December 8

December 8

Faithful love and truth have met; righteousness and peace have kissed. Truth springs up from the ground; righteousness gazes down from heaven. Yes, the Lord gives what is good, and our land yields its produce. Righteousness walks before God, making a road for his steps. —Psalm 85:10-13

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For many years, and in fact, all of my life, I have watched our church home prepare itself for the Advent season. I could always count on it with much anticipation. The watchful waiting had begun! December arrived, and something wondrous had taken place! Our sanctuary was more beautiful than ever. Jesus’ birth was around the corner, and with that, much joy filled our church.

The Advent decorating committee, which helps with this transformation and is led by Helen Culley, goes to work in early December. The ladder comes out. We hang fresh wreaths and garlands and decorate the windows first. The Crismon tree is put up and decorated at another time by another committee. The poinsettias are arranged at the altar and in the foyers later in the month. Slowly but surely, these changes take place.

The wreaths and bows have to look good—together! The prickly needles from the wreaths stick our fingers and fall abundantly to the floor while bows are being attached. Watering the poinsettias is always tricky, and the question always is: will the wreaths stay up on the outside doors?

Even with these few challenges, we always know and are happy that we have been given a special task: decorating God’s House — our church—for the Advent season, so that all may enjoy this time of watchful waiting.

Just look around … and be prepared! Yes, the Lord gives what is good!

Colleen Berninger

December 9

December 9

Lord, you’ve been kind to your land; you’ve changed Jacob’s circumstances for the better. You’ve forgiven your people’s wrongdoing; you’ve covered all their sins. —Psalm 85:1-2

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The picture above was taken the night before last year’s Lessons and Carols services. The dress rehearsal for the choir – the final preparation for the coming event — had been held earlier in the day, and I wasn’t there.
I joined Trinity in 1980 to sing in the choir. I may have missed an Advent/Candlelight service somewhere in the ensuing years, but I don’t remember one. I’m pretty sure I had not missed a Lessons and Carols, which Charles Staples introduced to Trinity in 1991.

Along with the rest of the choir, I began preparation for last year’s services months ahead of time. One rehearsal night in November I realized I had written the wrong date for the performances on my calendar and had made an out-of-town family commitment for the day of the services.

I knew I was going to miss my first Lessons and Carols, but I continued to prepare for the coming event. Isn’t that what Advent is about? We are preparing, waiting, for the birth of the Messiah. The waiting is part of our spiritual journey, and we get to do it every year.

The scripture verses from Psalm 85 are the first two of a communal prayer asking for the renewal or restoration of God’s mercies in a time of distress, but later verses speak to the coming of God and salvation.
Advent focuses us on the birth of Jesus—the coming of God on earth— but it also focuses us on the second coming and our journey toward salvation through Christ.

Art Utley

December 10

December 10

A voice cries out: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.” —Isaiah 40:3-4

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When I read the scripture and ponder this picture, I think of the 26 Christmases I’ve spent at Trinity. I think of “Once in Royal David’s City,” and all the children who have sung that opening stanza. I think of Messiah and Frank Sencindiver singing “Comfort Ye,” or Jeffrey Abbot singing “The Trumpet Shall Sound.” I think of those who died too young: Eric, Julie; or those we lost suddenly: Michael, Jim. I think of those who sang with us to a ripe old age: Jack, Polly. So many others absent from our vision, but still singing with us on a different shore. We may not see them in this picture, but after all we only see through a glass, darkly.

Advent prepares us for the coming of a child, but it also calls us to prepare for that time when we will all be reunited with those who have gone before. As we embrace the newborn baby, so we embrace new and exciting changes in our lives. But no seasons remind us of the importance of tradition as do Advent and Christmas. Because in the midst of change, we also find comfort by revisiting things of the past and experiencing them anew.

I’m reminded of one of my favorite petitions from the ancient order of Compline: “Be present, O merciful God…so that we who are wearied by the changes and chances of this life may rest in your eternal changelessness.”

Dr. Charles Staples

December 11

December 11

The believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the community, to their shared meals, and to their prayers. —Acts 2:42

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After moving to Richmond in the summer of 2015 we spent about eight months looking for our new church home. We had been fortunate to come from a wonderful church in Orlando, Florida, and knew that finding the right fit in RVA might take us some time. There were weeks where we felt that we might never find that church home, and we would “take a break” and just watch the streaming services from Florida instead. But something was missing.

Finding our place in a new state, with new jobs, and meeting new friends was taking longer than we remembered things taking in our 20s. We hadn’t found our community yet. But God didn’t create us to worship alone. Christians were built for community. It is in the studying of the Word, in the fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the sharing of prayers that we find our closest relationship with God. Last year we finally found our community. At Trinity we found a church where we felt loved and accepted and where we could grow in our faith with those around us. As we go on this Advent journey once again, how can we devote ourselves to our community? How do we go beyond the hour of worship, passively being in community with one another, to being an actively engaged member of the community? What would it look like if we truly devoted ourselves to our community?

Mike and Gin Smith

December 12

December 12

The Lord is my light and my salvation. Should I fear anyone? The Lord is a fortress protecting my life. Should I be frightened of anything?     —Psalm 27:1

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Dusk is my least favorite time of day. I am most prone to anxiety or hopelessness at dusk, when day is waning and distinctions become duller, when the outlines of all the things I know for sure by day become hazy in the falling light.
“The Lord is my light,” the Psalmist says. And the light is somehow the substance of salvation; the light is what puts fear to flight.

There is so much to fear: violence, separation, death, ignorance, trauma, the pointlessness of loss. Fear thrives in darkness—in dullness and haziness. Fear thrives when we lose sight of the things we know for sure. But salvation comes in the light.

In this photo, the candles in the windows are surrounded by darkness on every side: the darkness of the sanctuary pushes out; the growing darkness of the night pushes in. The candles stand sentinel in between, undimmed by the deepening darkness.

“The light shines in the darkness,” the gospel writer tells us at the start of the book of John, at the beginning of our salvation story: “and the darkness doesn’t extinguish the light.”

This is the Advent story we call to memory when dusk is falling. The light shines—even when it seems the darkness is closing in from every side. The darkness doesn’t extinguish the light. Why? Because the Lord is the light. The Lord is our salvation.

Whom shall we fear? Of whom shall we be afraid?

Shea Tuttle

December 13

December 13

I have asked one thing from the Lord—it’s all I seek: to live in the Lord’s house all the days of my life, seeing the Lord’s beauty and constantly adoring his temple. —Psalm 27:4

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It’s hard to believe that I have been sitting at the piano in the Trinity sanctuary playing for the Contemporary (now Modern) worship service for almost 20 years. I truly struggled to agree to join the “Praise Team” back in 1998. I was not someone who listened to the contemporary Christian stations and was not really familiar with the music that I would be playing. But I love playing music and this seemed like something I could do to help with a new approach to worship and attempt to get a younger demographic to attend Trinity.

Well, over the years I discovered that the music we played had no relationship to the age of the congregation—we sang songs that everyone could relate to. And so it is with the scripture reading for today. Quoting from the Life Application Study Bible, “the Psalms express the heart and soul of humanity. David and the other writers honestly pour out their true feelings, reflecting a dynamic, powerful and life-changing friendship with God”. Psalm 27 goes on to say “I will sing and make music to the Lord.”

What a joy it is to bring the good news of God’s love to our congregation in a way that goes beyond mere words. Music has the ability to touch our hearts and help us connect with the Holy Spirit. I know that the songs we sing during the Advent season include those that are forever a part of our spiritual lives. By the way, do you know how hard it is to play “Silent Night” with tears in your eyes?

Bob Burton