Kena Hawkins Newkirk

But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. – Isaiah 40:31 (NRSV)

This year has felt like a marathon. There has been so much stress and anxiety, bitterness and obstacles. Nothing has been normal. I feel like if I hear the phrase “uncertain times” one more time then I am going to explode. We really need some certain times if you ask me. We need new energy. We need some encouragement.

In Hebrew, the word “wait” can also mean “hope.” We talked about the connection between waiting and hoping in our last devotion. We discussed how God calls us to practice hope with patience and imagination. But, this verse introduces another element to hope which God promised to provide: strength.

Waiting can take a lot of energy out of you. Without God’s intervention we can become discouraged or exhausted by the circumstances in which we find ourselves. But God promised if you wait for him, if you put your hope in him, he will renew your strength. It is a message of endless endurance and profound support. Isaiah presents us with a heroic image of a runner who never gets tired and paints us a picture of a majestic bird soaring above all troubles.

This verse reminds me of where we find hope in our Christmas hymns. There’s a line in “O, Holy Night” which goes “A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, For yonder breaks, a new and glorious morn.” I love the idea that hope is thrilling. There’s an energy and strength behind hope which makes it feel like electricity animating our very bones.

The hope of God is not a weak and fragile thing. God’s hope is dynamic and strong. It energizes us in the midst of “uncertain times.” It makes us agile enough to overcome the most challenging of obstacles. God’s hope is thrilling and brings joy to all the world.

Maybe this seems unattainable to you. Maybe you are weary from a year of uncertainty. Engage God in conversation. Ask for the strength and thrill of hope this Advent.

Make your name known to your adversaries, so that the nations might tremble at your presence! – Isaiah 64:2 (NRSV)

This has been a pretty crazy year with the pandemic, celebrity deaths, and a vicious presidential election. We’ve seen politicians on all sides behave badly and struggle to provide good leadership for our country.

The way we do school and church has changed in ways we couldn’t imagine. We missed big events and milestones all in the hope that we can keep each other safe and healthy. 2020 has been tough; if 2020 was a food it would be toothpaste covered orange slices. But this verse is one we need for today. It’s about hoping for a better future.

In the second half of this verse, Isaiah asked that God might make the nations of the world tremble. He doesn’t specify which nations, he probably means all nations. It’s tough to say what is going on exactly, but it’s a pretty good bet that it has not been a good year. If we think about the historical context, this was likely written during the exile when all of Israel was under the thumb of foreign enemies. For Israel, things were rough, and it felt like the whole world was turning against God. So, what does Isaiah want? He’s not interested in maintaining the status quo. Isaiah wants God to shake things up!

Advent is the beginning of the church calendar, and this prayer seems to be a wish list for God to do new and exciting things with the new year. Remember that this week in Advent we are focusing on hope. As Christians, we are called to live with the hope and anticipation that God is still working in the world.

Imagine what the new year will be like for just a minute. How would you like for God to shake things up in our world? How would you like God to shake things up in your community or your school. Take some time today to ask God to shake things up. Tell him what you might want this to look like.

Allow the hope of Christ to shape your vision for the future during this Advent season. Rest in the hope that God wants to shake things up!

A voice cries out: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. – Isaiah 40:3 (NRSV)

Maybe you have heard this passage before. It is repeated in the gospels and used to describe the ministry of John the Baptist. John was a prophet sent ahead of Jesus to prepare the way for him. He lived in the wilderness near the Jordan river and people came from all around to hear him and be baptized. John called people to repent and get their hearts right because he knew that the Messiah of God was coming soon.

Advent is the season before Christmas in which we are supposed to prepare our hearts for Christ just like John did two thousand years ago. We are invited to take time for reflection and prayer. We are called to cultivate anticipation in our souls through worship and studying the Bible. We are encouraged to sit quietly and remember what Jesus means for our lives.

The thing is, while God is asking us to prepare our hearts for Jesus, the world is asking us to prepare our homes for Christmas. There are gifts to buy, halls the deck, presents to wrap, lights to string, cookies to bake, and carols to sing. There is so much to keep us busy and distracted that we might miss Jesus when he shows up.

So how should we prepare our hearts for Jesus this Advent? Here’s a few ideas: participate in some charity work in your community, attend a special Christmas service with your family, or spend some extra time in prayer or reading your Bible alone or with some close friends.

Believe me, Christmas morning is so much sweeter when we welcome the day having prepared for Jesus.

I keep hearing that we are living in unprecedented times. A global pandemic plus a presidential election amid some of the most divisive times in our country’s history.

While it’s true, times are incredibly tricky; they are not without precedent. Countries have experienced pestilence, politics, and protests for generations. It has been worse.

The Spanish Flu killed more people than World War I, and we’re likely only fairing better due to advancements in health care, testing, tracing, and social distancing. My husband, a history enthusiast, recently reminded me that ancient Rome handled political disagreements with a sharp knife and a dump in the Tiber River. And there was a time in this country that protests for civil rights boiled over into Civil War.

Lately, I’ve been looking into the Wesley tradition for some practical advice on conducting myself during this election season. John Wesley was once asked about how to handle voting, and this was his short response:

I met those of our society who had voted in the ensuing election and advised them
1. To vote, without fee or reward, for the person they judged most worthy
2. To speak no evil of the person they voted against, and
3. To take care, their spirits were not sharpened against those that voted on the other side.

While this is a helpful outline for keeping discourse civil and voting once’s conscience, it has many holes. How does one define “most worthy?” Should I vote for the person whose policies benefit me the most or benefits society the most? Then again, “worthy” sounds like a judgment of character, not policy.

And what about speaking “no evil.” Sounds easy enough, but does that mean saying only good things to the exclusion of the truth?

Perhaps the most challenging piece of this advice is not to take things personally. To stay friends with people who voted differently than you did. This, I think, is the crux of the matter. As a privileged white woman, while this is challenging for me, it might not be impossible. And I’ve heard this wisdom a lot in the past. While we can disagree politically, we can still be friends personally.

However, politicians have turned so many personal issues into political issues. Government policies have blurred the lines between what is political and what is personal. Most divisive issues in the political landscape affect people on deeply personal levels. Policies around gay marriage, abortion, race relations have an impact that reaches deeper than our skin. Even issues like health care and war are issues of life and death.

I tend to think this is intentional. It’s easier for politicians to divide and conquer than unite and lead. We are being manipulated over a handful of issues and vote out of fear. If you watch political ads on tv, you’d think the world would implode if the opposing candidate won the election.

Nevertheless, how is it possible to address these personal things so dispassionately? How are we to remain friends with people who want to legislate beyond the boundaries of our bodies? How have politicians made us so so concerned with policing each other’s bodies? And since when does the government’s jurisdiction reach extend beyond our skin?

I appreciate the people who subscribe to Wesley’s third piece of advice, to remain friends with those of differing political beliefs. I’m not saying I disagree with Wesley, but we must realize how monumental this task may be.

For some people, it might mean simply agreeing to disagree. But for others it means forgiving a personal injury.

It might mean forgiving someone who voted in support of a policy that violates your own humanity. It might even be a policy that threatens your very life. Some might argue that I am dramatic, but I am merely trying my best to put myself in another person’s shoes.

Governments are fallible. Laws and policies that were once celebrated as just are now condemned as cruel. As a country, I pray we continue to seek Liberty, and Justice for all, knowing we’ll frequently fall short. When we do, I hope we do more than agree to disagree. I hope we forgive and ask for forgiveness. I can think of no better mark of Christ in politics.

There’s a lot that supposedly happens during a baptism theologically. A person is adopted into the Kingdom of God, marked according to the covenant by the Holy Spirit, washed of sin, and raised to new life with Jesus.

I’ve seen plenty of baptisms. I’ve seen babies get baptized, and I’ve seen new believers get baptized. I’ve seen people sprinkled with water in church and dunked in lakes on camp retreats. I’ve recited the liturgy more times than I can count.

But none of these things prepared me to witness the baptism of my son. It was the most profound experience of God’s grace I have encountered in years. The last few weeks, I had been searching for the right words to describe this moment when I was presented with Luke 3:21-22 during a recent Bible study:

When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too. And as he was praying, heaven was opened  and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

Reading this passage brought me a new kind of joy and understanding.

Last November, William and I traveled to Jesus’ baptism site by the Jordan River. The river has moved locations over the years and now runs about a hundred yards East of the traditional spot due to earthquakes and irrigation from farming. You can still visit the ruins of the Byzantine church built there to commemorate the former location.

When William and I visited, our Jordanian tour guide took a particular interest in us. We chatted with him a good bit. When it came time for the tour to move along, he told us to hang back so we could duck under the rope and walk down into the dried-up river bed typically off-limits to tourists.

“Go down the steps, look to Jerusalem and make a wish,” he said with a wink. I couldn’t believe our good fortune.

When we were alone, we walked down into the river bed. There are massive marble steps, and a foundation once supported a canopy, and you can see the groves where water used to flow. We then turned our eyes toward Jerusalem and prayed for our unborn child. I was ten weeks pregnant at the time.

When Jonah was baptized, we mixed a few tablespoons of water from the Jordan River into the baptismal font. I thought of that day in Jordan, praying for the baby I hadn’t met yet. And when the water touched his head, I thought to myself, “this is my son, who I love, in whom I’m well pleased.”

I am so thankful for everyone who has supported Baby Jonah in his faith journey so far, and I look forward to all the love he will experience in the family of faith.

At his baptism, I was so thankful to know that the love of God extends to him and to see God’s love spread over him in the sacrament of baptism. I imagine that the words spoken by God over Jesus Christ were spoken over Jonah when the water was brushed over his head.

I wonder if God spoke those words over me at my baptism, and I wonder if God is still speaking these words over everyone who abides in Christ. “This is my daughter,” “This is my son,” “whom I love, with whom I am well pleased.”

I pray that each day, Jonah will rise with the knowledge that he is God’s beloved, that there is nothing he can do to earn the gift of grace, and that God finds pleasure when lives authentically in Christ.

In September, Jonah made his first trip to Raleigh to visit his grandparents who live there. It was the first of what will likely be many road trips.

Our little guy is blessed to have so many people who love him, and it was exciting to bring my child to the place where I spent my childhood.

While we were there, we played a lot of games, which is pretty typical. At one point, Jonah‘s grandfather, my father, held him in his lap with a handful of cards in front of him. He spoke to him about what the cards meant and made a joke about going “all in.” Granted, the cards we were using were for a particular game called The Mind and had nothing to do with poker.

I played cards a lot with my grandparents growing up. And my father’s father was very insistent that we play using proper etiquette. We were chastised if we cut the deck the wrong way or dealt incorrectly. In fact, I specifically learned to play bridge so we could spend more time together.

When I saw my father fanning out the cards in front of my son, he looked like my grandfather. The torch of grandparenthood had passed.

This thought brought me both joy and sadness because my dad’s parents were recently moved into an assisted care facility. They are in poor health and can no longer manage at home.

My grandparents and my parents have been a remarkable influence on my card-playing as well as faith journey. For example, the tag line I use on my social media pages is a favorite proverb of my Papa:

“There, but for the grace of God, go I.”

Of course, my mother’s role as a youth pastor inspired me to go into ministry. Both of my grandmothers had profound faith and served in the choir and teaching Sunday school. My father taught me Contract Bridge but also how to pray.

It says in Psalms 144:4 that it is the responsibility and privilege for all generations to mentor each other in faith:

One generation shall commend your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts.

This means sharing in faith is not a one-way street. We learn about God from our elders, but we also proclaim God’s work in our lives to our elders.

As we begin our lives as parents, I’m looking forward to how all of these older family members, these older generations, will pour into the life of our son. But I’m also excited about all the ways Jonah will celebrate our Creator. He’s already igniting new joys and wonders as we watch him grow. Without words, he is already a fantastic evangelist, proclaiming with his fingers and toes the love of our God.

I anticipate many card games in Jonah’s future. I hope he learns proper card etiquette and loves to play bridge with his Papa. But I know he will learn all about the love of God from his family and church family. And I pray he will continue to be an evangelist, even without words.

I was only in 4th Grade when America was attacked on her own soil for the first time since Pearl Harbor. The teachers were acting strange, and then without warning, my mother picked me up from school to take me home.

She had witnessed the carnage on the news with my older brother at a local restaurant after a dentist appointment. I remember watching the news coverage while sitting on our living room floor when we got home.

Yes, I was young. I was also terrified. I only knew about the World Trade Center from an old Simpsons episode, and I really wasn’t allowed to watch The Simpsons.

Maybe my experience seems less significant because I was young. However, those of us who were young will remember longer. We will be responsible for telling the story when we’re in our 80s and 90s, and it seems like ancient history.

And I remember other things about 9/11 too:

I remember visiting New York for the first time and gazing into the giant pit where the buildings once stood.

I remember visiting the Memorial not long after it first opened and seeing all the names written in stone.

I remember being in college and listening to a lecture on 9/11. Our professor was a volunteer firefighter, and he was concerned that we understand its place in history.

I remember my first graduating class of seniors while working in youth ministry who were born after 9/11. They never knew the world before. Those students like so many others will remember only in solidarity, not in actual practice.

But lately, I remember how united our country was immediately following the incident. I remember the disinterest in partisan politics. Remember the love and concern we had for one another.

That united sentiment didn’t last very long, and a lot of poor decisions were made in the aftermath motivated by fear. But I miss 9/12, as many of you might too.

I’ve also been somewhat disappointed that’s despite numerous tragedies and challenges since that day, division and partisanism in our country have only gotten worse.

I’ve seen posts on social media about how people miss the America of 9/12. I get it. I do too.

However, I think it’s important to remember that division in our country is a choice. We choose to promote intentionally divisive content. We choose to see the world as strictly black-and-white. We choose rejection over empathy, and we’re choosing it more and more each day.

In his speech excepting the Republican nomination for the U.S. Senate in Springfield, Illinois, the future president Abraham Lincoln made reference to a teaching from Jesus Christ. It was at the height of civil tension in our country.

“ A house divided against itself, cannot stand,” he said.

When we choose division, we choose weakness. So many people around the world would like us to choose weakness.

May we all be mindful of the divisions in our country that people use to gain political power. May we all be held accountable for the divisive choices we ourselves make, which alienate us from our neighbors and make our communities weaker.

But most of all, may we remember as Christians, we are united as one. Neither slave nor free, neither male nor female, neither Republican nor Democrat, neither American nor immigrant.

I will continue to tell the story of 9/11, but I will also tell the story of 9/12 when our country did its best to unite.