permanent obstacles to God's reaching us. War, poverty, racism, greed, and complacency seem like such immovable fixtures in humankind. But the same God who can make create the world from nothing, and who can make dry bones live again, all with just a word, can smooth over even these things when the time is right. 

Prayer: God, make the crooked places straight and the rough places plain in our spirits. Only speak, and anything that would prevent us from hearing your voice can be smoothed out. Speak to us now. 

Questions for discussion: 

1) What is a "crooked" or "rough" place in our world, in need of God's help? What would it look like for it to be smoothed out? 

2) What about in our own lives? Where are the rough places? 

3) Have you ever had a situation where just speaking the right words have changed a whole situation? How does God's word do that for us?